Jez's face darkened, but he grabbed the girl's shoulders and pushed her to the floor. Solly went to rise from his chair, but Otis waved Mona's snub-nosed pistol and shook his head.
The woman screamed as she was forced down. Though lean, Lenny was a strong man, and he quickly subdued her.
Solly looked up at Otis whose attention was switching back and forth between watching over him and gloating at Lenny. The black man was now naked from the waist down. All Solly could hear was muffled crying and a scuffling sound as the woman struggled in vain.
It was now or never. Otis looked across at Lenny, and Solly took his chance. He lunged at the thug's gun-toting hand. With a yell, Otis pulled back at him, but Solly was fueled by rage and fear, and he pushed Otis's arm inwards as he heard Lenny call out. Solly had forced the thug's arm back on itself when there was a muffled crack and Otis fell screaming backwards, his hand over his gut. Solly grabbed the gun from his nerveless hand just in time to spin around and train it on Lenny who stood, pointing his own gun at Solly.
"Come now," he said, his voice betraying a barely suppressed rage. "Put the gun down and we'll talk. You ain't no killer, I know that. Accidents is one thing, putting a man out of his misery is one thing. Killing in cold blood, that's another. I don't see it in you, Sol."
Solly thought about the woman lying on the floor pinned down by Jez. He thought of the innocent millions who had died over the last days. He thought of Mona, his savior, lying cold in his bed. And he thought of what would happen if he let Lenny talk him down.
Then the woman screamed, and Solly let the red mist take over.
Lenny fell to the floor, a hole punched through his chest.
"Who said anything about cold blood?" Solly spat.
"Don't come near me or I'll cut 'er!"
Solly looked up to see Jez holding a knife to the throat of the woman, his filthy hand still clasped over her mouth.
"Let her go," Solly said. "Do the right thing for once."
"She's mine! You go, or I kill her. Right here, right now!" Jez's face twisted with rage, his blue eyes staring like a madman. "GO!" he screamed as he raised the knife, point down.
There was a sudden blur and Jez fell sideways. The boy stood there holding what looked like a chair leg. He looked at Solly then at the woman as she sat up, then he crawled away. "Sorry," he said, before turning to run.
"Wait!" Solly called out. The boy stopped. "Good folk need to stick together. Give me a hand."
The boy remained with his back to them and then Solly could see him turn his head in the woman's direction. She sat cross-legged and sobbing, but she returned his gaze and, after a moment, gave a brief nod.
Solly knelt beside Jez. He was out for the count, but not dead. Lenny had been right about one thing, Solly was no cold-blooded killer and he wouldn't finish Jez off while he lay there, helpless. But he had no intention of burdening himself with a prisoner.
"Look, we can't stay here," he said to the woman. "My name's Solly and I'm going back to my apartment to hole up for the night. You're both welcome to come with me."
"You can't stay there for long; they'll find you," the woman said, her voice trembling as her body shook.
"I won't be. I'm heading for Texas to find my family. What you do is your affair, but you're welcome to my apartment."
The boy, who'd brought the woman's coat and put it around her shoulders said, "I got no one here. Like you said, folks need to stick together. My name's Ross, by the way."
"I'm Janice," the woman said as she shivered.
Solly helped her up. "Come on then, let's go home."
Chapter 9
"Can everyone hear me?" Deputy Paulina Ramos called, as the town meeting came to order.
Paulie looked out over the people gathered in the Baptist church. It seemed like a good turnout until you realized that this was just about everyone left alive. She watched them as the remaining conversations trailed away and silence fell.
No one in their right mind would have put Paulie in charge of anything more crucial than an office party and yet, here she was, in effective command of the security in Arbroath, Washington as the world fell apart around them. Technically, Deputy Hodges was the ranking officer and she respected the chain of command enough to tell him what she was going to do before she did it, but, though they all felt way out of their depth, Hodges had sunk the furthest.
