Flashpoint (Book 4): Decay
Page 2
Soon.
Her prince would come and rescue her.
Chapter 2
RUSSELL
Quarantine, Mercy, Montana
“I thought we should meet, Father Rogers.”
Russell did his best to appear meek as he sized up the woman seated across from him. Mayor Patty Woods was formidable. That much was immediately apparent. She looked to be in her sixties, of average size, with her graying hair pulled up tight and neat. Her nails were trimmed but not painted. She wore little makeup, if any, other than some eyeliner and lip gloss. She sat with her hands folded on the table, leaning forward slightly; a position that, while reserved, welcomed conversation. Russell knew exactly how to handle the mayor.
“Especially in light of how you came to be in Mercy,” Mayor Patty continued. “Jed returned a short time ago from his run and confirmed your encounter, so I also wanted to thank you, in addition to introducing myself.”
Russell took care to also lean in to show interest, except that he opened his arms in an inviting manner and placed his hands palms-down on the table. “Please, Madam Mayor, call me Russell. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and helping Jed was something I’m sure anyone in my position would have done.”
The mayor didn’t move, nor did she comment on his bravery. Russell resisted the urge to frown. The conversation itself was unexpected since he wouldn’t be out of quarantine for another nine hours. That was when his twenty-four hours of isolation would be up. He glanced at the finger paintings that adorned the walls surrounding them and did his best not to cringe. The town had converted the small school building into a clinic, and the kindergarten room was their quarantine area. According to the young man who’d escorted him there a day ago, it was because the room was on the far end of the building, and had its own separate bathrooms. Funny, how having the use of a flushing toilet made one feel human again. It was one of the perks of living in a small town; everything was on a septic system. All you needed was a bucket of water next to the toilet to keep things moving.
The silence had drawn out to the point of being awkward so Russell gave the mayor a quizzical look.
“Jed said you never mentioned being a pastor.” While Mayor Patty’s tone wasn’t accusatory, neither was it friendly.
Russell had been expecting the question. He took a moment to sigh heavily while looking down at his hands, his shoulders slumping. When he looked back up at the mayor, he offered her his most charming smile, knowing the effect it had on most women. “Mayor, can I be honest with you?”
Sliding her hands back across the table, the older woman allowed them to fall into her lap as she leaned back in her seat and relaxed slightly, her demeanor changing. “Let’s both drop the formalities. Call me Patty. And I’ve always preferred the truth.”
“Well…Patty, the reason I didn’t talk with Jed about my role as a pastor is because I’m not certain I deserve that title anymore. I—” Russell turned away from Patty then, his handsome face contorted with pain and strife. “I’ve seen things, turned a blind eye to atrocities, and the truth is that I’m questioning my faith. I’m not sure I can get it back.” He let out a slow breath and discreetly wiped away a tear.
Patty reached out and placed a comforting hand on top of Russell’s and he knew he had her. He responded by hanging his head further, submitting himself to her platitudes.
“I’ve had my faith challenged several times during my life,” Patty offered, her voice kind. “While it all pales in comparison to what’s happening now, it still comes down to what we do with it. Questioning our faith is a normal, human reaction. Allowing it to help you grow and solidify your beliefs is the challenge. Otherwise, it will destroy it.”
Russell placed his other hand on Patty’s and gave it a quick squeeze before pulling away. Nodding his head, he took an audible breath and then rubbed his hands together. “You’re a wise woman, Patty. Perhaps you should lead the church body, as well as the town.”
“Gracious, no!” Patty retorted, blushing slightly. “I’m having a hard enough time as it is. I’m certainly not qualified to be responsible for anyone’s soul.” Patty eyed Russell for a moment and seemed to come to a decision. “You know, a good method for rediscovering one’s faith is to become submerged in it.”
Russell steepled his fingers and raised them to his lips while squinting at Patty. He already knew where she was headed and wasn’t surprised at the ease with which he’d manipulated her. It really didn’t take much with most people, although he had to admit to a slight surge of disappointment. He’d hoped she might prove to be more of a challenge. “What are you suggesting?” he asked with false trepidation.
“Father White has been leading Mercy down the road to righteousness for more than thirty years. Although he’s an amazing priest who has scared many a child into submission with his sermons, the flashpoint took a toll on his health.”
“Radiation?” Russell guessed, eyebrows raised.
“Unfortunately,” Patty confirmed. “Father White is over eighty years old and became quite ill. He’s still struggling and I…we all worry about how hard he’s pushing himself. I think it would be a welcome relief for him to have some help.”
Russell shifted in his chair and looked up at the Mickey Mouse clock on the wall, although it of course didn’t work. Doing his best to appear uncomfortable he cleared his throat before answering. “You’ve been more than kind, and to offer me a chance to explore my convictions is—well, extremely gracious. How can I say no?”
Patty smiled, and Russell was intrigued, as always, by the course of human nature. They were essentially creatures forever looking for approval, which then equated to a false sense of love and acceptance. It was extremely liberating once you didn’t constrain yourself with those needs.
“I spoke with Tim’s parents,” Patty said, and Russell’s interest was once again piqued. “They said they never heard of you.”
