"I'd be pretty cheesed off," Solly said.
"How much angrier would you be if you'd devoted your life to building a device that then fails to save yours?"
Solly lowered his mug, his mouth dropping open. "Are you saying that's what happened to Lee?"
"Guys, what's going on outside?" Ross called out.
Glass exploded inwards as a hail of bullets punched holes in the opposite wall. They dropped instantly and Solly desperately searched for his weapon. Ross crawled under the bed as rounds continued to spit into the room, shattering mirrors and splintering door frames. He came back with Solly's Ruger and pressed it into his hands. Solly flipped over and pushed at Neil, but there was no response.
"Neil!" he hissed as the firing stopped. He pushed harder and Buchanan rolled onto his back, his sightless eyes staring upwards.
The barrel of a gun appeared through the window.
"Reckon we got 'em," hissed a voice from outside.
Solly's mind filled with a red mist as he recognized Carl. Solly and Ross were right under the window, crouched in a fetal position. Solly nodded to him hoping he'd understand and then, in one swift movement, he grabbed the barrel of the shotgun with one hand and brought his weapon up with the other. The man's eyes widened for an instant before Solly pulled the trigger and he dropped.
It wasn't Carl. He was standing to one side, out of harm's way, or so he thought, but now he brought his rifle up and was leveling before Solly could react when a shot rang out and he fell sideways, blood jetting from his shoulder.
"Put your weapons down!" Hanna's voice called from out of the darkness. "Put them down! There's a half dozen of us with you in our sights right now, so drop them."
Solly sighed, then knelt beside Neil, feeling his throat thicken and water forming in the corners of his eyes.
He barely heard Hanna call out from the other side of the ruined window, "Looks as though we'll be having a hanging."
Chapter 10
Bella had never felt so alone. It had been more than 36 hours since her father had chosen to stay with Skulls and his gang and she couldn't help but wonder whether he was still alive. Surely, he wouldn't be able to keep up the pretense that he was an engineer for long? He was a clever man and good with his hands, but it was a long way from fixing the domestic wind turbine on the beach house to doing the same for a commercial setup. Soon enough, he would be exposed and Skulls would exact his revenge.
But it was the loneliness that was crushing her. She'd been driving through a desolate landscape of abandoned vehicles and burned out houses with a sick son and a daughter who had said barely a dozen words since her grandfather had left. It was as if Maddie blamed her for grandpa's sacrifice. Well, maybe she was right.
The journey itself had also taken its toll. They'd stopped at their old house in Baytown to find it a burned out ruin and all three of them had spent longer than they should have done sobbing at this most personal wound to their shared history. Now they were homeless, unless they could call the beach house home, and the only thing on Bella's mind was getting Jake the medical attention he needed before it was too late. So, she skirted around Houston to the south, before heading for I-10. She'd briefly wondered why the governor hadn't chosen Houston to be a muster point for his new militia, it would certainly have been more convenient if he had, but, as she skimmed the outskirts of the city, all she could see was a pall of smoke hanging over it. It was as if it had been burned as thoroughly as their home.
When they finally reached the interstate, it was impassable for many miles, so she shadowed it on smaller roads and dusty tracks until she could see gaps appearing between the vehicles. The east bound side cleared first, so she hopped onto the road and drove against the direction of the traffic, weaving around the wreckage and, once or twice, was forced to leave again only to pick it up at the next intersection.
They saw other people from time to time. For a couple of hours, they were part of an unofficial convoy of three cars heading west until the other two, on missions of their own, turned off the interstate and headed into the country.
It didn't help matters that she was driving an unfamiliar car. Rather than replace the tires on her SUV, Skulls had told them to pick a car from the dealership and it didn't sell many larger cars. She was, in the end, forced to choose a Toyota Land Cruiser with a manual shift and she'd entertained Skulls and his cronies by kangarooing along the road. By sheer luck, however, it had an almost full fuel tank, so they stood a fair chance of getting to San Antonio without needing to find more—as long as they weren't forced to abandon the car along the way.
"Look!" Jake said. It was his turn to sit in the front and he jabbed a finger at the windscreen.
At first, she thought it was a regular road sign, but over the metal frame hung a white banner. A message had been hand painted with care onto it:
Welcome to the Free States of Texas, Louisiana & New Mexico.
"So, it is a thing," Bella muttered. Relief flooded her body. Part of her had wondered whether they weren't following a phantom across the country, a sort of Shangri La that could be sought for, but never found.
As they approached the sign, the road suddenly cleared from side to side and there, a few yards inside this newly declared border, stood a military checkpoint.
Bella slowed the car gently as she approached it before bringing it to a halt. Three men in military uniform stood behind the barrier, their guns trained directly at her, while a fourth approached the car, gesturing for her to wind down the window.
"Good day, ma'am," he said in a broad south Texan accent. He was wearing a modified Texas National Guard uniform—the name strip had been torn off and replaced with a plastic badge. "I'm Corporal Demers. There are three of you in the vehicle?"
