by Toby Neal
“Whatever you want to call yourselves,” she waved her hand at him. “As long as you’re willing to do what it takes.”
Billy smiled at Maud, and nodded to Cash. “I’ll get on the horn.”
“I’m worried you’ll have a backlash from all of this.” Cash frowned at Billy and Jeb. “You have to protect yourselves.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Jeb’s smile was a thin blade. “We’re taking steps. Here’s what we know about the Great Nation America movement.” He swept the local map aside to reveal a large, detailed US map as Billy lifted his walkie-talkie from his belt and stepped out to the hall to call his “gang.”
Jeb brought up another piece of information. “Maud has kept up with the chatter on her shortwave radio.”
“That’s right.” Maud began to share the intel she’d gathered. “Great Nation America is publicly taking credit for planting the virus strategically throughout the US with the goal of ‘purging the land of the unpure.’ Whatever their intention originally, the Scorch Flu mutated quickly beyond their control, and now it’s turned back on the skinheads, too. Apparently a couple of very badass Texas Army commandos infiltrated his command center and took out Hillish.”
Cash bent over the map. “So where is Hillish’s compound? Where did this all get started?”
“It’s called The Center, and it’s located in the Texas plains.” Jeb indicated a pushpin stuck into the west corner of the huge state. “There are rumors that Scorch Flu is a bioweapon developed by the US, though Great Nation America claims they created it with God’s help.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Maud curled a lip. “You could scrape all their brains into a thimble and still come up half empty.”
Cash snorted a laugh, tracing the distance from Texas to their location in Grimesville. “Tell me what you know about Dwight Kane. His men were well-armed and had some training, not that it did them any good.”
“You tangled with ‘em?” Jeb asked.
“Kane left just three to deal with me.” Cash looked up at the town leader. “And three was nowhere near enough.”
Jeb’s Adam’s apple bobbed at the look on Cash’s face, but Maud clapped her hands. “I hope you left them out to rot!”
“I did. I’m getting Sunshine back and taking her to the Haven, my brother’s compound in Idaho, where she’ll be safe.” Possessive rage curled Cash’s hands into fists. “And if we nail a few dozen on the way to getting her back, it will only benefit the world.”
The thump of boots announced the arrival of the Grimesville peacekeepers. Cash straightened and turned to see about a dozen men and women, most of them middle-aged or older, entering the small space. The Scorch Flu took the healthy and young first, like Nando. The ache in Cash’s heart for the loss of his brother pulsed to life once again.
Dwight Kane and his ilk had killed Nando and millions of others, and were responsible for the downfall of an entire nation.
Cash must use his grief as fuel for the fight ahead.
The small assembled crowd stared at him. Jeb elbowed Cash in the small of his back, forcing him to step forward. He cleared his throat.
“I don’t know you folks well.” He took a moment to really look at the assembly, making eye contact with each one. “But I’m asking you to join me against a common foe: a group that has decided, against every standard of human decency, to unleash the unthinkable upon the world.”
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Cash was asking a lot of these people. They’d be putting their lives on the line, and it had to be for more than just his own selfish motivation of getting Sunshine and Tiny back. Cash paced, warming to his theme. “You’ve been hurt by Scorch Flu? Lost loved ones?”
“Yeah!” A chorus of different tones, women and men, low and high. Everyone had felt the Scorching.
“This is your chance to strike back, to hit these monsters where it hurts. They’ve been running rampant over this country since the Scorch Flu broke out, preying on the weak and the helpless. Are you weak and helpless?”
“No!” This time, a cry in one voice. The citizens hung on Cash’s words, drawing nearer. Powerful emotion united them, unleashed by his speech, fanning the fire in Cash’s own chest.
“You want to defend your homes, your town, and your families? This is your chance. We will have the element of surprise on our side. No one has banded together and given Great Nation America anything but tribute. You can start a resistance movement. We will be the first of many to rise and take this country back!”
“Yeah!”
