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

by Ellis, Tara

  “Stop!” Danny shrieked, from somewhere close by.

  Tom attempted to push himself up, but he was forced back down by the muzzle of the automatic rifle being jammed into the back of his neck. “Stay down.” The corporal’s voice was dangerous and Tom froze, knowing he’d crossed too many lines.

  A different sort of weight enveloped him then, and hands wrapped around his shoulders to grab at his chest as Danny threw herself in between Tom and the weapon. “Stop it!” Danny repeated, her mouth close to his ear. “What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be helping people, not stealing from them and killing them!”

  The pressure at the back of Tom’s neck disappeared, but so did Danny, and then two sets of hands lifted him roughly to his feet. Facing Corporal Dillinger, he was pleased to see blood dripping from the man’s nose.

  “We just want to leave,” Tom gasped, still having a hard time sucking air in around the queasiness.

  The corporal leaned in close. “Then that was the wrong move,” he whispered. “Take him,” he ordered, stepping back and looking at his men. “He’s under arrest.”

  Chapter 13

  DANNY

  FEMA Shelter M3, Monida, Montana

  Tom stumbled as one of the soldiers pushed him in the direction of the buildings that made up the small town of Monida. Stopping, he stood his ground and looked back at Danny. “Take care of Ethan.”

  Danny attempted to follow him and the two soldiers, but Corporal Dillinger stepped in her way. She glared at him and did her best to think through what she was going to say. Danny knew she had to be careful. She could probably still leave, and take Sam and Ethan with her. However, that would mean abandoning Tom and the horses. How far would they get without them and all their gear? Which was, of course, the whole point. It was why all the emphasis was placed on keeping people out, instead of the refugees in. They didn’t stand much of a chance out there without any form of transportation, food, or equipment. But unlike most of the other inhabitants of FEMA Shelter M3, Danny and her friends had someplace to go.

  “Now what?” Danny asked the corporal, placing her hands on her hips and doing her best not to look intimidated.

  Corporal Dillinger wiped the blood from his face and gave her a smug look. “After breakfast you’ll be assigned your duties for the day. We all pull our weight here.”

  “What about my dad?” Ethan demanded, moving up beside Danny. He was still holding on to Grace, and it was a good thing he’d grabbed her when Danny tried to intervene with Tom, or else the retriever might have gotten involved.

  “I’ll give him twenty-four hours to cool off,” Dillinger said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down his nose at Ethan. “I can use a man like him, if he can learn his place. Pratt!” the corporal barked when the medic and Sam emerged from the tent. “Show Miss Latu to the women’s barracks on your way to the infirmary.”

  “Ethan needs to stay with me,” Danny objected. She was taking Tom’s request seriously and didn’t want to let the teen out of her sight.

  “What’s happened?” Sam asked, looking around with a concerned look on his face. “Where’s Tom?”

  Danny put a hand on Sam’s arm to stop his questions and leaned in close. “I’ll tell you in a minute, just go along with things for now.”

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me!” Ethan said without trying to hide his irritation. It was obvious to Danny that he was trying to be brave after witnessing his dad being attacked yet again. She knew there was a certain level of truth to his statement, though. He had managed on his own in a horrible situation for days and he certainly wasn’t a child. She held his gaze for a moment and gave him a slow nod of confirmation, without saying anything.

  “Come on, son,” Dillinger said, putting a hand on Ethan’s back to guide him toward the lake. “I’ll show you where to go. You know, we can use strong men like you, too. Have you ever thought of joining the military?”

  Ethan gave Sam and Danny a parting smile, and he released Grace at the same time. The retriever hesitated briefly and then loped back to Danny while whining in apprehension at the same time over Ethan’s departure.

  “It’s okay, girl,” Danny cooed, kneeling down to take Grace’s face in her hands. “He’ll be okay.”

  “Let’s go,” Specialist Pratt said, and Danny looked up to find him watching her intently.

