Ray edged toward the door. “All right, man. Good luck, and see you around. Gotta take care of biz, you know?”
Lucas eyed the nurse. “Can you feed her the meds? I need to have a chat with Ray here.”
Sylvia nodded. “Of course. I’ll get one down her one way or another.”
Ray backed toward the threshold, but Lucas was fast. He caught up with the younger man as he stepped into the hall.
“Dude, we had a deal…” Ray began, his protest indignant.
“Which I honored. But we need to discuss where you got the drugs.”
“What does it matter? I got them. Your friend’s going to live. That’s all you should care about.”
“I wish it was that simple. But it isn’t. Whoever has the drugs killed the doc or knows who did.”
“What do you care?”
Lucas’s words were so quiet they were barely audible. “I’m investigating the murder, Ray.”
Ray shook his head. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Not saying you did. But I need to know where you got the drugs.”
“I can’t roll on this guy.”
“Ray, he either killed the doc, or he’s dealing with the killer. You don’t get to hold out on me. Sorry.”
Ray backed away, and Lucas took a step toward him. “What would happen to you if I handed you over to the patrol?”
“We had a deal.”
“Tell me where you got the pills and I’ll leave you out of it. He’ll never know you told me.”
“Right. You just guessed who he was. That sounds believable.”
“If he’s dirty, more than one road will lead to him.” Lucas’s eyes bored into the younger man. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But you’re not walking until I know who gave them to you.”
“He can’t know I said anything. You have to swear.”
“You got it. Now quit wasting time.”
Ray looked around like a trapped animal and exhaled a long breath before meeting Lucas’s stare. “One of the Chinese. Everybody calls him Lee.” Ray swallowed hard. “He lives in town, over at the marina. But he’s like me. He drifts in and out. Border’s so porous it’s a joke.”
“What’s his story?”
Ray shrugged. “He gets stuff. Everybody does what they have to do to survive. But there’s no way he killed the doc for some pills.”
“I’ve seen people do worse for next to nothing.” Lucas growled. “I don’t want to hear that you gave him any warning. Understand?”
“Are you kidding? I’m not going to say a word. You think I want my throat slit?”
“What does this Lee look like?”
Ray frowned. “He’s frigging Chinese. He looks Asian. How do I know? About thirty, maybe younger. Medium height.” He smirked. “Black hair.”
“You going to see him tonight?”
Ray shook his head. “No way. I already paid him.”
Lucas nodded. “Might want to make yourself scarce for a few days.”
“I’ll plan on it.”
Lucas reached out and gripped Ray’s arm and squeezed until the younger man winced. “Not a word, Ray. Dead serious.”
Ray held up his hands placatingly. “I got that.”
Lucas released the young man and returned to the room. Sylvia was placing a fresh towel on Ruby’s forehead when he entered. “Did she take it?” he asked, approaching her.
“Like a champ.”
“Let’s hope the pills do the trick. Are you going to be here all night again?”
She nodded. “I’m staying down the hall. Part of the job.”
“I’ll probably hang out for a while.”
“I figured.”
“How do you know Ray?”
Her lips compressed into a moue. “You know the family. Remember Mary, who came with you and applied the salve? Ray’s her nephew.”
“That so? Don’t see much resemblance.”
“Mary’s daughter looks more like him than Mary.”
“Her daughter?”
“Rosemary. She helps out here sometimes. That’s how I know them. He used to live in town with his parents. But they passed away years ago, and I suppose he sees more opportunity with the squatters than in town, so he’s been living outside the wall now for a few months.”
“What’s his story?”
Sylvia studied her shoes. “Every family has a black sheep.”
“Got that right.”
She held up the soiled bandage. “I’m going to toss this and take a catnap. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing.”
Sylvia managed a small smile. “Let’s hope the drugs work. She’s not out of the woods by a long shot.”
Lucas eyed Ruby, and it was his turn to nod. “I know.”
Chapter 25
Alex and Joel trudged along the gloomy street that was the town’s main artery, the darkened husks of commercial buildings looming around them as they walked. If Alex felt any trepidation on the dark, deserted route, he gave no indication, and Joel felt the anxiety that had been burning in his gut melt away as they neared the checkpoint.
When they reached the guard post, four sentries nodded at them over their rifles. Barbed wire and a no-man’s land that stretched fifty yards separated the town from the tents, which glowed with the flickering light from torches and campfires, an infestation of fabric fireflies just beyond the gate.
“Kind of late to be heading into the swamp, isn’t it?” one of the men said to Alex.
“The law never sleeps,” Alex replied, his tone serious.
“One of that bunch done something can’t wait till morning?”
“Just be glad you’re on guard duty and not being asked to wade into the muck,” Alex said.
“Who’s your buddy?” another of the men asked.
“None of your business,” the deputy snapped. “Now are you going to open this or make me wait all night?” he demanded, motioning to the heavy gate that blocked the road.
“Just a question,” the guard fired back. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”
“We’re wasting time I don’t have,” Alex said. Joel averted his gaze, uncomfortable with the direction the encounter was going and reluctant to be any more memorable than he had to be. It would be just his luck that Lucas would question the guards at some point and they would mention seeing his associate sneaking out after dark.
