Bella wasn't surprised to see that Josh, who was working the rows in the next block across, had finished before her. Josh was an athletic young man just out of his teens and he surveyed his work looking every inch the son of a pioneer. She was less thrilled that her neighbor on the other side had also finished ahead of her. Amy, a small woman of Hong Kong Chinese descent, had to be in her seventies and, though she was gently rubbing her back, she showed no other signs of the exhaustion Bella was feeling as she approached the end of her row.
"Ready to get back, Madam Mayor?" Josh called across. He'd wandered into town with the latest influx of refugees from the south and west and had made himself useful immediately. He was now her driver and she enjoyed knowing how much it aggravated Skulls that she spent more time with Josh than him. A little jealousy could be good for a relationship, she'd decided. Childish? Probably. But you had to take your pleasure where you could.
"Part timer!" Amy called, though she smiled as she did it. "I have two more blocks!"
Bella smiled back and waved at the woman. "You're a civic hero, Amy. I'll commission a statue for the town square."
The old woman called something in Cantonese before laughing at herself and turning to the next row of beans.
Josh drove her back to town in an unmarked Civic. She sat in the back and read through the latest sheaf of paperwork. Civilization could fall, it seemed, but the first green shoots of recovery would be smothered in bureaucracy.
She focused most of her attention on the population report. The west side of town, which the previous mayor had allowed to decay, had now been almost entirely reoccupied and repaired. The task of scouring the countryside in an increasingly wide circle around Elizabeth was now being run with military efficiency by Skulls, who'd developed those skills to a smaller scale at the little community at the crossroads where she'd first met him. A bald thug with a yellow beard and skull tattoo. Just went to show, you couldn't judge on first appearances. She'd found herself falling in love with him, slowly but surely, even though he was a stubborn ox at times. Now she spent more time with her driver than him and that had to change.
Her biggest worry was Maddie. The girl had descended into a terribly dark place when Luke had left without so much as a goodbye. Bella knew he'd done it out of love for her daughter, but Maddie saw it as betrayal. The only ray of light was that Al had taken his granddaughter under his wing and involved her in his attempts to get commerce working again in the town. Barter had reestablished itself almost immediately after the disaster, but the community spirit that had fueled people to this point would only last so long. As their thoughts turned from day to day survival to considering their future, an economy would develop, and Bella wanted this to be done in an organized and equitable fashion. They needed to go from commune to capitalist community in one smooth process without revolution or currency collapse.
So, Al had opened up one of the banks and, with help from a committee made up of an eclectic mix of folk with financial and economical skill, had created a currency that was now the basis of all trade in the town. The Elizabeth Dollar had soon become the Lizzie. The bills of the old world were brought back into service, with the bank determining the interest rate and fixing the value of the new dollar. In the end, Al had found the technical minutiae frustrating and had turned his attention to opening up a trading center in the square outside the town hall where the gallows had once been set up by Mayor Kennedy. A more telling metaphor for the change in the town's outlook would be hard to imagine.
Father O'Rourke was waiting for her outside what had previously been St. Patrick's church, now renamed Hope Church and open to those of all faiths and none.
"Madam Mayor!" he called as the car pulled up and Bella jumped out of the back. She was feeling refreshed from her morning exercise and the quick shower she'd enjoyed at the local sports center. It, too, had been repurposed into a community washing facility and the day the power had been restored to that building had seen the biggest celebrations since she'd become mayor.
"Father," she said, taking his hand.
"Talking of fathers," O'Rourke responded, waving beyond her toward the town hall, "yours seems to have found his vocation. The market is a huge success."
Bella looked across at the collection of market booths and smiled. "Folks like to buy things with their own money. They like to earn, and to get ahead. Pop is meeting their baser needs, Brian, and it's your job to balance that. We need spiritual sustenance as much as we need food. In the longer term at least."
"Indeed. A starving man will take a loaf of bread over a prayer, but as soon as he has been fed, he looks to the meaning of things. There has to be a purpose, Bella."
They wandered between the Gothic towers that stood on either side of the double front doors and into the interior. It was now a bright day in early spring, and sunlight streamed through the ornate stained glass windows onto rows of wooden pews placed between limestone pillars.
"We've taken down a lot of the decoration," O'Rourke said. "I don't want anyone to walk in here and feel unwelcome."
"How do you manage to hold services for everyone?"
O'Rourke gave a quiet chuckle. "Oh, I'm quite creative, believe me. The Christian denominations share enough to make it possible to have a unified service for them, but we also have general celebrations that have, shall we say, a very light touch. And other faith groups are welcome to hold their own services with their own leaders. I trust you found last Sunday's service palatable, though it was largely Christian in nature."
"I wear my religion fairly lightly, Father, believe me. Perhaps even more so since the Long Night, but let's not dwell on that for now, it's such a nice day."
The priest's face dropped. "I'm afraid I am going to have to darken it a little."
He led her into a small room off the south transept and gestured her into a chair before fussing with a coffee maker.
"What is it, Brian?"
"I hear whispers, Bella," he said, handing a mug to her. "I believe our community has been infiltrated."