Several hours later, the entire town was at work patrolling the perimeter, preparing for evacuation in case of retribution, and changing their position from defensive to offensive.
Cash’s attack team packed into several vehicles, bristling with every spare weapon. Cash climbed onto the running board of the F-250 loaded with dynamite and other armaments, and turned to the crowd of townspeople who’d gathered to see them off.
“You are the great nation of America!” His voice rang through the quiet town square. “You are neighbors, friends, family, of every color and creed and religion, united to take care of each other, your land and your homes. You will not be torn apart by hatred or fear! You come together to reject evil, and take back good. You are the great nation, America!”
A cheer rose at this reclaiming of the cult’s title. Cash raised a fist and the crowd mirrored his gesture. His eyes pricked at the community he felt among these strangers. He placed his palm over his heart as Maud began to sing, and other voices joined her in a ragged but heartfelt a cappella version of America, the Beautiful.
As the song came to a close the crowd broke into a fresh cheer. Cash got into the cab of the truck, slamming the door.
Jeb sat in the passenger seat.
“Jeb, you’re supposed to be overseeing the town!”
Jeb gave his gap-toothed grin. “I figure Captain America Cash needs me by his side. You gave that speech like you were born to lead, son. I wish we had politicians like you at the helm. We would never have gotten into this mess if we did.”
His chest tightened. Born to lead? Cash, the screw-up Luciano brother? Cash, who was easy come, easy go? Cash, who never made promises because he didn’t keep them?
He was becoming the man he was meant to be. Sunshine had freed him. He was better, bigger, and braver, all because of her.
“Let’s go get my girl and show these skinheads what real men are made of.” Cash put the truck in gear and led the convoy out of the town. “And when I bring her back, I’m not waiting another day to marry her.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jolene
The lace at the sleeves and collar of Jolene’s wedding dress abraded her skin. Was the dress getting tighter or was it just her imagination? Jolene swallowed the feeling of suffocation that choked her as Sally brushed her hair. It was ridiculous. There was nothing to brush.
“Don’t worry, it will grow back,” Sally soothed. “Such an honor to carry the mark on your head.”
As if Jolene cared about her hair! Except for how glad she was that it was finally long enough to cover the hideous scar that Sally seemed to admire. Jackson sat in a chair, his feet propped up on the bed, watching the two women. His eyes gleamed as they tracked Sally.
Pain radiated from Jolene’s chest.
Cash was gone.
That sweet, kind, beautiful man who’d saved her life and her soul, was dead. Her own brother had killed the man she loved. Her eyes found Jackson’s gun in the mirror, holstered on his belt as he cleaned his fingernails with a toothpick. She wanted that gun. She looked into the mirror at her own hopeless eyes. Trapped, controlled, captive.
Jolene didn’t want to be this person anymore: a prisoner of her brother, of this hateful group. Even more, she didn’t want to be a prisoner in her own mind. Through her escape, her amnesia, and Cash’s loving touch, Jolene had discovered her true identity. She was Sunshine.
She was light and fire and war
mth.
Her eyes drifted back to Jackson’s pistol. It called to her, offering a way out. The compound’s improved fortification made it impossible for her to escape alive.
Maybe she would find freedom only in death.
The door of the small bedroom opened and Dwight stepped in, a wide grin on his face. He looked more like their mother every day: the same strong nose, thin lips, and weak chin, and the same glint of hate in his eyes.
Sally stepped aside and Dwight came up behind Jolene, laying his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently and kissing the top of her head. Their eyes met in the mirror. “You look beautiful, sister. I’m very proud of you.”
“Please, Dwight, don’t do this. Just let me go.” The begging came out as a whisper. She didn’t expect him to acquiesce, but she had to try. Her gaze fell to his holstered sidearm.
Dwight kissed her head again. “You have a beautiful future. You will be the mother of the new race—the savior of us all.”
