Bad Moon on the Rise (Soldiers of New Eden Book 3)

by T. L. Knighton

"My father raised me to be a fighter. He was Special Forces. Taught me to shoot, fight, anything he thought would help me survive after the nukes. Just about everything the Army taught him. I like a good fight, but I'd rather make sure I'm on the right side next time. Figured this was the best place to make sure it goes that way if I have to fight another war."

  With that, the Asian man turned and walked out the door.

  Jason walked out of the office himself. Eyes normally focused on the day to day tasks of just staying alive instead tracked his every move. When he looked at them, they cut back to whatever task should have had their attention, but not before he could see the pity in their eyes, their sorrow.

  As he reached the end of a building, a voice called out. "Sheriff, may I have a word?"

  Jason looked and saw the speaker was Norman Boutham. Norman was a relatively new in town, having shown up about a year before along with a young girl he described as his wife. Theresa Hartman was young, probably about 18, so legal. However, she wouldn't speak to anyone else and never left their home without Norman attached.

  "What can I do for you?" Jason asked.

  "I heard about Deputy Martinez."

  Jason nodded. "Yeah, it's a shame. Hector was a good man."

  "What happened?"

  "The Rangers are investigating now. When law enforcement's involved, they take jurisdiction."

  "Really? How could you allow that?"

  Jason shrugged. "It's not really my choice. It's the law, and I'm sworn to uphold it." It didn't mean he had to like it, however, so he had no intention of pretending he did.

  "I've just heard so many stories about you, I just figured-"

  He held up a hand to stop the other man. He smiled gently and said, "Yeah, I know what you heard. The truth is, I actually follow laws. I'll do anything I can within the law, but the whole 'rogue cop' thing was movie stuff."

  Boutham glared at him, his bottom lip seeming to quiver. "But you…you're…"

  Jason smiled gently again. "I know the stories about me, and some versions I've heard had me wondering if I even knew me. Things get blown out of proportion, okay?"

  "Doesn't that…can't that pose a risk?"

  He shrugged. "Maybe, but it also acts like a shield. If they figure it's too risky to try anything, they'll go somewhere else."

  Norman hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He turned and wandered off. As Jason watched his back disappear into the early morning crowd, he shook his head.

  ** ** **

  As Rick walked into the small house with its rough wooden walls he saw her standing in the kitchen, her blonde hair flowing down around her face. As the sound of the door, she turned and smiled at him. Despite the despair of the day, he couldn't help but feel better when he saw her.

  "Hey, handsome," she said.

  "Hey," he said, his voice conveying more of his emotion than he realized it would.

  She raised an eyebrow in question and said, "What's wrong?"

  Rick walked toward the table sitting in the middle of the room and pulled out a chair. He took a deep breath as he sat and said, "We found Hector Martinez dead this morning."

  Her eyes widened as she sat across from him. She took the hands he'd just rested on the table into her own. "God…how are you holding up."

  He nodded and said, "I'm okay. For now at least. I'm more worried about Dad."

  She nodded. "I can imagine."

  Rick gazed into her eyes. Beneath the deep blue was the spark of something, something he fell in love with. Katie Jenkins Calvin had been through hell before she and Rick got together. Some women had abusive boyfriends or husbands, which was a kind of hell as well, but nothing like what Katie had endured.

  She'd left home, feeling stifled in the small town. She wanted to see the world, such as it was, and left to do that. Unfortunately, she'd been taken by a couple of cannibals who decided she wasn't food, but a plaything. She'd endured it, and after Jason Calvin busted through the door and killed the two animals that kept her chained in the corner of an abandoned house, she pushed through.

  Some of what she dealt with still left a stigma with her. There were people who saw her as an abomination, not because she of what they did to her, but what they fed to her. Some nights, she cried herself to sleep if she let herself think about it. Not that she let that slow her down any.

  When the Somerton Army decided to raise a little hell, she'd seen the opportunity for payback and unleashed all her frustrations on them. That's when Rick had first seen it. A burning passion for what's right. Katie was beautiful and always had been. In that moment, she became everything Rick could ever hope for.

