A Haunt of Jackals

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A Haunt of Jackals Page 11

by G. R. Carter


  Kara raised her eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. “And?”

  “And the Caseys and King were both flagged as Level Two threats by Homeland. That’s just short of ‘Terrorist with a Bomb Strapped to their Chest’ level. “ He waited for a chuckle from the Bradshaws.

  He noted their cold stares and continued. “Seems they were part of a criminal syndicate that moved billions around the planet. Jumping money and goods from one secret account to another,” Gray told them. He was fidgeting now. He diverted his eyes away from the pair.

  “What else, Andy? Come on, somethin’s got you spooked. What do you know?”

  Andy shook his head, still not looking the Bradshaw siblings. “It’s what I did…who I told that bothers me now.”

  The silence of the morning was marred only by the breeze rustling and the singing of birds. Finally Gray huffed and answered. “I tipped Homeland off about your meeting that was going on this week. After you told me about all those bigwigs coming in from across the country to meet with the Caseys…I just felt like I had to tell Homeland. I was worried…I guess I justified it thinking I was protecting you all. They were going to find out either way…”

  He stopped stuttering. “Look, Homeland has been tracking all these guys for a long time. If I hadn’t told them about it—I told them you all tipped me off—they would have accused you of being in on it. Think about the crap that would have brought down on the lodge…hell, on the whole county!”

  Gray wasn’t finished. “We may be the edge of the universe to the regional capitals, but they sure would have made our lives miserable if they thought we were holding out on them, harboring fugitives. This lodge is the biggest tax revenue producer in the county outside of the farms.”

  “That won’t last if tourists think we’re spying on them,” Kara said. Sy didn’t look like he'd made that connection. Now his face got even redder as he glared at Gray.

  The sheriff didn’t back down. “Maybe, but I’m telling you this in case the hypothetical problems are far outweighed by the real ones.”

  “How can they possible know who’s gonna be where?” Sy asked. “You make it sound like they were gonna know even without you tellin' ’em.”

  “Grapevine,” Gray answered. “Worst thing’s ever happened, that stupid artificial intelligence they let loose on the web knows what a person is going to do before they can even think it. Satellites, listening posts, street cameras…all tied in together with those wristbands people wear to keep their money on. You know those things can sense if a person isn’t wearing one? Detects some kind of bio-signature, matches it to the wristband signal, and if a person doesn’t have a wristband on it automatically makes Grapevine aware. Like GPS in a way. Starts triangulating to find out who it is and what they’re doing. Damnedest thing.”

  “Without Grapevine the whole web would have crashed because of the solar storms,” Kara said.

  Gray shrugged it off. “Maybe so. I’m not so sure it was really all that bad. Not much affects out here.” He sighed. “And it isn’t working right now anyway.”

  “Jacksonville, too?” Kara asked. Brownouts weren’t unusual anywhere outside the major cities, but usually things were back to normal quicker in Springfield than out in the boonies.

  Gray shook his head. “No, I mean the whole thing. Even in Springfield, everything is dark. I had a portal to Grapevine in my office and Jacksonville PD had several. The only people with outside contact right now seem to be the prisons, and they’re not letting anyone in or out.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “JPD says that there’s been some Army trucks coming in and out of their prison since the power went out. The Chief went over to find out what was going on, and the guards turned him away. Warden wouldn’t even see him.”

  “Isn’t that against the law? Figured the Chief could get in anywhere he wanted,” Sy said.

  Gray laughed at the question. “Those prisons are privately run. Some company out of Springfield has the contract to operate them. But supposedly it’s a shell corporation for one of the big law firms out of St. Louis. All mobbed up.”

  Sy took off his hat and threw it to the ground. “Then why ain’t Homeland lookin’ into them instead of us!” he shouted. “We’re just little fish and them people,” he pointed south towards the city a hundred miles away, “are stealin’ folks blind.”

  Gray just hung his head, unable to find a good answer.

  Kara did it for him. “Because it’s all in who you know and who you pay off.”

  Gray nodded. Sy picked up his hat and stomped off towards the timber. They watched him disappear out of sight.

  “I really am sorry, Kara. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “I know, Andy. I believe you. Doesn’t really matter anyway. I don’t think any of those VIPs are going to make it here this week. The airports are probably a mess if all the little connectors are out of power.”

  Gray stammered for words. “Kara, I don’t think you’re getting it yet. I mean, everywhere is out of electricity. Even St. Louis. Chicago too, I'd guess. There are no airports working. Heck, from what the JPD Chief said, any plane in the air when the power went out just fell right out of the sky. It’s pitch-black except for the fires burning. I’m telling you, it’s bad.”

  Kara stood dumbfounded, unable to comprehend the idea of the cities dark at night. She’d been to St. Louis several times, years ago, and even Chicago once. The huge buildings were lit up like Christmas trees 24/7, the streets a constant bustle of people and self-driving taxis. What would those people do in the dark? How would they eat? It was getting colder, would they have heat?

  Gray finally broke her train of thought. “That look on your face is the same one I had when the Chief told me. Takes a while to wrap your mind around. I still shudder at the thought of what hungry people are capable of…and I’m guessing there’s a lot of hungry people right now. Power’s been out there about three days and most people don’t keep but a day’s worth of ration bars in their homes.”

