Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I)

by Andrews, Linda

  She pulled the trigger.

  Trent felt the heat along his inner thighs before surrendering to the darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Pulling the wagon, Manny followed Irina, Henry and Connie to the community’s gated entrance. He stuck his hand in his hoodie’s pocket. Despite the afternoon sun, he hunched against the chill. They were going to meet the soldiers for their food rations. He fingered the paper booklet in his pocket. Would his ration card work in this neighborhood? And if it didn’t, what then?

  For the first time in weeks, his belly was full and the niños were clean—even being tutored by Henry’s wife, Mildred. While he could liberate enough food from the empty houses to cover the cost of feeding them for a while, what happened when the food ran out? He was nothing but a Latino. Despite their words, he couldn’t trust that Connie would let him stay.

  There was nothing in it for them.

  As for Irina… He glanced at his best friend’s sister. With her blue eyes and blond hair, she could definitely pass for Connie’s granddaughter. At least once the swelling went down. Connie might even be able to get her a new ration card. Which was good, in a way. But he hated having to think about leaving her behind.

  Propping her cane against her arm, Connie traced the edges of the code box before settling her fingers on the numeric buttons. “I’m the distributer for the neighborhood. Not that there are many of us left. Still, Belinda works days. She does some administrative duty at the hospitals. Then there’s Denise Powers. Poor lamb lost both of her children and has slipped into a bit of a blue funk.”

  Gears ground as the gates parted. Henry put a hand on Connie’s arm until the opening was unimpeded. “Every one’s lost someone. That’s no reason to stay in bed all day.”

  “And then there are the Wilsons and us.” Connie’s cane swished across the asphalt as she led the way. “That’s it. The neighborhood used to be filled with such noise.” She smiled as they passed the gate. “Just like it was today. I’m so glad we found enough bicycles for the little ones.”

  Irina clutched Manny’s arm when the gate started to close. Increasing their pace, they cleared it before it reached the halfway mark. “They certainly enjoyed being out in the sunshine.”

  Connie stepped onto the curb. “I can’t believe the nerve of those gangsters.”

  Gangsters. Shaking his head, Manny lifted the wagon onto the sidewalk and leaned against the block fence. Like Al Capone was going to tear around the corner, Tommy guns blazing.

  “Gangbangers kill people indiscriminately, steal their food, and terrorize youngsters.” Henry wheeled to the entrance and checked the street. “The old and infirm do all the heavy lifting, while the young laze about in bed and contemplate their navels.”

  Manny felt the blood heat his face. He barely slept five hours. As for napping… Today after breakfast was more like passing out then a power nap. He stifled a yawn. Not that he couldn’t use more sleep.

  “Now, Henry.” Using the fence as a guide, Connie followed it to the ground. She groaned before closing her eyes and resting against the block. “Manny and Irina aren’t loafers.”

  Clutching her ribs, Rini lowered herself to the gravel next to Connie. Despite the aspirin and chunk of ice, swelling and bruising still distorted her face. The bandage around her chest snagged the loose tee shirt, causing it to bunch up.

  “No. No, they’re not.” Henry pivoted in his wheelchair and rolled back and forth across the opening. The steel gray ponytail wiggled against the seat back as he moved. “You did a good job of evading those gangbangers.”

  “Not really.” Leaving the wagon by the fence, Manny walked to the curb. At the corner, the Marines and their tanks still stood guard. The haze prevented him from seeing clearly, but he caught the flicker of light. Of course, they could see him with their binoculars. He resisted the urge to shrink back, out of range of their weapons. Ridiculous! He had a legitimate reason for waiting at the corner. “That’s why we had to leave our home. We were the next house on their list.”

  Rini brushed at the tear on her cheek.

  Nice going, Manny. Make your last friend in the world feel bad. “I had planned to leave and was going to scout out a new, safer place.” He half-lied. “The Aspero’s attack provided the perfect cover.”

  “Animals!” Henry spat before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “I hope the Marines gave them an ass full of lead.”

  Connie thumped her cane against the fence. “Mind your language, Henry. There are children present.”

