by Hunt, Jack
“Pretty much.”
She turned and batted him a few times around the head.
“You could have killed me, you fool!”
“Whoa, hold up, princess. I just saved your damn life.”
“Yeah because you were lucky.”
He chuckled but she wasn’t laughing. She didn’t look at him.
“Look, Maggie. I could see his feet. I had a rough idea of where he was. It was enough to take the shot. From the last view I got of him he was head and shoulders above you. I aimed high.”
“Oh, well now you put it that way.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Is the other one dead?”
“Yeah.” He frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She swallowed hard then pointed the gun at the man.
Jesse pressed down on the barrel. “It’s over, he’s dead.”
“I know but…” she trailed off still in shock. “I just want to know what it feels like to squeeze the trigger on someone.”
He scoffed. “Your time will come, Maggie, but believe me, it doesn’t get any easier and until it happens you don’t want to deal with the crap that comes with it. Come on, let’s get what we came for and get the hell out of here.”
Jesse gathered up the men’s two steel machetes and one pack of smokes before carting out what they had to the truck. Jesse opened the steel enclosure and filled it with as much as they could, then closed it up and piled the rest on top, tying it all together with elastic bungee cord hooks.
The Bronco rumbled as they made their way back home and Maggie replayed the final moment of the man’s life. She’d never been that close to someone when they’d died. She gazed down at her hands and noticed she had blood on them. Ever since the event had started she’d been thinking about what she was going to do when it came down to pulling the trigger on someone. Could she do it? She hoped so.
Chapter 3
Cole Tucker sat alone at a glass table inside Baxter Mountain Tavern. In front of him were eight plates of the finest food off the menu. Most of it had been consumed; some portions had been picked at. At that exact moment, Cole was tucking into a nice juicy Black Angus New York strip steak. He closed his eyes and savored every bite. Lying a few feet away on the ground were two dead state troopers. It didn’t faze him one bit. He stopped chewing to wipe his lips with a napkin and take a sip of red wine. He looked at the bottle and tossed it around in his hands. It was valued at over eighty dollars. Certainly not the kind of liquor he was used to consuming before the shit hit the fan.
Devin and Tyron sat at the bar knocking back beers and shooting the breeze while a nervous chef sat in a chair a few tables down waiting for his marching orders. They’d dragged him out of his house and brought him down to the tavern located not far from the main stretch.
“I’ve got to say, Pete, you outdid yourself this time. My preference is the steak but those pork chops — wow! What did you put on those?”
His lip quivered with fear. “Rosemary and garlic.”
“And what about the Sausage Trio?”
“Pheasant Cognac.”
He squinted at him and shook his knife. “Come on now, Pete, I got a hint of onion in there.”
“There were caramelized onions.”
He snorted. “I knew it.”
Tyron hopped over the bar and took several glasses and lined them up then opened a bottle of whiskey and began pouring it from high above letting it splash between the glasses as he filled them.
Devin turned on his stool eyeing Pete. “Where are the owners?”
Pete shrugged.
When they’d arrived three hours ago the place was locked and empty. In fact most of the stores in Keene were like that in the days after the power went out. At first Cole had been cautious; they’d seen power outages before with the longest lasting nine hours but nothing compared to this. Whatever had caused this had sent society into panic mode. They initially tried to get answers from neighbors and those still in town but everyone was in the same boat. They had no clue. And being as the town had less than a thousand people, options were limited on where they could go to find out information. When it came to public services, there was the town hall which dealt with tickets and small claims but that was the extent of it. Then there was the health center, a church, two banks, a post office, one school and a library. Beyond that were a couple of supermarkets but that was it. It was a shithole in the middle of nowhere and didn’t offer much in the way of resources. Most folks headed to Lake Placid or Saranac Lake if they needed anything.
It didn’t take long in those first five days for lawlessness to run rampant. Eventually when police didn’t show up, he figured they had their hands full, so he joined those who were looting. Of course they took things to the next level and executed a few who were making off with some good shit but in his book that was par for the course. This was all about survival of the fittest and if anyone was going to remain standing, it was him.
After breaking into the tavern that morning he didn’t want to go through all the hassle of whipping up food when he knew exactly where the chef lived. Dragging his ass out of bed had scared his wife and kids shitless but he promised no harm would come to him and he would have him back in one piece before the clock struck twelve.
And he meant it.
He’d known Pete for over twenty years. Like many living in Keene, Pete was born and raised there and had operated like any other law-abiding citizen until all hell broke loose.
“You worried about your family?” Cole asked.
Pete nodded.
“Well don’t — we’re gonna take good care of you Pete and make sure your family survive. Are you running low on supplies?”
He frowned, opened his mouth and then closed it.
“It’s okay, speak up. I’m not going to bite.” Cole pointed to the two dead officers on the ground. “I know that’s a little disconcerting but I did you and me a favor.”
Pete looked confused. Cole enjoyed educating people, it gave him a sense that he was doing his part, giving back and well, ensuring that he didn’t have to deal with dumb questions later.