"By who?"
He sat down in the chair opposite her and sighed. "I'm only hearing rumors, you understand? But someone is agitating. The message seems to be that you're going about it all the wrong way, that having people working in the fields is turning folk into Amish or winding back the clock. Folk don't want to be peasants, that's what I hear."
"Surely it's better to have food than not?"
O'Rourke shrugged. "Of course, but they seem to think there's an alternative to growing our own."
This was too much. She'd expected to face huge challenges in turning Elizabeth into a viable community in this chaotic world, but she hadn't anticipated that laziness would be one of them. These people had survived the greatest catastrophe to befall humanity and she, and her colleagues, had shown them a way forward, a plan for a sustainable future. But it was too much work.
"What possible alternative can there be? We're gathering supplies from further and further afield. Skulls has raided the outskirts of Memphis, but the deeper he goes, the greater the resistance. The time will come when we'll have to rely on what we can grow if we want fresh food and then, eventually, if we want any food at all. There is only so much left out there, and as it gets scarcer, people will get more and more desperate and violent to protect what they have."
The priest put down his cup and sighed. "You're a wonderful mayor, Bella. Heck, you're a wonderful person. But you suffer from one fatal flaw."
"And what's that?"
"You think most people are fundamentally good, that they will come together to look after the community as a whole. But, in truth, most people only think of themselves and if they can get ahead by stepping on someone else, you better believe they'll do it. Your father's market, much though I welcome it, is one example of that."
Bella shook her head. "How can you think like that? You're a priest. These people are your flock."
"Well, the official line of my church is that humans are, by the
ir nature, sinful, but whether you hold with that, or believe that we are simply naked chimps, our essentially selfish nature is obvious to anyone who cares to look. And that selfishness comes out most when people feel threatened, like now."
"I appreciate your warning, Father, but the fact is we are coming together as a community."
"Some of us are, Bella, but many are not, and resentment is growing."
Bella drained her mug and got up. "I don't agree that things are that black, and even if I did, what could I do about it?"
O'Rourke got to his feet and opened the door for her. "Get tough, Bella, and quickly."
"There's some folk waiting for you upstairs," Skulls said after he'd released her from his strong embrace.
Bella sighed and rolled her eyes. She'd spent the hours since her cryptic meeting with O'Rourke attending to at least half a dozen minor matters, from inspecting the power installation at the newly created school to discussing the lack of flour with the harassed woman who ran the town bakery. If there was one symbol of civilization the person in the street valued above all others, it was fresh bread, so this shortage had the makings of a crisis.
By the time she finally arrived back at the town hall, skirting around the market for fear of running into her father, she was starving and in desperate need of some down time. But it was obviously not to be.
"Who is it?"
Skulls shrugged. "Newcomers. The sheriff buzzed me on account of not being able to reach you. They turned up at the barrier in an armored car with enough firepower to blast it to pieces, but they was polite enough when I spoke to them. Wanted to meet with the big chief, so I invited them in. Said they're with some organization that can help us. I asked if they were FEMA, but they wouldn't answer any more questions. So, I brought them inside, told them to leave the armored car and goons at the barrier and I'd go find you."
Bella smoothed her hair with the palm of her hand. "I must look a mess."
He leaned forward and kissed her. "You'll do," he said, stepping back to allow her to pass. "D'you want me to come in with you?"
She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the stairs.
There were two of them. Both wore black suits, the man a classically tailored two piece, the woman in jacket and mid-length skirt. He had an East Asian appearance whereas she was the light brown of milky tea.
"I'm sorry if you've been kept waiting," Bella said as she bustled in. Skulls followed her, taking up position beside the door.
"It's no problem," the woman responded in an unusually deep voice and, if Bella wasn't mistaken, a New York accent. She held out her hand as Bella made her way towards her chair. "I'm Christy Russo, and this is my colleague Henry Lin. Do we have the honor of meeting the mayor of this town?"
Bella shook the offered hand—the grip was firm and dry—and took her seat. "Please, sit down. Yes, I am Bella Masters and, for my sins, I am the mayor of Elizabeth."
"What does this mean, 'for my sins'?" Lin said as he sat down.
Russo gave a little tut and turned to him. "It is a humorous turn of phrase, Henry. Essentially it means 'I don't know how I got myself into this.'"
Lin nodded, apparently satisfied.
"Tell me, who do you represent and what brings you to Elizabeth?" Bella asked. She could feel the shadow of a bad head forming and wanted the meeting over as quickly as possible.
"We are here to offer help, Madam Mayor," Russo said.
Bella stiffened a little. "What makes you think we need help?"
"Well, you have certainly achieved much in bringing together what is obviously a large community. But you are currently surviving on the remains of what went before."
"Not entirely," Bella said, feeling aggravated at this woman's patronizing tone. "We are planting crops that will provide fresh food within a couple of months. Soy and broad beans are already being sown and we'll also have a wheat crop, once we can source a large supply of seed grain."
