Flashpoint Box Set, Vol. 1 | Books 1-3

by Ellis, Tara

  Chloe shook her head and then stood slowly so she wouldn’t disturb Crissy. There was plenty of sunlight coming in through the one large window in the room, so she might as well get up. Padding to the door in bare feet, she gratefully accepted a robe the older woman held out to her. She’d been reduced to wearing her one remaining T-shirt that wasn’t filthy as a nightgown. “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.”

  “Ugh. I’m not that old yet. Please, call me Sandy.”

  Chloe smiled up at Sandy. She was a tall woman with broad shoulders and sparkling blue eyes. She reminded Chloe of her grandma, who’d passed away two years ago. She’d always told Chloe she got her spunk from her, and something told her Sandy wasn’t short on spirit.

  “How’s Trevor?” Chloe asked as she followed Sandy through the large house and out onto the back patio. She had to admit that in an odd way, she was troubled to not hear the younger boy’s ragged breathing all night long. She’d grown accustomed to it.

  As soon as they stepped outside, Chloe smelled a medley of cooked eggs and onions. Searching out the source, she saw an outside cooking area off to one side. Red bricks had been used to create a stove, with stone counters extending to each side and bar stool seating. Unique wooden chairs were clustered around a picnic table in the center of the patio, offering more seating. The barbeque had been jury-rigged so that a cast-iron skillet was set over a smoldering fire. Sandy removed the food and scooped some out onto a nearby plate before offering it to Chloe. Thick slices of fried potatoes were mixed in with the eggs, onions, and even mushrooms.

  “This looks amazing.” Chloe’s mouth was watering so much that she had to wipe at it. It tasted even better than it looked.

  Sandy laughed. “Trevor is doing fine. He and Ripley already ate and headed into town to see the doctor.”

  “He’s okay?” Chloe’s brows drew together with concern.

  “Oh, yes. I just thought it would be a good idea to have her look him over, considering how much epinephrine he’s been injected with over the past couple of days.” Sandy led them to an arrangement of outdoor furniture and they sat down opposite each other. “He claims to be breathing better, though.”

  Chloe shoveled the last bite of food into her mouth and washed it down with a glass of water that was already sitting on the table near her. She closed her eyes and relished the cool, crisp water. She’d gotten used to the hot, plastic-tasting water from her camel pack. “Where did this come from?” she asked, holding the glass up.

  Sandy stood and motioned for Chloe to follow her. The pride she felt for the Miller farm was evident as she pointed out the different features. “Over there’s the primary barn; the stockyard is behind it. We have five hundred acres that go up and over the mountain, which includes two lakes and some of the world’s best pasture.” They stepped through a gate and out of a tall wire fence surrounding the backyard area. “This is to keep the elk and deer out,” she explained. “Otherwise, it would be impossible to have a garden.”

  Chloe looked back at the far corner of the large yard and saw a good thirty-by-thirty section cordoned off with a two-foot high fence to keep rabbits out. Two rows of corn dominated the back part of it, while other things she wasn’t familiar with filled the rest. Fresh dirt was turned over outside of the fence.

  “I’m working on expanding it,” Sandy said. “It’s late to be planting anything, but with everything that’s happened, I figured I should try.”

  “The food I just ate,” Chloe said, looking at Sandy with a new level of respect. “Did all of that come from here?”

  Sandy laughed and began walking again, shooing at a chicken along the way. “Of course it did, Chloe. This is a working farm. While it hasn’t been self-sustaining for a very long time, it once was, back when my grandfather first built it.” She stopped in front of what looked like a cast-iron candy cane.

  Chloe studied the apparatus, taking in the moving lever and faucet-shaped head. “Wait, is that some sort of water pump?”

  Sandy smiled and nodded approvingly. “Yes! Very good. That’s exactly what it is. A deep well hand pump, which used to be the only source of drinkable water on the farm. My father installed an indoor one at one point, in the kitchen, but my husband, in all of his misplaced wisdom, removed it twenty years ago.”

  “This is the water I was drinking?”

