by Bobby Akart
“I know the feeling you have, girlie,” Ma said in a guttural voice. “I’ve killed many times and I liked it. You like it too, don’t ya?”
“Shut up!” screamed Alex. “I’m gonna kill you because you deserve it!” She thrust the barrel closer towards Ma.
“Get angry, hussy. Do it. Your boyfriend ain’t got the guts to do it. Look at him, he’s green around the gills, ain’t you, boy? Killin’ ain’t your thing, but girlie here likes it. Do it!”
Alex walked towards Ma and smacked her in the mouth with the buttstock of her rifle. Ma fell to her knees and looked up at Alex with a bloody grin.
“You’ll regret not killin’ me, hussy,” snarled Ma before Alex struck her again in the nose, causing bone to crunch. Ma toppled over and Alex pounced on her. She yanked both of Ma’s arms behind her back and cuffed her hands together using a set of Safariland Restraints found in the Detention Center.
Alex stood over Ma and stared at the feeble woman who used her evil to destroy the souls of innocent human beings. She immediately regretted not shooting her and later tried to come up with a reason why, but couldn’t.
Alex turned her attention to Bill Cherry, the last living descendant of the residents of Cherry Mansion. She rolled him over on the bed to confirm he was dead. The gaping wounds in his chest allowed blood to spurt across the pants of the onlooking Beau, who promptly vomited all over the corpse.
“Are ya all right, QB One?”
“Sure,” he replied as he retched again.
Alex took Beau’s two-way radio and announced their victory.
“Tiger Tails, Tiger Tails, victory!”
Chapter 34
Dawn, November 12
Court Square
Savannah
As small-town America sprouted up in the modern era during the nineteenth century, these towns grew around trading markets and natural points of interest like rivers. States began to subdivide themselves politically by counties, which were controlled by local forms of government closest to the constituents they served. A county seat in Tennessee, like Savannah, was typically located in the center of a geographic area. Most Tennessee county boundaries were determined by how far a rider on horseback could venture in a day from the center of town.
The town square of the county seat took on a special importance. Usually located near the building housing the counties administrative offices, the town square became a location suited for political rallies, open markets, and social gatherings of the local residents.
A boom in technology, including television, online social media, and virtual shopping, left most town squares useless except for the occasional concert in the park or political protest, which surprising to few, rarely took place in the heartland of America.
On this morning in Savannah, a phenomenon occurred that would be recalled for years. As word spread of the evening’s events, the townspeople of Savannah emerged from their homes. The sun rose in the east, as always, but it somehow seemed brighter and warmer on this day, even for mid-November.
Folks waved to each other. They spoke to one another discreetly and then they ventured farther from home. Gone were the buses hauling slave labor to the Vulcan Quarry. The streets were devoid of Junior’s tyrannical deputies pointing their guns in all directions. Peace and tranquility had arrived in Savannah in a manner not seen since the end of the Civil War.
Coach Carey, Stubby, Colton, and Jake, exhausted from a busy evening with no sleep, were standing inside the courthouse, speaking with the Bryants, when they noticed people beginning to congregate around the gazebo in Court Square. Dozens became hundreds as Main Street began to fill up.
“How did they know?” asked Jake.
Coach Carey knew his neighbors well. He was best suited to answer. “These people have been living in fear of the Durhams since the solar storm. Collectively, I believe they’ve created a conscious of their own. If one Savannah resident died or was tortured, they all felt it too. When evil was contained last night, they must’ve known.”
Colton eased closer to the upper windows and watched the masses of people approaching Court Square. Their faces showed cautious optimism. The fear was gone, but celebration wasn’t in order yet either. Curiosity was prevalent in all. They’d be seeking answers.
During the night, the Tiger Resistance was successful in arresting some of Junior’s men, wounding others, or convincing even more to drop their weapons and run off. It would take a newly appointed sheriff and his deputies to ferret out all of the scum, but with the help of the residents in identifying the bad guys, that could be accomplished.
“Coach,” started Colton, “these folks are gonna have a lot of questions, and more importantly, they’ll be seeking assurances. I suspect they’ll be wary of circumstances for a while until some sense of normalcy can be instituted.”
“I knew this time would come, but not this quickly,” said Coach Carey.
“Speak to them from the heart,” said Pastor Bryant. “They all know you. They’re looking for leadership and you’re the guy.”
Coach Carey tucked his hands in his jacket and shook off the chill held inside the brick and granite structure. He nodded and turned to descend the sweeping marble stairs. The group followed him down and through the double glass doors onto the front steps of the Hardin County Courthouse.
As soon as the group emerged into the morning sun, the crowd started moving to the grassy lawn in front of them. At least two to three hundred people stood at the base of the steps, on the grass, and in the middle of Main Street.
“Good morning, everyone!” shouted Coach Carey, the warm, moist air from his lungs immediately condensing into a misty vapor. “If I haven’t met you before, my name is Joe Carey, and I’m the, um, was the coach of the Hardin County High football team. I’m glad that all of you have wandered out of your homes this morning. As you can tell, something very important in this town’s history happened last night.”