“You see now, if I’d allowed them to take me in, you wouldn’t go home this evening with a whole stack of food, now would you?”
He shrugged slightly but looked as if Cole was asking a trick question.
Cole gestured to Devin. “Go gather a box of peaches, rice, potatoes and throw in a few bottles of wine and give it to our man here. He deserves it.”
Cole observed his reaction. There was a lot that he could gauge by a man’s reaction to kindness. He could tell if they were going to be a problem later or someone he could rely on. And right now for them to build what he had in mind he needed more people capable of seeing the bigger picture. His mind had already begun to think of the numerous ways they could benefit. Charging a toll on the roads, turning the town into a camp where they could bring in those of value like Pete and use them. It was all about careful manipulation. Give a little, take a lot. He’s used the same principle when drug dealing. He bought coke at rock-bottom pricing and turned around and charged a fortune, except before he did that he would hand out small baggies to get people hooked on it. They would appreciate his generosity and on occasion he would do it again.
As he returned to eating, a truck came barreling toward the tavern and stopped several yards from the wall. Sawyer hopped out the drivers side wearing a big grin. He made his way inside.
“Guys!” Sawyer said.
Devin turned on his stool. “What did you bring back?”
“Nothing for you,” Sawyer replied. “But we do have a truck full of goods.”
Cole noticed when Magnus got out he didn’t have the same expression on his face. Cole continued chewing and leaned back in his seat feeling overly full. Who said people needed to starve when government screwed up? He had no intentions of going hungry. In his eyes the future looked bright with no one governing his actions and no one setting the standard for how he should live. Magnu
s ambled in and eyed Cole. It was like someone had sucked out whatever energy was in him. He wasn’t like that when he left.
“Tyron, Devin, take Pete home.”
“But we haven’t eaten yet,” Tyron complained.
“Take a plate with you and do as you’re told.”
Tyron came around the bar and scooped up a couple of plates and gestured for Pete to follow them out.
“And remember, Pete. There is more where that came from. All I ask in return is you cook a meal or two every now and again. Sound good?”
He nodded and headed out.
Sawyer leaned across the bar and scooped up one of the glasses Tyron had poured and downed it. He hopped onto a stool and lit a cigarette, then blew out smoke. His eyes darted between Magnus and Cole.
“Magnus. Come take a seat,” Cole said, gesturing to a chair.
He strolled over and slipped in across from him.
“So? Did you find him?” he continued.
“I saw Damon, yeah. But Trent and Austin.” He dipped his head.
Cole leaned forward and grabbed a hand around the back of his head. “You can tell me.”
“They’re dead. Both of them were shot.”
“Suicide?”
He bristled. “No. Why would you think that?”
“Well Trent wasn’t that bright. Now was he?”
That set him off. “He was a good man.”
“Magnus, he fucked up numerous times. And now you find him dead and you’re surprised?”
He sat back in his seat and looked at Sawyer. “Throw us a glass.”
Sawyer jumped over the bar and grabbed up an empty glass and tossed it. Cole caught it and placed it in front of Magnus. He began filling. When he reached the top he continued to pour. The exquisite red wine spilled over and created a puddle.
“What are you doing?” Magnus asked.
Cole leaned back and filled his own glass. The alcohol was kicking in and making him feel relaxed and at ease.
“You see that,” he said pointing to the overfilled glass. “That’s now.” He then pointed to his own glass that was only half full. “That’s before all of this happened.”
Magnus shook his head while Cole lit a cigarette. “What the hell are you on about?”
“You don’t see it, do you, Magnus?” Cole asked.
“See what?”
“When you were in Lake Placid, what did you see?”
“People dead on the streets, neighbors patrolling, a lack of police and… fear,” he trailed off looking forlorn.
“That’s not what you saw.”
“I know what I fucking saw.” He leaned forward and scooped up the glass, wine spilling over, and chugged it down.
“It wasn’t fear. Its opportunity,” Cole said.
He could tell Magnus didn’t understand. He looked over at Sawyer who was smiling. He’d always been the quickest to catch on to what Cole meant. Cole leaned back and put his feet up and inhaled deeply the nicotine as he gazed out the large window at the road.
“Right now everyone is scared. Emergency services are barely hanging on by a thread. Some towns don’t even have any. People are lost. Desperate. And you know what that means?”
“We’re gonna die?” Magnus said, taking another swig of his wine.
“No. We’re gonna thrive, Magnus. It means they are in need of a shepherd. Someone to lead them, feed them and give them the false security blanket that the government once gave.” He breathed in deeply. “And we’re the ones that are going to do it.”
He scoffed. “Oh like we were going to take over the drug game and yet we only dealt in Keene because you were too damn chicken shit to branch out into Lake Placid?”
As Magnus turned to eye Sawyer and smirk, Cole lunged forward and grabbed him by the head and slammed his face into a plate of sesame encrusted tuna. Then with the other hand he pressed his Glock into the side of his temple.
