by Tara Ellis
“We need to talk with you about those men we encountered in the mountains,” Bishop said, changing the subject. Tom was coming to understand that Bishop was exceptionally organized in his thinking and execution. Since they’d gotten the response they needed from the sheriff regarding the cattle, it was time to move on to their next objective. The speed with which he shifted tactics and direction wasn’t a personality trait Tom expected from a man who worked a cushy desk job in the city.
“What about them?” Sheriff Waters asked, pushing the plunger down on his brew.
“Something needs to be done about them,” Tom said brusquely. “Soon.”
The sheriff peered at Tom over his steaming mug and raised his eyebrows. “And what sort of something would that be?”
“Our understanding is that the next rider is still scheduled to go out in two days,” Bishop said.
“Yup,” the sheriff confirmed. “I talked it over with Barry, the guy riding next, and he’s still willing to run it so long as we send a few extra guns out with him. One of my deputies and two others already volunteered. We’ve been waiting on some much-needed meds and can’t put this run off.”
“Good,” Tom said. “Then we’ll only have to scrounge up a few more.”
“A few more what?” Sheriff Waters pushed, his patience with them clearly running out.
Bishop took a step forward. “A few more volunteers. We figure there’s a good chance the desperados know the route and maybe the schedule. They’re using the trail that connects that valley to the freeway. Odds are they’ll be waiting either just north or south of it.”
“Only, we’ll be prepared,” Tom cut in. “And this time, they’ll be the ones ambushed.”
Sheriff Waters set his coffee down and tugged at his gun belt before hooking his thumbs in it, squinting at Tom. “Aren’t you the one who just got done lecturing me about how we can’t do anything that jeopardizes the freedom or lives of anyone? And not a minute later you’re suggesting we ambush and kill upwards of a dozen men?”
“I’d say closer to nine or ten,” Tom corrected. “And this would qualify as one of those situations that can’t be avoided.”
“They attacked us first,” Bishop said, staring back unflinchingly at the sheriff. “I talked with Jed and he confirmed that he was jumped near where that trail comes out. He was lucky the priest came along when he did, and that there weren’t more of them. They’ve already killed two of our riders, and they’ll kill more if we let them. Eventually, they might get bold enough to come to Mercy. If we act now, we still have the advantage and the element of surprise. With more time, their numbers will likely grow and there’s a good chance they’ll also get more organized.”
“Oh, I see,” the sheriff huffed. Moving behind his desk, he stood staring out at Main Street. “Sounds like you’ve got all the justification you need.”
“Sheriff.” Tom walked around the other end of the desk so they were facing each other. “We need your support in this.”
Sighing, the sheriff ran a hand along the edge of his unshaven jaw, clearly unhappy with the position he found himself in. “I’m not saying I disagree,” he finally said, still staring outside. “Hell, I’ll even offer to go myself. One of those men they killed was a friend of mine, Tom.”
The sheriff turned to look at him then, and Tom was reminded of some of the lighter conversations they’d shared over the past few years, back when things were normal. Waters was a good, fair man, and it was unsettling to see the scorn in his eyes.
“I just want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”
“Our options are limited, as well as our reasons,” Bishop answered for Tom. “Unless you want to drop the gag order and reach out to the military for help.”
“Like I said,” Sheriff Waters voice had grown more of an edge to it. “I don’t disagree, and the military isn’t likely to be a better choice.”
“I think we can all agree on that,” Tom said.
“What about the civilian government?” Bishop suggested.
Tom looked at him, surprised. It wasn’t something Bishop had ever mentioned before and he felt like he was being blindsided. “What do you mean? Last I heard, the civilian government didn’t exist.”
“Maybe not at the federal level, but what about the states?” Bishop stood with his arms resting behind his back as he faced the other two men. “I’d imagine there’s got to be some disagreement going on given how the military is literally invading their states. We’ve been going through all of this blind so far. I’m simply suggesting that we attempt to get a little broader focus.”
Tom studied Bishop’s face for a moment, trying to figure the older man out. All of a sudden, he was an advocate for the state government? His eyes narrowing, Tom carefully chose his words. “I don’t see how we could possibly defend isolating ourselves from the military while at the same time trying to reach out to anyone else.”
A light knock at the partially open door interrupted them, and Tom turned to see a middle-aged man he’d never met before standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, Sheriff. I was on my way back to the church and thought I’d stop in to see if you’re done writing your eulogy for Father White.” His voice was a little too syrupy for Tom’s liking and he would have never taken the man for a priest. Maybe an insurance salesman.
Sheriff Waters grunted and then sorted through some loose papers scattered on his desk. He didn’t look too happy about it as he grabbed a page and then walked it over to the man. “Tom, this is Father Rogers, our new pastor,” Sheriff Waters said as an afterthought while handing the priest the paper.
Father Rogers nodded in Tom’s direction and folded the eulogy in half. “Nice to meet you,” he said somewhat dismissively, before turning back to the sheriff. “Thank you, Sheriff. I’ll be sure to have Madeline add this to the service.”