  "Your dad's going hunting, isn't he?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "Nope. We've got jurisdiction. We'll hand it over to the new investigator when they get here and see what they do."

  She rolled her eyes. "Let's hope the commander got his head out of his ass for a damn change then."

  He laughed. "I didn't want to tell Dad this, but I'm not holding my breath." Besides the constant problems of Rangers fighting one another, the outfit had a commander who seemed to know everything, while proving to his people that he didn't know anything.

  She nodded. "You hungry? I'll fix you some breakfast."

  "Not really, but I need to eat."

  "Alright," she said as she stood, "I'll get you something, then try and get something fixed to take to Maria."

  He nodded. "She's going to need it."

  Katie nodded.

  "Meanwhile, I get to try to keep the Rangers from killing each other before the new investigator gets here."

  Katie smiled. "Maybe this one will be sober most of the time.

  Rick chuckled. "Can't be as drunk as Rueben. Anyone else took in that much booze, they'd pickle their insides."

  She nodded. "Any ideas who it is?"

  He shook his head as he looked at her. "Not a clue. Above my pay grade, as Dad always says."

  "Has he ever explained what the hell a 'pay grade' is?"

  "He said it was different jobs having a 'grade' assigned, and each came with a set salary. I think he said it was something Granddad used to say, so he chalked it up to the military."

  "You don't talk about him much," she said.

  He shrugged and said, "He died when Dad was just a couple of years younger than I am now, so I never knew him."

  She stood and said, "Let me get that breakfast for you."

  He smiled.

  CHAPTER 2

  Tabby's Tavern may have had a corny sounding name, like something out of a cheap pulp novel, but that was the only thing corny about it. Tabitha Halsey put together one of nicest places Jason had ever been in, either before seeing a mushroom cloud over Columbus, Georgia, or since.

  A rich, dark wood bar carefully carved with Celtic knot work and adorned in polished brass met patrons as they first entered the pub. Handmade barstools of the same dark wood stood at attention along the bar, each topped with a cushion of deep, red leather.

  A dozen tables with white table cloths sat scattered around a polished oak dance floor. Along the wall, a similar oak floor stood a foot higher than the dance area, making a small stage for musicians. The place had become an instant hit when it opened. The fact that Tabitha managed to get her hands on desirable liquors was only an amazing bonus.

  Jason walked up to the bar, Tabitha smiling at him. "Sheriff," she said. "I figured I'd be seeing you today."

  "You heard, obviously," he said as he sat on a stool at the corner of the bar.

  "I'm a bartender in a small town. I hear just about everything," she said with a comforting smile as she placed a glass with a dark amber colored liquid in front of him. "On the house."

  "Thanks," Jason said as he took a drink. The liquor burned on its way down in a familiar but nearly forgotten way. "What is this?"

  "Jameson. I seem to recall you being partial to it."

  "Yeah, but…," he said, then remembered the almost forgotten taste. "This is the 12 year?"
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  Tabitha smiled. "Can't get anything past a cop," she said with a laugh.

  "How did you get this? I mean, it wasn't cheap before. Now?"

  She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the bar, and said, "I have my ways, Sheriff. I have my ways."

  Her face was just inches away from his, her breath bringing about a stirring within. Easy, boy. It's just her playing around, so settle down.

  "Well, I really need your 'ways' today," he finally forced out.

  "Don't go overboard, but I've got you tonight. I think you need it."

  Jason nodded his thanks, a pained smile crossing his lips. "Thanks."

  He sipped at the liquor, enjoying the burn as it made its way down his throat. From time to time, he caught himself watching Tabitha, her arms reminiscent of a fitness model from before the nukes and her long black hair flowing around her as she served her customers. The instant he realized what he was doing, he forced his attention back to his drink. He didn't think he was done mourning Jess, his wife, despite the two years. More than that, he'd lost one of his best friends this morning. Now wasn't the time to let his focus slip.

