by Kyle Pratt
Laughter sprinkled the room.
“I know my boss, Governor Monroe, hasn’t been campaigning,” Weston continued, “but he is still the only candidate running.”
“Can he win against Durant?” someone asked.
“Yes. I believe he will win, either at the ballot box or, if no one gets enough electoral votes, in the new congress.”
Caden stared at the sitrep map and did some fast math. If Monroe won every state under Constitutionalist control it would not provide enough electoral votes to win. Even with Utah and Texas it wouldn’t be enough.
Durant wasn’t running, still insisting the election be postponed. However, by Caden’s estimate, the states under Durant’s government wouldn’t provide the votes he needed to win the election either.
China, with its control of California and most of the southwest, could play kingmaker, but the new congress would never recognize an election they supervised. According to the Constitution, the House of Representatives would decide if no candidate received a majority of electoral votes. Durant would never allow that.
When Caden’s attention returned to the briefing, General Harwich was standing beside the sitrep map using a laser pointer as he talked.
“Both sides are reluctant to engage in full-scale conflict, but it is coming. New America divisions, loyal to Durant, are stationed around Minneapolis, Des Moines, Jefferson City, Little Rock and in central Louisiana.
“The Constitutionalist forces are centered near Bismarck, Pierre, Omaha and Topeka. The Texans control both banks of the Sabine River and western Arkansas.”
“Are the Texans fighting with us?”
“Texas fights for Texas, but their governor says they will fight with us when the war comes.”
“When the war comes, not if it comes?” Someone asked.
Harwich nodded. “I suspect the Kern flu will incapacitate both sides for the next few months. Millions may die this winter, but either a vaccine will be found or spring will come and the flu will wane. Then the fight will begin.”
“So you think there will be full-scale war?” asked a young second lieutenant.
“I think you can count on this,” General Harwich said slowly. “If you’re in uniform, and survive the Kern flu, you’re going to be fighting a war.”
Chapter Six
Hansen, Tuesday, September 22nd
Zach strolled down the quiet streets of Hansen toward the address DeLynn had given him the evening before. She had been secretive about it, just saying that her father wanted to talk with him. Mr. Hollister’s attitude had changed since the shootout at the ranger cabin, but he wasn’t looking forward to “a talk” from the father of his girlfriend. And why did he want to meet in downtown Hansen?
All Zach could see were empty shelves when he looked in the windows of the hardware store. A line stood outside a grocery market several blocks ahead. Something special, like meat or fresh fruit, must have arrived.
When he turned the corner, Zach realized the meeting was at the Lewis Hotel. That just added to the mystery. The seven-story, brownstone building had once been the grandest hotel in the county. It was empty now, and had been for several years. Zach knew about a backdoor that looked locked, but wasn’t. Many times he had pulled on the broken latch to open that rear door. This was one of the places he got things that he needed for trade.
He pulled on the front door and, for the first time, it swung open. The inside was dark. He scanned the lobby wondering if DeLynn might be there, and noticed a well-dressed woman sitting on a crate in the shadows. As he approached, he recognized Mrs. Hollister. On numerous occasions DeLynn had spoken of her mother’s problems. As the world spiraled out of control, she had sunk in a whirlpool of despair. Like his own mother’s depression, Zach struggled to understand her despondency. She had a loving husband and daughter and enough to eat. Why was she so sad? Busy with the task of surviving, he had rarely seen or asked about her lately. “Hi, Mrs. Hollister. DeLynn asked me to meet your husband here.”
An expressionless face stared at him.
“Do you know where he is?”
She pointed. “Standing in the middle of the street.” Her head slumped.
Zach walked out a side door and found Kent Hollister staring at the building from the middle of the road. Since there was no traffic, Zach joined him.
“I bought it.” Kent said with a smile.
“You did?” The outside of the building was drab, but Zach knew the inside looked like a construction project, or perhaps a destruction one. “You think this place is a good investment?”
“Yes.” The older man nodded. “The building is sound and it is near the only place in town with a thriving economy—the library park market. I needed a location near it and this was the cheapest building for sale that met the criteria.”
Yeah and I know why it was so cheap. It’s a wreck.
“I can tell from your face that you think it’s a bad idea, but that shop there on the corner of the hotel was once a bakery. I’m going to fix it up. I know where I can buy flour. Bread and pastries will sell well.” He pointed to another corner. “Fifty years ago that was a general store. It can be again. We can make this block bustle.”
“Okay, sir, I’ll help you fix it up.” It’s your money.
“I could use your help with the renovations, but what I would like is for you and Vicki to manage the general store. Our family will work the bakery.” He spread his arms and gestured toward the two sides of the building that faced major streets. “Eventually, I want stores in all those spaces on the first floor.”
“I’ve never run a store.”
“Actually you did.”
Zach cast him a confused glance. “No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
“The fish stand at the park was a small store. You’re a very resourceful young man with an innate ability to find food and other things you need.”
“Vicki and I fished and I hunted, then we sold what we didn’t eat. That wasn’t really a store.”