“All right. Cool your jets. I’ll get the gate.”
The guard walked to where the latch was bolted shut and slid the bar to the side with a scrape of metal on metal. He rolled the gate toward him a few feet, creating a gap just wide enough for a man’s shoulders. Alex led Joel to the opening and the guard stood aside as they squeezed through, watching with obvious amusement as they negotiated the narrow space.
“What time you going to be back?” he asked, once they were through.
“When we’re finished,” Alex said. Joel regarded the deputy but couldn’t read his expression to see if he was serious or not, and so remained silent, letting Alex take the lead.
They crossed the barren area that served as a natural barrier between the second string of fence posts strung with barbed wire, and then they were amidst the tents, hushed voices all around them as Alex strode with authority along the bay road.
Joel’s eyes roamed their surroundings, and after a minute of walking in silence, he leaned into the deputy and whispered urgently, “You sure it’s safe to be out here?”
Alex laughed and patted his assault rifle. “I’m the law. They won’t mess with me. Besides, the General’s place is just up the road a ways. There’s nothing dangerous between the gate and there – these are the squatters who’ve been here the longest, and they know better than to cause me any trouble.”
Ten minutes later they found themselves in front of a structure as sad as any Joel had seen, a hodgepodge of cast-off building material and pallets that looked like they had been nailed together by monkeys. Torchl
ight illuminated the interior, and black smoke seeped like ink from cracks in the walls near what passed for the roof. Joel could make out the strumming of a guitar between peals of laughter and hoots from male voices.
“Does a fair amount of business every night of the week,” the deputy said, nudging Joel with his elbow. “Lighten up. There’s nothing to worry about. General’s got some of the best security outside of Portland.”
“Didn’t do your doctor any good, did it?” Joel reminded him.
“Nobody knows what happened,” Alex grumbled. “Come on. All this jawboning’s making me thirsty.”
Alex stepped onto the dirt porch and nodded to a pair of hard-looking men with pistols in their belts. He turned to Joel. “Normally they’d take our guns, but they know me.”
“You come here a lot?”
“Enough.”
The interior of the bar was as shabby as the ramshackle exterior, and its customers comprised the dregs of humanity, mostly squatters drinking rotgut home brew that could turn them blind. Alex approached a crate that served as a table near the bar and delivered a hard stare at the two men occupying it. Both looked away and stood with their drinks, leaving the crate and rickety camp chairs to the newcomers.
Joel took a seat as Alex signaled to one of the servers, holding up a pair of fingers and then waving his empty bottle. The man nodded and hurried to the wooden plank being used as a bar, pushing through the drinkers vying for the bartender’s attention. A guitar player in the far corner of the room, framed by torches, began another upbeat song, his voice carrying over the crowd’s banter. Several of the inebriates sang along, their enthusiasm far surpassing their ability to hold a tune.
The drinks arrived, two chipped glass tumblers half filled with amber moonshine, and Alex toasted Joel with a wink and tossed back half the drink in a single swallow. Joel did the same and sputtered as the alcohol burned his throat like napalm.
“That’ll put some lead in your pencil,” Alex said.
Joel coughed, tears in his eyes. Alex laughed and grinned at him. Joel caught his breath and exhaled noisily. “Wow. No kidding.”
“Yeah. They serve me the good stuff.” He glanced around at the women in the room and then turned back to Joel. “How long’s it been since you had a girl?”
“I…a while.”
“Anything you want, you can find at The General’s. Some of these skanks will do you for a couple of rounds. Just speak up if you want one of them. I can make it happen with the snap of my fingers. Same with drugs – meth or weed. It’s the wild west outside of town.”
Joel frowned in surprise. “Aren’t there any laws against that?”
“Oh, sure. With a bunch of tight asses like the council trying to control everything, you bet. But those rules stop at the gate. It’s one of the reasons the General’s place does so well. The righteous and holy can come here and indulge in whatever and get away with it.” He sneered and finished his drink. “Bunch of hypocrites.”
“But you work for them.”
“Beats digging ditches. And there are plenty of perks. Like tonight. They probably won’t even charge me for what we’re drinking. Goes with the territory.”
“Does your boss know?”
That drew another laugh. “Hayden’s got his head so far up his ass he can’t see. I don’t volunteer anything, and what happens outside of town stays that way.” He considered Joel for a long moment. “Do you tell Lucas everything?”
It was Joel’s turn to toss back the rest of his drink and slam the glass down on the crate. “Hell no.”
Alex held up two more fingers to the waiter and began singing along with the chorus of the song, a twinkle in his eye. Joel contrasted the easy-going good humor of most in the bar to the uptight townspeople he’d encountered and shook his head. Maybe it was they who were living in a prison of their own devising, and the walls weren’t so much keeping the tent people out as keeping the townspeople under the thumb of the council.
Joel swallowed a mouthful of acrid saliva and perused the collection of female company loitering around the bar. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing to trade some of his ammo for a little warmth and understanding. Something to think about. Life was brutal and short, and the booze made it easier to see why it might not be a bad idea at all. Maybe another drink or two and he’d decide to avail himself of the local talent. After all, he was with one of the town’s lawmen, and if Alex was saying it was okay, how could it not be?
