A Powerless World | Book 3 | Defend The Homestead

by Hunt, Jack

  “No,” Jessie said for the first time. He’d always been one to run off, hide, do exactly as she said, but he was beyond that now.

  “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. I didn’t kill him.”

  “I put you in charge. They were your responsibility.”

  “Oh, screw you. Lincoln was a grown-ass man. He knew the dangers. I can’t watch them any more than you can. So go ahead, blame me, but in doing so blame yourself. You sent us.”

  She went to slap him a second time, but he grabbed her wrist. It was unheard of. No one did that in their family. “Don’t do that again,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Or what? Are you going to kill me, Jessie? Hmm?”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  She pulled her wrist free and charged off into the house without saying another word. Jessie remained on the ATV. He wanted to stay, he wanted to remain there to defy her but he couldn’t. He fired up the engine.

  Dylan lifted a hand. “Jessie. Come on, man.”

  He never said a word as he turned the ATV around and peeled off into the night, his mind circling between those final moments in Trinity County, and the look in his mother’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what was worse, losing Lincoln or losing his mother’s trust.

  Chapter Seven

  The rain fell heavy and steady that evening as Nina curled up under multiple warm blankets inside a queen bed. The room was dark barring a small hand-crank lantern in one corner. The home belonged to the Braithwaite family, locals to Eureka, friends of the Stricklands. They, like many others, had headed off to the FEMA camp south of the city but before leaving they’d offered their three-bedroom home to be used by the Stricklands if and when needed.

  When she got word of it, she snapped it up in a New York minute.

  With a baby on the way, she had wanted a space of her own, somewhere in the heart of Eureka where she knew cops were still patrolling. Somewhere relatively safe. Garberville was too small, too confined, and with county law enforcement spread thin, it made her feel unsafe. Of course, there were other options but they were also problems — the Stricklands weren’t without properties and any one of her cousins would have let her stay with them, but it was more than that. It was Jessie. It was the murders. It was her uncle’s overbearing ways. The constant breathing down her neck. It had all gotten under her skin. Hank had been by earlier that day to ask her to head up to the hills with the rest of them but she’d refused.

  Withdrawing all the family only meant trouble and she’d had her fill of it. She had a baby to think about, a future, and nothing, and no one was going to screw that up.

  Laying in the silence, she stared over at the revolver on the table, and the .22 rifle leaning in a corner of the room. With all the looting and home invasions, she knew the dangers of living alone but she hadn’t planned on being alone. Her conversation with Jessie was meant to bring them closer together. He was meant to be here by her side.

  He wasn’t and it hurt deeply.

  She thought he was better than that.

  So, because she didn’t want to live alone, her cousin Helen had opted to move in with her. That was until Hank showed up bellowing about running for the hills. Unlike her, Helen wasn’t one to stand up to him, and she sure as hell wouldn’t go against her family. She’d taken her things that morning, leaving her alone.

  And she felt it.

  The house creaked as the cold worked its way into the ocean-green wooden siding on the outside of the house. Like nails tapping on the ground, the rain beat out a rhythm on the tin roof. She’d close her eyes, drifting off only to hear a sound that would make her heart beat fast. Twice she’d reached for the revolver. Once she nearly shot a round through the door, thinking that someone was walking toward her bedroom.

  Hank called her stubborn. Told her that if she was his kid, he would have made sure she toed the line. He blamed her father but that was bullshit, she was old enough to live alone and old enough to make her own decisions.

  For years, she’d worked in her father’s business, selling power equipment to towns throughout northern California. She’d always paid her own way. No, what Hank didn’t like was that her father had walked the straight and narrow. He’d gotten sober. Five years inside changed a man. It had made him think very differently about the path his parents had chosen, the path that Hank was on.

  Nina ground her teeth.

  Hank had screwed all of that up the first chance he managed to get her father back on liquor. It was a vicious cycle. They should have never returned to Humboldt.

  A knock on the window and Nina whirled around with the revolver in hand. The curtains were drawn so she couldn’t see who was outside but that was definitely a knock.

  She froze, hand out, barrel facing the window.

  Another knock.

  “You better get out of here. I’ve got a weapon. I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Nina. It’s me. Jessie.”

  Nina frowned. “Jessie?”

  She pulled back the covers, picked up the lantern and crossed the room in her bare feet, and peered out. Sure enough, it was him. He looked like a drowned rat. Rain trickling down his skin. Shivering. She lifted the window. “What is it?”

  “Can I come in?”

  He looked distraught. Not his usual self.

  There was a moment of hesitation. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to open up that window of pain again. It had taken her almost a month to deal with his words.

  “Sure. Go around the front.”

  “What about Helen?”

  “She’s not here.”

  “Probably best no one sees me enter,” he said. He looked down the alley for a second then hoisted himself up and in through the window. She pulled him in, shaking her head. He was soaked to the bone, dripping water everywhere. His skin was cold to the touch, and he was shivering hard.