Russell’s smile was genuine as he prepared his scripted response. He was rather enjoying the conversation now. “I’m not at all surprised to hear that. Tim said they weren’t churchgoers and had in fact had a falling out with him a couple of years ago over religion. I doubt bringing up his Episcopal priest friend would have been a warm topic of conversation.”
Patty chuckled. “That sounds like the Ridgeways. They always make sure I keep a strict delineation between church and state. I once had Father White open a city hall meeting with prayer and I was lectured on it at every opportunity by Mr. Ridgeway for over a month.” Her smile faded and she became serious again. “They’re devastated, of course, to hear about Tim, but are grateful to you for bringing them the information.”
“I first met Tim over a year ago,” Russell lied. Leaning back in the chair again, he became thoughtful while staring out a nearby window. The steep mountains of the valley were visible in the distance, reminding him of where he was. He had reached his goal and needed to solidify his place in Mercy. Over the next few days he’d be laying the foundation, and it all began with a solid story of his past.
“I went to the asylum where Tim worked as a guard, to give communion to the residents,” Russell explained, looking back at Patty. “He attended the service and stayed afterward to speak with me. It was the beginning of an unexpected friendship. He soon began going to my small church in town and we often went fishing afterward, on Sunday afternoons. Tim reminded me of my younger brother,” Russell said, which wasn’t a complete falsehood. “He was kindhearted and treated all of the residents under his care with empathy and compassion. I only wish I was the one who had been shot that night, instead of him. There wasn’t anything I could do.”
Patty made a clucking sound and patted his hand again. “No one blames you, Father. I mean, Russell. It’s a miracle that you made it this far.” Standing, Patty went to a bottle of hand sanitizer and saturated her hands. “It’s already obvious that you’re not ill, but I hope you understand we still have to take these precautions.”
“Completely unde
rstandable,” Russell answered, impressed with how priestly he already sounded.
Patty hesitated at the door and then looked back at him. Her eyes were glossy and her lips quivered. He was impressed that after all of the death and extremes Patty experienced, she was still able to show such emotion. “Tim was a good man,” she said shakily. “I knew him since he was a boy. Though I’m sad to learn he didn’t make it, there’s some comfort in knowing that his soul was at peace.”
Russell thought about those final moments as Tim writhed on top of him, clawing at his arms…the scuff marks on the floor. He watched as the door closed shut behind Mayor Patty, and then allowed a sneer to transform his handsome features into something vile.
“Peace isn’t what I have to offer.”
Chapter 3
PATTY
Mercy, Montana
“Father, I thought you’d welcome the help!” Patty stood with her hands on her hips, facing the stubborn old man. “The church apartment hasn’t been used in years. It seems like the perfect solution to getting the help you’ve been asking for.”
Father White waved a hand at Patty before turning away from her in annoyance. He shuffled back up the sidewalk, toward the church. It was an antiquated building, exactly what someone would expect to see in a small-town setting: white clapboard siding, large ornate stained-glass windows, wide-sweeping steps, and even a bell tower.
While the Catholic clergyman had always taken great pride in his church and large congregation, Patty never thought he’d be so stingy about sharing it. “Father!” she called to his back, genuinely shocked by his behavior. “You won’t even talk to me about it?”
Huffing loudly, Father White stopped and turned back abruptly, tugging at his robes as he did so. Patty noticed he’d taken to wearing the formal attire all the time, rather than strictly during services, like he used to. She considered the very real possibility that the older man had been pushed past his limits both physically and emotionally. The thought was disturbing and also saddening. While he could be ornery, the pastor had been a staple of Mercy for as long as she could remember.
“The man left his flock.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Pastor White seemed to be challenging Patty to deny it.
Patty blinked, taken aback. That was why he was in a huff? “My understanding is that his church burned down, father. What else was he supposed to do?”
“The congregation is the body of the church, not the building,” Father White said stiffly. “He abandoned his parishioners.”
Patty studied the man’s face for a moment, taking in the deep lines and blue eyes that still sparkled with intelligence. She knew he had a kind heart, which was why his reaction was so unexpected. However, she had to acknowledge that he might have a valid point. “Father, we’ve been extremely blessed here in Mercy. We’ve been protected from the worst of what’s happening to the rest of the world. I understand your concern, I just think it’s the sort of question you should be asking Father Rogers yourself, instead of judging him.”
The remark had the desired effect as Father White flinched in acknowledgement of the accurate statement. He cleared his throat and squinted up at the clouds building on the far edge of the valley. “He’s still in quarantine.”
Patty nearly failed to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape. “He’ll be out in time for the barbeque later tonight, Father. Perhaps that would be a good opportunity for you to meet him. You know, he did travel over five hundred miles to reach Mercy, just so he could let Mr. and Mrs. Ridgeway know about Tim, who was a part of his congregation.”
Father White grunted in response, but didn’t say no. It was progress.
“Three days,” Patty said, reaching out to rest a hand on the older man’s arm. “That’s all I’m asking, Father. Allow Pastor Rogers to stay at the church for three days, and if, at the end of that time, you still think it’s a bad idea, I’ll find different accommodations for him.”