Had he gone crazy? Had he finally bought into Tanner Hillish’s religious zealotry? Or was this just more propaganda for the sake of the other cultists in the room?
Crazy talk. Nothing mattered anymore.
Still seated, she turned to Dwight and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his midsection. He stroked her back. “Don’t worry, sister. Hank will treat you well.”
Jolene’s hand ran along his belt, landing on his holster. She unsnapped the latch, and lifted Dwight’s pistol free, flinging herself away from him with all her might, knocking the chair she’d been sitting on into Dwight, preventing him from grabbing his weapon back. She raised the gun to her head and closed her eyes.
“No!” Dwight screamed.
“Like you care about me.” Her finger on the trigger, Jolene felt a thrill of freedom. She didn’t have to stay here!
“You can’t!” Dwight screamed, his voice high and unnatural. “You’re the cure!”
His words stilled Jolene’s finger. “What?” Her arm trembled.
“Please,” Dwight held his palms out towards her. “We injected you with the cure. The latest vaccine. You’re the host for it. If you kill yourself, you will kill millions.”
“You’re lying.” Her voice wavered as memories of being injected filtered through her mind.
It’s a vitamin shot, something to keep you safe.
Was he telling the truth now, or was this a ploy to keep her under his control?
“I swear.”
Her finger tightened on the trigger. “That means nothing. You’re a liar. You killed the man I love.” Her voice broke and tears burned her eyes.
Their turquoise eyes clashed. “Ask Jackson.” Dwight turned to his right-hand man. “Isn’t it true that she’s incubating the vaccine?”
Jackson still sat in the chair by the bed, but his feet were on the ground, his body coiled for action. “That’s right, Jolene, your blood is pure. That’s why we injected you with the cure. You’re the safest, best vessel.”
It made sense. Dammit! That would explain why Dwight went to such lengths to get her back.
“Lower the gun, please,” Dwight stepped toward her.
Jolene’s finger relaxed on the trigger, and Dwight snatched the weapon from her grasp.
Her arm dropped to her side as her body shook. She couldn’t kill herself, and sentence more people to death.
There was no escaping. Dwight had her right where he wanted her.
The torches’ flickering light cast shadows onto the crowd and the flower petals strewn along the aisle. Where had they found flower petals this late in the season? Dwight escorted Jolene toward Hank while a three-man band played the bridal march on banjo, guitar and fiddle. As they passed the smiling faces of Dwight’s soldiers and the women who served them, Jolene seemed to detach from her body, rising up to watch from above as her brother offered her to his soldier.
A man dressed in a robe, a pointed hood pulled over his head and a Bible in his hands, began the service as Jolene observed passively.
Was this really happening?
Her lips moved, agreeing to honor, obey, and trust Hank in all things.
She drifted higher, looking at the fence lining the perimeter, the razor wire, and the patrols of armed guards circling the compound.
There was no escape. She couldn’t even die now.
The ceremony ended and cheers rang out from the crowd. Hank’s lips crushed hers and his tongue invaded her mouth. The rough texture of his beard against her skin sucked Jolene back into her body for a brief moment. She closed her eyes, willing herself to float away again, refusing to remain present through any of it.
She witnessed the party from the air: Hank sucking on her neck, chewing on her ear, his hand squeezing her ass hard enough to penetrate the numbness she’d built around herself.
Even in the sky she felt his fingers.
He whispered “I like you so much, Jolene. I’ve thought about you for years.” He grabbed her hand and laid it on his crotch. His rigid shaft jumped under her palm, and Hank groaned.
Jolene wasn’t crying. She wasn’t fighting it. She was floating above it all, watching Hank treat her like she was an object, ignoring her humanity. Jolene ignored it, too.
Hank’s hand pushed up her skirt under the table and his fingers found her center, pressing against her. She stood up, but Hank pulled her onto his lap, whispering into her ear. “Ready to go home already, wife?”
“I have to use the restroom.” Jolene mumbled.
