Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind]

Home > Other > Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind] > Page 10
Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind] Page 10

by Ewing, Lance K.


  Jim added that the President would be giving a State of the Union speech today at 5 p.m. Central Time, and it would be broadcast from an unknown location.

  It was settled and, God willing, we would shortly be following close behind the largest and most deadly group we knew about in the next-world.

  Greenhouses were the topic of the day, along with the upcoming President’s speech.

  Many theories of the President’s address we’re flying around. Some thought it would be a repeat of the last one, slightly edited to make it appear new. People in this camp thought the government had completely abandoned its citizens and flew or took ships to other ally countries to wait it out. Once the food ran out at the FEMA camps, it would be a repeat of the first day.

  Others considered the President, Vice President and Cabinet, along with members of both the House and Senate, with everyone’s families in tow, to be hiding in a lavish bunker somewhere on the East Coast. They would be waiting to reunite the country, just as soon as the power could be restored.

  The last camp considered the government selling the country’s land for the exploitation of its raw minerals, petroleum, timber and vast farmland to overpopulated countries like China, Japan or India, using the citizens still alive as modern-day slaves and only providing crude room and board in exchange for hard work and absolute loyalty.

  These options, along with a few others further down the crazy train tracks, encompassed aliens and fully automated androids at the helm.

  I could picture Jerry Garcia and Ozzie Osborn on board the crazy train, yelling to the conductor “Faster, Casey! Faster!”

  Next came the discussion of retaliation for the country involved in the EMP attack.

  Many considered we had wiped North Korea off the map, including millions of hard-working citizens who were likely only caring about their families and the next meal.

  Another view was a regime change in that country, replacing Kim Jong-un with Dennis Rodman, an over-the-top former professional basketball player from Chicago.

  “James would love this,” David said, whispering to me. “He’s a Chicago Bulls fan through and through.”

  I found it funny, knowing that Rodman had called the North Korean leader his friend and visited his country more than once.

  The third, and most plausible to me, was offered by Jake and Nancy.

  “An EMP is an act of nuclear war with no fallout or contamination to another country’s air supply,” Jake began. “For that reason, it kind of gets a pass in the nuclear war rules. It’s not a good thing to do in the eyes of other countries that may be allies, but it’s also not a full-scale nuclear bombing, sending a mushroom cloud of toxic chemicals into the jet stream that may harm other countries.

  “Think of our likely allies of South Korea, Japan and Australia, with both Japan and South Korea in the immediate nuclear aftermath zone of such destruction. Do you think they are going to want to aid a former ally who has put their citizens just outside the direct line of fire?”

  “I don’t think they will, and all those ships with aid that the President spoke about on the last radio address would reverse course and head back home,” continued Nancy.

  “I agree, guys,” I said aloud. “We may have hit them with an EMP or attempted a regime change, minus Rodman, if we’re being realistic, but there’s no way we nuked an entire country. The risks are just too high.

  “When people, and even entire families, can be executed or put into hard labor camps for saying something bad about the regime, it doesn’t seem unlikely that they would appear to support their leadership unconditionally during public ceremonies and parades.

  “If I’m honest, I’m glad we likely didn’t destroy millions of men, women and children to fix what has always been a regime problem.”

  I saw many from both groups shaking their heads in agreement, although I knew there would likely be some folks in each camp.

  “Maybe we will get some answers with President Obama’s speech today…and maybe not,” added Lonnie, seeming to agree with Jake and Nancy’s logic as well.

  “I hope they’re bringing over some South Korean barbecue beef,” said one of the adults, getting a few laughs.

  “Either way,” interjected Joy, “any help from a foreign country will most likely arrive by ship, and in a port far away from New Mexico or Colorado. I doubt any aid will make it past the first few FEMA camps near the coast.”

  Most agreed with her on that theory.

  “Let’s shelve this until we hear the President’s address,” offered Lonnie.

  “Now, on to the greenhouses,” announced David. “I think Mel has something to share with us.”

  “It took me half the night, but my adrenaline was still kicking from the dynamite yesterday. You never really know how that stuff will play out,” Mel said jokingly, getting a stern look from Tammy.

  “Anyway, I created some drawings,” he continued passing out a few pieces of computer paper with exact dimensions and materials listed.

  “You did this yesterday?” asked Lonnie, surprised.

  “Well, actually last night,” replied a smiling Mel. “I bet you were expecting it to be done by hand and not a computer draft!”

  “That’s right,” replied Lonnie. “The Faraday cage again, am I right?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Mel. “The computer and printer and copier. And before anyone asks, I do not have access to the Internet, although it seems possible, given that it’s worldwide and hosted by satellites.”