  Henry hunkered low in his chair. “Manny’s a man, Connie. And Irina’s not too far from adulthood. Besides, the Redaction didn’t leave any children behind—just weary souls in young skin.”

  “Don’t you listen to him.” Connie patted Irina’s knee. “We’ll have the little ones laughing in no time. With the whole neighborhood to shop in, we should find enough toys for it to seem like Christmas all over again.”

  Christmas? Manny’s chest seemed to collapse. The niños hadn’t had a Christmas. Momi and Popi had died the day before and his oldest sister on New Year’s. He rubbed his eyes, and then pinched his arm. Pain zipped to his brain. Yeah, well that didn’t prove that he wouldn’t wake up in his old house with nothing to feed the niños and the Aspero pounding at the door.

  “And school.” Henry bumped against the curb. “Mildred can teach them their numbers and letters. No point in them falling behind. That little squirt, Jose, is real bright.”

  Irina smiled before wincing and setting her hand against her cheek. “He’s devious too. Just try to get him to eat something he doesn’t like, and you’ll see the creative ways he disposes of the offending food.”

  Manny nodded. He’d forgotten how clever his little brother could be. Or that food hadn’t always been an obsession.

  Henry laughed—a booming sound that came from his massive chest. “I know all the tricks. Growing up, my parents had this table with hollow metal tubes holding up the Formica top. I used to pop off the covering and shove my peas inside the legs. It took my mom months to figure out where that smell came from.” Shaking his head, he rolled into the street. “Boy, did I get a whooping.”

  Connie chuckled before cocking her head to the side. She patted Irina’s knee before clutching her cane with both hands. Rocking back and forth, she tried to stand. “Ahh, here they come. Three trucks.” Her grin faded as she fell back to the ground. “One’s a Refer.”

  Refer—as in dead body carrying refrigerated truck? Manny stepped off the curb. The Marine at the corner, waved his arm and three trucks turned onto their street. The middle one was indeed a Refer. Jesus Christ. He’d forgotten all about the body the man had tossed over the balcony. Had Connie or Henry found it? Did they think he’d killed her? Were they being so nice to him before turning him in to the soldiers? His feet angled to leave, over the fence, anywhere but here.

  “Probably for the Aspero’s remains.” Scrambling to her feet, Irina cupped the other woman’s elbow and helped her stand. She caught sight of Manny and arched an eyebrow.

  He shook his head. The less Rini knew the better. Shaking his hands, he returned to the wagon. He hadn’t done anything wrong. That had to count for something.

  “Makes sense.” Henry rolled onto the curb before spinning about. “Of course, if it was up to me, I’d let the coyotes eat their remains. Then we’d know they’d been good for something.”

  Brakes screeched as the trucks rolled to a stop before them. Sandwiched between the supply wagons, the Refer hummed. With their guns in their hands, the soldiers jumped from the truck. Their muzzles aimed everywhere and nowhere as they set up the perimeter.

  Manny’s skin itched. He’d seen this before, every week for five and a half months. Yet today, today he knew about a dead body that hadn’t died from the Redaction. He tightened his grip on the wagon.

  Henry rolled his chair over to where another soldier set up a table. “Good afternoon. You wearing those masks to protect you from t
he Ash Pneumonia I heard about on the news?”

  The soldier nodded. “Yes, sir. Although it’s required for us, we’re recommending the young, old and immunocompromised wear one if they’re going to be outside.”

  “What the infirm don’t matter anymore?” Henry smiled as he plunked a handful of ration books on the table.

  The soldier behind the table sifted through the cards. “The infirm are too ornery to do anything they don’t want to do.”

  “Damn right.” Henry waved Manny over.

  He lurched forward before stumbling over his feet. The soldiers! They were the same ones that delivered the rations to his neighborhood. His tongue knotted, refusing to toss out a warning. After a few steps, he found his footing and glanced at Rini. Pleading with her to warn Connie and Henry not to go forward with their story.

  Her eyes widened then traveled to the refrigerated truck and remained locked there.

  The passenger door on the Refer opened and a soldier hopped to the ground. Arrows and bars marked his upper arm. Manny’s heart slammed to a stop. Not him.

