Wolf nodded toward the pouch of the Wrist Rocket and amplified his threat, “This one will go straight through your face and into your brain.”
The mean guy huffed and scowled. He was breathing extra hard and his face was sweaty. He glared at Wolf and hissed, “You’re in deep shit, little boy. Mark my fucking words.”
The mean guy went back to holding his bleeding, wounded hand to his chest as he walked away. Wolf breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down at the table as he watched the mean guy stomp down the road.
After the man was gone, Wolf noticed that his heart was beating super fast. He also felt as though he should puke and cry at the same time. The young man didn’t know that the encounter had put his adrenal glands into hyper drive and produced a chemical that, without physical activity, caused the nausea and exaggerated emotional responses. The same chemical that turned Alexis Tillman into the “Female version of the Incredible Hulk.”
*****
Carrie had excused Tarra for the day. She felt as though Tarra and her twins had been through enough on their first day in The Park, and allowed them to return to site 199. Stephen had thanked Carrie for dealing with everything, to include the diffusion of the atomic, dramatic Julia situation. He also apologized (even though it wasn’t his fault) for the injury that she had sustained during the emergency transport of the gunshot victim.
Additionally, Stephen had asked her what she thought Hal might do in response to his latest discovery of his spouse’s infidelity.
“Not sure,” Carrie said, “he’s a really good guy, but now he’s hurt. He’s hurt, and he’s armed.”
“True,” Stephen had replied, “I’ll try to find Fish and give him a heads-up about it before Hal gets to him.”
Stephen decided to walk his family home to site 199 before searching for Fish. As they approached their site, Tarra suddenly grasped Stephen firmly by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. She pointed at the picnic table at their site and said, “Someone’s there.”
“It’s just a little kid, wait here,” Stephen instructed his family. He wanted them to remain on the road as he proceeded to investigate. He cautiously stepped toward the young man at the table. He seemed harmless enough, and had the same aloof appearance that Fish often had.
“Are you lost, young man?” Stephen asked the boy.
“Mister, I really hope your name is Stephen!” Wolf exclaimed.
“It is. Can I help you with something?”
“Yes, sir. Fish sent me.”
Stephen recalled his family and sat down with the extremely polite little boy, who had introduced himself and explained how he had met Fish at the beach, shot the birds, and subsequently was ordered to ask a man named “Stephen” if they were edible or not.
Stephen smiled at the boy and said, “Actually, they are. Seabirds can be eaten, however, since they feed mostly on fish, shellfish, and unfortunately…garbage, their meat will be quite oily and might not taste very good.”
Wolf pointed to where he had stashed the seagulls and said, “The birds are over by that tree.”
Stephen grinned at his wife, but she did not grin back. She knew where Stephen was about to go with the conversation.
“Are we really, Stephen? C’mon, we have other stuff we can eat!” Tarra cried out. She knew that Stephen wanted to try out the birds that very evening.
“Baby, I know you know how to clean and dress those birds. Let’s put them on the fire tonight and try them out. I’ll season them up with my special herbs and spices!”
The Kays both exclaimed, “Yeah!” since they were both quite adventurous when it came to trying out new cuisine. Plus, daddy was a professional at making normally bland stuff taste great.
“Fine,” Tarra sighed, defeated, “but you’re going to get me two buckets of water. It’s gonna be a mess.”
Katrina asked, “Can Wolf have some seagull with us, too?”
Stephen looked at Wolf and said, “What do you think, Wolf? Wanna join us for supper tonight?”
Wolf looked shocked, it must have been a while since anybody had invited him to anything. He reluctantly replied, “I think I’m supposed to go back to the beach. Fish might want me to get some more birds.”
Stephen put his hand on Wolf’s back and smiled as he said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, it will be dark soon. Don’t worry about Fish, little buddy. He gets really hungry. It won’t be long before he’ll be back here. I’m going out to look for him in a minute, anyway.”