  “Are these renderings accurate?” asked David.

  “Down to the last screw, my friend,” replied Mel.

  “You all have had my Mel up half the night two days in a row,” shouted Tammy in a playful tone. “He’s mine tonight” got a cheer from the other ladies and a few of the men.

  Mel, blushing, said, “Can’t argue with that!”

  “You’ve done a fine job over the last couple days, Mel, helping both of our groups,” said David in a serious tone. “You have my vote for a night off only to catch up on your sleep,” he added, breaking his demeanor as a smile crept in.

  “You’ve got my vote too,” I said, laughing as Mel blushed just a bit more.

  A raid of Dean’s workshop revealed many of the parts needed for the project, including boards, nails and screws, and hand tools such as hammers, levelers, saws, screwdrivers, and an impressive amount of power tools that could be run on a generator.

  “The rest is in the other shop,” said David getting a look out of both me and Mel. Even Mark looked surprised, hearing this from his dad.

  “I’ve been up here a long time, Dad, and I don’t see another shop.”

  “Are you sure you don’t see it, son?” asked David, pointing to a large rock sitting in front of a large pile of dirt.

  “I see the rock, but that’s it,” said Mark.

  I was looking at a rock nearly 10 feet by 10 feet in an area with no other rocks close to that size.

  As we walked closer, David knocked on it with his closed right hand.

  “That thing sounds hollow,” said Mel.

  David slid the 50-pound rock that should have weighed 10,000 pounds aside to reveal a metal door painted earthen brown that was only visible by the round rusted handle.

  Unlocking the padlock with the key from his pocket, he swung open the large metal door, revealing a dark room dug into the side of the mountain.

  Shining his flashlight, David entered the wide-open space, with the rest of us following closely behind.

  “I haven’t been in here since it happened,” said David, trying the light switch with no luck. “I figured it was worth a try since the whole thing is technically in the ground.”

  With the rest of us adding our flashlights, we were able to see inside clearly.

  “Over there are the rolls of plastic my father saved, hoping to one day build greenhouses of his own,” pointed out David.

  The sheetrock walls were covered with exceptional paintings of Beatrice at ev
ery stage of her life since they met all those years ago.

  “Those are incredible!” I called out. “Why are they not in the house?”

  “She has never seen them,” said David. “All the years they have been married, he had done one portrait every year for 42 years, and she had no idea.”

  I wanted to ask why he didn’t show her when he knew he was dying of cancer, and suddenly realized he probably would have if he had lived just a little longer.

  I was relieved that observation didn’t slip out in front of Mark, but I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

  “Can we show her now?” an excited Mark asked.

  “Not yet, son,” replied David. “It’s the sort of thing that needs to be revealed in a certain way. Let me think about it for a day or two.

  “In the meantime, we need to get the building supplies over to the main workshop, so everything is in one place.”

  We opted to get all the materials over ourselves, so as not to have anyone else see the portraits.

  “Lance,” called Mark’s friend, running from the house and out of breath. “Jim has something on the ham.”

  “OK. Tell him I’ll be right there.”

  Without running all of the possible scenarios through my head of what he could be referring to, I ran to Beatrice’s house.

  “I’ve got news on Topeka,” said Jim. “They’re coming.”

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Seven

  Saddle Ranch ~ Loveland Colorado

  Sarah brought Mac into the hospital in the morning, no longer caring what anyone might think. Jimmy was improving and could speak quietly. He wanted to know what happened and Mac gave him an abbreviated version of what he knew.

  “You did a good job, Jimmy. All the guys, are grateful to you for saving their lives.”

  “I’m not sure about that,” Jimmy whispered, “but I’m glad they are all OK.”

  “Your idea put an end to the Miller boys’ issue, and that means a lot for the community,” Mac continued.

  “Thanks, Mac,” replied Jimmy in a hoarse voice.

  “That’s enough for today,” stated Sarah, touching Mac on the shoulder. “He needs his rest.”

  “You’re two for two,” Mac told her as they left the room. She raised a questioning eyebrow. “You saved two of our guys from certain death.”

  “Well, he’s not entirely out of the woods yet. But yeah, I’m kind of a thing around here, in case you haven’t heard,” Sarah joked.

  * * * *

  Cory and Mac took a few guys for a ride up to the Millers’ place before lunch to check on the boy. He was sitting on the front stoop, with a rifle on the ground in front of him.

  “How are you holding up, son?” asked Cory.

  “OK, I guess. Just got my dogs now.”

  “Where are they?” Mac asked, looking around the perimeter.

  “I put them up,” he replied. “It’s not hard to hear five ATVs coming up the mountain.”