  “I’ll get our bags.” Danny grabbed both hers and Sam’s backpacks, though they were mostly empty. “Why are you doing this?” she turned and asked Pratt, unable to hide her anger any longer. “I get that you’re probably doing your best in an impossible situation to help as many people as you can, but how does that make it okay to steal from us?”

  “What are you talking about?” Sam interjected before Pratt had a chance to answer.

  Danny took a breath and then shook her head at Sam. “Dillinger told Tom we could leave, but that they’ve requisitioned our horses and gear. He arrested Tom after he, um, got upset about it.”

  “Arrested?” Sam turned to look where Tom had been led off.

  “Dillinger said it was for a day,” Danny explained. “But I don’t trust him.”

  Sam’s brows furrowed before he erupted into another coughing spell. As it died down, he cleared his throat and turned on Pratt. “Under martial law, though the government has the right to requisition personal property in an emergent situation, I hardly think stealing horses out from under people and forcing them into compliance without just cause falls within the realm of being reasonable.”

  Pratt waved him off, although not before Danny caught a glimmer of humor in his eyes. She figured there were a couple of different types involved in the shelter. Soldiers who were honestly trying to help and following orders even though they might not agree with them. Then there were men like Dillinger and Pratt, either power-hungry zealots or bigots taking advantage of a horrible situation and then excusing it as necessary.

  “We’re under direct orders from General Montgomery,” Specialist Pratt said, as if that explained everything.

  “Who’s General Montgomery?” Danny asked. When Pratt gave her an exasperated look, her contempt for the man deepened. “No one has told us anything! All we know is what we’ve gathered in passing conversations. That there was a gamma-ray burst that killed, like, half the world, and knocked out all of the electronics. We don’t know much else.”

  Pratt gestured for them to follow him as he led the way past the quarantine tent and towards another, larger one some hundred feet away. There were two other soldiers visible walking nearby, as well as at least four female refugees involved in various tasks, all dressed in the same black clothing.

  “It’s closer to three quarters of the world’s population,” Pratt said without his usual sarcasm. “Almost half when the ray first hit, and then another quarter or more from radiation. People are still dying,” he added, not bothering to look back at them while he spoke. “Except that now it’s by their own hands, or else dehydration brought on by lingering radiation or other illnesses. Like this bacteria that’s shaping up to be the next cholera. It’s a whole new world, kids,” he said without humor.

  “I take it our government survived,” Sam pressed when Pratt fell silent as they neared the tent. “Or else you wouldn’t be here.”

  Specialist Pratt turned then, one hand on the tent opening. “The civilian government is gone. General Montgomery was deemed the highest-ranking official left in the military and he declared martial law. He’s running things out of Cheyenne Mountain.”

  “Colorado,” Danny muttered. The only thing she knew about the facility was from her love for sci-fi and survival shows. It wasn’t a shock to hear that they no longer had a president—or a cohesive country, for that matter—but to know that everything was being overseen by some general in an underground bunker?

  “It’s EMP-hardened,” Pratt continued. “A virtual city, I guess. The rest of our military wasn’t so lucky. We might have survived the flashpoint in the weste
rn half of the country, but we’re still facing the same issues as everyone else. We have some EMP-protected gadgets, but aside from a few generators, we’re all in the same boat.

  “This is your stop,” he said to Sam. “Find a cot, get some sleep, and I’ll come by tonight to check on you.”

  Danny looked around the unimpressive infirmary. She could see a row of cots inside, with only a couple of them occupied. A woman was seated at a table, and Danny assumed she was some sort of nurse or technician.

  “I’ll be fine,” Sam reassured her.

  “I’ll come back later, too,” Danny promised, looking at Pratt and challenging him to contradict her. When he shrugged at her instead, she gave Sam a quick hug goodbye. “Rest up. We’re getting out of here tomorrow,” she whispered in his ear.