  “Stay here.” She lowered the window and headed out to get a couple of towels. She returned and tossed one at him and he ran it over his head. “Well, you better strip out of those clothes.” He stared back at her and she gestured with a hand for him to hurry up. “C’mon. You’ll freeze to death.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt, peeled it off, removed his pants and underpants, and wrapped one of the towels around his waist while he used the other to dry his body. As soon as he was done, she told him to get into bed to warm up. She stayed a short distance away, looking at him from the end of the bed where she perched her butt. “What’s happened? Why are you out in this?”

  Tears welled up in his eyes and he brought a hand to his face.

  In all the years she’d known him, she’d never seen him cry. It wasn’t his way. He put on this hard exterior and always did what was expected of him. Tears were a weakness to his family. “Hey, hey… what’s up?” she said, touching his hand.

  “Lincoln.” He could barely get the words out. “He’s gone.”

  He and Lincoln were like two peas in a pod. They had fought like cats and dogs over the years, but they’d never let an argument get between them. Nina shuffled in close and wrapped an arm around him and placed his head into her lap. He sobbed hard for the first time. It was so out of character. She figured it was more than losing his brother as his response to the death of his father, who he adored, was far less than this.

  For at least an hour she didn’t say anything. She just ran her fingers across his scalp.

  At some point, he fell asleep and she covered him with blankets and stood by the bedside looking at him. Everything in her wanted to be angry but she couldn’t. She loved him. She considered going into the other room to sleep in Helen’s bed but opted to climb in beside him.

  When morning came, she awoke to find Jessie gone.

  The blankets were pushed back, his clothes and boots removed from where she’d placed them. She lay there, a hollow feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Once again, she’d opened up to him and he’d used her. Why did she allow him to do that? Staring at the ceiling, she s
niffed a few times and heard what sounded like water boiling. Nina got out of bed and donned a bathrobe and tucked her feet into slippers before making her way down the corridor.

  In the kitchen, Jessie was pouring out water. Steam swirled up around his face. He glanced at her and smiled. “Oh, hey, I didn’t want to wake you. I hope you don’t mind. I was going to bring it to you but now that you’re up…” he said, crossing the room and handing her instant coffee with a spoon in it. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before turning to collect his. “Um. Nina. About last night.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

  His lip curled. “Thanks. I just… well, it’s been hard. I’m sorry for just showing up.”

  “It’s all right. I don’t mind.”

  She nursed the cup with both hands and took a seat at a round kitchen table. There were a few books stacked on it, old dog-eared novels she figured she’d get around to reading at some point. “How did it happen?”

  Over breakfast that morning he brought her up to speed on their trip into Trinity County. The attack. The bodies that had been scalped. His argument with his mother. When he was done, instead of waiting to hear what she thought of it all, he asked, “So where’s Helen?”

  “She headed up to the farm. Hank wants all the family there. Says it’s to protect them all and…”

  He nodded. “Sounds like my mother.”

  “How did you know I was here, Jessie?”

  He took a sip of his drink, looking off around the room and acting as if he wasn’t listening. “Hmm?”

  “How did you know I moved in here?”

  “You told me.”

  “No, I moved in a few days ago. We haven’t talked in almost a month.”

  “Huh.” His brow went up, a smile lingered.

  There was a pregnant pause.

  “Have you been following me?”

  He peered over his cup, trying not to look her in the eye.

  “I knew it. I knew that was you I saw. When?”

  He shrugged. “Once a day.”

  She smiled. Deep down she knew what he’d said outside Alby’s home wasn’t him speaking, it was his mother. It was what every Riker who had come before him would have said — that the Stricklands and Rikers wouldn’t ever be anything more than enemies. “Why?”

  “To make sure you were safe.”

  She placed a hand on him and he placed his other hand on top of hers.

  He quickly shifted the conversation.

  “So, have you decided which room you’ll use for the baby?”

  “She’ll stay in…”

  “She? It’s a girl?”

  “I’m not sure but that’s what a friend of mine says it will be. It’s too early to find out yet but she dangled a ring over my belly and said that’s what it’s going to be.”

  He laughed. “And you believe her?”

  “She hasn’t been wrong.”

  “Yet.”

  Nina judged him. She wasn’t sure how he would take hearing it was a girl. There was a chance it was a boy but her friend had always had this knack of determining the gender of a baby with a ring. If it moved back and forth it was a boy, if it went in a circle, a girl.

  “Well, if it is a girl, have you thought of a name?” he asked.

  “I’ve always liked Gemma.”

  “That’s a good name. Strong. Though I was thinking something like Mary Jane.”

  “What?”

  “You know, with your family business and mine dealing in weed.”

  “That’s a nickname for weed, Jessie.”

  “And a nice one at that.” He smiled broadly. “I’m kidding.” He laughed. “Gemma it is. Come on, show me this room. Maybe I can build our girl a crib. We could put her in with us.”

  “Us?”

  He stopped in the doorway to the corridor. “Well, that’s if you want me to stay.”

  She sauntered over and placed her arms around his waist. “You know I do.”

  She was about to plant a kiss on his lips when ATVs roared outside. Nina broke away from him and went to the window and looked out. “Shit. Go. Hide. It’s my cousins.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He moved to her side, and she pushed him back.