  Behind him, the sound of the front door opening was immediately followed by an obnoxious voice calling it, "Hell yeah, boys. Let's get this party started right."

  Jason rolled his eyes. Tabitha smiled at him, apparently having seen his gesture, then turn her attention back to the newly arrived customer, a large man with part of his belly sticking out beneath his dirty, smelly shirt. Behind him stood a half dozen other men, all equally dirty—probably from working in the fields—though they at least seemed embarrassed by their buddy's attitude. Most of them anyways.

  "What can I get you?" she asked, seeming to tense up.

  "Well, I'll take some of that ass, baby, but until you come to your senses, I'll take a beer."

  "Senses work just fine," she said, pulling the top off of a bottle of beer. The label was more primitive than what Jason used to drink back in the day, the name unfamiliar. Blast Brew.

  "New beer?" Jason asked, interrupting.

  "Yep," Tabitha responded cheerfully. "Guy just launched it up in Littleton."

  "You mind? I was talking to the lady," the big man growled.

  Jason looked back, a slight smirk on his face. "No, you weren't. You were being a dick. There's a difference."

  "Just who the hell do you think you are?" the big man said, standing up.

  His friend, standing a full head shorter, grabbed the big man by the arm. "That's the sheriff. Watch it."

  The big man turned and glared at his friend. "I don't give a shit. A sheriff can take a beatin' like anyone else."

  Jason felt his hand resting on the grip of his CZ-75B. He dropped it. There were times to shoot people, but an asshole in a bar probably wasn't one of those times.

  "I've already told you not to try and start crap in my place," Tabitha said, her eyes hinting at horrible things that would befall the big man were the bar not in the way. "I want you out of here, got me?"

  "I'll drink wherever I want to," the big man barked, his eyes locked on Jason.

  "You want him gone?" Jason asked, returning the other man's gaze.

  "Please," she said.

  The big man laughed. "What are you going to do, shrimp?"

  "Come on, Kyle. That's Jason Calvin. I know you heard about him."

  "Oh really? So you're the badass?"

  "Yep. You the dumbass?" Jason fired back, mentally hoping the big man didn't make any comments about the tightness in Jason's own shirt around his midsection.

  The fury in the other man's face intensified. "You little shit," he blurted out an instant before his meaty fist swung toward Jason's head.

  Jason ducked under the blow. Without conscious thought, his father's instructions regarding fair fights kicked in. Already low from ducking the blow, Jason's fist flashed in an upward arc, slamming into the other man's groin.

  The big man exhaled in a grunt, then dropped to his knees, his hand covering the wounded appendage. "You…that ain't fair," the big man stammered, his voice several octaves higher than previously.

  Jason stood upright and looked at the big man. "Something my daddy taught me. If you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck."

  Something behind him tickled his senses. Long years of survival taught him to listen.

  Jason spun, a leg extended, and swept another's legs out from under him. The man flailed as he fell, his head bounced off the wooden bar, knocking him out.

  He turned his attention to the two men's friend. "Get them out of here, and I don't want to see either of them in here again. Got it?"

  The friend nodded so quickly it looked as if his head might fly off, then picked the other man up by his armpits, helping him up to his feet, and slowly walked him out the door. Two more rushed forward to grab the unconscious man and carried him out.

  Jason turned to Tabitha. "Sorry about that," he said.

  She shook her head. "Don't be. Guy might be a customer, but he's a jerk. Honestly, I wasn't sure how much longer until I was going to have to beat his ass."

  He smiled. "Now that would have been worth the pay-per-view price. Not like when you took down Margaret Valentine thirty-four seconds into the first round. Thank God for the undercard."

  She cocked an eyebrow. "You saw that fight?"

  Jason nodded.

  "And you knew who I was," she said. No question, just a simple statement of fact.

  He shrugged and smiled. "I was a fan. Both of you and the UFC. Sue me."

  "I heard your wife learned from Darla Daughtry," she asked.