  “Some of the best water in the valley,” Sandy said with pride. “Go on. Try it.”

  Chloe lifted the handle and with some effort, was able to compress it once and then twice, the motion becoming easier with each pump. Soon, cold water was flowing and she stopped, feeling guilty about wasting it.

  “There’s more water in there than we’ve ever been able to use,” Sandy said. “Though not every well is created equal, and plenty of folks around here have struggled with a lower water table the past few years. And that isn’t to say I’m not struggling now with the cattle.”

  Chloe looked at her questioningly. “How so?”

  “Well, both the water used for watering the fields as well as the cattle troughs is normally pumped from this well.” Sandy pointed to a small wooden structure located twenty feet away. “The electric pump is housed there, as well as all the piping for the main house and the barns. Without it, I can manage to carry in enough drinking water, but the cattle and fields are a completely different story.”

  “You said there’s a couple of lakes on the property,” Chloe replied. “Can’t the cows drink that?”

  Sandy smiled again at Chloe’s quick rationalizing. “That’s exactly what they’re doing. Well, from the creek that leads out of the largest one, to be exact. The problem is distance and location. I can get away with leaving them in the upper pasture for now, except I’ll eventually have to bring them down when the weather turns, and I’ll need to have solved my water supply problem by then. Especially since the grass they normally live off the rest of the year is going to burn up over the next few months without watering.”

  Sandy started back to the house, but Chloe stayed for a minute and looked up at the land rising steeply behind them, up the side of the mountain. She then turned to study the lower fields and stockyard, and then finally the pump.

  “Let’s go find you some clothes,” Sandy called back to her. “I think some of my grandson’s T-shirts and sweats he left here last year might work.”

  Chloe rushed to catch up, ignoring the fact that Sandy wanted to dress her in some boy’s old clothes. “What about a gravity-fed water system?”

  Sandy paused just inside the large sliding-glass doors. Turning around to face Chloe, she crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head at her. “What do you mean?”

  Chloe moved past her and sat on a tall barstool at the kitchen counter. “You said the lake was in the upper pastures. So, do it how they used to in the…ugh, I dunno how long ago it was, but hasn’t pretty much every ancient civilization used some sort of gravity-driven system to move water and waste around?”

  Sandy sat on the stool next to Chloe, squinting as she stared off into space, thinking. “Instead of moving the herd to the source, move the source to the herd,” she mumbled. “It would take a ton of piping.” She grabbed at a notebook and pen on the counter and began drawing a picture. “But if I moved the trough here…and created some sort of cistern here…” She looked up from her rough doodles and stared at Chloe. “Why in the world didn’t I think of this?”

  “Probably because you were too close to the problem to see it clearly,” Chloe offered. “That’s what my dad would always—” she trailed off, her voice catching. Guilt once again took her breath away and her thoughts became jumbled. Where were her parents? Were they even alive? Those questions had been a big part of keeping her awake most of the night. The not knowing was incredibly frustrating and she felt so helpless.

  Sandy placed a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. She was thankful that the older woman didn’t try to hug her. She didn’t need a shoulder to cry on, just some reassurance. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I know this h
as all been a horrible shock. Didn’t you say last night that you’re from Washington State? From what we’ve heard, that’s likely one of the safer places to be right now. You have to believe that you’ll be reunited with them again at some point. Right now, though, they would want you to do whatever was necessary to stay safe and trying to travel that far would not be safe. Not yet.”

  Chloe swallowed and then cleared her throat before meeting Sandy’s empathetic eyes. Again, she was reminded of Grandma Benson and could almost imagine the floral perfume she always wore. “What am I supposed to do?” Her voice came out thin and broken, mirroring how she felt inside.

  “I have plenty of room here on the farm,” Sandy said with firm resolution. “And plenty of work that needs to be done.” She stood then and went to one of the bookshelves next to the fireplace. From it, she lifted a framed picture and brought it back to where Chloe sat. “This is my son, Thomas, and my grandson, Ethan.”