“You listen to me. The reason we are still alive is because of me. The reason you aren’t rotting inside some hellhole is because of me. Show some damn respect. Don’t ever mistake patience for a lack of courage. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, I got it,” he said spitting tuna.
“What’s that?”
“I got it!” he yelled.
“Good.”
Cole released him and sat back eyeing him just in case he decided to lay down a few haymakers. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d ended up in a brawl with him. Their work prior to the lights going out had placed them in stressful situations and it had a way of bringing out the worst in them. He just wanted to make sure he knew his place. He tossed a napkin at him. “Now wipe that shit off your face.”
He downed what was left in his glass. “As I was saying before you rudely interrupted. The opportunity before us presents some challenges but as you can tell,” he cast his gaze at the two state troopers, “we are more than ready for what it brings. Now we start small with this town. We get twenty, thirty, fifty people onboard and it won’t be long before we’re running Essex County.”
“And the cops?” Sawyer said.
He closed his eyes. “Did I not just explain that?”
“Yeah but that’s here. State Police have a larger ground to cover but Lake Placid has local officers.”
“Sure. But so does Saranac Lake. We begin here, Sawyer, and once we have enough people on our side, it doesn’t matter how many there are.”
Sawyer nodded.
“And what about my cousins?” Magnus said still wiping his face.
“We’ll deal with it. You have my word.”
“When?”
He flashed him another look of death. Magnus raised his hands. “I’m just asking, man.”
“Soon. In the meantime we have work to do here.”
“People are on edge, Cole,” Sawyer said.
“So we give them a reason to relax.”
“They’re scared and — ” Magnus began to add.
“So we give them a reason to not be,” Cole cut him off.
“They’re hungry.”
He studied his face. “So we feed them.”
Their brows knit together. Uncertain. Doubtful even. It was to be expected, they were in new territory, but the way Cole saw it this was no different from dealing, except the drugs had changed. Now the drugs were safety, food, water, sleep, shelter and a few others.
“Where do we begin?”
“By giving them a taste. Small steps. We’ll start with a handful of people and each day increase it. Give it a few weeks, a month or two and we’ll have enough people with us to not only protect what we have built here but enough to take what others have built elsewhere.”
“I don’t know about that,” Magnus said, shaking his head. Cole narrowed his eyes. “I’m not disagreeing, I’m just saying it seems like a lot of work to earn people’s trust when we can just take what we need.”
“And what happens when others come? And they will. What then? There are five of us right now. It’s enough to survive for the short term but we need to think about the long term. Those lights aren’t coming back on. Those gas stations aren’t going to be refueled. Those grocery shelves aren’t going to be stocked. To take what we need, requires manpower. And nothing works better to hook people in than giving them a little something in return.” He glanced at both of them. “We share now so we can control later. That’s how society has always done it. Now it’s our turn.”
Magnus nodded. “And what about Damon?”
“You say you saw him?”
“With a group of people. He didn’t look like he had plans on returning here.”
Cole tapped the table with his fingers and rocked back in his seat. Why hadn’t he shown up here? His girl was here. His family was here. They were here. “Well I guess it’s time we had a little reunion.”
Chapter 4
“You knew them?” Elliot bellowed pointing an accusing finger at Damon. They were standing outside his home in the driveway. Behind him a
cold wind made the branches of an old oak sway under a gray sky. Damon was on one side of the Jeep while Elliot was on the other. He’d been unusually quiet on the journey back to the house. At first Elliot thought he was still pissed at Gary but then he’d blurted it out. Apparently, unbeknownst to them, Damon thought he knew who was behind the killing of his neighbors.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Elliot asked.
“I was going to but there never seemed to be a good time.”
“Bullshit,” Elliot shot back. “We were in that bunker for twelve days.”
“And I was a guest,” Damon said.
“Yeah, damn right you were.” He tossed a hand up. “I fed you and made sure you were protected.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“No, I didn’t.” He scoffed. “You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to get kicked out, did you?”
“Elliot, I only recognized one of them.”
“Which one?”
“Trent — the one who attacked Rayna.”
Elliot ran a hand over his face. He couldn’t believe he was telling him this. Since entering the shelter he hadn’t said a word. Would it have changed things? Maybe.
“Look, I don’t know if they’re behind the death of your neighbors but when Foster mentioned a sky blue 1979 Scout with a white stripe down the side. It got me thinking.”
“It got you thinking, did it?”
Rayna must have noticed how long it was taking them to enter and stepped out to see if everything was okay. Her eyes bounced between them. “Everything okay, Elliot?”
“Yeah, just go inside, I’ll only be a minute.”
She was hesitant, then nodded and went back in. Elliot walked around to the rear of the Jeep to unload a few supplies he had collected from an abandoned home on the east side. It was mostly plywood, aluminum fencing and a steel box of tools. He figured it could come in handy for when they started securing the property. He took a seat on the back bumper and tapped out a cigarette. Damon glanced at him. Usually he would have offered him one but in the foul mood he was in, and after what he’d just told him, he didn’t give him one.