“Hey, Joe!” shouted an elderly woman from the middle of the crowd. “It’s me, Donna English, the school librarian. Are we safe now?”
The crowd mumbled and spoke among themselves. Clearly, this was on everybody’s mind.
Coach Carey continued. “Last night, with the help of these gentlemen and many others who are unsung heroes, we took into custody and made citizen’s arrests of Ma Durham and Sheriff Leroy Durham. They are currently locked in separate jail cells at the Detention Center.”
He felt like he’d won the state championship and returned to a hero’s welcome. The citizens of Savannah were jumping up and down, cheering. Hugs were exchanged and tears of joy were flowing. The relief that overcame this town created such an uproar that other residents who were slowly walking toward the congregation began running at full speed to join in the festivities. This was truly cause for celebration.
The spontaneous reaction urged Colton, Jake, and Stubby to exchange bro-hugs and slaps on the back. After Stubby arrived with Junior, the entire group became involved in setting up security around the same locations covered by Junior’s men. Disgruntled deputies were the primary concern, but now the responsibility of protecting and marshalling the town’s assets rested upon their group until a new government could be installed.
“Does this mean no more quarry operation?”
“That’s correct,” replied Coach Carey. “Slavery was wrong back then, and it’s wrong in any form today!”
“What about the brothels? Are my daughters safe to come home?”
“Absolutely. In fact, you’ll be proud to know that many of Savannah’s own young ladies helped in the operation last night. It was their will to fight to return home that led to our victory.”
The crowd applauded and roared with approval. Coach Carey allowed the cheering to continue and then he moved to calm the crowd.
“Do you have food to give us?” someone shouted.
“Yeah, when can we go into Walmart?” asked another.
Before he could speak, a man shouted from the crowd, an
d then several others followed his lead.
“What about the Durhams? Bring the scum out here so we can see ’em in chains!”
“Yeah, time to face justice, I say!”
“Let me at ’em! They took everything I owned!”
Colton leaned into Coach Carey. “This mob will rip them apart. We haven’t discussed this, but folks are gonna demand justice. Whadya think?”
The angry shouts persisted and fists were pumped into the air. Within seconds, the giddily exuberant crowd changed to a vengeful, bloodthirsty throng ready to rip the Durhams limb from limb.
Chapter 35
Afternoon, November 12
Court Square
Savannah
Establishing governmental authority was not easy, which made the works of our Founding Fathers that much more remarkable. The United States Constitution was the greatest document ever written. Its structure was second to none, as checks and balances were designed to manage this great republic.
State and local governments followed the lead of the Founding Fathers and the system had served its purpose well for two and a half centuries. With the end of the world as they knew it upon the people of Savannah, they were about to experience the growing pains of any new government.
Although a foundation of principles was in place, the personnel designed to carry out the functions of government was not. This was an issue already addressed by many small towns in America since the collapse, and for Savannah, it had become the second order of business.
The first thing on the town’s agenda was the disposition of Mayor Betty Jean Durham and her son Sheriff Leroy Durham Junior. The rain had moved out of the area and a beautiful sunny day of nearly seventy degrees warmed the spirits of the town, but not their hearts. Revenge and punishment was on everybody’s mind.
Debates raged throughout the community of less than five hundred people. Folks from rural parts of Hardin County who hadn’t experienced the Durhams’ wrath firsthand were also present. The ranchers from West Hardin County arrived on horseback as word spread from neighbor to neighbor.
Coach Carey had promised everyone an opportunity to be heard, but he made it clear, until elections were held or a consensus was reached, the Durhams would remain in custody. But he promised them the right to be heard—a debate in Court Square—regarding the fate of Ma and Junior.
Many of the landowners from across the river arrived at the same time. The contingent from Shiloh Ranch included Stubby and Bessie, the Allens, and the Rymans. John Wyatt and Lucinda made the trip. Russ Hilton brought a group of men from Saltillo.
As the families rode across the bridge together on horseback, they debated the fate of the Durhams as well. Alex, Stubby, Jake, and Chase were firmly in the death penalty camp.
“They should meet their maker and be held to account,” bellowed Jake.
“If this were the real world, that’s what would happen,” said Alex.
Bessie and Emily didn’t understand why there needed to be a rush to judgment. “They’re safely locked away,” said Emily. “Get a mayor, sheriff, and judge put into place, and then exact the proper punishment. Follow the rules we had before, in other words.”
Colton argued that there were inherent risks in holding these two. First, he argued, the psychological effect of leaving them in town would be a dark cloud over their rebuilding effort. Second, he didn’t want to feed them. He proposed delivering them to the only true governmental authority that was close to Savannah—the FEMA and National Guard encampment at Jackson. Colton suggested delivering evidence of their crimes, including written statements from the victims, to the military police or commander of the facility. Let the Durhams stand trial and receive due process.
The group dismounted and tied their horses off alongside dozens of others. Some kids were asked to provide the horses buckets of drinking water while the meeting in Court Square took place.
Madison, who had remained quiet during the conversations about the Durhams, held hands with Colton as they strolled down the street. Colton made small talk with her, but she barely uttered a response. She hadn’t formed an opinion on the demise of the Durhams, and although she was the lone voice of an outsider, making her thoughts known was important to her.