  Chloe took the picture, her eyes welling with tears as she understood the depth of Sandy’s pain. “Where are they?” she whispered.

  Sandy’s nostrils flared and her jaw clenched. “They’re on their way home.” When Chloe remained silent, she took the picture back and held it tightly to her chest. “Thomas went down to Vegas to bring Ethan back for the summer. They stopped along the way to pick up some horses. I received a text message a few hours before…the flashpoint. I figure they were around three to five hundred miles away.”

  Chloe hung her head and thought about the various scenarios that could have occurred. “He must be pretty tough if you’re his mom,” she finally offered, grinning up at Sandy.

  Laughing, the older woman sniffed once and then went to put the picture back. “Young lady, you have no idea.”

  Bishop tromped up onto the back porch then, dusting his pants off before coming inside. He was wearing leather work gloves and there was a thick sheen of sweat on his forehead. “I split that wood, Sandy, and stacked it up alongside the garage. If you tell me where your tools are, I’ll go fix the door on the henhouse. You don’t want them left exposed at night.”

  “Thank you, Bishop,” Sandy offered. “There are some pesky coyotes hanging around lately, so you’re right about that door. I’ve been meaning to fix it, but there’s simply too many things for me to do.”

  Chloe was strangely relieved that Sandy wasn’t using Bishop’s real name. Perhaps because it was a simple constant in a sea of changing tides.

  A knock at the front door ended any further conversation. Chloe figured it would be Ripley and Trevor returning, and was surprised to see a man in a police uniform at the door, instead.

  “Deputy Campbell,” Sandy announced, swinging the door wide so the man could come inside. “It’s nice to see you. Is everything okay? Patty…I mean, Mayor Woods asked for an updated food list by tomorrow.”

  The deputy removed his hat and nodded at Sandy, but then paused when he saw Chloe and Bishop. “I heard you had some visitors,” he said while gesturing at them with his hat. Looking back at the ranch owner, he was clearly uncomfortable. “Um, Mrs. Miller, the mayor has called another meeting for this afternoon that she wants you to attend.” He glanced at Bishop. “As well as your guests.”

  Sandy tilted her head at him and crossed her arms. “Now, Jim, are you going to tell me what this is about? You’re looking like the boy I caught swimming in my lake when he was what, about fifteen?”

  Jim shuffled his feet and fiddled with the brim of his hat. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Miller, there’s been some new discussions about…outsiders. Your friends who went into town will meet you there,” he said to Bishop. “You’d best bring their things.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Sandy pressed, her patience clearly wearing thin.

  “We’re closing off the town to any newcomers,” the deputy announced, slamming the hat back onto his head. Chloe’s new sense of belonging rapidly faded as he stared first at her and then Bishop. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave Mercy.”

  Chapter 14

  PATTY

  Mercy City Hall

  Patty did her best to avoid eye contact with the group of strangers with Sandy. The three kids and young woman were seated in chairs against the wall, but the man was standing with a stern look on his handsome face. She guessed he wasn’t more than a few years younger than Sandy, maybe fifty, and was very fit for his age. Based on what she’d heard, she had expected a more needy-looking group of destitute hikers. It was going to make a difficult situation even more impossible.

  Gary leaned over from where he was sitting beside Patty and spoke under his breath. “Is it really necessary to have them here?” He glanced up at the group of strangers and then back at Patty. “I thought they would already be gone by now.”

  Patty bit back the retort that instantly came to mind. While she and Gary had been working surprisingly well together, they still had their fundamental differences. “I asked that they attend. We at least owe them and Sandy an explanation.”

  “To what purpose?” he pressed. “We don’t owe them a thing. You heard what Sheriff Waters said.”

  “Perhaps the sheriff can share his update with all of us,” Ned Allen interrupted. Gary had the decency to at least look chagrined at the previous mayor’s obvious admonishment of their not-so-private conversation.