  Jason nodded, fighting back the sorrow that still threatened to overtake him at every turn. Instead, he sat back down on his barstool. "Yeah, Darla got caught down here after the blasts, so…"

  "A lot of people thought we hated each other," she said, her eyes seeming to look deep into the past.

  Jason laughed and said, "You both talked a lot of smack about one another. Can't imagine why we'd think that."

  She laughed. "True. The thing is, after we fought? We went out for drinks afterward. Had a great time."

  "Why does that not surprise me?"

  She shrugged. "What happened?"

  "To Darla? Cancer, best we could figure. She must have been a little too close to one of the blasts." Jason had buried a lot of people that way.

  "I hate that. Didn't realize she was down this way until a couple of years ago. By then, it was too late."

  Jason nodded.

  "Well," she announced, "a knight in shining armor deserves another drink."

  He smiled. "Can I take a rain check? I'm a single father, after all."

  She nodded. Jason wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. Was that disappointment he saw?

  "Another time," Tabby said with a smile.

  "Deal."

  ** ** **

  The teacher waited outside of the school. Jason's daughter Allison stood right beside her. Oh great, he thought. What now? He loved his daughter, but she was a nine year old terror to anyone who crossed her. Luckily, the people who crossed her tended to be jerks in general, and she was known for adjusting their attitudes.

  The teacher's eyes widened at seeing him, a signal meaning "we need to talk".

  Jason nodded and stepped forward. "Mrs. Willis," he said.

  "Sheriff Calvin. We…well, the whole class heard what happened. I wanted to let you know that Allison had a bit of an altercation earlier," she said.

  Jason nodded. "Did she hurt anyone?" he asked, long experience telling him that his daughter was fully capable of injuring any of her classmates…and much older kids.

  "Oh, well, some children were harassing the Martinez kids. She stepped in and ended the situation."

  "I understand. How long is she home this time around?"

  Mrs. Willis smiled. "We'll see her tomorrow morning."

  "Huh?" Jason asked.

  "We all liked Deputy Martinez. Maria asked if Allison could spend s
ome time over there. She thought it would help to keep the kids distracted."

  Jason nodded, but was still confused as hell. "Yeah, that'll be good. I'll take her over tomorrow afternoon."

  The teacher smiled. "Excellent. I'll let Maria know."

  "Thanks," he said, reaching out for his daughter. Allison took his hand. He bid his goodbye to the teacher and headed home.

  After they were out of ear shot, he looked down to his daughter. "So, what just happened?"

  Allison looked up and smiled. "Remember how the reverend says violence never solves nothing?"

  "Yeah," he said, worried about the direction this conversation was going.

  "Well, I showed Jonathan and Cody Baker that it does. Especially when they're picking on my friends."

  Jason smiled. "You know that's not how you're supposed to deal with that, right?"

  She shrugged. "I know, I'm supposed to tell the teacher."

  He nodded. "Exactly."

  "But I did, Daddy. She told them to stop, but he didn't. They just waited until she was gone to start back up again. Then I told them to stop. Cody called me a bad name, so I punched him."

  "And that was it?"

  She said nothing as they walked.

  "Allison? Was that it?"

  "No, sir," she admitted, then silence.

  "What else happened?"

  "Jonathan tried to grab me, so I kicked him in his…you know. Then Cody tried to hit me, so I hit him again. And again."

  Jason nodded. "So, am I going to get a visit later?"

  She shrugged. "They started it."

  He shook his head. Jess, I could really use your help right about now, he thought. "Baby, that's not how we deal with people, right?"

  She looked up at him, her blue eyes staring at him. "Now Daddy, everyone knows that's how you deal with people."

  He stopped and dropped to one knee. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her dead in the eye. "Baby, I know you hear stories about all that, but there's a lot more to it than that. I didn't hurt people just because they were mean to me or someone else. I hurt people who had hurt other people and were going to hurt even more. Understand?"

  The small blonde head bobbed up and down.