"Yes, these are my son and daughter."
His eyes opened wide. "Your actual flesh and blood?"
"I've been very lucky," Bella said.
"It's a God given miracle," Demers said, smiling. "But what's your business here?"
"I'm taking my son to Lackland Air Force base to enlist."
His smile widened. "Well, good for you. But your boy don't look too healthy."
"He was injured," Bella responded. "We're hoping the army medics can help us."
"Sure they will. Okay, you'll have to give me your names to go on this here form, then I'll give you a docket to put in your window so's the other checkpoints will let you pass. It'll also get you a place for the night."
This was welcome news as dusk was only an hour away. She'd planned to sleep in the car, but the thought of a safe bed threatened to overwhelm any sense of caution.
"’Cos rule number one is 'Respect the curfew.' Dusk till dawn, no folks are to be out. Don't you forget it, ‘cos it's a shoot on sight policy. Can't be too careful till security is totally established."
Bella gave her details and watched as the corporal filled out the form with the slow and deliberate care of a man new to the task. She had little experience of the military, but she'd be prepared to bet that six weeks ago Corporal Demers had been earning his living in an entirely different way.
"Here you go," he said, handing over a piece of paper with a crudely drawn symbol on it. "That should see you right. Now, head along the road and the guys at the next checkpoint will point you in the right direction."
They pulled away from the checkpoint as the barrier was raised and Bella watched through the rearview mirror as it closed again like the shutting of a door. She couldn't explain why, but it gave her the creeps, but her mood soon lightened as they drove into another world.
There were no abandoned cars on this side of the border. In fact, it was only the lack of traffic that gave any hint to the truth that these weren't normal times. They had less than an hour's daylight left, but she could see no sign of strife anywhere on the flat landscape to either side of the highway. Leafless bushes marched alongside the road and beyond she could glimpse wide tussocky expanses of scrub dotted with small crops of trees.
A clean shaved young man looked in through the side window. "Ma'am this ticket says you're to be found housing. Please take the slip to the right and follow the track until you reach a house on the left, they'll take you in."
Bella thanked him and was going to pull away when he said, "Did the guards at the other checkpoint search the car?"
"What for?"
"Weapons, primarily."
There was no sense lying. "No."
The soldier straightened up and gestured to his comrades. Bella thought she heard the word "amateurs" under his breath.
"Would you please open the trunk," he said aloud.
Bella got out and padded around.
"We will need to search you and your companions," he said as he riffled through their belongings.
Jake groaned as they helped him out of the car.
"What's the problem with him?" the first guard said as he spent slightly longer than was necessary patting Bella down.
"He's got a leg injury. It's infected and we're nearly out of antibiotics."
The guards straightened up. "You'd best set off for the base first thing in the morning. It might take a while to get you processed."
He conferred with the other guards and showed Bella a plastic crate containing their guns.
"Here is a list of the weapons we have confiscated. They will be added to the state armory."
"We can't have them back?" Bella asked, horrified.
He shook his head. "You won't need them. You're inside a safe enclave."
"What about the Second Amendment?"
The guard guided her back into the driver's seat. "We have a new constitution, ma'am. Only members of the armed forces or the militia are permitted to carry weapons. Now, head to the right and follow the track. Have a good evening."
Bella started the car in a daze and headed in the direction he'd indicated. She'd never been a vocal fan of guns, but the right to self-defense was ingrained in the souls of most Texans and the idea that they'd give that up was impossible to process. Except when you considered that nineteen out of twenty were now dead. History had shown time and again that a small determined group can quickly come to dominate a much larger population if they act swiftly and decisively.
The lane meandered off to the right, on one side bordered by a huge paddock and on the other by scrub. Then a large white house emerged from the left and she swung into the dusty drive. Before she'd brought the car to a halt, a man appeared on the veranda and strode out to meet them.
"You must be newcomers," he said, his hand held out in greeting. "Come inside quickly, it is nearly time for curfew."
He was a big, bearded man wearing denims and a thick woolen sweater.
Jake moaned as his leg gave way.
"I will help the boy," the man said. "You can bring your bags."
Bella and Maddie followed him up the steps to the front door which stood wide open. Lights blazed from within and a smiling woman took Bella's bag and led her through the house.
"My name is Ethan Calder," the man said after he'd helped Jake onto the bed. "This is my wife Alice and you are welcome in our home. You will find a washroom through there and, once you've freshened up a little, please join us in the kitchen for the evening meal. We'll keep it warming until you're ready."
"Please don't wait for us. Go ahead and eat," Bella said.
The big man shook his shaggy head. "We have the honor of welcoming newcomers who need shelter for the night, not knowing our laws, and so we will wait for you." He turned and followed his wife out of the room.
"I feel as though I'm in an episode of Westworld," Maddie said as she looked around the room. "I mean, it seems too good to be true, doesn't it? Or is it me?"