The crowd building in front of the gazebo at Court Square was twice as large as this morning’s. Madison allowed the sun to soak into her face and she unfurled the scarf used to keep her neck warm while riding.
A sticker on the bumper of a Volvo caught her eye. Four simple letters—W.W.J.D. What would Jesus do? Madison had never been a fan of those bracelets and bumper stickers. To her, the phrase what would Jesus do implied that she should answer that question at every turn and she should do the same. She wasn’t capable of turning water into wine, performing miracles, or feeding thousands with a loaf of bread and a fish.
Madison said a quick prayer, of sorts, to herself. I give thanks that there is a God and that he’s not me. I couldn’t handle the pressure. Amen.
Then Madison thought of a miracle that she could help perform in Jesus’ name—healing. This was a community in dire need of healing. Healing through forgiveness.
As the group arrived at the courthouse steps, Coach Carey got their attention and waved them up the stairs. Once inside, a substantial group of the town’s leaders were present. Introductions were made and small groups split apart to chat.
Madison sought out Pastor Bryant and pulled him aside for a private conversation. They whispered back and forth and eventually their heads nodded in unison. They’d reached an accord.
“Everyone, I’d like to say a few words before we get started,” said Coach Carey. “This could easily turn into a three-ring circus and a riot. The people have clamored all day to force the Durhams to face their accusers. I have to abide by their wishes or we’ll lose our legitimacy and stature within the town. Toward that end, I snuck Ma and Junior over here earlier and they’re locked in a holding cell behind the criminal courtroom.”
“Are we going to suggest a punishment for the Durhams?” asked Emily.
“I think we’ve narrowed it down to three options,” replied Coach Carey. “One is to summarily execute them and be done with it, but how does that make us any different from them?”
“Here’s how,” interrupted Alex. “They destroyed the lives of innocent people. Those two are guilty beyond any doubt whatsoever. I vote execute.” Beau slid over to Alex to hold her hand, a move not unnoticed by her mother. He’s calming her down.
“I can see how you feel that way, Alex,” said Coach Carey. “You showed remarkable maturity in not taking on that task on your own. Beau told me how you showed restraint.”
“Yeah, well,” she began to speak and then stopped herself.
Coach Carey continued. “The second option is to hold a trial, but several of you made an excellent point. This town needs to move on and the continued presence of the Durhams will prevent that from happening. But it is preferable to execution without a trial.
“The third option is to follow the law as we know it. Until we have our own government put into place, we could turn these criminals over to the federal government in Jackson. They are better equipped to house them and exact the appropriate punishment. We’ll be done with them once and for all.”
Everyone spoke amongst themselves and a decision was still not reached. Pastor Bryant quietly stepped to the staircase leading to the second floor and began to speak.
“May I suggest that we get the ugliness out of the way first? Allow the Durhams to face their accusers and atone for their sins. Then let me address our friends and neighbors. After that, it’ll be in God’s hands.”
Coach Carey and two other men retrieved the Durhams from the jail cell. He walked them into the grand foyer of the courthouse, where they had to face the town’s leaders first. Not a word was spoken as hate-filled eyes looked down upon the former mayor and sheriff. Madison began to wonder if the two were safer inside the building or out there.
Both of
them were uncooperative as they were dragged into the sunlight toward the gazebo. Coach Carey had stationed armed men around the structure to prevent the mob from exacting punishment on their own.
Jeers and barbs greeted the former town leaders, who had used the collapse of the power grid to begin a reign of terror. Shouts filled the air and threats were directed at the Durhams. Once placed inside the gazebo, the two shielded their faces from the angry mob.
Then, the mud began to fly, but not in the form of political rhetoric. Gobs of mud from the rain-soaked turf were pulled up and slung at the Durhams. Soon, they were covered with dirt, sod and weeds. The scene was reminiscent of the rotten eggs that had pelted a newly widowed Betty Jean and her young sons, Rollie and Leroy, the night their house burned down in Adamsville. They were chased out of town and into Savannah that night. Now, Savannah would determine their fate.
Coach Carey allowed the demonstration to continue for fifteen minutes before he determined that it was counterproductive. The townspeople had made their point and the Durhams probably realized they were better off in custody than released to the mob. He escorted them back inside and then said to Pastor Bryant, “They’re all yours.”
Pastor Bryant entered the mud-filled gazebo and the crowd immediately quietened down. He spoke from the heart.
“My friends, nothing erases the past. There is repentance and atonement for our sins. Atonement helps us overcome our transgressions and mistakes. It heals our hearts of pain and cleanses our minds from doubt and grief.
“Retribution and revenge is not the answer. Ultimately, the punishment must be determined by God. However, forgiveness is within our ability and it is the next step toward healing. Our community needs to heal and come together as one. Forgiveness doesn’t erase the past, but it heals the memories. Forgiving what we cannot forget provides us the opportunity to move forward into a new future.
“I pray that you will forgive the Durhams for what they’ve done so that we can start the healing process. Let us banish them from our community and put them into the hands of the government. We will rid ourselves of this bitter memory and begin to create new ones together, with God’s approval and guidance.”