Wolf was glad that Fish would be joining them, but he also felt as if he should mention his mother to Stephen’s family. Their own food supply had been nearly diminished, and he didn’t want to have a nice seagull supper while his mother suffered through another pot of fire-cooked plain noodles or beans.
“Can my mom have some, too?” Wolf asked.
Stephen and Tarra looked at each other. Tarra replied first, “Of course she can, honey. That’s very sweet of you to think of your mother.”
Tarra instinctively knew not to ask about inviting his father. Or even whether there actually was a father or not. The Collapse had taken quite a few mommies and daddies since its inception. Wolf’s daddy might have been one of them.
Stephen fetched the buckets as Tarra had requested. After setting them down, he announced, “I’m out of here to go find Fish.”
Before Stephen departed, Wolf said, “Wait, I have to tell you something. Someone was here earlier.”
Wolf replayed the showdown with Larry Paulson for the Alexanders. Stephen and Tarra both understood immediately who the little boy was speaking about when he described the man as “the mean guy with a big belly”. Stephen was impressed (and thankful) that Wolf had the courage to stand up to a grown man as he had done, but he wanted to tell Wolf to never do that again. He could have gotten hurt, or maybe even killed. Larry Paulson was a bad apple.
At the conclusion of Wolf’s story, Tarra shook her head and said to Stephen, “Whatever you do, DO NOT tell Fish what happened.”
“No, no. I totally agree with you,” Stephen replied. “I’ll take care of it myself. I think I might be able to get him removed from The Park. I found out some things today while I was at the provision managers’ site.”
Tarra had originally decided not to tell Stephen about Larry’s creepy visit to Carrie’s site after lunch, but with this new revelation she felt as if something needed to be done.
“I have something to tell you, also,” Tarra said to Stephen, and then provided him with her version of what Larry had done to her earlier that day. Tarra watched as Stephen’s face frowned and he became angry. Angry, but motivated.
“That does it. I’m going to speak with Claudine and William at tomorrow’s meeting. I don’t care if that fat bastard comes looking for me or not, he’s messing with the wrong family,” Stephen declared. He thought about the M-4 rifle strapped to his back, and wondered if Larry possessed a firearm or not. Probably not. Stephen would shoot Larry, if he absolutely had to. Stephen had killed his neighbor, Mickey, in cold blood, so he was already going to hell if there was one. He couldn’t change that. What’s one more dirtbag to add to the list?
Stephen thought to himself, “What does Fish sometimes say? Gimme me a test and I’ll put two in your chest? Something like that...”
Tarra re-verified with Stephen that they were not to tell Fish about what Larry Paulson had done. Stephen elected to take the high road and let The Park leadership make the decision. If Fish found out, he might eliminate Larry on his own, which could jeopardize their family’s position in The Park.
As the Washington sun set on the horizon, Stephen picked up a small flashlight and headed down the trail that led to the beach to find Fish before Hal Hollingsworth found him.
*****
Fish had come across two of Alexis’ team members patrolling the beach, and found out from them that she was on the beach near the bridge, which was about a half mile from where he currently was. They told him that she was over there bra
instorming a better way to intercept infiltrators if they were able to sneak past the bridge team, as it had already happened twice in the past.
As Fish marched with his dog through the pebbly sand, he admired the gorgeous, reddish-orange sun setting over the Puget Sound. He wondered what time the day shift officially turned over their duties to the night shift. He had forgotten to ask.
Each minute that passed caused the sky to darken. When the sun was only a wispy smidgeon of fire on the horizon, Pharaoh began to growl. Something or someone in the distance near the tree line along the beach was making the dog nervous. Fish readied his M-4 rifle and left the beach, opting for the cover of the trees before proceeding.
Fish advanced. He moved from tree to tree as Pharaoh followed alongside him. There was a clearing ahead, and a man was standing in the middle of it. The lack of light prevented Fish from determining what he was doing, but other than just standing there, he appeared to be doing nothing at all. It likely wasn’t an infiltrator, as Alexis would have stopped him before getting this far along the beach. Was it one of the beach team members? Nah, they normally traveled in two’s. This guy was alone. Fish needed to find out, for it was his beach, and he was charged with its protection.
