After the Fall (Book 2): Catherine's Tale (Part 1)

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After the Fall (Book 2): Catherine's Tale (Part 1) Page 12

by David E. Nees


  The militia had gotten used to her, and she enjoyed the run of most of the buildings. There was always harassment from the men, which she was adept at deflecting; her style was to never be intimidated and to give back just as much crap as was dished out. It generally resulted in a good laugh all around.

  On one of her forays downtown she noticed a new face on the street. The woman was thirtyish, attractive with a refined but sad-looking face. Her blonde hair and blue eyes stood out. She wore an elegant housecoat with seemingly not much on underneath. It looked odd to Lori Sue. Even dressed so strangely, the woman didn’t look like she belonged with the coarse sort of men found in the militia.

  The woman was walking toward Lori Sue. Lori Sue stared at her, but the woman wouldn’t meet her eyes as they passed each other.

  She puzzled over the woman. It would not have shocked her to meet another female in the compound; she knew most of the others who worked the militia and politicians, but she didn’t believe that this was such a case. And yet here was a woman, dressed oddly, walking alone by this cluster of militia buildings.

  With no downtown office economy in existence, why else would she be here? There were simply no reasons why anyone would willingly be within blocks and blocks of here unless they were connected with the militia, or with the politicians who ran the city…or worse, with the gang that Stansky had assembled and enlarged. This was the domain of those who ran the city and those who enforced obedience from everyone else. Joe Stansky had his office and headquarters here, the militia was housed here, the politicians had their offices here, and Stansky’s ominous gang was located close by. This woman just didn’t fit. She wasn’t dressed for any role Lori Sue could imagine, and she had looked too nice, cultured perhaps, for any roles that fit a single woman in this neighborhood.

  Lori Sue came to a stop. She turned and stared after the receding figure. Could she be the wife of one of her patrons, or maybe of one of the political types? She had met none. And as far as she could tell, the militia was shy on wives.

  It was still mid-afternoon, early for showtime. Lori Sue decided to follow the woman.

  After two blocks, the woman crossed the street and turned into the entrance of the Hillsboro Inn. Lori Sue grew even more intrigued. She knew the hotel, in its current incarnation. It was a lightly-used housing extension of the special blocks down the street, used by both high-ranking militia and top-level members of Joe’s gang. She had been escorted to some of the unused rooms in it, both times by militiamen of medium rank, and always surreptitiously, as if they had not been completely certain of their right to be there. Mostly the place was for bigwigs. Lori Sue quickened her pace and followed the woman through the glass doors into the dim lobby.

  The woman headed toward the right-hand wing. Past the unused elevators, she went to the stairwell, picking a tallow candle out of a basket by the door and lighting it from a wall sconce before entering. Lori Sue trailed after her, waiting ten seconds before going through the stairwell door. She hadn’t taken a candle, and she navigated the dark stairs by touch and memory. Slipping off her shoes, she followed the faint glow the woman’s candle cast on the walls above.

  Soon she heard a door open, and a broader swath of light entered the stairwell from the hallway above. The woman’s shadow flashed in it for a moment and then she was gone.

  Lori Sue rushed up the stairs and caught the heavy door just as it was about to close. She pulled it open just a little. The woman had extinguished her candle and put it in the little basket outside the stairwell. She had stopped two doors down the hall. She sighed as she turned the knob, and Lori Sue saw her whole body slump for a moment. Then she went in.

  Lori Sue eased the stairwell door shut. She had realized where she was. The fourth floor! She had been told this was Leo Stupak’s territory! It wouldn’t be good to be caught here. She hastily felt her way back down to the ground floor, shoes in hand.

  Later, talking with the men in the former offices that had become the militia dormitories, she learned that the woman’s name was Donna. According to some, she was Leo’s new woman. He had brought her in after her husband had been arrested. She cautiously mentioned that the woman had gone into the Hillsboro Inn, and one of the men nodded and said he had heard that was where Leo kept the women he collected.