Russo smiled. "Don't get me wrong, I mean it when I say you've done incredibly well. We've traveled a long way and yours is one of the most successful communities we've seen. But you can't grow medicines or make cloth, for example. Many of the things that make us civilized were lost over the Long Night and the days after. We can help restore them."
"How is that possible? Are you from DC?"
"No," Russo said, shaking her head. "You will receive no help from the mock government in Washington. We represent your best hope of restoring and maintaining a working community with many of the trappings of civilization. Work with us, and we will help secure your long-term peace and prosperity."
Bella leaned back in her chair, her eyes drifting over to where Skulls stood. He shrugged, as unsure of what to make of this as she was.
"If you're not the Federal Government, then who are you?" she asked.
Russo pulled a business card from an inner pocket and slid it across the desk. "We represent the largest surviving corporate entity in the United States and, quite possibly, the world. We're here to help you, Madam Mayor. We are the Lee Corporation."
Chapter 10
"This is crazy," Tucker whispered as they hid behind a countertop in what had once been Alldays Department Store. "Five of us against how many of them?"
"Petrov, how many men does Liang have?"
Custer Petrov exchanged a few words in Russian with his two bodyguards. After a lot of shrugging he turned back to Paulie. "Not many. Outside, six are dead. We think, perhaps, another six inside."
So, they were facing a half-dozen trained soldiers able to choose their defensive positions and armed with assault rifles. Paulie had taken basic training in the military and Marvin was a veteran, but she was willing to bet Custer didn't know one end of a gun from the other. His goons, however, looked capable enough. Ex-KGB, probably.
And, of course, there was the small matter of the innocent people trapped inside with the Chinese occupiers. Paulie felt as though she was being expected to thread a needle wearing a blindfold. The enemy held every card. But the hand would only get worse the longer the game went on. Whatever she was going to do had to happen quickly because the Reaper was the ace in the hole.
"Custer, where are most people being kept?"
"In hospital," he said. "Some workers upstairs."
"What are the workers used for?"
Custer shrugged. "They look after soldiers, look after town. Soon, many more Chinese arrive, I think."
"How many of them are there?"
"Twenty, maybe. Most are women. Few men. Liang thinks, perhaps, that women are less trouble than men. He does not know women."
Paulie gave a grim chuckle, though she felt the burden of choice settling upon her. She could head to the upper floor and try to release the workers. If she succeeded, her forces would outnumber the Chinese. But they'd be unarmed, and inevitably many would die in the ensuing battle. On the other hand, what chance did they have if they tried to tackle the enemy on their own?
"First things first," Paulie said. "You know the room where the Reaper is being kept?"
"Reaper?"
"The big black drone—it's a killing machine. We have to disable it. I don't think Liang will activate it unless he has to. They obviously have a plan for it and to start it up early would be to acknowledge that he couldn't handle a small band of rebels. I'm betting he'd be reluctant to do that."
Petrov nodded. "You are correct, Sheriff. He is arrogant man. Perhaps we use that against him?"
"We're going for the Reaper, then. Are you with us?"
Petrov chattered to his goons before turning back to Paulie. "I help, so will Alexei and Vlad. Perhaps we are not always on the same side, Sheriff, but Arbroath is our town and we help get our people out."
They crept into the main shopping hall, expecting a hail of gunfire to erupt around them at any moment. But they were met by nothing more than a silence broken by the echoing of their boots on the polished floor. This large room had long ago been cleared of its products and any fixtures and fittin
gs that weren't screwed down. It had been used as a communal meeting place in the time before the militia had invaded and so they crawled between chairs and tables as they inched across to the other side.
"The Reaper is in Consultation Room 5, on this floor. It was used for cosmetic appointments. Two other rooms either side," Petrov said as they rested against the far wall.
"Is there any other way to get to it?" Paulie asked.
Petrov shook his head. "If you mean internal doors, no. Windows to outside, but barred."
"What about approaching it from the other direction? From further inside the store? Can we go around it?"
Petrov scratched his unkempt gray beard, his large round eyes staring at the ceiling as if he was seeing a floorplan of the store written up there. "Yes, I think we can go through storeroom and come out beyond Room 5. Why? Do you wish to go that way?"
"I want you to go that way, Custer. The door of Room 5 will be guarded, and when you see us making our move from this side, you attack from the other. How long do you need to get into position?"
"Ten minutes."
Paulie checked her watch. "We'll make our move in fifteen."
Petrov and his two followers ran off to a door farther along the wall which Petrov opened in one swift movement as Alexei and Vlad pointed their guns into the darkness beyond. With a relieved smile and a thumbs-up to Paulie, Petrov disappeared inside.
"D'you trust him?" Tucker said as they sat, waiting for the quarter of an hour to pass.
"I don't have a choice. What's the saying? 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'"
Tucker snorted. "What BS. Petrov's just an enemy, plain and simple. What d'you think he was doing here before we arrived? Lookin' after the good folk of Arbroath? Don't make me laugh. He collaborated when it suited him, when he thought he could make a buck."
Betrayed: Book 5 in the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival series: (The Long Night - Book 5) Page 8