  After they parted, Danny once again followed Pratt, who was leading her deeper into that section of the camp. It was comprised of a dozen other large canvas tents in an orderly row, six to a side. Two large fire pits occupied the space in between them, as well as three picnic tables. The handful of women Danny had already seen were busy moving water, firewood, and large plastic containers around. Two others were working with a soldier to set up another tent in what would eventually be a new row.

  “We don’t have a whole lot of refugees yet,” Pratt explained, leading Danny to the nearest tent and confirming their plans for expansion. “There are more in the men’s barracks on the other side of the lake, and then we have families housed together at the far end.” He pointed to the space at the western edge of the field, and the farthest limits of the encampment. She saw several columns of smoke and could hear the faint sound of children’s laughter.

  Danny shook her head, trying to balance out the comforting scene of safety with what had just happened to them and Tom. “Why steal from us?” she demanded again. Facing the medic, Danny was reminded of the sort of man he was as he looked her over before taking a calculated step closer. Acutely aware of the black uniform she wore, Danny had no delusions about her position there and the power the soldier had over her.

  Pratt grinned. “Because we can.”

  Chapter 14

  CHLOE

  Miller Ranch, Mercy, Montana

  “Bishop!” The front door hadn’t even finished swinging shut before Chloe ran from the kitchen and threw her arms around the older man. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed him until she saw him standing there.

  Bishop returned the embrace and then stepped back with a surprised look on his face. “I’m okay,” he said, holding her at arm’s length. “It was just a precaution. I told Patty to let you know I wasn’t sick.”

  Chloe stepped back and looked down at her feet, embarrassed. With everything that had happened, and after looking up to Bishop like a father figure for nearly two weeks, he’d come to mean a lot to her. Another reason why his actions at the lake had thrown her for such a loop. “She told me,” Chloe answered, offering a small smile. “But… Well, a lot happened while you were gone. I need to talk to you about a couple of things,” she added, leaning in close and dropping her voice to a whisper.

  Bishop frowned and rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin. “Yes, I know. I wish I could have gone to the service. And I promise to answer your questions.” He looked over his shoulder. “Later.”

  Patty and Sheriff Waters filed in behind Bishop, with Sandy bringing up the rear. Using her arms, she ushered them all to various couches and chairs in the large family room, like a farmer herding sheep. The tall windows that lined the front of the log house offered plenty of lighting, though the stone fireplace was cold and dark. Chloe found herself longing for the sense of comfort the fire offered, even though it was another hot summer day. Sandy had almost lit it a couple of nights ago though, when the temperature took an unseasonable plummet.

  “Sorry to steamroll you as soon as you step foot in the house,” Patty was saying to Bishop. “But this can’t wait.”

  The edge in Patty’s voice pulled Chloe’s attention from thoughts of the weather and Bishop’s kung fu to the present. She frowned at the mayor. Chloe had spent a couple of afternoons at her place the past week, helping with chores around their property and she’d gotten to know Patty. While always a little understandably high-strung, this was something more.

  “We’re having supply issues with both the water and food much sooner than we thought we would,” Patty explained. She glanced at the sheriff while rubbing her hands together. “While we can obviously pull as much as we need from the river, boiling and hauling enough to keep up with the needs of over six hundred people demands more manpower than we currently have. I’ve had to recruit just about every able-bodied resident to keep the supply train going.”

  “We need that spring functional,” Sheriff Waters said bluntly. “It’s half the distance to town as the river, and without having to boil it, we’ll cut our production time in half.”

  “It’ll still have to be filtered.” Bishop stood and began pacing. “I’ve given that a lot of thought and think I’ve come up with a reasonable solution with the natural supplies we have.”

  “A natural filtration system?” Sandy asked.

  “That’s all it needs,” Patty agreed. “The state analysis showed contaminants well below the acceptable levels. “In fact, it’s cleaner than our reservoir water was after being treated. Just remove the sticks and whatever dirt works its way in, and we’re good.”

