Seeking a Sane Society: Nothing is the Same (The Seeking Series Book 2)

by Albert A. Correia

  Mary went to the service closet and filled the bucket with water, thinking, Hey, I’m not all that bad at this spying business.

  * * * * *

  “Do you still have your contact in Santa Cruz?” Campbell asked Madruga after reading Mary’s notes. “Those people in Catalina need to know they’re going to be attacked in less than three weeks.”

  “Among other things, including that they have a spy in their midst,” Madruga added. “I planned on contacting my friend in Santa Cruz right away but when I thought about the situation we have, I felt it was important that you see these notes first.”

  Campbell regarded the law officer curiously, wondering why it was so important that he see the notes first. Madruga was often able to put two and two together before the second two became visible, so there must be something that wasn’t obvious here. He thought over the situation, looking for the hidden issue.

  It hit him. “Aha, the moral dilemma.”

  “Good, you see the position this puts us in.”

  “We’ll be having the election at almost the exact same time Silva will have his troops out attacking Catalina. If they’re there, they can’t be here.”

  “That’s right, and it does pose a moral dilemma for us.” Madruga said. “We planned on keeping the news of the election away from Silva for as long as possible to limit the time he has to build up forces to disrupt it. Can we keep it secret now, knowing that if we do, they will go out and kill hundreds of innocent men, women, and children?”

  “So, the choice becomes clear. Do we stop him from killing people there so he can instead stay here and kill us?”

  “An interesting choice.”

  “We’re going to have people with guns,” Campbell said, trying to put a positive spin on the alternative that seemed most morally correct. “Ted says a lot of the farmers and ranchers have them, and you’re not just giving a lot of rifles to locals; you’re teaching them how to shoot.”

  “You said ‘people with guns’ and unfortunately that’s an apt description. Some of the farmers can use them, and even a few city folk, but I’m afraid that most will be like movie extras, just there holding guns for show. In the amount of time we have, I doubt that we can train enough of them to fight off a sizable force of armed criminals.”

  “The moral dilemma grows,” said Campbell.

  “While you’re working through that one, let me throw one more log on the fire,” Madruga added. “When we get the inside dope and send it to Catalina, the spy out there will hear about it. That will get them wondering where we’re getting our information. Sooner or later someone will put two and two together. We’ll be putting Mary in even more jeopardy.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 25

  TED West followed the San Joaquin River east, stopping at the occupied farms and ranches along the way. He zig-zagged and stayed in the fields. He avoided going near Tracy and didn’t even get close to Banta, a small hamlet east of Tracy.

  When he got to the freeway that led from Tracy to what was once Stockton, he positioned himself behind a tree where he could see the entire freeway for miles. There was no traffic, but he wanted to be careful. He saw no one for half an hour and finally came out from behind the tree and rode Stroker across the freeway.

  He noticed that the bridge over the river was intact but had no need for it at this time. He planned to distribute newspapers to all the farms within several miles of the river on the south side for a length of twenty miles. After that, he would extend out to ten miles from the river and work his way back west. Then he would work east again, traveling twenty miles from the river. Eventually, he would hit all the farms with occupants on that side of the river.

  He would cross the bridge to drop his newspapers off with the farms and ranches on the other side of the river and go at least to Manteca, possibly to Modesto if time and supplies permitted.

  He found people at four of the more than thirty farms along the way from his ranch to the freeway. All responded positively. They said they would vote and agreed to burn the newspaper once they had digested the information. He found another eight people at the farms and ranches between the freeway and Barnes Occupational Center (BOC), which was located a few miles from the river. They, too, pledged to participate in the election and oppose Silva. Silva was known and mistrusted by almost everyone who had a stake in the area. In all that distance, he had only cut down two wire fences. Frightened, stampeding animals knocked most of the others down long before he got there.

  West kept an eye on the prison facility as he passed by BOC. Even though it was a training facility for low-risk prisoners in preparation for their release, it had housed violent criminals from its inception. He thought he could hear screams of pain from the silent buildings, shuddered, and turned away.

  A thought struck him. Had he seen movement from behind a chain-link fence in the area right outside the prison walls? His mind was no doubt playing tricks on him because of the prison’s reputation. He turned back, expecting to see nothing. He pulled up on the reins of his Palomino when he saw two men with rifles jumping into a convertible. They drove out an open gate and turned toward him.

  West had no intention of trying to talk to armed men coming out of a prison so he scanned the area. Most of the land he already passed was leveled for crops. If their vehicle was four-wheel drive, they could easily travel through the soft dirt. The leveled fields would make it impossible to hide. The terrain was rugged and there were trees ahead, so he urged Stroker into a fast gallop.

  There were many trees and thick brush in the area ahead, and he was sure he would be able to lose them. He spurred Stroker on faster, but his hopes dashed quickly. A second vehicle came out from the other end of the prison, speeding along to block his path.

  * * * * *

  Campbell went with Madruga to the police station to make the call to Santa Cruz, but there was no answer.

  “He should be there in five minutes,” Madruga said, looking at his watch. “We talk every twelve hours unless one of us notifies the other of a change. That way, if one of us doesn’t respond, we know there’s a problem.”