The distinct jangling of tack and wagon parts caused both Patty and Father White to turn toward the road. Sure enough, Caleb and Tane were seated atop the old wagon, headed their way. Patty knew she was going to lose her chance to get him to agree, so she looked over at the pastor and purposely crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “So? Do we have a deal?”
Throwing both of his hands up in defeat, Father White began to shuffle away again. “Three days, and not a minute longer,” he said over his shoulder.
“What’s that grin for?” Caleb asked as he pulled the wagon to a stop a few feet away.
Patty’s smile widened in response to her husband’s question. “Oh, just a little PR. What are you two up to?” She asked, turning her focus onto Tane. Mr. Latu wasn’t well known to Patty, but he’d been spending a lot of time with Caleb ever since they began work on the radios. The Pacific Islander was one of the biggest men Patty had ever seen and the combination of his calm demeanor and inviting dark eyes intrigued her. He moved to Mercy three years prior and according to Caleb, had a daughter who lived in Helena but had been out of town during the flashpoint.
“Bishop spent all morning refining the filtration system on the spring,” Tane explained. He gestured at the large green plastic water tank in the back of the wagon. It had been an incredible find, tucked away in a barn at one of the farms. It held five hundred gallons and was originally meant for watering cattle. It would have been impossible to move it around without the wagon, and they weren’t even sure the cart could handle the weight until the first, nerve-wracking trip.
Tane slapped the side of the tank. “He’s improved the flow so that it’s nearly twice as much. Once we work out the hiccups on filling and delivering it, we estimate at least a thousand gallons a day is possible.”
“When can we start filling the reserve tank?” Patty asked. She saw Tane’s smile falter and realized she’d done it again…failed to recognize an accomplishment while reaching for a further goal. “This is amazing!” she rushed to add. “I’m just eager to see some drinking water in the main holding tank.” The five-thousand-gallon tank had been dragged down, literally, from the useless water-treatment plant. It was their goal to have it filled by winter. Even then, it would only be enough to supply the town’s population for five days, if something happened to the spring.
“Understandable,” Tane replied, nodding in agreement.
“We’re on our way to drop this off at the water center,” Caleb explained the obvious. He was referring to what used to be the coffee stand and its adjacent parking lot, located at the south end of town. It was a good, central location with plenty of open space for setting up the necessary water stations, as well as the holding tank. “We’ll exchange this clean water for the five-gallon river water barrels so the teens can make their house-check in quadrant one.”
“Did quadrant four get completed yesterday?” Patty asked, realizing she’d been neglecting to check in with the extremely important task force. The past two days had been a whirlwind of activity involving the butchering of Sandy’s steer, organizing the town dinner, and getting a solid start on the farmer’s market.
“I believe Betty took quadrant four’s notebook up to your office this morning,” Caleb replied, looking concerned. “Haven’t you been to your office yet? It’s nearly noon.”
Patty felt disoriented for a moment and looked around fleetingly to locate the sun. How could it be so late? She hadn’t even had breakfast yet, let alone lunch. She should have never gotten sidetracked with the newcomer, but the Ridgeways somehow heard about Tim and the mysterious pastor, and she couldn’t avoid the conversation any more when they stopped her that morning on her way into town.
If she dug a little deeper, Patty might have to admit that she was also avoiding the house-check task force. It was headed up by Gary, whom she’d been dodging for the past two days. However, Councilman Paul, their old mayor Ned, and Councilwoman Betty were a part of the group, so there was really no excuse. Patty simply had too much on her plate.
Rubbing at her fo
rehead in a futile attempt to stop a mounting headache, Patty figured it was more of a platter, when she added Bishop to the growing list of people to evade. Caleb didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about his interest in the radio and it was hard for Patty to convey why she’d found the situation odd. Bishop was the golden boy and she’d been the one to allow him to stay in spite of Paul’s protests. With everything that was going on, it wasn’t in anyone’s best interest to say or do anything to cast doubt on Bishop, and thereby her judgement.
Giving up on stopping the pain in her head, she dropped her arm in defeat. “I’m headed to my office now,” Patty said to her husband while glancing up at him and hoping he didn’t pick up on the weariness in her voice. “I’ll go through the requests and organize a response this afternoon.”
The system was rather ingenious, Patty had to give that much credit to Paul. There were a hundred and sixty-eight houses on the outskirts of Mercy. While the bulk of them were located in close proximity to the main area of the town, quite a few were spread out further into the valley. Fortunately, the most remote homes were working farms and belonged to people who could manage better on their own than any organized group could pretend to do. That left a grid of four sections, each with roughly thirty houses per quadrant.
Paul put together his task force and they spent several days creating detailed notebooks, one for each quadrant. Each house had a section within the notebook, and that was how they tracked each home on a weekly basis, for their health, wants, and needs. It had been Betty’s idea to use the high school kids. She was a teacher and knew all of the teens and their families, and believed it was the perfect way to put them to work.
They ended up with a dozen kids, overseen by the four adults, working together to closely monitor the residents of Mercy. The house-check task force was separate from the drinking water delivery, but they did offer river water, or what was lovingly referred to as “The Flush”.