  Lori Sue kept up the friendly banter as she gathered information. Information was like other resources; she gathered and stored it for possible future use. She didn’t know when, or if, she might need it, but it was better to know more about what was going on than to be in the dark.

  Over the next few days Lori Sue shifted her schedule and made a point of being in the area of the militia block where she had first seen Donna. There was a bar set up on the street level in one of the buildings housing the militia, with a window on the street. There were only small quantities of alcohol served, including harsh homemade whiskey, random beers, and even more random bottled liquors, depending on the day. Militiamen got drink allowances with special ration cards, with higher ranking men getting the better choices of alcohol. Lori hung out there, hoping to get a chance to learn more about the woman she saw. She had a new reason now. If this Donna had Leo’s ear, she could be helpful to Lori Sue; connections never hurt. She wanted to move up in the hierarchy and not have to whore around with the grunts for survival.

  On the third day, Lori Sue was rewarded when she saw the woman emerge from the hotel and come down the street toward the militia buildings. She was dressed just as oddly as before. She walked past the window where Lori Sue was watching and then surprised her by opening the door and entering. She walked up to the bar and gave the bartender a slip of paper. He immediately told a militia corporal to watch the bar and disappeared into a back room.

  “What kinda note did you hand him to make him run like that?” Lori Sue asked as she went over to Donna.

  Donna glanced up. Lori Sue smiled her best and friendliest smile, but the woman turned back to the counter.

  “Don’t be rude,” Lori Sue said. “I’m just trying to be friendly. It’s hard to find a female to talk to. Your name’s Donna, right?”

  Donna turned back to Lori Sue, her face draped in sadness. “I’m not interested in talking.”

  “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

  Lori Sue was astonished at the long, trembling look Donna gave her. The woman’s eyes did not seem to fully focus, and her clenched hands shook on the bar. After a long moment, she seemed to get control of herself. “I’m fine.” She turned away again.

  Lori Sue took a chance and touched her arm. “Please, don’t blow me off. I need to talk with someone. I’m on my own and could use a friend.”

  Again Donna turned back to stare at her, more sharply this time. “Why do you hang around here?” she said in a harsh whisper. “This is not a good place. Get out.”

  Lori Sue was taken aback by the sudden change. “I got to survive,” she said simply. She leaned forward. “But I could use a friend. We need to help each other out, you know?”

  The bartender came back with two cardboard boxes in his arms, one on top of the other, and passed them to Donna. “Here ya go. Don’t drop ‘em,” he said with a smirk on his face.

  Donna lowered her eyes and turned to go.

  “What’re you staring at?” the bartender said to Lori Sue. “Get lost and don’t go hitting people up for free drinks.”

  “Shove it up your ass,” Lori Sue said and followed Donna to the door. Outside, she reached up and took the top cardboard box. “Let me help you.”

  Donna almost stumbled at this intrusion. “What are you doing? What do you want?”

  “Like I said, I could use a friend and you look like you could too.”

  “I can’t help you. I don’t think I can be friends with you. You don’t know what’s going on with me. You should get away…far away from here.”

  “I’m stuck here, like all of us. I’m just trying to survive. I know you’re connected to Leo, so I figure you might be able to
help me.”

  Donna went rigid and stared at Lori Sue. Now her eyes flashed with a barely suppressed fury, and she spoke through clenched teeth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice came harsh and low. “He only lets me out to do errands like this. He’s testing his control over me. I can’t help you and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of here now. Give me that box and go away!”

  Lori Sue put the box back on top of the other one. She watched Donna walk slowly and carefully back to the hotel, growing smaller and smaller. There was a guard standing outside the entrance now; there hadn’t been one before. He let Donna in, and then he looked down the street at Lori Sue until she turned and sauntered the other way. There was something more than met the eye here and she needed to puzzle it out.

  Chapter 16

  “I’m going to Hillsboro,” Billy said.