  “The ration bars…” she mumbled. Her face tensed, she seemed confused in her thoughts.

  “What is it?” Gray asked. “What about the ration bars?”

  “There’s millions of those things in the old Dot Foods warehouse on the edge of town.”

  “That’s true. I didn’t even think about it. Those supply all of St. Louis. If all that food is here…”

  “Then St. Louis is starving. The government warehouses in the city only keep a week’s worth of rations…I guarantee someone important has got their hands on them. I doubt if they’ll care much about the people.”

  Kara thought for a moment. “Jeremiah said there’s been army trucks in and out of that plant…but I think he said the trucks stop at the prison and then head back west, towards Jacksonville.”

  Gray shook his head. “Not just Jacksonville, Springfield too. The trucks keep coming through from what the Chief said. We didn’t put the two together. He just figured it was Homeland moving troops around for riots or something.”

  Both were lost in thought for a moment.

  “Andy, who else knows about all this?”

  “I’d guess the Kaplans. Those people have a grapevine—” he stopped and chuckled, “didn’t mean it that way—all over. A lot of their Syn ends up going to St. Louis and Springfield, so their contacts keep them well informed about everything happening.”

  Kara thought about Darwin and Erline Kaplan speaking privately. Her stomach churned again, this time because someone she thought she could trust was suddenly suspect. “If you know they’re cooking Syn, why don’t you shut them down?”

  “With what?” Andy fired back, his eyes glaring at Kara.

  He softened his look and his tone when she winced at his snap. “Sorry, you know it’s a touchy subject. I just don’t have the manpower to go storming into that valley and shooting up the place. Besides, they’ve got the same law firm on retainer that owns the prisons. All I can do is keep them
from bothering the locals. Which, for the most part, I've done.”

  “What’s next?”

  “Next I head back in to Mt. Sterling and figure out what to do with a couple thousand citizens sitting in the dark with nothing to do,” Gray told her. “I think I’ll check on that prison, and Dot Foods too. See if I can make contact with someone.”

  “Want Sy to go with you?” she asked.

  “He’d better stay here. Looks like you’re going to have a houseful for a while,” Gray said.

  “Andy, why don’t you send Margie to stay out here with us? At least until you get things figured out. Her and the kids might like having the company instead of sitting in the dark,” Kara said.

  “Thanks, I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ll bring them out here later. Sure it won’t be an imposition?”

  “Heck no. Happy to have them. You’re welcome to stay out here, too.”

  Gray shook his head. “I’ve got three deputies, total, for this entire county. I figure I’ll be sleeping at the station tonight. Maybe by the time I get back Grapevine’s portal will be reconnected and I can get some news from the outside world.”

  Kara nodded. “Just be careful, Andy. Everybody’s really confused right now. Confusion falls into frustration and fright soon enough. You know better than anyone how stupid people get when they’re scared.”

  “Thanks for the concern. I’ll watch out,” he assured her.

  He walked away with a police officer’s confident strut, but Kara couldn’t help but wonder if it was all an act. No one had ever faced a situation like this, at least not in America. Gray was trying to be strong for her and for everyone else; surely he was scared for his family if not for himself. She had been doing the same during the meeting at the lodge and with her staff, putting on a brave face to keep things together.

  Ben Casey once told her trusting no one was the only thing worse than trusting everyone. She was being forced to trust people who she’d known all her life, but never in a true life and death situation. How would they react? She didn’t really want to find out, but what choice did she have? Every local knew where the lodge was, and everyone in the entire county would get word of the meeting and know the Bradshaws had supplies. If the power stayed out and people showed up for help, they’d have hard decisions to make. And if people didn’t like her decisions? She hated even thinking that way, it made her feel dirty. But she had to look out first and foremost for her staff and family.

  A certain peace came with having no other choice. She could look herself in the mirror and know she was doing the right thing, the only thing. But with that confidence another emotion crept in, kept at bay until now by the internal conflict she faced. Now she admitted it to herself for the first time—I’m scared.

  Chapter 19

  Western Illinois Correctional Facility

  Mt. Sterling, Illinois

  Night Two of the Great Reset

  Rob Wilson was still a hundred yards from the physical plant, cursing his lack of attention to cardio training. His heart pounded, a result of exertion and excitement. He hadn’t been in a situation like this since he was 19, as a private in the Sandbox. The rest of his career had been one training exercise after another, preparing for a day he was supposed to hope never came. But that wasn’t the case; he longed to put his tactical skills into action. To be thrust into a dangerous situation and come out the other side justified and decorated.

  The plant was closer now, mostly dark except for the colored light of the solar storms overhead. Wilson could make out two men standing watch. Every few seconds they’d look around, then back to the tank.

  “Sloppy, nervous,” he told his men in a low whisper. “Amateurs.”

  They nodded understanding. He thought about running straight at them and demanding they throw their hands up. He couldn’t see the others, but chances were they’d run at the first sound of trouble. Wilson wanted to catch them all. This was a chance at a real-life training exercise. If by chance one of them attacked his men, he’d be forced to go live fire.