Fish said to Pharaoh, “You ready to check this out?”
The dog wagged its tail vigorously in response.
Fish bolted from the tree he had been hiding behind and called out, “Yo, who are you and what are you doing here?” as he moved quickly toward the unidentified person.
The man was startled and put his hands up, shouting, “Don’t shoot! I’m unarmed!”
A couple steps closer and Fish immediately recognized the trench coat and the book in the man’s hand. It was that Jesus-thumper Walter Pullman! What the hell was he doing out on the beach at that hour?
Pharaoh had charged at the frightened man, but Fish called him back.
“Oh, no, it’s you!” Walter yelled as he noticed whom his aggressor was.
“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing out here, Walter?” Fish questioned as he walked forward, but he got his answer just as soon as he had asked.
“Careful where you tread, young man!” Walter exclaimed and pointed at the ground in front of Fish. He had almost stepped upon a grave.
“Whoa! I didn’t see that…sorry,” Fish apologized and stopped in his tracks. There were seven mounds dug in the sandy clearing, each one was circled off by small rocks and marked with a crucifix, but they differentiated. Five of them were simple, hastily constructed tree-branch crosses, and the other two were created by smooth wooden planks elaborately decorated and adorned with mementos.
In the low light, Fish was barely able to discern the wording upon the two smooth crosses, but upon closer inspection one read, “HOWARD MOEBIUS” and the other, “DOUGLAS TOWNSEND”.
Fish said to Walter as he pointed at the two fancy crosses, “I’m guessing these are the good guys?” Then waved at the other five, saying, “And these are the bad guys?”
“That’s correct, young man, but we’re all God’s children. Every soul deserves a proper burial, regardless of the poor choices they had made amongst the living,” Walter explained.
Fish didn’t necessarily agree with what Walter had said. He believed that the bad guys would have been better off as crab food at the bottom of the Puget Sound, but he didn’t have time to debate ethics with the old man. Fish backed out of the sandy cemetery and told Walter, “I don’t know what you’re doing out here, probably some Jesus stuff, but it’s getting dark. It will be too dangerous for you, especially since you are unarmed.”
“I fear not. God is with me,” Walter said.
“Okay, well, if you accidentally get shot by one of the security teams don’t say I didn’t tell you so,” Fish warned, and then resumed his journey to find Alexis.
*****
Stephen had searched the shoreline for Fish until he was approached by two patrollers. One of them had yelled, “Turn off that flashlight, idiot!”
“Excuse me?” Stephen barked back.
“You’re making yourself a target,” the other said, waving an arm at the Puget Sound. Stephen realized that the two men were correct, he wasn’t being very smart. There were boats out there.
“You’re right, my bad,” Stephen admitted as he clicked the light off.
“What are you doing out here, anyway?” one asked.
“I’m looking for my friend, Fish. He is the new night shift team leader,” Stephen replied.
“We’re actually looking for him, too. He missed the shift turnover meeting. We heard that he went toward the bridge looking for Alexis, but she was at the meeting, so he’s way out there all alone right now. And, he doesn’t have an air horn or the radio,” they explained.
The two men had invited Stephen to tag along with them as they worked their way toward the bridge, but Stephen declined. It was too far away, and he wanted to get back to his family. Stephen informed the men that Fish wasn’t alone, and that he had a German shepherd with him that just so happened to be a prior military working dog. The men both agreed that was “pretty cool”, but still chose to find him anyway.
Stephen bid the two patrolmen farewell and good luck, and asked them if they could relay a message to Fish. Stephen conveyed the importance of speaking with Fish as soon as possible. The two men had asked why it was so important, but since Carrie had mentioned that Hal’s wife was cheating with a night shift beach team member, it possibly could have been either of the two men, so he just told them that it was a private family matter, and that it was urgent.