  “Jessie. If they catch you here, they’ll…”

  “Do nothing. My mother has spoken with them. They touch me and all hell will break loose. Besides, don’t you think it’s time we tell them?”

  She stared back in astonishment. This was a complete 180 for him. Only a month ago he wanted her to think about having an abortion and now he was ready to step up and take responsibility?

  “Jessie…”

  “They need to know. Eventually, you won’t be able to hide that bump, and then what will you say?”

  She nodded. “All right but let me handle this. Don’t go antagonizing them.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, and put some clothes on.”

  “They’re still wet. I put them in the bathroom.”

  “Well put something on.”

  Jessie collected the clothes from the bathroom and returned to the bedroom and shut the door. A moment later the storm door opened and Seth wandered in. “Hey Nina, you around?”

  She hurried down the corridor and around the corner into the kitchen which led to the main door. “Yeah, what do you want?”

  “Pops wanted me to bring you a few goodies. I think he’s trying to convince you to come up to the farm.”

  “I already told him.”

  He waved her off. “I know, I know. But if I didn’t tell you he’d be riding my ass for…” He stopped walking and his eyes drifted to the table to where empty plates and two cups of unfinished coffee were. A smile formed. “Ah… you got company. Anyone we know?”

  “Look, Seth. Tell Hank thank you for the supplies but I’ll be fine here.”

  “Who’s the lucky fella?”

  His eyes roamed the room and he made his way toward the corridor. Nina hurried over and got in front of him.

  “Would you mind?”

  “Oh, we don’t mind, do we, guys?”

  They were leaning up against the kitchen counter.

  Derek had picked up one of the cups and took a swig. “Still warm, Seth.”

  “Come on, guys, can you please just go?”

  “Nina. Now that’s not polite. At least give us a chance to greet…”

  The door opened up at the end of the corridor and Jessie wandered out. He had on his damp clothes from the previous day. His feet squelched inside his boots as he made his way down. “What the…? A Riker?” He flashed a look of disgust as Jessie made his way to him, and then wrapped an arm around Nina’s shoulders.

  “Oh, you didn’t hear? Nina must have forgotten. Yeah, we’re an item now.”

  “Like hell you are!” he said, stepping forward with a look of malice. “Get your hands off her.”

  Jessie tutted. “I would dial back that anger a notch, if I was you, Seth, unless of course, you want to break the agreement?” He ambled past him, feeling untouchable. Jessie scooped up his cup of coffee and took a swig. They looked outraged as he sauntered around the kitchen like he owned the place. “In fact, you might be seeing a helluva lot more of me because, well, it looks like I might be joining the family.”

  Seth didn’t take his eyes off him for even a second. “What’s he talking about, Nina?”

  “Do you want to tell him or should I?”

  Nina felt beyond uncomfortable, standing there, their disapproving eyes boring into her. She was beginning to understand Jessie’s reluctance to come forward with the news of her pregnancy. “I’m pregnant… with his child.”

  Their jaws dropped and they diverted their gaze to Jessie, who was sitting in a seat, a smile on his face, sipping coffee.

  Chapter Eight

  Eighteen family homes had been hit on one night in the surrounding communities of Humboldt County. The MO was the same each time. Parents and children were shot and scalped.
Some bodies were hung from the rafters. When he got the call, Dan rushed to the city of Trinidad to see it for himself. After the report of an attack in the south, and a mass of vicious attacks throughout Trinity, it seemed only plausible that whoever was doing this would extend their reign of terror to include their county.

  Steve Johnson gave him the update on the way as the military truck barreled down the highway. They’d managed to obtain one from Captain Evans. “There are six families dead in Willow Creek, another two in Orick, three in Trinidad, five more in McKinleyville, and two in Benbow. They’re getting closer, sheriff. Evans is right, we need to get people into Eureka and block off all entries.”

  He nodded. “And what do you suggest?”

  “They either move into the unused homes in Eureka or move on to the FEMA camps.”

  “They won’t be pushed out of their homes, Johnson.”

  “No, but they will leave when they know they won’t be getting any further supplies from us. We tell them that only those in Eureka will be allocated goods. That’s the incentive. That’s fair.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  “Call it what you will, sheriff. We can’t feed them all. A month into this, even with the militia, we don’t have enough manpower to cover this county and even if we did, without transportation for all the officers and communication, we can’t respond fast enough. But if we bring in as many as we can into Eureka, we might stand a chance of keeping the wolves at bay.”

  Eureka was the biggest city in Humboldt. Over twenty-six thousand people before the event. In the first few weeks, many left to seek out safety in towns and cities where other families were. After that, about two-thirds of the remaining population in Eureka exited to head to the FEMA camps, leaving around eight thousand people, and that was just a rough guess. Most didn’t show up at city hall meetings but it was confirmed by others.

  “Here we are,” Johnson said.

  Like Eureka, McKinleyville was on the water, roughly five miles north of Arcata. They arrived at a home that had been cordoned off. There were five officers on the scene already, keeping out curious neighbors who were asking questions.