  “Ma’am. Sir.” His gaze skimmed Irina. His jaw clenched as his attention stuck to Manny. “Kids.”

  “I—” The rest of the sentence strangled in Manny’s tight throat.

  Angling his chair so the soldiers couldn’t see his face, Henry held his index finger to his lips.

  Manny opened his mouth but Henry shook his head.

  “Ahh, Sergeant Major Dawson.” Connie inched forward, her cane thumping the ground. Her ankle twisted on a rock and she dipped. “These are my grandchildren. They arrived just yesterday from California.”

  Manny frowned as she stumbled. Dropping the wagon handle, he rushed to her aid but she was already on her feet and moving awkwardly forward again. An act. The certainty settled in his gut. But why was the old woman acting as if this was her first day with the cane?

  The sergeant major rocked back on his heels. His eyes crinkled above his face mask. “Is that a fact?”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Connie thumped the curb with the cane. “Because I know for a fact, that Manny has my late husband’s nose and Irina his eyes.”

  The soldier behind the table coughed into his sleeve.

  The sergeant major shook his head. “Brother and sister are they?”

  “Cousins, Sergeant Major.” Connie growled. “Cousins.”

  Manny cleared his throat. Time to fess up. He wouldn’t get the others in trouble, not after they’d taken care of the niños and Irina. “Connie. Henry. The sergeant major knows us from the old neighborhood.”

  “Oh.” Connie straightened then shook in cane in the soldiers’ direction. “Well. Shame on you Sergeant Major for allowing me to waste a perfectly good lie.”

  “My apologies, ma’am.” The soldier tipped his hat. “Perhaps you’ll get a chance to use it another day.”

  Connie grinned. “Maybe, I will at that.”

  “Medic!” The sergeant major’s shout seemed to rattle the skeleton of the supply truck.

  A soldier with a pack slung over his shoulder hustled from the other side of the truck. “Sergeant Major.”

  “See to the girl’s injuries. You.” The sergeant major pointed at Manny. “Front and center.”

  “Now see here, Sergeant Major.” Connie shook her finger in his direction. “Just because Manny isn’t kin, doesn’t mean you can take him from us.”

  “Ma’am.” The sergeant major pushed his hat off and scratched his head. “I don’t have any intention of taking Manny anywhere. I just have some questions to ask.”

  Connie crossed her arms over her flat chest. “Don’t try anything, laddie. We’re watching you.”

  The lead soldier shook his head while another chuckled. The sergeant major silenced him with a look. “You have your ration card?”

  Manny pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. It trembled in his hand. Were they going to take his food, too?

  The sergeant major flipped it open. “You’re three weeks behind. Still have the two little ones, Lucia and Jose?”

  Taking a deep breath, Manny counted to three. Routine questions. They’re just routine questions. “Y-yes, sir.”

  “Acquire any… cousins from California?” Before he could speak the soldier raised his hand. “Because three days after you failed to show up for ration distribution, we picked up the remains of an older woman with three known dependents. One was subsequently accounted for, but two remain at large. And if memory serves, they weren’t old enough to be on their own.”

  Manny nodded. “Mary and Michael. I found them after the Aspero… After their grandmother died.”

  The sergeant major nodded and scratched their names on Manny’s card. “Good to know. Ray, he’s behind on his supplies and has two others besides. See that he gets caught up.”

  The ration card slapped the table before sliding to the edge. Ray caught it before it fell.

  Connie backtracked until she found the wagon. Its wheels squeaked as she pulled it toward the table. “So what have you for us today?”

  “Relax, kid.” The sergeant major blocked his view of the table. “That old lady could take on the whole platoon and win.”

  “I heard that, Sergeant Major.” Connie chuckled as her hands groped for the cards.

  Ray moved them into her path before jumping onto the truck and shouting for items.

  “Manny.” The sergeant major snapped his fingers. A muscular soldier appeared with a paper bag and shoved it into the other man’s hand. Breaking the seal on the bag, the sergeant major peered inside. “What can you tell me about Taylor and Epstein?”