“Make mine a double!” Joel said, the alcohol now coursing through his veins, and Alex interrupted his singing to shout an instruction to the server before returning to the song. Joel joined him, his head spinning pleasantly. His troubles from only an hour before now seemed a million miles away. Maybe a few more drinks and everything would come into better focus. With Lucas at the hospital, there was really no reason not to enjoy himself, especially the way he’d been treated – like some kind of idiot servant, not an equal, which he most assuredly was.
Joel pushed the resentment from his mind and ogled a blonde who’d caught his eye with the flash of a smile. She was pretty in spite of the grime on her face, and Joel settled back in his chair, content. He’d just need to take it easy, not go overboard. He could handle it. He was a different man than he had been years ago, when he’d fallen into a rut with drugs and allowed them to consume him. A few cocktails were nothing in the scheme of things. Just a way of softening life’s hard edges, nothing more.
The drinks arrived, and this time his first swallow didn’t burn nearly as badly. Alex grinned and held his glass aloft, and Joel matched him, both singing the final bars of the chorus like they were at a frat party, Joel, for the first time in forever, completely relaxed and happy to be alive.
Chapter 26
An owl’s plaintive call drifted through the trees as a harvest moon ascended into the night sky, silvering the water of the bay in the distance. A figure in weathered camo pants and a flak jacket followed a trail to the top of a hill, where an abandoned telecom relay station stood at the edge of a ravine in sharp relief against a stippling of stars. He carried an assault rifle in one hand and a small LED flashlight with a hand crank for power generation in the other.
At the steel door, the figure paused and fumbled with a key. After checking around the surrounding brush to ensure he was alone, he unlocked the well-oiled bolt and entered the pitch-black chamber, only activating the flashlight once the door was closed behind him. He crossed to the nearby wall and pulled a tarp from a steel desk, revealing a shortwave radio set connected to a portable inverter and a battery bank charged by several solar panels concealed out of sight below the rim that encircled the roof.
The room was barren other than the desk and a pair of steel chairs. He pulled one to the table and checked the power meter on the inverter – even with the perennial overcast, there was plenty of charge for what he intended. He reached next to the radio and lit a camping lantern with a lighter, and then powered on the transmitter, taking his time with the headset before fiddling with the gain. The radio had a custom crystal that matched one in an identical device thousands of miles away, ensuring that any communication would be free from eavesdropping ears – essential given the subject matter and the recipient of the report he was about to deliver.
He sat back and pressed the transmit key. His voice was evenly modulated and soft in the enclosed space.
“Mockingbird, this is Alpha Four. Do you read?”
A long pause. Nothing, and then a burr of static before an equally anonymous voice answered, “Mockingbird is live. What’s the latest?”
“There’s been a wrinkle. The vaccine arrived, and with it a problem.”
Another pause. “Describe.”
“A former Texas Ranger. Name of Lucas. The town has him investigating the doctor’s murder, as well as the attack. I shut down the radio with a fire, so they can’t communicate, but he’s digging deeper than I’d like.”
“Describe this man. Leave nothing out.”<
br />
The figure went through Lucas’s distinguishing features, relaying everything from the size of his horse to his choice of weapons. When he finished, the voice on the radio sounded subdued. “How are you set for power?”
“Good for at least a half hour. But there’s another wrinkle. It appears that the nuclear plant up the river has had some sort of malfunction and is irradiating the water. The town is unlikely to remain viable for much longer, and Portland will be Chernobyl soon.”
This time the pause stretched almost thirty seconds. “We’ve had reports from Portland. Your assessment is correct.”
“Does that impact the plan?”
“Not our part of it. We can’t control what we can’t control.” The voice hesitated. “Power down and touch base again in exactly sixty minutes. I need to consult about your visitor.”
“Will do. Switching off.”
“Roger.”
The figure stabbed the power button and the red lamp blinked out. He checked his watch and spun the bezel, positioning the glowing dot for fifty-eight minutes later. After another glance at the inverter display, he extinguished the lamp to conserve fuel and sat in darkness, allowing his eyes to adjust before cranking the flashlight handle. The light sprang to life, and he busied himself tidying up the area, scraping at the encroaching moss with his boots, killing time until he received instructions from his masters.
The figure was accustomed to long waits between transmissions and was unconcerned by the delay. No decision by his group was taken in haste, and he knew that while he sat, a hastily convened meeting was debating how to best proceed. It was entirely possible that he would be instructed to wait another hour, or two, and he would do so without complaint, his role in the unfolding drama a minor, if vital, one.
When he checked in again, he was pleasantly surprised to receive unambiguous direction without any further delay.
“We are familiar with this Lucas. He is a danger. Do whatever is necessary to neutralize him.”
“Any preference on how? Does it have to look like an accident?”
“Just terminate him. We believe he was instrumental in disrupting our plans elsewhere. He is not to be underestimated.” The voice went on for three minutes, issuing instructions for the figure to execute.
The Day After Never - Insurrection (Book 5) Page 13