“Basically it was. The general store will just have a bigger inventory and there will be a couple more zeros to carry when adding up the balance.”
Actually I didn’t carry a balance. I ate it.
“In college I worked in a warehouse and an accounting department.” Kent Hollister patted him on the back. “I’ll teach you what you need to know.”
“It would be nice to have an inside shop, but how much do you want for it?”
“Rent you mean?” He shook his head and silently stared at his feet for several moments and then looked Zach in the eye. “I’ve come to a better understanding of a few things this year. You saved my daughter’s life and in this new and crazy world, you are better equipped to provide for and protect DeLynn than either her mother or me. Given the same circumstances, I would have starved—and my family as well. We’ll be building a future together.”
Zach felt his face flush. “I won’t have a lot of time until I graduate.”
“I want you to graduate and go on to college. Any future son-in-law of mine should be well educated.”
“Ah…son-in-law?” Zach’s face burned hot.
Kent smiled broadly. “You two seem to love each other very much, but I do want you both to wait, mature, and get some education.”
Finally able to speak, Zach said, “I also want to keep working at the armory.”
“I would prefer that you not join the military. I don’t want my daughter to be a young widow.”
“Huh?” Zach was certain he would soon burst into embarrassed flame.
Kent grinned again and then the two talked of business for several more minutes before Zach jogged on to school. First period was government class and since it was required for graduation he tried to concentrate, but he spent more time smiling at DeLynn, on his left, than at the notes Mr. Hammond wrote on the board.
DeLynn cast him a disapproving glance and nodded toward the board.
He reluctantly turned his attention to the front of the c
lass only to be surprised by big red letters, ‘Test on Friday.’
Zach sighed.
“Mr. Brennon,” the teacher asked, “am I boring you?”
Why did Mr. Hammond always address students so formally. “Ah…no…well, how useful is this class when the government is falling apart?”
“How can you understand what you’ve lost, if you never knew what you had?”
Another student asked, “Why do you always answer questions with questions?”
“I don’t.” Hammond smiled. “Do I?”
Laughter dotted the classroom.
“Will there be a war?” Delynn asked.
A boy near the front turned back around. “Your boyfriend fought in the first battle. It’s already started.”
The guy seated behind Zach patted him on the back. A few others chanted his name. Zach stared at the desk in humiliated silence wishing he could forget his cowardly performance as he hid behind a tree and cried that day.
After school he walked toward the armory with his head hung down, kicking stones as he went. He knew he wasn’t a coward. DeLynn thought he was the bravest man alive. He smiled and kicked another stone. She was brave too, and he liked that about her. Perhaps they had both been brave when they needed to be on that awful day at the cabin.
With one of his demons tucked away, at least for the moment, Zach smiled and jogged on toward his job at the armory.
* * *
Along the freeway south of Olympia, Tuesday, September 22nd
“So that’s my future,” Caden mumbled as he drove toward Hansen. He glanced at the blue folder on the passenger seat. “Die of the Kern flu or live and fight in another war.” Life in the army had taught him that death would come when it did. He would not live in fear of its arrival. Still, he had danced around death’s snare many times. How long could he do that before it caught him? Someday, the sun would rise and he would not feel its warmth. Life would go on, but without him.
He shook his head. Dwelling in despair and sadness was no way to live either. Life was a gift and, as long as he possessed it, he would enjoy it.
These drives up to Olympia and back always leave me too much time to think. Caden took a deep breath and tried to refocus his thoughts on something less existential. For several minutes his vehicle rolled along the empty asphalt.
Heading south out of Olympia, he reached a section of freeway lined with forest. In this area, with only an occasional home visible, he could imagine the terror attacks never took place. However, when he reached the top of a hill the freeway swept out for nearly a mile before him. He looked at his watch. Five vehicles were on the road, a fuel truck, an eighteen-wheeler, two Humvees, and the SUV he was driving, and it was rush hour.
Caden sighed and tried not to think of the growing threats to the nation and around the world. Even the problems of Hansen appeared daunting. With the collapse of the dollar, the cost of food had risen beyond the means of many people. Farming was once again a dominate trade, but many still went hungry. Law enforcement and security had been his main focus. He knew how thin the veneer of civilization was and, with war and a pandemic looming, he worried that the last of it would soon be worn away.
Governor Monroe always seemed composed. How did he manage the many issues he faced without being overwhelmed? Managing a platoon in combat seemed easier. Caden knew he was going to need help.
Rummaging in his pocket, he retrieved his phone and speed dialed Lieutenant Brooks. When he answered, Caden said, “I want to call a meeting of the LEPC—.”
“The what?”
“Local Emergency Planning Committee, or something like that.”
“Oh. You haven’t been to one of their meetings for months.”
“True, but I’m going to need their help.”
“How bad is it?”
“Bad, but it isn’t here yet, so we still have time. I’ll brief you when I get back and you should probably come to the meeting.”
“Ah, before you hang up, First Sergeant Fletcher didn’t report in this morning.”
“When did he last check in and what did he say?”