  “Do you need any help with the burials?” asked Cory.

  “No. It’s done.”

  “Do you need anything?” asked Mac.

  “Yeah, I guess so. I need something to do. I like to hunt, but it don’t take much to feed just my dogs and me. Plus, I think I need more than just meat to survive up here.”

  “I understand,” replied Mac. “I’ll check with our people and see if there may be a position in security in exchange for some food.”

  “Should we stop at old man MacDonald’s place?” asked one of Mac’s men as they headed back.

  “Not today,” Mac replied. “From what I hear, he already knows everything anyway.”

  * * * *

  “Mac!” came the call over the radio from the southern border.

  “We’ve got some guys over here on horseback, demanding to talk with Chief Lerner.”

  “Who are they?” mouthed Cory to Mac without a sound.

  “Where are they from and what are their names?” asked Mac, now holding the radio so both he and Cory could hear. “Also, what do they want?”

  After gathering the basic information, Mac told the man on the checkpoint he would get right back to him.

  They were apparently part of the Loveland City Council and Sanitation Department, and Cory knew all of their names. “They want to secure the reservoir. They say it belongs to the City and they are challenging our right to have a barricade blocking their access,” he added.

  “Well, this should be fun,” said Cory to Mac. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for a root canal,” joked Mac, still feeling great about his new life.

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, they arrived at the checkpoint. There were 14 men on horseback, including the Mayor of Loveland, who they had forgotten to mention, plus most of the City Council and a few of Cory’s former officers.

  “I’m surprised. Most of these guys even know how to ride,” said Cory quietly to Mac. “Except, of course, for my old officers.”

  “This is getting a bit more complicated than we thought,” remarked a now-serious Mac.

  “I’ll speak to the Mayor first, and then the officers present,” called Cory to the border guard.

  “What about the Council?” the guard asked.

  “Nope, not today,” replied Cory, getting an approving nod from Mac, understanding the idea of “divide and conquer.”

  Mac was reminded of a night when he was maybe 17 or 18. He and his buddy were joyriding around town, drinking a few beers.

  When the police pulled them over, they interviewed them separately before deciding on the validity of their stories. Either way, they both spent a night in the drunk tank and his truck was impounded, with everyone in the small town knowing what happened. It was thankfully enough to learn his lesson for good.

  “I’ll only deal with Chief Lerner,” the Mayor spat.

  “Let him across,” called Mac.

  Cory reached to shake the man’s hand, addressing him as “Mr. Mayor.” The handshake was not returned but, rather, replaced by a demanding glare from a man who clearly did his talking with his mouth.

  “You will be talking to both of us, sir,” said Cory, still trying to be civil.

  “You abandoned your post, Chief Lerner, and left the rest of us to pick up the pieces,” he said angrily.

  “Really?” asked Cory. “Is that what you’re telling the other guys with you? Those three,” Cory continued, pointing to his old officers, “know the truth. They know that after everything happened we tried in earnest to gather the leadership of the City, and you, sir, were nowhere to be found. Your City Council only wanted a free pass of food and protection for their positions but were not willing to work for it. Nobody stepped up to lead the city, and after meeting several times with all of my men, we unanimously decided to each go our separate ways and take care of our families.

  “That being said, just in case it needs to be stated clearly, I, Cory Lerner, Chief of Police of Loveland, Colorado, hereby surrender my post, effective immediately.”

  Border security led an agitated Mayor back across the line and brought three more men over to Cory.

  “How are you guys holding up?” asked Cory, smiling. These three were all good officers, and he wondered how they got caught up with the Mayor.

  “We’re OK,” said one. “It’s good to see you, Cory. The Mayor got all worked up about the reservoir out here, and since Fort Collins, next door, has already secured their water supply, he was embarrassed, I guess, for not having done it sooner.”

  “You mean Horsetooth Reservoir?” asked Mac.

  “Yes, the whole valley up there was secured only days ago, with the help of the local FEMA guys, and of course Fort Collins.”

  “FEMA, huh?” asked Mac.

  “Yeah, they have a camp up that way, and apparently they are interested in the water supply.”

  Mac and Cory had spoken briefly to John and Bill over lunch, learning about the Topeka guys planning to s
ettle at Horsetooth Lake.

  “That should be interesting,” Cory said to Mac, recalling the earlier lunch meeting.

  “Are one of you looking to be Chief of Police now?” asked Cory respectfully to his old friends. “Is that why you’re out here today?”

  “No, sir. We all talked about it,” said another, “and none of us want to be in charge or work under the Mayor. We just heard you were out here with Cameron and, well, we just thought…well...”

 

‹ Prev