People continued to file in and took places standing around the edges of the room.
“It stinks in here,” Haley complained.
Gwen smiled, ignoring the girl’s complaints.
“And it’s boring.” Haley alternated kicking her legs right leg and then left leg back and forth.
Gwen leaned down close to her. “Let’s play a game.”
“Really?” Haley squealed.
“Shhh,” Becky said, putting her finger to her lips.
“Come on, Beck, she didn’t mean it.”
Becky sighed, raising her eyebrows. “Indoor voices. Both of you.”
Gwen bent closer to Haley. “I want you to count the number of guns you see in the hall.”
Haley pouted, the fun of a game disappearing. “Counting? Ew.”
“Just try it out. You can start with mine,” Gwen said and pointed to her hip.
“Wow, Gwenna. I didn’t know girls could use those.”
Gwen pursed her lips and gave her niece a cool gaze. “Girls can use them just as good as the boys, but you should never touch a gun without an adult there to make sure it’s safe. But right now, look at all the adults and count how many have big guns and little guns.”
Haley nodded. “Okay, Gwenna. I’ll try.” She stood on her seat and studied the crowd.
The sheriff mean mugged Gwen from the stage. He had begrudgingly let Gwen keep her firearm when she had used it to kill the infected that had wandered upon them by the river. A shot over his shoulder into an infected head had changed his mind, but others weren’t as lucky.
Mayor Dobson stood up and walked over to the podium. He waited for a moment, mouthing words to people in the audience and smiling. He made short waves at a few people. It made Gwen want to vomit.
“Can everybody hear me?” he said loudly. He waited a moment for a confirmation. “No microphone tonight, so all you get is my real voice.”
“Can’t hear ya, George,” Brian DeVault shouted from the back.
Mayor Dobson walked out from behind the podium. He smiled again, spreading his hands wide. “I’m not sure you could hear me if I was right next to you.” The people laughed, and Brian smiled and nodded.
“How about now?”
Brian gave him a thumbs-up from the back and leaned back against the wall. “We’re good.”
Dobson clasped his hands together, shaking them a bit as he spoke. “Perfect. I want to start out by giving my condolences to the Newbold family. Sue, Gerald, and Katherine I am sorry for your loss. Red was a great member of our community and will be sorely missed. He died a local hero, fighting against the infected last night. Let’s bow our heads in a moment of silence. Let us not forget the Macintosh family. We must hold them in our prayers as well.”
Everyone dipped their heads, including Gwen. That idiot, Red, shouldn’t have froze when he did or he would be here today. They aren’t ready for what’s coming.
“I know these last few months haven’t been great. We’ve seen a lot of scary things going on out there. Most those things have happened far away and we’re blessed for that.” Ayes sounded out from throughout the audience.
“I won’t say we’ve been lucky, but we’ve stood tall and done a good job preparing for the winter months. Although we’ve had to cut down on production, we should have plenty and be able to plant again come spring. We might need to use some of the old methods, but we’ll grow as much as we can. I spoke with Elder Leroy down the river, and he will exchange teams of draft horses in exchange for protection and medical care.”
Sheriff Donnellson stood, hoisted his pants farther up, and joined Dobson. He hooked his thumbs through his belt. “I can rotate some men down there in groups of three or four every other day.”
The mayor nodded. “That should suffice. Dr. Miller, would you be willing to see some of their people on the house?”
“Yes, I will, Mayor,” the gray-haired glasses-wearing doctor said. Van Fogerty patted the thin doctor on the arm. The doctor gave him a smile.
“You all are such generous people, I truly feel like this community is special, but unfortunately our problems don’t end here.” Mayor Dobson walked back and forth on stage. “There’s an even graver threat lurking at the gates of our small town.” He thrust an arm out and pointed toward the door. “As we speak, a band of hooligans, ruffians, outlaws, and outsiders are attempting to gain access to our beautiful town.” He leaned closer to the crowd. “They are about as welcome as an outhouse breeze.”
