Defiance: A House Divided (The Defending Home Series Book 2)

by William H. Weber

  “Where is she?” Walter asked. “At the very least I’d like to talk to her, get her side of the story.”

  “She’s already given it,” Ann said. “Everything Dale told you is true and let me be the first of us to say that I not only disapprove of what Nicole has done, I hate it with all my heart. Dale opened up his house to us and this was how she repaid him. That’s not the way we raised her.”

  Across the room, Walter sat, silently agreeing with his wife.

  “Zach and the others haven’t been shy about asking for her execution. I know as her mother you’ll expect me to do everything in my power to save her life, but there has to be a way we can make up for this. There are so few of us against so many. It may not look it, but Walter taught both of us how to shoot a gun. Strictly speaking she isn’t our blood, I know, but...”

  Hearing Ann beg was making the situation so much harder.

  “Doesn’t matter a lick to me if Nicole was adopted or not,” Walter cut in. “She’s our daughter and I love her. But if she did what you’re accusing her of, then she needs to pay for that.”

  “What do you recommend?” Dale asked.

  “A secret vote,” Walter replied. “Each of us fills out a ballot with one of three options. The highest number wins.”

  “And what shall we set as the terms of punishment?”

  “Banishment,” he said. “Rehabilitation or...” Walter paused. “Execution.”

  Dale nodded. “That sounds fair. And if they pick the last option? What then?”

  Walter’s eyes hardened. “Then I’ll do it myself.”

  Ann’s knees gave out and Dale caught her. “I’ll get started right away,” he said. “But I can tell you right now I don’t see anyone voting for rehabilitation and for many of us, banishment feels like she’d be getting off easy.”

  “It is what it is,” Walter replied stoically. “I fought North Koreans and Chinese forces who wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in my head, and yet this might be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to face.” He half smiled. “But when is doing the right thing ever easy, right?”

  Dale agreed with his friend and left the room, certain he couldn’t have said it better himself.

  Chapter 21

  Dale went outside to find Colton and Dannyboy out front, working on the trench nearest the driveway. Further down, Sandy and Brooke were hard at work doing the same while Zach was mending the fence the cartel had knocked over during their attack. He would speak to each of them one at a time, outlining his conversation with Walter as well as the importance of what they were doing. Nicole had conspired against them and they needed to vote their conscience on an appropriate punishment.

  Zach was fiddling with a length of barbed wire when Dale finished.

  “I don’t need a paper,” he said after the explanation was over. “You know as well I do that she needs to die.”

  “That may be so,” Dale replied. “But everyone gets their say.”

  “We’re a real democracy, aren’t we?”

  Dale didn’t like his tone. “When it comes to making decisions of life and death, we sure are.”

  Zach removed his dirty work gloves, took the paper, wrote death, folded it over and then slid it into Dale’s shirt pocket.

  “We might not see eye to eye,” Dale said, removing the scrap. “But I expect us to get along and respect one another. I won’t put up with any less.”

  “Listen, I’m not trying to make a big deal,” Zach replied. “For me, loyalty and trust are key. A person breaks that, they’re as good as dead to me anyhow.”

  Dale had finally found something he and Zach could agree on. He clapped him on the shoulder and left to speak with Sandy and Brooke.

  Both of them were unsettled by the notion of Nicole being killed.

  “It’s not like she actually put a gun to someone’s head and pulled the trigger,” Brooke said, staring down at the blank piece of paper.

  “Maybe not,” Dale retorted. “But just think if she’d gotten her way. All of us would either be dead, imprisoned or homeless.”

  “What if Shane put her up to it?” Sandy protested. “I mean, would that make her guilt as strong?”

  “Shane is a lot of things,” Dale told them. “But a mastermind he isn’t. What they did took planning and determination. Those are not qualities Shane possesses.”

  Sandy leaned on her shovel and dabbed the sweat from her forehead. “So you’re saying she manipulated your brother?”

  “Even if only by stoking a flame that was already there. She’s always been ambitious. Back when they were only dating, she was always riding Shane for never being successful enough. She was the one who convinced him to open that bar in town and after it failed, to become an electrician, and when that too went nowhere, she begged me to get him a job at Teletech. I did what I could and even that didn’t last. His good looks could get him in the door, but they couldn’t keep him there. Listen, this isn’t a court of law. I don’t have any proof, but I’ve been thinking about it a great deal lately and I’m growing more and more convinced she was the one who first mentioned how Shane had gotten the raw end of the deal after our parents died.”

  “You make her sound like some kind of monster,” Brooke said.

  “I’m not trying to,” Dale said truthfully. “In a way, Nicole was perfect for my brother. And under different circumstances she might have pushed him to accomplish something great. It’s just too bad they chose the easy way.”

  “What did Walter say when you told him?” Sandy asked, saddened by the whole situation.

  Dale shook his head. “Said if everyone voted for death, he’d do it himself.”

  The image clearly left both women feeling disturbed.

  “How are you voting, Dad?” Brooke asked, squinting as she looked up into his eyes.

  “I haven’t decided just yet,” he replied and that was also the truth.