  “I don’t care about it being filtered so long as it’s safe to drink,” Sheriff Waters said, his voice strained. “We’ve got over a dozen outlying homes that haven’t had any water delivered going on two days now. They don’t have the means to travel into town and carry it on their own. We’re going to start losing people.”

  Sandy balked. “So get more horses out there moving it around! Take some of mine,” she waved a hand toward her barn. “I have two extra right now you can take back with you.”

  “Do you have riders for those horses?” the sheriff asked. “We’ve got plenty of horses, Sandy. That isn’t the issue.”

  “I’ll go help this afternoon,” Chloe offered. She was chilled by the news. In spite of how challenging things had been, she’d had no idea they were so close to self-imploding. Chloe felt guilt over her afternoon at the spring, and the fact she’d slept in the day before. She should be doing more.

  Patty reached out and took one of Chloe’s hands. “We know you’d help. The reality is that you aren’t able to lift a five-gallon container of river water onto the back of a horse. And that’s if we had enough five-gallon containers to move the amount of water we need daily. We don’t. We’re also short of pots large enough to boil the water fast enough.” She dropped Chloe’s hand and ran her fingers through her hair, pulling more strands from the already messy bun on her head.

  “We’re already working at the maximum limit we’re physically and logistically capable of,” Sheriff Waters said. “It’s simply not enough. It isn’t working so we have to change tactics. We need that spring, Bishop.”

  “Caleb and Chief Martinez were going to go out there and see if they could figure something out while you were gone,” Sandy said, turning to Bishop. “Then we had the cholera scare and all the deaths…and they had other things to deal with.”

  “I went.” Everyone turned to look at Chloe, and she cringed under the attention. “Yesterday. I took Trevor and Crissy out there to get the measurements you said you’d need.” Jumping up, she ran to the kitchen and retrieved her notebook. “Here.” Handing the drawing to Bishop, she pointed at the lines and numbers. “I think you were right. There’s plenty of room to dig this out. We should be able to increase the flow.”

  Smiling, Bishop checked the diagram carefully before looking up at her. “Please tell me there’s a downhill slope?”

  Chloe nodded. “Not much, but probably enough to move it a little ways before it’s collected. I’m guessing that’s where you want to build the filtration system?”

  “Exactly.” Bishop p
ointed a finger at Patty. “I’m going to need a team of strong diggers, a few horses, and some sort of travois or wagon to move some heavy material around.”

  “Whatever you need,” Patty said eagerly. “Why don’t you make me a list to take back to town? We’ll have everything ready to go in the morning.”

  Bishop turned the page in the notebook and began writing.

  “There’s something else we need to discuss,” Sheriff Waters said.

  Chloe’s smile wavered. She didn’t like the way that sounded. Patty again looked pained, but this time she was staring at Sandy.

  “You need beef,” Sandy offered, before Patty could say anything.

  “The farmers’ market idea you presented is brilliant, and we’ve got a team working on building the stands and getting it set up at the northern end of town,” Patty replied. “Eventually, we’ll enclose it before winter hits so it can go year-round, but yeah. You know even better than I do that we don’t have enough protein.”

  “Still nothing from the hunting teams we sent out?” Sandy asked Sheriff Waters.

  The sheriff shook his head. “Deputy Moore organized three teams of our best hunters, but you know those mule deer head for higher ground this time of year. I’m sure they’ll find them, but it’s going to take some time.”

  “We can only catch so many fish,” Patty added. “We’re trying to smoke a certain percentage of it, to add to our winter stockpile, so that’s cutting into our available supply, too. If it weren’t for our plentitude of eggs, we’d be in much bigger trouble.”

  “I’ve finished inventorying all of the cattle,” Sandy said without preamble. “Well, aside from Mr. Craven. He refuses to take part in anything, including providing any meat for the town. He’s got close to two hundred head, is my best guess.”