People booed and yelled, “No!” Gwen’s heart beat hard in her chest as she knew she prepared for an uphill fight. The mayor glared right at her as if he dared her to open her mouth. “They bring with them the disease that plagues this great nation. They bring rape, theft, and murder. All they will do is take until there is nothing left, and then they will move on, leaving us stripped of our livelihood and dignity.”
Gwen clenched her fists and stood up. She couldn’t help but bite on the mayor’s bait. “That’s not true.” The room went dead silent. All heads turned in her direction. Even Gwen herself was startled by the force of her outburst. She pointed a finger at him. “And you know it.”
The mayor smiled at her and gestured in her direction with one of his hands. Then he clasped both hands behind his back. “Gwen Reynolds, everyone. It’s been awhile since she’s lived here in Hacklebarney, but our prodigal daughter has returned. And with her, those people.”
Gwen took a moment to smooth her clothes and pull down her shirt. She could feel all of their eyes on her. “I’m sure most of you know me. I went to school with the Thornburgs and the Geberts. I’ve filled sandbags with you in the big flood of ’96. I moved away a few years back, but you know me. I wouldn’t lie to you. Those people across the river are not criminals. Those are good people, down on their luck and in need of our help.”
A susurration swept through the people in the tiny hall. Her grandpa gave her a proud nod.
“Gwen’s not wrong,” the mayor said. “How many people did you bring with you?”
“One hundred and three with two infants.” And one in my belly.
Mayor Dobson whistled. “One hundred and three people she brought with her. One hundred and three hungry mouths. One hundred and three beds. One hundred and three people who need protection.”
“We can take care of ourselves,” Gwen started before she was cut off. Her voice sounded like a whine instead of the voice of someone stating a hard fact.
Mayor Dobson held up a hand. “I’m not finished.”
Gwen’s mouth clamped shut.
“Who’s going to feed these people? Who’s going to clothe these people when winter comes?”
People murmured to one another. Gwen could hear the concern in their voices.
“Sheriff, how many people live in Hacklebarney?”
The sheriff thumbed his mustache while he thought. “About one thousand, one hundred and sixty-three souls.”
The mayor nodded and pointed out at everyone. “We just added one hundred and three more. We just increased our population by almost ten percent in one night. We don’t know when we’ll find more fuel. We don’t know when we’ll get help. We don’t know anything, and now, we have to provide for a bunch of new people that we’re not even sure can contribute anything to our community.” He dropped his chin, letting his words soak in. “What they are is leeches.” People nodded their heads.
“Luckily for us, John has taken it upon himself to house these people. Isn’t that right, John?”
Her grandfather stood up next to Gwen. He took his hat off and held his ball cap in his hands, nervously rubbing the brim. His voice came out shaky and tired, and it cracked near the end. “I have agreed to take them in.”
“And to clothe, feed, and house them?”
John nodded. “I will. With some help hopefully.” Gwen knew her grandfather was a proud man. He wouldn’t say no now, even if he couldn’t do it.
“Mmm. John, that was not the agreement, but I will not
have them expelled. We’re not monsters.”
People murmured their agreement. “What about all the others? Not just the old and the young. There are hundreds of bikers along with men and women who can fight across the river. You’ll need them to help farm. You said it yourself, we have to farm the old ways and will need the extra help.”
“They don’t know farming,” B.B. said from across the room.
The mayor shook his head. “No, they don’t.”
“They could help us against,” she stopped herself.
“What can they help us against?” the mayor said. His eyes narrowed.
“There’s the infected.”
The mayor’s mouth tightened. He had her on the ropes. “The sheriff has that under control. What else?”
Gwen’s voice came out smaller than she would have liked. “A force of renegade United States military forces is hunting the group.”
The crowd in the town hall erupted into shouts and cries of dismay. It was hard to pick out who said what, but none of it was positive.
“The United States military!”