  He was about to walk away to let them figure it out when Brooke called him back. “You remember those feelers you wanted me to send out?”

  “The resistance?”

  She nodded. “I did as you said and found this on one of the posts by the road not long ago.”

  It was a note which read:

  6:00 p.m. The abandoned public works depot. Don’t be late.

  Dale folded up the piece of paper and slipped it into his pocket, right beside Zach’s vote.

  “The three of us will go together,” he said.

  Brooke’s eyes lit up.

  Sandy was in the middle of telling them they should be careful, that they didn’t know who these people were, when they heard the distinct sound of a single gunshot coming from around back.

  Chapter 22

  They raced around the house to find the retractable stairs had been lowered. Ten yards from the barn a body lay sprawled. Pistol in hand, Dale ran to the prone figure, turned it over and saw that it was Nicole. A single high-powered rifle round had torn through her chest, killing her instantly. His eyes traced up to the window next to the staircase and he saw that it was open, but also that it was empty. Dale ran up the steps, taking them two at a time before ducking in through the opening. Inside the southern bedroom he found his Remington 700 discarded on the floor, as though someone had thrown it down right after taking the shot. Three strides later he was in Walter and Ann’s room. It seemed the old man had done what he had promised to do. Dale found the old couple sobbing in each other’s arms.

  “Why’d you do it?” Dale asked, still reeling.

  Ann shook her head vigorously. “It was me,” she said, her hands trembling. “I untied her and told her to run. She’s in the Lord’s hands now. Let Him be the one to judge her guilt.”

  Slowly, Dale left the room, closing the door behind him so they could have some privacy. A ghostly image of Brooke’s face rose up before him. Dale couldn’t imagine having to make that kind of decision. He hoped he never would.

  •••

  They laid Nicole to rest—Zach,
Dannyboy and Colton conspicuously absent. Dale had to admit, it did seem strange voting on whether to execute someone for treason and then praying over their remains. But he wasn’t doing it for her, he was doing it for Walter and for Ann.

  After they were done, Dale, accompanied by Duke and Brooke, returned to the basement and carried on digging the tunnel, setting up braces every few feet and dragging out the loose earth. It would take a while longer, he knew, and when it was done, he would camouflage the entrance so that anyone who used it to escape wouldn’t find themselves being caught like a rat in a hole. Telegraphing its location would defeat the entire purpose.

  It was half past five when Sandy came down to get him.

  “I’ll give you two a minute,” Brooke said, going upstairs for a drink of water.

  “Geez, you’re covered in dirt,” Sandy said, holding him still while she shook dark granules of earth out of his hair. He closed his eyes, for a moment looking like a child being scolded for messing up his Sunday best. Duke snapped playfully at the falling debris.

  “I appreciate it,” Dale said, tilting his head to the left and knocking a few flecks from his ear.

  “We should leave soon.”

  He pulled her in close and she closed her eyes, expecting a kiss. Instead, he squeezed her in a firm and loving hug. That was what he needed most at the moment. Dale wasn’t the type to say much when things were troubling him. He was a man who believed words were cheap and that actions were the only currency that carried any real value.

  They stayed like that for a minute, maybe more. He couldn’t tell, but he’d meant what he said before. He appreciated everything Sandy had done, both big and small.

  They found Zach waiting for them at the top of the basement stairs.

  “You didn’t think you were going to meet this guy without me, did you?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d be interested,” Dale said.

  “Well, I am,” he replied.

  Dale and Sandy shared a look. Zach was unpredictable, but sometimes that could work to your advantage.

  Shortly after, Dale, Zach, Sandy and Brooke piled into the front and back seats of the pickup. Needless to say they were well-armed and Dale was hopeful they would be able to skirt around the existing cartel checkpoints and positions with relative ease. The truth was, Edwardo didn’t have the manpower yet to guard static sites. He apparently wanted his men to remain mobile and nimble.

  The drive to the public works depot along the eastern outskirts of town took close to twenty minutes. Once there they found a large flat space enclosed by a series of concrete slabs. Inside were smaller areas where piles of gravel and sand were kept. To the right, a handful of dump trucks sat parked, each emblazoned with the town name.

  “You sure this is right?” Zach asked from the back, searching in vain for signs of life.

  Dale pulled the note from his pocket and read it again. “Seems that way. What time is it?”

  “Five fifty-eight,” Brooke replied.

  They exited the pickup, weapons in the low ready position. A lone figure appeared near a squat beige building to the right. He drew nearer and Brooke whispered his name.

  “Caleb?” Zack whispered back. He squared his shoulders. “Well, whoever he is, he looks twelve and a half.”

  Brooke elbowed her uncle. “He’s my age and the only reason we’re even here.”

  “I’d ask that you lower your weapons,” Caleb said, now less than thirty feet away. “But somehow I don’t think it’d do any good.”

  “Smart kid,” Zach said, pointing a thumb in his direction.

  “We know about the war you’ve been waging against local law enforcement as well as the cartel,” Caleb began.

  “They’ve been waging war on us,” Dale corrected him. “We came here to meet your boss Nobel and I’m starting to wonder whether he was worth the effort.”