They'd come within a whisker of complete anarchy in the hours after Sheriff McGovern died. He'd shaped the town police in his own image and it was unthinkable that he wouldn't be leading the recovery, if there was to be one. Without anyone to give orders, they'd scattered to their homes. It was truly everyone for themselves.
Paulie didn't have anywhere to go other than her apartment, so she helped Hodges move McGovern's body to the basement where it still lay three days later. The following morning, she and Hodges watched the sun rise over a ghost town and waited for their colleagues to sign in. By the time they'd given up waiting any longer, only another five had turned up. Five out of nearly fifty.
Aside from Hodges, Paulie only really knew Mike Fessel and Nicky Friedman. Fessel was a twenty-something former barista at Starbucks. Paulie liked him, though he was sometimes a little too cocky for his own good. Well, the apocalypse had done a pretty effective job of taking the spring out of his stride and he'd now become more sullen and withdrawn. He'd lost both parents and a brother, but he'd still turned up the next day to do his duty.
Nicky Friedman was a raw recruit from out of state. She'd already been effectively knocked into shape during the infamous induction period overseen by McGovern, but she was now driving on empty.
Of the other three, all men, she'd known next to nothing. Two had died on the second day, leaving only Jake Rutz, a thirty-something desk clerk she'd barely ever spoken to.
So then they were five. Hodges was a traffic patrol cop in his fifties with a nervous disposition and a car full of meds and so, on that first morning, each of the survivors had looked at the others, waiting for someone to step forward. That someone had been Paulie.
She'd immediately gone around to the town hall to find out who was in charge. The mayor had died in the night, but the deputy mayor was there. A brisk woman in her mid-fifties, Mayor Vogelbach was obviously relieved when Paulie and Rutz had made themselves known.
Vogelbach had barely any more information than they did. The National Guard had been mobilized and all civilian administrations had been told to prepare for their arrival, but there was no timescale and no way of knowing whether they would actually turn up at all. In the meantime, a line of people had formed in the lobby and Vogelbach was desperately trying to decide what to do first.
Aside from providing whatever emergency relief they could, Paulie had suggested that they assess how many people had died and try, if possible, to work out what they'd died of. McGovern had fallen as if he'd been shot, but there hadn't been a mark on his body. A pandemic seemed unlikely as the deaths had happened without prior symptoms and most had occurred over a period of a few hours, though they soon discovered that those who'd survived so far, might not see out the day.
The night before had been shocking enough, but riding around in the patrol car with Rutz had driven it home to her just how devastating the death toll had been. They took a single street and went from dwelling to dwelling counting the dead and those that remained alive. Many doors went unanswered and they were forced to break their way in to find whole families lying lifeless. Except for young babies. They seemed to have been untouched.
Arbroath wasn't exactly an up and coming community, so its population tended closer to retirement than birth, but by the time they'd swept that first street, they'd found as many babies alive as adults and older children. Paulie and Rutz distributed them to survivors, deaf to any protests. They were swimming in a sea of grief and everyone had a responsibility to keep some hope for the future above the waterline.
They sat in the car and added up the numbers. According to the la
st census, four hundred and fifty people had lived here. This morning, a dozen adults, four children and twenty-one babies remained alive. Paulie felt a black fog descend as her mind struggled to cope with the enormity of it. She kept going because she'd promised to help these people and because of her daughter. She'd phoned her the night before, when this had all started, and Alejandro, Paulie's brother, had answered. But there had been no response the following day. She'd heard it ring, but no one had picked up. It could easily have been the line, but she felt a seething panic that her brother and daughter were now lying in his apartment, like all those she'd seen since.
"My name is Deputy Ramos," Paulie said. She'd moved the lectern to one side and stood with some scribbled notes in front of the survivors. Given all that had happened in the past few days, it seemed crazy to be nervous of speaking in front of strangers. Crazy but true. "I represent the Sheriff's Department and I have some announcements I need to make regarding security. But first, I'd like to invite Mayor Vogelbach to speak."