Bella put her arm around her daughter's shoulders and was relieved that she didn't resist. "No, I feel it too, darling. I've felt it ever since we crossed the border, and even more so when they took our guns. But we've got no choice but to play along—nothing's more important than Jake getting the help he needs. We can figure the rest of it out from there."
A shower—a genuine, actual shower powered by an electric pump—and a change of clothes had brightened the moods of both Bella and Maddie. Examining Jake's wound, on the other hand, only made the urgency of their task all the more obvious and her heart broke as she watched her son struggle into the shower. Frankly, she'd do a deal with the devil himself to get him seen to and cured.
Ethan sat at the table with a young girl he introduced as his daughter, Margaret, while Alice busied herself at the stove. The kitchen was filled with the rich aroma of a beef stew.
"Please, sit," Ethan said, indicating three seats on the opposite side of the table.
Bella watched, her mouth watering, as Alice ladled the stew into wide bowls and handed one to each of them.
"Tell me, Ethan," she said, forcing her attention away from the food while Alice piled on fresh vegetables, "how are things here, in, what do you call it?"
"Officially we live in the Free States of Texas, Louisiana and New Mexico, but most call it the TLX, even the governor."
"So, you're not part of the USA anymore?" Jake asked.
Ethan gave a shrug. "I think most of us think of ourselves as Americans still, but the USA as a political unit ceased to exist six weeks ago and we have been forced to take matters into our own hands. Though, I take no credit for that. I am a humble follower. But here, let us eat before we talk. Shall I say grace?"
The stew was delicious. It was as if Bella's taste buds had been on vacation and were finally being given something worth eating for its own sake as much as its nutritional value.
There was even a decent Texan Chardonnay to go with it, but Bella didn't want to let Ethan off the hook so, when they left the table to sit in the living room, she brought the subject up again.
"What do you know of the governor?"
Ethan's face darkened just a little at the change in subject—he'd been holding forth on the farming prospects for the next year.
"I know he's a good man. Used to work in the Texas government. He brought together the surviving leaders and... " he gestured around as if his living room was evidence in itself, "the result is peace and people getting fed. I don't hear no complaints."
Bella opted to drop the topic. She was puzzled by Ethan's defensive reaction whenever she asked anything, so she switched onto safer ground. "We do have one thing in common; our families survived. I'm certainly thankful for that."
Ethan seemed to relax at this. "We sure are lucky. Now, why don't you head along to bed—you want to be up and on the road early tomorrow to get that boy seen to."
Though surprised at this abrupt dismissal, Bella was exhausted and welcomed the idea of sleeping in a real bed again. Two nights in the car had done her back no favors.
As they were going into their room, Bella heard little Margaret's voice behind them.
"Oh, go on then," he said in reply. "But don't go bothering them."
Margaret slipped past her father and ran up the corridor, a cuddly toy swinging from her arms.
"I've got this for Maddie," she called as she came into the room. "Here, I thought you might want something to cuddle tonight."
The little girl turned to go out again as Ethan's footsteps approached. As she passed Bella, she quickly leaned up and whispered in her ear.
"He ain't my daddy and she ain't my mommy. I gotta pretend like we're family, but we ain't. Watch your girl."
And then she was gone.
Chapter 11
Paulie scanned the compound from the fourth floor of a ruined building and sighed. "We're too late."
Figures in military uniforms strode back and forth across a cracked concrete landscape of rusty containers and military vehicles.
"Looks as though it's pretty organized down there," the man she'd known as Pastor Smith said.
They'd barely spoken since the night she'd overheard his radioed conversation with his contact within the Lee Corporation. At first, she'd refused to believe him. How could he possibly be Annabel Lee's husband, the man whose death in front of the world's cameras had signaled the beginning of the Long Night?
Her mind rejected the possibility outright, but her heart told her it was the truth. He said he'd become aware of his wife's intentions too late to prevent them being realized, so he'd injected himself with a paralyzing agent, making it appear he'd died instantly. His conspirators then removed his body, using the unfolding chaos of that night to shield their movements. He was taken to a small community to the south where he convalesced and set out on his mission in the West.
He wouldn't reveal what this mission entailed, despite Paulie's dogged questioning, and this lack of honesty, along with the fact that he'd been fooling them ever since he first walked into Arbroath, had been enough to build a wall between them. Though she did have a sneaky admiration for the sheer balls it took to impersonate a priest using nothing more than a Bible and Book of Common Prayer he'd found on his long journey, along with memories of a Catholic upbringing in the UK. That he was British was another surprise, but he'd been in the US for long enough to be able to adopt a completely authentic east coast accent.
She'd reluctantly agreed to keep his identity a secret for now as long as he kept to his side of the bargain and continued to provide the spiritual support the people of Arbroath needed, at least until he completed his mission. Whatever that was.
Paulie peeked out of the window again. She'd expected the armory to have been raided in the preceding weeks, but she'd hoped to find some of the better hidden caches untouched. She'd also thought it unlikely that anyone would think to drive away with the military transport vehicles and APCs. She'd been wrong about that too as only a couple of rusting specialist trucks remained on the other side of the razor wire.
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