  He gave hand signals to his men, sending two around in a large semicircle to cut off the thieves’ escape. He waited until the time was right, then started crouch-walking towards the plant. He worked to keep his breathing calm. When he was close enough he stopped, waiting on the other man with him to move out about twenty yards to his left. He watched the two thieves standing guard. He was so close now…how could they not see him?

  He gathered his courage to spring the trap. Danger didn’t frighten him; it was failure to grab all the bandits, to let any escape, that bothered him.

  One last deep breath, and then…

  The night sky exploded in a burst of orange. Muzzle flashes lit up the night, the staccato rattle of high-velocity weapons louder than he remembered from the training range. Wilson raised his own weapon but couldn’t see a target. The guard to his left fired into the night, ruining whatever night vision he still had.

  “Perkins, stop shooting, you dumbass!” he yelled. “Our men are on the other side!”

  More rattles and dirt kicked up all around him. Again Perkins fired, emptying his entire magazine on full auto. A no-win decision awaited Wilson. He could go forward and close with the surprisingly well-armed assailants, or he could try to circle around and join his other two men to cut off the thieves’ escape. There was nothing to do from this side but catch his own men in some sort of crossfire.

  Wilson made his decision. “Let’s go!” he yelled and started to run at an angle past the physical plant. More dirt kicked up. Someone could see him even if he couldn’t see them. He heard a scream and whirled back to see Perkins thrashing in the grass. He started to go back, but he ran again, this time a sprint completely devoid of battlefield discipline.

  A puff of dirt kicked up in front of him and he panicked. Wilson hit the ground hard in a half-roll. Extra magazines he had in his vest pocket pushed in on the flexible armor, knocking his wind out for a moment. Scared, gasping for breath and furious, he yelled and pulled his trigger. His eyes were half-closed as the rounds reached out towards where he thought the men trying to kill him still stood. All he could really see was the outline of the fuel tank…his aim followed.

  A light like the sun blinded Wilson, orange and yellow followed by the white of quickly-bleached retinal pigments. A heat wave scorched his skin and took his breath. His eyes still hadn’t recovered to see a fiery mushroom cloud pushed up to the sky by hundreds of gallons of igniting fuel. He buried his face in the grass and dirt, trying for all the world to crawl underneath. He sobbed uncontrollably flashing back to that night in the Sandbox when his Humvee disintegrated in twisted metal and flesh. He was frozen. He forgot about Perkins, forgot about his other men, forgot about the thieves.

  ****

  Sergeant Red Morton watched in horror as two-dimensional black-and-white figures opened fire on something outside the view of the screen. Like an old TV show from his youth, he was mesmerized by the action. He saw one man drop, finger on the trigger and still firing his weapon. The flash went from parallel to straight up until the man and the gun finally landed on the ground.

  Suddenly the screen went blank in bright white, then black as the interior lights flickered, then flickered again and finally went black as the control room descended into darkness. Morton froze, unsure of what had happened and what to do next. A million thoughts flashed through his mind in the few seconds it took for the battery-operated emergency lights to kick on.

  LED bulbs above the doorway and along the hall floor cast enough light for Morton to see the faces of his guards—terrified and confused. There was no training for this. A lack of electricity was simply an impossible scenario, yet here he was, face-to-face with it. He started to head for the warden’s office, to find Lewis and figure out the next steps.

  He stopped suddenly…he was the man in charge. He had to make decisions now, every second counted.

  “All officers: Code One, assemble in the control room!” he shouted.
He grabbed the intercom to repeat the order. It was dead. He ran to the balcony overlooking the cafeteria. Between the moonlight, the solar storms and the faint glow of the emergency lights, he could see inmates milling around, some laughing, some just standing like zombies. The Syn should be kicking in by now, making most of them passive.

  He gathered himself and calmed his voice. “Attention, everyone,” he shouted over the noise of six hundred startled people. “Just relax, it’s a temporary glitch. We’ll have the lights back on in a second,” he lied again. Deception was getting too easy. “In the meantime, I need all guards to come up here and give me a hand getting a couple of things done.” He was praying that would give the ten Eels downstairs the chance to extricate themselves from the crowd. The tactical suits would stay charged for a while and give them the advantage. Still, he had no idea what would happen if the whole cafeteria plunged into chaos.

  His only relief was that most of the guards were in the armory, processing area, or storage level when the power was cut. His lockdown and suit up order arrived just in time to get most of them to relative safety before the generator failed. He watched the ten Eels form up and move to the exit door, manned on the other side by McCoy and three other fully-suited and charged guards. The door slid open, the ten hustled through, and the door slammed back shut in a blink.

  Relieved an order had finally gone right, he scrambled halfway down the stairs and stopped. The guards were assembling in the large open loading area just below. “I need a head count. COU leaders, gather your teams, I want names of the missing ASAP!”

  He stopped McCoy as he passed by to join his team. “I want you to go to the armory, find out how many weapons we have available. Rifles, shotguns, pistols…anything that can stop someone in their tracks.”

  McCoy clearly had questions but didn’t waste time asking. He simply nodded and headed in that direction.

 

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