“Deputy Morris radioed in yesterday. He reported the location of another murder and said the patrol would be checking out a hunting lodge that might be the gang hideout. Morris said he was picking up supplies and returning to the patrol. That’s the last we’ve heard.”
“Do we have anyone else in the area?”
“No, but I have a squad ready. They can refuel with the Morton police and be at the lodge by dawn.”
“Do it.” Tomorrow was shaping up to be a long day. He wondered whom to call next and decided on Dr. Scott. She knew everyone on the LEPC and this was a medical situation. Poking around on his phone he looked for her number.
The blare of a horn startled him.
Caden looked up. His SUV straddled two lanes.
A huge truck filled his rearview mirror.
He swerved to the fast lane.
The eighteen-wheeler rumbled past.
Caden’s heart pounded in his chest. One other vehicle traveled along the road and, because of him, they had almost collided. Right then he decided that for any future military travel, he would have a driver so he could work in transit.
Recalling the rest area a couple of miles ahead, he dropped the phone on the passenger seat and continued south. The sun was still above the trees when he pulled off the freeway into what had been a park-like rest area. However, now the grass was overgrown and about a dozen cars were stripped and pushed to the rear where shadows and trees obscured the view. Near the forest, in a makeshift camp, a few people lingered beside a fire.
Caden reached for his phone when a familiar sense kicked in. Perhaps it was paranoia, or some lingering post-traumatic stress, but he didn’t feel safe. He pulled out of the rest area and drove down the highway several hundred yards.
Normally pulling to the shoulder of a freeway would be stressful but, on this empty road, he felt safe. Retrieving his phone he called Dr. Scott. “We need to talk.”
“I just got out of surgery. Can it wait?”
“Not really. It’s about the pandemic.”
“Did you get the medicines?”
“No.”
“Oh.” A heavy sigh floated through the phone.
“But we still need a plan. I’m told the Kern flu could be here in days.”
“Yes, it could, but I don’t know what we can do other than quarantine the sick and treat symptoms.”
“And pray for a vaccine,” Caden added. “Let’s get everyone together tomorrow morning at an LEPC meeting and see if we can come up with some plans.”
Two small boys trotted out of the woods ahead of him and walked toward the car.
“Okay,” the doctor replied
One of the boys pressed his face against the driver-side window.
Caden smiled at him. Into the phone he said, “Would you call them? I’m still traveling back and don’t have all the numbers in my phone.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re on the committee and they all know you.”
The doctor sighed again. “Sure, a plan would be good.”
“Great.” When he ended the call Caden dropped the phone on top of the blue folder next to him.
The boys lingered in the roadway. Caden rolled down his window. “Hello. Where are you from?”
The shorter boy pointed back toward the rest area.
“We’re hungry,” the other said. “Do you have food?”
“My mom is sick, can you help?”
“No,” Caden shook his head. “I don’t have any food.”
Disappointment spread across their faces.
He recalled Henry, the farmer stuck with his family in the parking lot by the freeway and wondered if he might be able to do some good, but he was concerned about the sick woman. “What’s wrong with your mother?”
The boys shrugged. Their eyes darted beyond Caden’s car and then, without saying a word, they backed away.
Caden stiffened. His senses went on high alert. He fingered his pistol.
The passenger door flew open.
A pistol pointed at his head. “Get out!”
Chapter Seven
Along the freeway south of Olympia, Tuesday, September 22nd
The two boys ran toward the trees.
Caught with a pistol in the face, his weapon holstered, and still seated, Caden opened the driver-side door, lifted his arms, and slid out of the car.
Another man jogged up clutching a baton-style flashlight. “Stupid kids! Why didn’t they say he was in uniform? Does he have a gun? We could have been killed.”
“Calm down, Jake,” the armed man replied. “They did what we asked them to do. I’ll keep an eye on him, get Carol into his car and let’s go.”
“He’s got a gun in that holster. Let’s get it before we go.”
Caden’s eyes shifted between the two. “You can have the car.” He turned slightly, moving the holster out of view and making himself a narrower target for the armed man. “But I’m keeping the gun.”
“Like hell you are,” Jake said and took a step closer.
The situation brought back memories of Fort Rucker and the two men who tried to rob him. Maria had been the unexpected savior there. He hoped to get home to her tonight, and he just might if Jake stepped closer. Caden visualized using the angry man as cover while he pulled out his pistol.
“Shut up Jake!” the man with the pistol barked. “Get your sister.”
With anger still in his eyes the man turned and jogged into the forest.
“I’m sorry about Jake. My wife, Carol, is really sick. I’ve got to get her to the hospital.”
“Did you run out of gas?”
Pistol Man nodded.
“Why didn’t you ask for help?”
“We’ve tried waving down cars.” He shook his head. “You’re the first to stop since we arrived. I couldn’t risk you saying no.”
A minute later Jake returned, struggling to carry a limp woman. As he neared, he stumbled and the woman slid toward the pavement.
Instinctively, Caden darted over, thrust his arms under her, and lifted. “I’ll help you get her in the car.” As they moved toward the SUV, Caden wondered if the woman had Kern flu. “How long has she been sick?”