  “The Aspero wanted the rations. All of them.” Manny licked his dry lips. His eyes stung. He blinked them. What was he crying for? He hadn’t been there.

  “The ones with the snakehead tags?”

  “Yeah. Rini says they came to take the food and Mr. Taylor fought back. They went after Basia, er, Mrs. Epstein because she’d already gotten her supplies.”

  The sergeant major pulled out a ration card. Brown and red stained the cover and warped the pages. “Is that when Irina Epstein was assaulted?”

  “No.” Manny scrubbed his face. Stupid tears. “The Aspero wanted Basia to trade Rini to them for the rations.”

  The pencil in the sergeant major’s hands snapped in two. “How bad is her cousin, Stanley? Does he need a medic?”

  Manny gasped for breath. Poor Stash. They’d just left him there. For the rats.

  “Son of a —” The sergeant major cleared his throat. “Where can we find him?”

  “My house.” Manny wiped his nose on his sleeve. Snot glistened before soaking into the hoodie. “Seven-oh-nine Sage Brush lane. H—He’s in my parents’ bedroom. Rini dragged him to us.”

  The sergeant major set his hand on Manny’s shoulder and squeezed. “Listen. The Marines didn’t smoke all the bastards. So if things get bad here, I need you to get everyone to Thirty-Fifth and Bell. You may have to camp out so be prepared.” The soldier dropped the bloody ration card back into the bag. “Ray add Irina Epstein, minor, to Saldana’s list of dependents.”

  Manny backed away. That was it. He’d made it without blabbing about the woman’s body.

  “Sure thing, Sergeant Major.” Jumping to the ground, Ray plucked the last card from Connie’s hand and scribbled on it. The table was now piled high with sacks and cans. Henry began heaving them into the wagon. “Another order of flour, beans, sugar, rice, oats and powdered milk. Plus, two cans of peaches.”

  Connie shuffled the ration cards before rubber banding them together. “No chocolate?”

  “Sorry, ma’am. We—”

  The sergeant major pulled a beige MRE bag from his trouser leg pocket. Reaching inside, he pulled out a handful of red wrappers. “Skittles. And some cookies.”

  “Close enough.” Connie clapped her hands.

  After shutting the bag, the sergeant major tossed the treats to Henry. “One more thing.” The soldier pulled a piece of paper o
ut of his waistband. Using the sharpened end, he scrawled ten numbers across the back. “You got a working phone?”

  “Landline at Connie’s.” Finished loading the wagon, Henry rolled over to them. “Comes and goes with the power.”

  “This is my number. Let me know if you have to bug out. We may be able to give you a lift.” He handed Henry the paper.

  “Will do, Sergeant Major.” Henry folded the note and stuck it in his shirt pocket. “Take care now.”

  Manny jogged over to the wagon. He’d done it. Smiling, he grabbed the handle of the wagon. His thighs strained as he pulled. Finally, it budged.

  “Get that gate open, Connie.” Henry snapped. “Don’t know if that grandson of yours has the strength to get that thing moving again.”

  Irina placed her hand on the sack of flour and pushed. “They’re such big containers. How do you know how much to give?”

  The wagon moved faster over the asphalt and Manny was able to stand upright, instead of at an angle. On the street behind Henry, the soldiers loaded up the table and climbed back in the trucks.

  Connie finished tapping in the code to open the gate. As it slid open, she slowly walked forward. “Oh, we have that down pat. A coffee can full of rice, beans and oats. But only a margarine tub of powdered milk.”

  Henry wheeled in front of her, and she set her hand on the back of his seat. “We usually keep all the flour and make it into bread using the sour-dough starter Mildred has going.”

  “Fresh baked bread tonight.” Connie glanced over her shoulder at them. Her cloudy eyes sparkled. “Tuesdays are my favorite.”

  Henry guided her through the opening. “And we’re having stew to go with it.”

  Puffing, Irina straightened and held her side. “Manny can cook. He makes the best beans and rice.”

  “Can he?” Once through the gate, Connie led them to the right.

  He flushed. “I was a short order cook before…”

  He stopped. Sweat beaded his forehead. God, he’d almost told them about being sent away for manslaughter.