"These are desperate times," the mayor began in a hoarse voice that grew in strength as she spoke. "We've been visited by an unknown plague that has robbed us of so many loved ones."
Vogelbach paused for a moment as tears formed in her eyes. Out among the audience, Paulie could hear isolated sobbing. This was no normal congregation, she thought, almost everyone in this crowd was alone.
The mayor drew in a deep breath. "It seems ridiculous to talk of the future at a time like this, but it will come whether we plan for it or not and I, for one, would wish there to be citizens of Arbroath to greet it. But let me begin by sharing the latest government information since I know that many of you have lost power. Bear in mind that this information was received two days ago, and we've heard nothing since."
"President Kowalski is dead. Ryan O'Reilly, former Secretary of Transportation has been sworn in. A state of national emergency has been declared and all arms of the military have been ordered to mobilize, including the National Guard. Citizens have been advised to remain in their homes and await further orders. However, we have received nothing further from federal or state government, so we must act as if we are on our own. Deputy Ramos has formulated a plan to ensure our safety."
The mayor stepped back, and all eyes focused on Paulie. "Our first task is security. We don't believe it's realistic to try to secure the entire town and outlying districts, so we are instituting a safe zone centered on the marketplace. We're surveying the surrounding streets to work out the most defensible perimeter, but I suggest anyone who lives in the outlying areas prepares to move inside."
A hand went up. "What about our dead? They need to be buried."
Mercifully, the mayor took this one. "We’ll attend to that once the living are secure, Margery. You need to head back home and pack."
The woman subsided and a man wearing a quilted jacket and baseball cap stepped forward. "What are you doing about supplies? The Kwikmart's already been looted, and not by the folk of this town, if I know them at all. Where's the food going to come from? And nights are pretty cold this time of the year."
"The one silver lining to this catastrophe, Marvin, is that there is plenty of food in the shops, at least for a little while. By bringing it into a secure central area, we make sure it's kept safe," the mayor said.
"So you can control who gets it and who doesn't, I suppose?" Marvin responded.
The mayor went to open her mouth but Paulie, sensing that trouble was brewing, spoke first, "Do you have any military experience, Marvin?"
"Ten years in the Marine Corps. Saw action in Iraq and North Korea," he said, his chest puffing with pride.
"We're looking for deputies to help secure and protect supplies and patrol the streets. We'd love to have a man with your experience. But the work's dangerous and the pay's negligible—"
"Sounds just like the Marines," Marvin said. "I'll sign on. Can't sit on my hands while the world goes all to hell. The name's Tucker, former Gunnery Sergeant."
Paulie took out a pen and noted the man's name. "Thanks, gunny," she said before addressing the rest of the audience. "We're looking for men and women with service experience to sign up as deputies and anyone else fit enough to help get the town back on its feet. Volunteers should report to the Sheriff's office as soon as this meeting is over. Everyone else, I suggest you get ready to move."
The mayor stepped forward again. "We'll meet again tomorrow, same place, same time. I ask you all to help your neighbors. Many of you have been given care of babies. Please remember that they are innocents in all this and that if we want them to have a world to grow up in, then we must come together to protect them. Now, before we depart, let’s have a moment of silence for the departed and say a word of prayer."
Fifteen men and women volunteered that day and they began the job of sealing off the central portion of the town. Arbroath's streets radiated out from the town square, so they were able to barricade all but one of them with the shops and apartments on either side forming an otherwise continuous wall. Work parties scoured the shops in the unprotected area and brought all the useful supplies inside the ring. The sense of a community coming together made for a tiny ray of light in Paulie's mind.
She sent the new deputies into each building to block any doors and windows that could be reached from what was now outside the protected area. They were also ordered to bring out the dead, who were then taken to a temporary morgue in a school building on the border of the town. It was gruesome work, and Paulie felt obliged to get her hands dirty, so it was a flustered Hodges who caught up with her.
"Paulina! At last. I've been looking for you everywhere," he said.