  He was sitting on Jason’s porch. It was evening.

  He looked for a reaction from Jason. Jason just watched him.

  “I talked to some of the people at the trade, that guy doing the negotiating, Goodman? I told him I can hunt and make liquor. He said he’d find me work if I came to town…seemed happy to have me.”

  “Big move,” Jason said quietly.

  “I’ll be all right.”

  “You thinking of riding with us when we go back for Adam’s other shot? Could be a couple of months. Don’t know exactly when.”

  “Don’t want to wait that long.”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed. “That’s a long way to walk. Take you, what, a week?”

  “Less, I think. It looked like pretty easy walking to me.”

  “Desperate people out there, Billy.”

  “They’ll never see me,” Billy said. He repeated, “I’ll be all right.”

  “So, right away.” Jason looked away toward the tree line for a moment before he spoke. Billy could see he was gathering his thoughts. “Your family came here with the very first settlers, Billy,” he said contemplatively.

  Billy looked at him, wondering where he was going.

  “Anne’s told me a lot of stories about this valley, and one thing I noticed was that there were Turners in every one.” Jason smiled. Then the smile faded and his expression turned serious. “Your dad kept to himself—sometimes with a vengeance. But he came out to fight for this valley. So did you.” He turned back to Billy. “I know we had some problems, but I think we got past them. Figured you’d want to stay where all the Turners have stayed.”

  Billy felt the force of Jason’s quiet entreaty. He gritted his teeth. He could hear all the things that Jason wasn’t saying.

  After the battle, Jason and Billy had had a run-in over Billy’s spying on Catherine and Sarah. And it hadn’t been just with Jason; Catherine had threatened to shoot him over it. In the subsequent year relations had healed, but Billy knew the incident would always be there between them. Certainly it would be for the girls.

  “I had kind of hoped you might join the army,” Jason said after a moment. There was a note of regret in his voice. “I’ll tell you the truth, I’d be happier if you did that.”

  Billy said nothing.

  “You’ve made up your mind then? No changing it?”

  Billy shook his head. “Ain’t nothing for me here. I don’t like farming...and I might meet someone to be with in town. Ain’t no one here in the valley.” Billy couldn’t fully express his loneliness since his father had died. Billy’s relationship with him had been troubled, but the silence of the farm since his death was too deep to bear. With the old man gone, Billy had no one.

  “You know there’s some bad characters in town. You don’t want to get mixed up with them.”

  “Says you. I ain’t seen it.”

  “Maybe you haven’t looked close enough.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Billy scowled at Jason. He was starting to get defensive.

  Jason grimaced. Billy could see that he was regretting pushing back too hard. When Jason spoke again, his tone was gentle. “Just be careful who you take up with. Remember, you want to be on the side of the good guys. You remember the story I told you about the sniper, the young kid that got caught up with Big Jacks?”

  Billy nodded.

  “Things didn’t end well for him. I expect, given the chance, he wasn’t such a bad kid, but we’ll never know. I don’t want things to go bad for you, that’s all.” Jason sighed. His eyes were sad as they met Billy’s. Then the older man nodded to him and slowly got up from the porch chair, as if to show there was no more to talk about. Billy stood up with him.

  “When are you going?” Jason asked.

  “I’ll set out tomorrow. Got everything packed. You can work my fields. Ain’t givin’ ‘em to you, but you work ‘em, you keep what you grow.”

  “Fair enough. If things don’t work out, you’re always welcome back. This is your home.”

  “I know…and…thanks. For all you did…for Pa and me.”

  “You’re welcome. You want to say goodbye to Anne?”

  Billy shook his head. “You tell her I said goodbye. I ain’t good at such things.”

  With that he turned to go.

  Billy arrived at the entrance checkpoint six days later, just after noon. His backpack, stuffed full when he left, was now considerably lighter. He had gone through most of his food except for his last two pieces of jerky. The pack now held only camp gear, ammunition, his 9mm semi-auto pistol, a rain slicker, and a few clothes. The weather had been good, and he hadn’t needed the slicker. At night he had found shelter in abandoned houses or buildings along the roads he walked.