Gwen’s head spun in circles as she watched them all voice their disapproval.
Gerald shook his head repeatedly. “We can’t help them wretches.”
Sue Newbold threw her short arms in the air. “Fugitives! They’re fugitives!”
“There may be all kinds, but I’m not sure it takes all kinds.”
The mayor lifted his hands in the air. “People of Hacklebarney. Please quiet down.”
Gwen stood, shaking at their calls of traitor and criminal. She felt sick to her stomach as if every word were a blow to her soul.
“Now, Gwen, we know you have loved ones over there,” Dobson said. People gasped, the thought of loving one of those people disturbing. Dobson turned his head to the side, raising a hand toward them. “We should cut her some slack. Even good people get caught up with a rough crowd in times like this.” He nodded. “It’s okay. We forgive you for that.”
Gwen pointed behind her and out the door, her voice rising in anger. “Those people are not traitors. They are as red-blooded American as you and me. Colonel Jackson is the traitor.”
Dobson’s eyebrows rose on his face. “Now, now, Gwen. Nobody took you for a traitor, but listen to what you are asking me, no, what you are asking this community to do. You want us to harbor a massive group of people that the military is hunting. How could we do that? Many of us have served in the military and would never even remotely consider taking up arms against them.”
Grady McAllister cleared his throat. He stood on the wall, arms crossed, wearing his mechanic coveralls and his signature mellow-orange Allis Chalmers hat high up on his head. “We had a couple of birds in weeks ago. Military folk.”
“Birds?” Dobson said.
“Helicopters. A bunch of Special Forces soldiers and an Air Force colonel. Their chopper was banged up. Bunch of bullet holes in them. Looked they been fighting each other out there.” He nodded. “They looked like the good guys. Gave ’em fuel. Supposed they would have taken it if I hadn’t. I never would have thought I’d see the day when we’d fight each other, but Miss Gwen could be tellin’ the truth.”
Dobson’s brow furrowed. “That evidence is insubstantial at best. Anyone could have shot those choppers, including those people over there.” He pointed toward the doors.
“Meant no offense. Just my two cents.” Grady leaned back on the wall.
Gwen turned, pointing in the same direction. “Mayor, if you don’t let those people across, they will be slaughtered by a madman and his men on the banks of the Mississippi. Then when they are done, they will find a way across.” She shook her head, knowing she spoke the truth. “And believe me, they will find a way. If the mood strikes them, they will ravage this town.” She turned and stared at the people of Hacklebarney. She eyed Kenny and Jenny Hamlin then let her gaze fall on Nowlton and Millie Gebert, who gripped Roland’s shoulders. “If you don’t give them everything they want, they will murder the men.” She locked eyes with wrinkle-faced B.B. “They will abuse the women and burn this town to the ground. I’ve seen it in their last camp. They abuse their power and do whatever they want to the civilians, and the civilians have no choice but to let them.” Everyone’s eyes grew wide, including the mayor’s. His jaw dropped a bit, but he quickly composed himself.
“That is a tall tale, but as the leader of this community, I have to take such accusations seriously. Sheriff Donnellson, can we double our patrols on the bridge?”
The sheriff stuck his belly out. “I think I can manage to scrounge up a few more men.”
“There are some men from Sable Point who can help,” Gwen offered.
The mayor leaned over to the sheriff and they spoke in low tones for a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Gwen nodded. Getting nothing. Integration was key in winning the town’s trust and they resisted her every step of the way.
Mayor Dobson stepped back forward and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Gwen, you can take a seat.” Gwen did as he asked, feeling that somehow he had tricked her.
“We’ve discussed some really important things tonight about the future of Hacklebarney. I don’t take these things lightly. It would be easy for me to step in and just say this is how it’s going to be, but you elected me to represent you and not giving you a say in the future of this community is downright undemocratic. So let’s take a vote.”
“But we don’t have ballots,” Van said loudly.
The mayor waved him off. “We don’t have time for anything formal. The old-fashioned way. A raise of hands will do.”