Hank called Sally over. The woman came running, smiling widely. “What a beautiful bride!” She took Jolene’s hand. “Come on, I’ll escort you to the bathroom.”
Jolene followed Sally, her mind settling into her body as they moved across the compound toward the ladies’ room.
Perspiration beaded Sally’s brow and wet the hair at the back of her neck. She’d celebrated Jolene’s union by dancing and drinking with her fellow cultists. They entered the bathroom and Jolene went into a stall, sitting numbly on the toilet, treasuring the moment alone.
The love of her life was dead.
And she carried the cure for Scorch Flu in her veins.
But that cure would never reach the people who needed it, if Dwight controlled her.
A memory sparkled like glass struck by sunlight: Cash had said his brother’s fiancée was working on creating a vaccine.
Jolene had to get to her, to Cash’s family at the Haven.
Her throat tightened at the thought of having to explain to the Lucianos, that clan of powerful people, that her own brother had killed Cash.
A sob escaped her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut. What would Cash do? He would expect her to be strong, to be brave, to be like Sunshine—life-giving.
“You’re so lucky.” Sally‘s envious comment broke Jolene’s train of thought.
A bubble of cynical laughter escaped Jolene’s chest. She covered her mouth to quiet her hysteria, but it didn’t work.
“Seriously!” Sally sounded angry. “I don’t get you, girl. Hank is handsome and sweet, and he can protect you, which is really the most important thing these days. You should be grateful. Hank adores you. I wish he was meant for me.” Her voice lowered. “I’m not even promised to anyone yet. Do you think your brother doesn’t think I’m pure enough?”
“I don’t know.” Jolene rested her face in her hands, wishing for numbness again, just enough to get her through the consummation of her marriage.
Hank, sweet?
As a boy he’d pulled Jolene’s hair and teased her. But, as a teacher, she knew some kids did that when they liked someone.
Jolene felt a tiny glimmer of hope. What if she could talk to Hank? Really talk to him? Maybe if she treated him like a real husband, spoke to him like a partner, she could explain her situation. Would he help her, or at least not hurt her?
She had to try.
Jolene pushed open the stall door, and Sally took her arm. “Such a lucky lady,” she murmured. Jolene flinched.
Now she just had to convince her husband to set her free.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cash
Raised ground around the valley where the Compound nestled provided Cash, Jeb and Billy with a vantage point to surveil the skinheads’ activities.
“Seems like some kind of celebration is going on.” Billy’s voice was gruff. His heavy flannel shirt bunched up beneath his arms as he rested on his belly, binoculars to his eyes.
“Let me see.” Cash held out his hand, and Billy passed him the binoculars. A cluster of ragtag mining buildings were set against a wall of stone that housed the mine’s entrances. At the center of this cluster an open-sided tent was strung with glowing lights. The festive feel eerily mimicked Grimesville’s centennial celebration.
All the chairs set up under the tent filled as the sun set.
Cash’s belly tightened and he froze, colder and more rigid than the stone he lay upon. Sunshine, dressed in a long white dress and escorted by her brother, walked down an aisle created between rows of chairs under the tent.
He’d recognize her full, shapely figure and shorn blonde head anywhere.
Her brother had picked out some “pure” shitkicking skinhead for her to marry, and wasted no time throwing them together.
Cash’s gut churned. Sunshine was going to be raped! His hands trembled so hard he could barely focus the binoculars on the tragic scene playing out before him.
He strained his eyes to see who stood at the end of the aisle and spotted a huge blond man watching Sunshine’s approach with a grin on his face. Cash’s blood chilled to think of his Sunshine, alone and helpless, given to this gorilla.
“Looks like a wedding.” Jeb observed. “They’ve all been drinking steadily since the party prep began; we should wait a few more hours until everyone’s good and sauced and make our move.”
Cash heard Jeb with the part of his mind still functioning objectively, and agreed; but the primal part of him witnessing his Sunshine being given to another rose up with the impulse to kill.