As Tom watched the man leave, he noticed he was wearing regular street clothes and didn’t have a collar or anything else to designate himself as a pastor. The bell chimed as he opened the front door, and Tom frowned. It hadn’t rung when Father Rogers came in, making him wonder just how long the pastor had been standing there, listening to them.
Chapter 13
CHLOE
Natural Spring, Mercy, Montana
Chloe led Ethan to where all of the tools were stored, while glancing over her shoulder at the tumultuous sky. She was already getting stressed out over another storm that was forming, even though it was well south of the valley. “Here,” she said, handing him a hammer. Ethan ignored the tool and moved past her to start rummaging through the large wooden box.
“I prefer this kind,” he said, stepping back with something that looked more like a sledgehammer to Chloe. “And I’m guessing I’ll probably need one of these, too.” He held up a saw and grinned when she rolled her eyes. “What? You think I don’t know my way around a toolbox, Chloe? You know who my dad is.”
Snorting, Chloe snagged a bag of nails from Caleb before he went back to unloading more supplies from the nearby wagon. The Spring Clearing, as they’d come to call it, was bustling with activity that morning. After the last storm, everyone decided that they should build a protective shelter over the main body of the spring.
Sam confirmed the night before that their suspicions were right about the rain. It was becoming toxic to the plants and fish, and could eventually contaminate their drinking water. Thankfully, the source of the water was deep inside the earth so they should be able to keep it drinkable by keeping most of the rain out. Sam suggested constructing the building a minimum of ten feet to either side, to avoid groundwater leaching in.
Chloe noticed where the stakes were set for the foundation poles, and figured it was going to be closer to fourteen feet, which would give them a sizeable building when they were done. Bishop mentioned using it to store some of the water, so they’d have a healthy supply in two different areas. Apparently, keeping all the goods in one place made it “vulnerable”. To w
hat, she wasn’t sure and didn’t ask. Some things were better left unsaid, and Chloe was trying really hard the past few days to be more optimistic.
Ethan picked up three eight-foot lengths of two-by-fours and they walked together over to where the construction was just getting underway. “I don’t think I know anything about you,” Chloe countered. “Except what your grandma told me, and what I could get from a year-old picture.”
“Oh, yeah? And what was that?” Ethan asked, seeming amused by the conversation.
Chloe bit at her lip. She wasn’t sure why, but there was something about the guy that threw her off. Her normal snark was markedly slow on the uptake and she was way overthinking what she was going to say. Maybe it was his broad shoulders, or incredibly enticing green eyes—
“Earth to Chloe,” Ethan called, nudging her arm.
Blushing, she tried to recover any potential cool points that might remain. “Honestly? A kid about three inches shorter with a fondness for chess and an obvious wheeze.”
“Ha!” Ethan chortled. “Yeah, Grandma likes to brag about how brilliant I am. I mean, she’s right, but I’m more of an outdoors kinda guy than your normal nerd. I don’t even play chess…much.”
“Bring those over here!” Sam called to them as Grace ran up and tried to take one of the boards in her mouth.
“No, Grace!” Ethan ordered, laughing at the dog’s antics. “Leave it. This isn’t yours.” Looking heartbroken, the retriever barked once and then ran off to find a real stick.
“She’s a smart dog,” Chloe giggled, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t giggle. Ever.
“Shh, don’t let her hear you call her a dog.” Ethan dropped the boards at Sam’s feet and then gave the older man a mock salute. “We’re here to do your bidding, sir.”
Sam returned the salute with a small gesture toward his forehead and then pointed at the obnoxiously long hammer. Raising his dark eyebrows, Sam shook his head without comment.
Chloe had been around the four newcomers for barely more than twenty-four hours and she was already envious of their friendship. She’d only heard some of the things they’d been through together while on the road, and she suspected the rest was the sort of stuff that could make strangers closer than some families.
“Sandy said you have quite a bit of knowledge about the rain,” Patty said in greeting as she approached the three of them. Chloe was happy the mayor was there that morning. She hadn’t seen her much the past few days, and had been wanting to set up another time to go out to their place again to help in the garden. Sandy and Patty were a lot alike, but Patty had a way of engaging Chloe in some fascinating conversations that reminded her of time spent with her dad. The last time she went over, they sat in Patty’s garden pulling weeds for nearly two hours, talking the whole time about space, the universe, and what a black hole was.
“I don’t know if I’d go so far as to call it knowledge,” Sam replied, leaning on a shovel. “More of a supposition. There’s probably more reliable information in the books at your school in town.”
“Perhaps,” Patty said while pulling on some work gloves. “Except that I can’t have a conversation with a book, can I?” When Sam shook his head and smiled, she took a step closer and smiled at him. “I’d like to invite you to our next council meeting, tomorrow morning. Tom is already going and I think it would be very beneficial to get your input on some things, too.”
Sam scratched his head and wrinkled his nose at her. “I’m not much for committees, Mayor. I’ve sat on enough to last a lifetime. What sort of input are we talking about?”
“Oh, nothing scary,” she promised, waving a hand in the air. “A firsthand account from someone who understands a bit of the science behind what’s happening would be very educational. Most of what we’ve garnered has been via some tapping on a ham radio and word-of-mouth from our Pony Express riders. We’ve been blessedly sheltered from a lot of what’s going on, but I’m afraid it’s also limiting our view, if you know what I mean.”