The people of Hacklebarney nodded their heads in agreement. If they liked anything, they liked things that they were used to.
“I want you to think about what was said here tonight.” Dobson looked down and back up, ever the contemplating manipulator. “Those of you who want to allow the people from across the river entrance to our community, giving them refuge against the U.S. military, say aye and raise your hand high.”
Gwen found her hand shooting up. She nudged Becky, who rolled her eyes and raised her hand. Her grandparents did the same. Gwen glanced around the room and saw a few hands here and there.
“Aye,” Gwen said loud.
“You may put them down. And those who would like to keep our community secure and barricaded to the outsiders, say nay.”
Hands shot up all around Gwen and a multitude of voices cried, “Nay,” loud and clear.
Mayor Dobson clapped his hands together. “So there you have it. We maintain our current posture toward the outsiders and let them find their own place of refuge without us.”
Gwen was out of her seat and storming from the hall in seconds. She accosted the people as they walked out with not a care in the world. “They will die,” she yelled at them.
“Get outta here,” howled a man with a dip of his chin.
“Go home,” B.B. said with a comforting arm around Annie.
She stood out in the street staring at the people across the river and hugging herself. The people of Hacklebarney filed out and went to their respective farmsteads and homes.
Her grandfather walked up and put his arm around her.
“They just don’t understand,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“I know, honey. We’ll find a way. There’s always a way.”
STEELE
Banks of the Mississippi, IL
Clouds of dust filled the air like a thick fog as the convoy rolled down a single-lane dirt road. Through the billows of tossed-up dirt, lines of trees stood guard between them and the water. A narrow path was cut through the middle of the trees for telephone lines that sagged between poles. On the other side of the trees, the land sloped into the brown waters of the Mississippi. The chocolate water bubbled by, moving faster than it appeared, and across the rapid water was Gwen.
He had stood on the banks for over fifteen minutes before he left hoping that she saw him. There was
no way she would miss the dust from his retreating vehicles.
On the other side of the road, trees, and fields of unpicked withering brown corn lay trampled and unkept.
Steele rode with Tess in silence. She had been chilly since their disagreement about the pastor, a topic he did not want to rehash with the slight yet feisty woman.
“When was the last comms check with Ahmed and the Wolf Riders?” Steele asked her.
She didn’t look at him and instead picked at the flaking black steering wheel. “About an hour ago.”
Earlier that morning, Ahmed and his volunteers rolled out south with Macleod and his Wolf Riders. More and more, Steele felt exposed without his allies close by.
He ran a hand over his scalp. “After we get Kevin set up, let’s get him back on the horn along with Thunder. I hate being blind out here.”
Thunder pulled the rearguard over a mile behind and would take the brunt of any attack if Jackson’s forces caught up to them. Is it wise to put my most loyal scouts at the rear of the column? But who else can we trust?
Ahead, the road bent almost ninety degrees following the river. Steele pointed. “There. That’s where I want our first ambush.”
When they reached the tree-lined point, Tess pulled the small red pickup over to the side of the road. “Why don’t you have some of the pastor’s men to do it?” she asked. Her voice held a high level of irritation.
“Because you said it yourself: they can’t be trusted.”
She stared at him with her almost black eyes. “This is dangerous and I don’t like Sable taking all the risks.”
“I don’t like it either, but who else can I trust to do the job right?”
She adjusted her hand on the steering wheel, looking out at the trees. “I can’t stand to have us lose any more after Scott’s crew got chewed up in Pentwater and Lucas and Greg in Burr Oak. There are only so many of us.”
He let his chin drop to his chest. There had been so many more names on his list. He didn’t even know them all now. He started going down the list in his mind—Wheeler, Jarl, Andrea—each name adding to the weight of his failure to bring them all home. He finished with Max, Bengy, Scott, Mom. The last name always stung the most.
The Departing (The End Time Saga Book 4) Page 26