  “Do you know this fellow well?”

  “He lived in Tracy for a couple of years before moving to Santa Cruz. He was in a different class, so you may not have met him. Paul Burchett?”

  “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “Anyway, I knew him in Tracy and ran into him again when I vacationed in Santa Cruz ten years ago. We stayed in touch after that. The connection came in handy when the bombs dropped. It was good to have a connection with a capable fellow in another town. You never know when it will come in handy. It already has.”

  “A cop?”

  “Fireman. A good one, I figure. Word was he was on the fast track to the higher echelons.”

  A voice came over Madruga’s radio. “Manuel, are you there?”

  Madruga picked up the handset. “Right here, Paul.”

  “Did you call a few minutes ago?”

  “Yes. We have a situation.”

  “Sorry. I was outside with someone who needed food, and I couldn’t get away. What’s up?”

  Madruga summarized what he knew about Silva and his plans to kill everyone at Two Harbors, sink the coast guard cutter, and enslave the people at Avalon.

  “That’s definitely a ‘situation,’” Paul agreed. “Captain Kotchel will want to talk directly to you about it. According to the last message we got from him, he will be here in two days. I can arrange a radio connection or would you prefer to meet with him personally?”

  “Hold on a minute, Paul,” said Madruga. He turned to Campbell. “You up for a trip to the coast?”

  “Aren’t all the highways between here and the coast gone? And there must be radioactivity all through the coastal area north of Santa Cruz.”

  “Both true, but the mountains and trees between Santa Cruz and the Bay Area saved the coastal area there from radiation. If we stay in the valley and cross over the mountains at Pacheco
Pass, we can get to Santa Cruz from the south. It’ll take a few extra hours but I think it’s important we meet Captain Kotchel.”

  “I agree,” said Campbell. “Assuming we survive the next few weeks, we’ll no doubt work with him quite a bit in the future. Set it up.”

  * * * * *

  With vehicles bearing armed men closing in on him from two sides, West had no choice but to change course and head directly toward the river. The vehicles were handling the rough dirt in the fields with ease, and it was obvious that they were both equipped with four-wheel drive. They were gaining on him.

  West could see that the riverbank ahead was elevated and wooded. The bank wouldn’t be a big hindrance to a four-wheel drive vehicle, but the trees might be close enough together to constitute a barrier they couldn’t cross.

  The vehicles maneuvered around the first line of trees. The drivers tried to continue up the little hill, cutting the wheels hard to avoid trees and brush, but soon found they were in too dense a maze to continue. They stopped the vehicles, and the men jumped out and ran. They were now within one hundred yards of West.

  I’ve probably just wangled an extra minute or two of life, West speculated anxiously as his horse scampered up the bank, but that’s better than a minute or two less.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 26

  WHEN he got to the top of the riverbank, West looked back to see his pursuers. He glimpsed a familiar-looking piece of paper on the ground behind him. He saw that the flap of his saddlebag opened and a dozen copies of the newspaper he was delivering were about to fall out. One already had. He stuffed the papers down into the bag and closed the flap tightly.

  He had to pick up the paper that fell and get out of there. As he dismounted, he heard a shot and a bullet narrowly missed his back, ripping into a tree next to him. He looked back again and saw that the first vehicle had stopped and the men were running toward him. One took a shot but luckily, for West, it was while he was running, so the shooter wasn’t able to steady his aim. More men exited the second vehicle and were not far behind the first pair. He was out of time.

  “Let’s go, boy,” he said, sitting up in the saddle and spurring his horse. Stroker obeyed immediately. The horse knew what his rider expected and when he reached the top of the bank a second later, he leaped toward the river. Bullets flew by but none hit anything.

  West jumped from the saddle in mid air and hit the rushing water next to his mount. Moments later, he was out of sight.

  * * * * *

  The coast guard crew prepared the people at Avalon and then went to Two Harbors to go over defense plans with the people there. They were about to weigh anchor to begin their voyage north when they received a message from their home base of Port Hueneme.

  Although most of the naval facilities there were destroyed, a dock, several buildings, and diesel tanks were intact. Captain Kotchel’s base in the San Diego area was destroyed, along with other U.S. Navy and Coast Guard bases on the West Coast, so he adopted Port Hueneme as his home port.

  The radioman on the cutter thought it was important enough for his captain to take the message directly. Kotchel went below to talk to the contact in Hueneme, and the message caught his immediate attention. He asked several questions, all the time reconstructing a timetable in his mind. The cutter would have to return to Catalina a week sooner than originally planned so that they would be there when the phony governor’s troops attacked.

  There were other issues, too. Apparently, Avalon was going to be safe, at least for the near future. That meant they could make some changes in their current plans. More importantly, though, Silva and his men knew what was happening on the island. How? It didn’t take him two seconds to determine the answer to that question.

  Kotchel went ashore and into the old restaurant. Acting Mayor Harry Peckham was reviewing some papers at a desk made from old packing crates. He set the papers aside when Kotchel came in to explain what he had just learned.