“The view’s just fine here in Mercy,” Ethan offered. “Trust me.”
“Well, I did hear someone asking about indoor farming,” Sam said. “It might be something worth talking about, because if you’re going to attempt it, you’ll need to start soon before the ground pH is altered by the rain.”
“See? That’s exactly why we need your input!” Patty said, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. “We’ve already got some great greenhouses on a few farms, but I know we’re going to have to do something on a much grander scale if we plan on feeding our whole community.”
Chloe grinned as she watched Sam nod. The man was already sucked in over his head and didn’t even know it yet. It was a talent of Patty’s that Chloe suspected had helped make her successful as mayor.
“Maybe a few old barns?” Sam was obviously thinking out loud. “You’re going to want to be close to a fresh water supply, of course, and have either sunlight or some sort of rigged artificial light, which would obviously be difficult. Solar panels?”
“How about a cave?”
Patty and Sam turned to look at Ethan, who shrugged at them. He pointed toward the mine opening. “Henry’s Hollow. You know the story, Patty. The old miner, Henry, found it early on when they started that mine. It’s bigger than two of the school gyms put together, and has a couple of natural chimney holes that let in some light.”
“You’ve been in it?” Patty asked, her eyes wide.
“Of course!” Ethan said, as if offended, which made Chloe laugh. He narrowed his eyes at her before turning back to the mayor. “A lot of us kids have been at some point. It’s our county version of a haunted house.”
Chloe guessed he was referring to a sort of rite of passage. Like the more typical haunted house in the town where she grew up, where you’re dared to go and touch it. Some kids took it further and threw rocks through the windows of the old, abandoned mansion, but Chloe refused to go along. Always the rebel.
“It’s dangerous in there,” Sandy said, joining their group. “When the mine was abandoned, they left a bunch of crap behind in that cave, including their old dynamite.”
“So we clean it out,” Sam suggested.
“You know how to handle old, crystallized dynamite?” Sandy asked.
When Sam shrugged his shoulders, Patty wasn’t discouraged. “I’ll bet our friend Bishop, as a civil engineer, knows a thing or two about handling explosives.”
“I saw him and Tom ride up a few minutes ago,” Sam said. Chloe noticed how he seemed to have forgotten everything he’d just said about not wanting to be on a committee, and was just as eager as Patty to take on the new project. “Let’s go find Bishop and see what he thinks.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Ethan called after the adults as they all walked away together. “We’ll just stay here and build stuff, even though the cave was totally my idea.”
Chloe chuckled, relieved it didn’t come out as another giggle, and picked up the shovel Sam dropped. Normally, she didn’t get along very well with guys who were younger than she, but Ethan was mature for his age. Maybe it was because of what happened to him in the past three weeks. “When’s your birthday?” she asked without really thinking about it first.
Ethan looked at her in surprise, confused by the sudden change in subject. “Um, about ten days…I think. I’m still not real clear on what day it is.”
“It’s June 30th,” Chloe explained. “And my birthday is next month.”
“You’ll be seventeen?” Ethan asked, sounding suddenly shy.
Chloe wagged her eyebrows at him and enjoyed seeing him squirm a little. “Nope. I will be an adult, so I believe that means you’ll have to do what I say.” He seemed to relax when she joked about their nearly two-year age difference. She was a little surprised to realize that it mattered to her that Ethen knew she didn’t care he was younger. Because…she liked him. Against every rational thought she could have come up with over the past two weeks when imagining th
e boy and his dad traveling to get home against all odds, she liked Ethan.
“Tell ya what,” Ethan said, putting an arm around her shoulders as they walked to where everyone was gathering to get further instructions. “If you promise to ignore our age difference, I’ll give you a private tour of Henry’s Hollow.”
Enjoying the sense of security and belonging his closeness gave her, Chloe smiled up at him. “It’s a deal.”
Chapter 14
DANNY
Outskirts of Mercy, Montana
The wagon rattled over the gravel road, jarring Danny’s bones with every little bump. She couldn’t imagine how the pioneers rode for weeks on these things when there weren’t even any roads. It made sense now, the pictures she’d seen of the weary travelers walking alongside the covered wagon, instead of inside.
A large container of water was carefully centered in the back of the cart, and secured with several straps to prevent it from shifting. It was the third run of the day to bring the much-needed spring water to the distribution center set up at the northern edge of town.
“You guys consider adding some sort of shock absorbers to this thing?” Danny said to her father, who sat next to her holding the reins. She was impressed with how comfortable and happy he still looked so late in the day. It was the first run she’d made with him and her backside was already sore.
Chuckling, he moved slightly on the creaky bench seat so he could face her while they talked. “I imagine this takes some getting used to. This new one is quite a bit smoother than the original.”
Danny raised her eyebrows. “Really? I can understand why it broke apart, then.” She regretted the words as she watched her father’s face cloud. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I know you lost some friends in the accident.”
“We’ve all lost friends,” Tane replied, facing forward again. “And loved ones.” He glanced sideways then, and Danny knew he wanted to say something more but was holding back.