  “Of course,” Patty agreed, standing to face the large group. The meeting room in city hall was nearly overflowing with the combination of council members, committee heads, and other town leaders. She took a couple of steps back to where the whiteboard sat and turning, solemnly wiped the number 652 off with her fist. The marker squeaked as she wrote out 648, the sound eerily loud in a room that had fallen silent.

  “Dr. Olsen informed me this morning that we’ve lost three more residents in the past day. Two of them from dehydration or other complications brought on by what is believed to be radiation poisoning.” Patty raised her hands as the room grew loud with multiple questions being asked at once.

  “I believe it was partly due to underlying conditions,” Melissa shouted. Patty gestured to the doctor, so she stood and joined the mayor at the front of the room. “It would seem that most of us have suffered only mild headaches and some nausea. The very young and old tolerated this less and, in some cases, needed varying degrees of intervention, and are now quickly recovering. The deaths were among those already compromised, such as being diabetic, battling kidney failure, and in one case ongoing chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer. I’m not saying it makes any of those deaths less traumatic, I just want to urge you all not to panic. There was a very definitive wave in the onset and peak of symptoms, which I think we are past.”

  Sheriff Waters stood as Dr. Olsen took her seat. “I’m sorry to inform you all that the fourth death was Kyle Tucker.” A fresh wave of questions and side conversations created a loud droning and the sheriff clapped his hands to restore some order. “His brother Aaron returned very early this morning. As you know, they both volunteered to ride to Helena as scouts and report back on what’s happening outside of Mercy. They successfully reached their relative’s property near the city, but were attacked on their way back.”

  “Attacked?” Mr. Sullivan asked. Although most of his store’s goods had already been dispersed, he retained a place in what was becoming known as the town’s new government. A group of respected leaders all given a voice in the choices being made that would determine everyone’s fate in the coming days.

  “Kyle was shot,” the sheriff explained. “For his horse. At least, that was the attempt which didn’t succeed. He was able to get a shot off before he was hit, and Aaron killed one of the others, prompting the rest of them to run away. The two of them made it back to their uncle’s place, where Kyle ended up bleeding to death.”

  “People are just running around shooting each other?” Gary asked, his face ashen. “My God, how could things break down this fast?”

  “That wasn’t even inside the city,” Sheriff Waters countered. �
�According to Aaron, they didn’t even attempt going into Helena. He said it looked like most of the city center had either burned or was still burning and the fire had spread to a large portion of the town. It was total chaos with looting, fights, and no sign of any government or law. It’s been two days more since then, so people are going to be even more desperate to meet their basic needs. They’ll be turning from fear to a blind panic for survival. It won’t be someone willing to kill for a horse, it’ll be a feral attack for water or food.”

  “And you want to send these kids out into that?” Sandy stood and pointed an accusatory finger at her best friend. “How can you be so callous?”

  Patty cringed. She had planned on speaking with Sandy prior to the meeting, to explain things, but had been delayed at the gas station. Al was already running low on gas and the generators would be dry in less than a week. She glanced at one of the precious lights, resigned to the fact that they’d be unplugging it after the meeting. They had to conserve as much as they could for the clinic.

  “It isn’t that we don’t feel for them.” Patty couldn’t look Sandy in the eyes. She knew there was no way she could justify the move to her. “But Aaron made it clear that there’s a mass exodus underway at Helena, and while most of them are going in other directions, it’s inevitable that some will make their way here. It’s simple math, Sandy. We don’t have enough resources to take in outsiders.”

  “I’m not staying.”

  Patty looked at the woman referred to as Ripley. She’d seen her earlier at the clinic with the boy who had asthma issues. Melissa had given him an inhaler, another poignant example of why closing the city down was imperative. Patty couldn’t help but think that they now had one less inhaler for their own people and it was a life-saving medication.

  “I don’t care how dangerous you say it is,” Ripley said to the sheriff. “My fiancé is in Helena, and I’m going.”

  The short girl with spikey black hair with purple tips reached out then and took Ripley’s hand. Patty thought her name was Chloe. Ripley looked surprised by the gesture and gave Chloe’s hand a squeeze before turning back to the sheriff.