Paulie helped a man lift another body onto the makeshift cart they'd liberated from a shop. "Give us a moment would you Bob? Take a ten-minute break," she said. Bob had been a complete stranger to her, but after two hours in his company hauling corpses, Paulie felt as though she'd known him for years. She liked him. A straightforward man whose life, like everyone else's, had collapsed just a few days before, he was finding mental refuge in menial work, however horrific. He nodded and slipped away.
She turned to Hodges. "What is it?"
"It's Petrov. You know, the owner of Aldays."
Paulie nodded. Custer Petrov had bought the old-fashioned department store in the town center just as it was shutting down for good. Aldays had been run by the same family since it was founded in the nineteenth century (or so legend said) but its ancient charm hadn't been enough to keep it in business, so he'd paid a dollar for it a couple of hours after it went under. That meant he didn't have to settle its debts, many of which were owed to other townsfolk, so their relief to have such a large part of the shopping center saved was tempered by knowing that Petrov was now selling stock he hadn't paid them for. He wasn't, therefore, a popular man. She was almost disappointed to find he'd survived—he certainly hadn't been at the town meeting.
"What does he want?"
"He says the town can use the upper floors to house folk. There's plenty of small rooms up there, and plumbing. And he says we can use the ground floor to store all the supplies we're bringing in."
Paulie waited for the shoe to drop. "And what does he want in return?"
"A percentage," Hodges replied.
A born entrepreneur who'd grown up on the streets of Moscow, Petrov was looking to make the new world in his own image. But what would he use for currency?
"Look, Paulina, could you talk to him? This is way above my pay grade."
She looked at the officious little man's anxious features and noticed a slight stubble around his chin. She'd never known him to turn up for duty with anything less than a perfectly clean-shaven face—except for the slug-like mustache stuck to his upper lip. Such a tiny detail, and yet it was just another sign that the old world had gone and the people that they had been had gone with it.
"Sure, I'll go see him just as soon as I've finished helping Bob."
Hodges's protest was cut off by a cry from
outside. Paulie was just in time to see Bob and the other volunteers running off toward the nearest partially-built barricade.
Nicki Friedman stood with her shotgun locked and loaded watching a group of people running along the road toward the gap in the fence.
"What's going on?" Paulie said, drawing her revolver and looking back along the road.
"Reports of bandits," Friedman said. "See over there? That's Miller's Farm."
Paulie squinted in the direction Friedman was pointing. Smoke billowed into the air from behind the wooden buildings on that side of the approach road.
"Josh Miller rode in a half hour ago, said they'd rolled up in some sort of army truck and began emptying his barn into the back of it. They were dressed as military, he said, but they were no soldiers. Just a bunch of bandits on the make. He decided to hightail it, but when he was halfway here, he heard an explosion and saw his farm alight."
Frightened people breathed again as they reached the apparent safety beyond the barricade. One wore a deputy's uniform.
"Graf! I thought you were dead!" Paulie threw her arms around the disheveled man.
He hugged her tight before separating. "I'm sorry, Paulie. I had my home to protect. And then there was no one left but me and I didn't want to leave until I'd done the right thing by my family."
Jon Graf had been something of a father figure to Paulie. His eyes filled with tears and she knew he was thinking of his wife and son. "Oh Jon," she said, "I'm so sorry."
He shook his head. "I'm right glad to find you alive. First bit of good news I've had since this all started. But we need to finish this barricade and get people inside quickly. There's bad folks out there and they're gonna want what we've got."
"Sheriff!" The call went up from a volunteer standing on top of the barricade. He was looking directly at Paulie. She glanced at Hodges who gave a small shrug and stepped back. "There's someone coming!"
She jumped up onto the car that formed the lower part of the barrier. It was a clear day and West Street ran in a straight line out of town, so she could see for at least a mile. At first, she could only make out movement of some sort in the distance that then resolved itself into a small convoy of vehicles.
The Long Night Box Set Page 8