Once Stephen was back on the forest trail and far enough away from the beach, he clicked the flashlight back on and went back to camp.
*****
Back at site 199, Stephen arrived to see that a fire had been made and the Kays were sitting in camp chairs nearby, their faces illuminated by the firelight. Tarra had cleaned the birds and they sat upon the picnic table in one of the buckets, ready to cook. Stephen was pleasantly surprised to see how much meat was retained after Tarra’s workmanship. She had learned how to prepare animals for cooking from her grandfather, who began teaching her at a very young age. He did it not just for Tarra’s sake, but also to spite Tarra’s mother who had abandoned the old ways and replaced them with drugs, booze and men. Tarra had just about followed in her mother’s footsteps during her twenties until she met Stephen.
Wolf was gone, he had disappeared to find out if his mother wanted to join them for a seagull supper (which, of course, wouldn’t be just seagull). Tarra had told Stephen that she wasn’t sure if Wolf was coming back or not, and to go ahead with seasoning the meat so they could get them on the fire. Stephen got the impression that Tarra was quite hungry indeed!
The birds were cooked directly on the built-in steel cooking grate above the fire pit. Stephen wanted the smoke from the Alder wood he had secured from his woodcutters earlier in the day to flavor the meat as much as possible. He was a tad apprehensive about eating seagull, but since he had eaten nothing since the cheese and crackers at lunch, his hunger forced him to be just as adventurous as the Kays naturally were.
As the birds roasted on the fire, Stephen occasionally turned them with a pair of metal tongs as he and his wife chit-chatted about the day’s events.
Tarra asked, “Is it even worth it? I mean…being here. We’re dealing with all this drama and I still don’t even feel safe!”
“I think so,” Stephen answered after flipping the birds another quarter turn, “we’re a lot safer here than at home.”
“Are we really, though? Anything can happen here. Just because we have trees all around us doesn’t mean we’re safe. There were bad people already implanted here before we even arrived. That creep Larry Paulson, for example,” Tarra said.
Stephen thought for a moment, then replied, “I told you I’m going to take care of the Larry Paulson issue. Just give this place a chance. Couple more days, at least. If you’re still not satisfied, we’ll pack it up and he
ad out. I’ll leave it up to you.”
Tarra sighed as she stared at the seagulls on the grill, “Maybe you’re right, babe. I just didn’t like all the drama today with Julia and Sydney, and who knows what Hal is up to right now. You know my #1 drama rule, right?”
“Yeah,” Stephen laughed, “drama is awesome, just as long as it isn’t yours.”
“Yes!” Tarra howled, and threw back her head.
Katrina spoke up, anxious to join the adults’ conversation, “Mommy, you looked like a movie hero today when you jumped in the road to save Dakota.”
Tarra took that as an extreme compliment. The power of one of her daughters mentioning her in the same sentence as the word “hero” suddenly reaffirmed her dedication to The Park. She decided that she could tough it out as long as it took. After all, a hero’s work is never finished.
Minutes flew by as the birds continued to roast, the Alder smoke continuing to work its magic deep into the seabirds’ oily flesh. The Alexander family was enveloped by the smell of well-seasoned, fire-seared fresh meat. Juices exuded from the semi-crusted skin of Wolf’s seagulls, creating an image of dark, glistening ghosts of odd-shaped chickens in the evening firelight. Maybe the gulls wouldn’t be so bad after all.
By the time the birds were ready to eat, Wolf and his mother still had not reported for supper. The Alexanders ate the gulls by themselves. Most of the bird wasn’t delicious, but it wasn’t terrible either. Edible. Edible was the best word to describe it. However, the seagull breasts were a different story. They weren’t half bad at all!
A good portion of the birds were destroyed by the Alexanders when Fish and Pharaoh finally arrived at site 199. Only a pair of greasy thighs cooled down by the chilly night’s air remained on the metal camping plate at the picnic table.
THE COLLAPSE: Seeking Refuge Page 10