  He wore a flannel shirt, partly unbuttoned as the day was heating up, and denim jeans with patches covering his knees. He was glad to have a solid pair of boots and some good socks. He felt good. The days of walking had eased his mind; he was looking forward to a new start in town. He hadn’t seen a living soul, hostile or otherwise, during the trek. He had stayed watchful, in case he needed to hide, but he thought that most strangers would have been just as glad not to see him.

  His .30-06 rifle was slung over his shoulder, and he had a hunting knife strapped to his belt. The guards at the barrier, only three men this time, had been closely watching him since he had appeared at the edge of the razed area.

  When he got near the barrier, they finally challenged him. Billy guessed they had waited until he was within their shooting range, which meant they weren’t very good shots. He figured his skills would still be in demand. Billy called out, “I’m here to see Mr. Goodman. He wants me to do some work for him.”

  “What the hell would he want you for? You look like some dumb hillbilly,” came the reply.

  “Ain’t none of your business, but he asked me to come see him.”

  “Smart ass, ain’t you.”

  Billy just stood there. He figured it wasn’t any use to argue with them. “Ask him yourself, if you want.”

  “We let you in, how you gonna find him?”

  “Figure I’ll just go to wherever the headquarters are. They’ll know.”

  “Can’t bring that rifle into town. You’ll have to leave it here.”

  Billy thought about that for a moment. “It’s my hunting rifle. Mr. Goodman wants me to do some hunting for the town.”

  The men at the barrier appeared taken aback by this information. They spoke inaudibly. Then one turned back to Billy and called out, “Got to leave it with us. If Mr. Goodman wants you to have it, he’ll have to let us know. We’ll keep it until we hear from him.”

  Billy shrugged and started to un-shoulder the rifle.

  “Hold it!”

  He looked at the guards. Their weapons were leveled.

  “Keep it over your shoulder till you get here!”

  He pushed it back over his shoulder and walked to the gate. He unslung the rifle and handed it to the man, and the other one pulled the barricade slightly aside so that he could walk through.

  The man holding the barricade said, “Go down this road
until it bends to the right. You go left on Stafford, for three blocks. When you reach Ogden, turn right. Goodman ain’t at City Hall. You want to look for the bank building. That’s where he’ll be.”

  “Be sure you keep my rifle safe,” Billy said. He reached over and released the five-round magazine from the weapon and stuffed it into his coat pocket, giving the man an impertinent look.

  The man holding his rifle scowled back at him.

  Billy’s good mood was a little darkened by the encounter. He didn’t trust the directions but with no other options, he followed them and found his way to the bank building. It was the tallest building he had seen so far, and the block it was on seemed much more active with people scurrying about going in and out of buildings. The parts of the town he had been walking through were mostly quiet, with few people to be seen. The building was a block away diagonally from another one with militia-marked vehicles parked along it and standing around outside. “Their headquarters,” he thought.

  Getting in to see Goodman required leaving his knife and his backpack with the guard inside the bank building. He hoped they wouldn’t go through the pack. He figured that they would confiscate the 9mm if they found it. Having it felt reassuring in this new environment.

  After a long wait, he met with Goodman who gave him a note assigning him to a room over in the militia block. He also got a note to take back to the barrier guards so he could retrieve his rifle. His main job would be hunting, but Goodman also wanted Billy to help out with a still the town was constructing out near where they were setting up a hydropower project. The work was being done by people who had read about distilling in books from the library, but no one in town had any practical experience. Goodman said he figured Billy might bring some real world knowledge to improve the process. Whiskey bottled before the attack was getting rare, Goodman said. And grain itself was precious these days, so if they were going to divert some to whiskey-making the product would need to be worth it. Billy could understand that.

 

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