  Nobel emerged from behind a dump truck. “I’m glad you came.” Sunglasses covered her eyes and a blue bandana the rest of her face. She came within a few feet and removed them both.

  Zach rubbed his eyes. “You’re a woman.”

  She stared Zach up and down. “Then it seems we have something in common.”

  “And sharp too,” Sandy noted.

  “My real name is Vickie, but when all of this first began, folks seemed more inclined to listen to someone with a fancy code name.” Her eyes flitted over the group and stopped at the end. “You must be Dale. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Once the introductions were squared away, Vickie explained how she’d formed the organization to fight against the growing autocracy in town, and how with the arrival of the cartel, her job had become so much more important and so much more dangerous. She then outlined her group’s vision for Encendido’s future.

  “You don’t expect Ortega and his men to just pack up and go home, do you?” Zach said with obvious derision.

  Vickie wasn’t impressed. “We have a plan in place,” she began. “Someone important on the inside. But you’ll forgive me if I don’t share the details with people I just met.”

  “Does that plan involve destroying water trucks?” Dale asked.

  “That wasn’t us,” she told them. “I was getting to that. There’s another movement headquartered in an old Baptist church under a man named Calvin, and let’s just say they’ve started pushing back against the cartel and anyone who supports them. They want them dead and gone, no matter the collateral damage. We don’t want our town turned into a war zone and I’ve been trying to reel him in.”

  “Or maybe you could let him do his thing,” Zach said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “If you’re sitting back and hoping the bad guys suddenly find Jesus, we could be waiting around for a long time.”

  If Vickie didn’t like Zach earlier, she was hating him now.

  “Listen,” Zach went on, “I just think the passive approach never got anyone anywhere.”

  “It’s even harder to get anywhere when you and the people around you are dead,” she replied sternly. “We want lasting change. There’s no point trading one dictator for another.”

  “She’s got a point,” Dale piped up. “All I want is for my family and me to be left in peace.”

  Vickie fixed him with her deep brown eyes. “Believe me, that’s something we all want. But you can see now that standing on the sidelines isn’t an option anymore. If not you wouldn’t be here.”

  Dale nodded. “What can we do to help?”

  “That depends. There may be times when some of our agents will need a safehouse, a place to lie low for a few hours or even days. We could also use some resources―”

  “I see where this is going.” Dale cut her off. “You need water.”

  She nodded.

  “How much?”

  “As much as you can spare,” Vickie told him. “I could also use someone like you on our side.”

  Dale grew quiet while Zach looked offended at being excluded.

  “I’m not a soldier,” Dale told her straight up. “I’m a farmer, a family man, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  She wasn’t buying it. “You held off more than one attack when you were outnumbered and probably outgunned.”

  “Not without losses,” he said, his mind going to Shane and Nicole and the festering wound their deception had left. “I’ll do what I can to help, but for now, let’s keep it at that.”

  Vickie put her glasses and bandana back on. “We’ll be in touch,” she said enigmatically and left.

  Dale watched her go, wondering if she was Encendido’s best hope or another townsperson obsessed with playing soldier who would only get innocent people killed.

  Chapter 23

  Zach

  Zach spent the rest of the evening mulling over what Vickie—or Nobel—had told them, all the while formulating a plan of his own. The next morning, after breakfast, he told Colton and Dannyboy to meet him in the barn out back. The air inside was cool and a nice contrast to the stifling heat under t
he baking sun. It looked like the thermometer would push a hundred and ten degrees today. Zach was beginning to appreciate the hardships his ancestors had suffered, trying to tame a wild and unforgiving landscape. In those old pictures you could see how outdoor work had left their skin a deep shade of brown. By contrast, his time in Florence Supermax had left him pasty and nearly translucent. Only now was he starting to get some color back.

  “You gonna finally tell us how it went yesterday?” Dannyboy asked, upset Zach had opted to keep them both in the dark so long.

  “She hated me,” Zach began, not bothering with any kind of context.

  “Who hated you?” Colton asked, confused.

  Zach paused, collecting himself. Some folks were great at telling stories—knew exactly where to start and how to ratchet up to a riveting climax. Zach wasn’t one of those people. He tended to rely on the sheer force of his character to keep those around him following what he was saying. He started at the beginning, telling them all about the meeting with Nobel and her vision of a liberated Encendido, then about the explosion and how some other group had been responsible for it.

  “Sounds to me like she’s all talk and no action,” Dannyboy said with disgust.

  “So what’s this other group that blew up those water trucks?” Colton wondered.

  Zach raised an index finger between them. “That’s where I was heading to, if you’d give me a chance to get there, son.”

  Colton’s expression changed noticeably, but not in reaction to being scolded by Zach. He was beaming with joy at hearing his father call him son for the first time in years.

  Zach hesitated before continuing. “There’s another group operating out there who seem to think along the same lines we do and have already started taking the fight to the enemy.”

  “So what are you suggesting?” Dannyboy asked.

  “Nobel said they were holed up in an abandoned Baptist church,” Zach told them.

  “That’s south of town,” Colton said.

  Zach’s eyes lit up. “Praise the Lord. Grab a few weapons, boys. We’re going for a drive.”