  “A spy?” Peckham said when he heard the story. “We watch newcomers closely, but a real spy? We’re not much over a month into putting society back together, and already we have to deal with an actual spy?”

  Kotchel shrugged. “We received this information, which means that our side also has one in Tracy,” he noted.

  “Two months ago I would have said, ‘what is this world coming to?’” Peckham moaned, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I won’t say that now because I already know.” He rose from his makeshift desk. “Let’s go into the next room where the radio is located. I need to let Warren and Zach know they have to be on the lookout for an enemy agent.”

  They might have an idea who it likely is,” Kotchel said. He told Peckham about Barry Lockman.

  “Sounds like they’re going to have their hands full,” Peckham mused. “It’s a good thing it’s those two. My assessment of Zach is that he has the experience to handle almost anything. Warren is no slouch, either. He’s young; but he’s a good man.”

  “They better be good. The lives of a lot of people are in their hands.”

  * * * * *

  When the two men from the first vehicle the top of the riverbank, Stroker was forty feet from shore. The horse swam toward the opposite side of the river at an angle because of the strong current. West’s straw hat floated down river with the current, but the man himself was nowhere in sight.

  “Where could he have gone?” Bennie, the man who fired the first shot, asked.

  “He’s gotta be hiding in the thick reeds and branches at the waterline,” Lon, the other man, said.

  “Maybe he’s swimming underwater.”

  “I doubt it, but I guess it’s possible. I’ll start beating along the waterline; you keep an eye on the river. If he’s underwater, he has to come up for air soon.”

  “What if he does?”•

  “Kill him. Capturing him would be too darned hard, and someone who tries this hard to get away would be too much trouble if we did manage to capture him.”

  The other two men arrived moments after Lon went down to the waterline.

  “Where is he?” one asked.

  Bennie explained what his partner had surmised. “There’s another possibility, though,” he said. “There’s a lot of trees on the bank, so he might have found one he could hide behind. “Maybe one of you oughta go down and help look along the waterline and the other can check the trees on the bank.”

  Once he had the other two busy looking around the trees, Bennie returned his gaze to the water. He still saw no sign of West, but wondered if the man had come up for air while he was busy talking with the others and was now back underwater. His eyes swept the river, but all he saw was the hat, the horse, and a thin floating tree branch. All were now a hundred feet downriver.

  While one of the last men to reach the bank went down to the waterline, the other scanned the trees. He didn’t see anyone but he did see a piece of paper on the ground. Trash on the ground didn’t bother him – he always tossed whatever he was through with on the ground – but this paper looked fresh. That was suspicious, being as there probably hadn’t been anyone on this bank for months except them.

  He picked it up. The headline stared at him: “Election for Governor!”

  “Hey, Bennie, you see this?”

  Bennie came over and read the paper. It confused him. Hadn’t the boss said they were working for the governor, that fellow Silva who he had been in prison with? He wasn’t much on reading, but when he thought that over, he read more. With each sentence, he became more interested.

  “Hey, what the devil you up to?” Lon called from below. “We need to find this guy and get rid of him.”

  I’ve got something more important than some cowboy, Bennie thought. I got a feeling Mal is gonna give me a bonus for finding what I got here.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 27

  ZACH was with Warren in the latter’s boat, the cabin cruiser that took supplies to Avalon, when Peckham called. The boat was tied to the dock in
the middle of the bay. Warren listened to Peckham for a few minutes, and then turned to Zach. “You need to hear this,” he said.

  Zach got on the radio and Peckham repeated what he told Warren.

  “Let me see if I have this right,” Zach said after listening for a few minutes. “Silva is going to attack early because he heard that the cutter is gone; he is going to leave Avalon alone so that he can pick up the survivors here and use them as slave labor; and there is a spy somewhere in our midst.”

  He stopped to listen to Peckham.

  “Yes,” he responded, “I agree that Lockman is a jerk. He has some wild political notions and not a person we like having around.”

  He listened again, and said, “Yes, I can see why the captain would think we suspect the man, but. . . ”

  Overhearing the conversation, Warren blurted, “What do you mean, but? Of course, it’s Lockman. You heard him Zach. He stuck up for Silva and acted as though the man really was governor. Remember what he did and said? He got all bent out of shape and lit out of the place when we started making plans to fight the phony.”

  “Harry,” Zach said into the mike, “I’m going to respond to Warren, but I’ll be speaking into the mike so you can hear, as well.”

  Peckham acknowledged that.

  Zach said, “Warren, what you just said casts doubt on your suspicions.”

  “What are you talking about?” Warren demanded.

  “You were right, Warren. Lockman got so mad he left the building. He wasn’t there when we were making our plans and when Captain Kotchel told us he was going north.”

  Warren stared at Zach, mulling it over.

  In Two Harbors, Peckham asked Captain Kotchel if that was what happened. He came back on the air and told Zach that Kotchel confirmed that Lockman had not heard their plans.

  * * * * *

  The four men on the riverbank looked for almost five minutes and didn’t see a sign of West. They got together to talk over what they should do.