A Powerless World | Book 3 | Defend The Homestead

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A Powerless World | Book 3 | Defend The Homestead Page 18

by Hunt, Jack


  Hank stopped on the porch, and took a step back, bringing a cupped hand up above his eyes to block the glare of the sun. Was he hallucinating? Skye?

  A flood of memories hit him.

  His brother telling him he was having a girl, her birth, her first birthday, watching Ryland show her how to catch her first fish, teaching her to fire a rifle, watching her grow into a young woman. Her death had destroyed the family.

  Ruth came out of the cabin and joined him. “Good Lord,” she said. “How can that be?”

  “Hank. Ruth,” Colby said. “This is Alicia Scott. A friend of mine from L.A.”

  Ruth was the first to approach. She made her way down and got close, studying her face. “You look so much like her.” She glanced at Colby then took a step back as Hank came down to throw out his two cents.

  “If you are here to ask for help. Forget it. Your mother deserves everything that is coming to her.”

  “I expect she does,” he said. “I’m not proud of what she’s done or the choice she made to take Ryland’s life. And I don’t expect you to help because of Dan. That’s not why I’m here. For the longest time, I believed in the feud between us and your kin. I believed it was right. I believed it was just. That ended when Skye died. No amount of fighting can ever justify that. Regardless of what you think, I loved her. I didn’t see the last name.” He glanced at Alicia. “It was much more than that. More than the way she looked, more than what we had in common. She made me believe that it didn’t have to be this way. Us against you. You against us. We all live on this mountain. We all share in the same business. There is room for all of us. But if we don’t stand together now, there won’t be an us.”

  “Of course there will.”

  “The militia is only getting started. Do you honestly think they will be satisfied with running Eureka? Do you think they will stop there once they have gained the trust of the people? When their numbers have grown fifty times what they are now with volunteers, do you think they will leave you alive? If you believe that, you are a fool.”

  Hank’s nose scrunched up. His eyes narrowed. Insulted.

  “But I don’t believe you are a fool. You are a mirror of us. Smart. Violent. Passionate. You don’t back down, and you sure as hell won’t let someone push you out of these hills. Now we can’t do this alone but with you all — we have a fighting chance.” He paused. “So I’m not asking you to help Dan or help my mother, or even Paco. I’m asking you to help yourselves and allow us to help you all.”

  He had balls of steel coming onto their property. For all the faults of the Rikers, and all the misery they had caused, Colby hadn’t walked to the beat of his parents’ drum. For that, he respected him. There was something different to him. Right or wrong. For or against. He had a point. This wasn’t a matter of Dan’s survival. If they would do it once, they could do it again. They were stronger together but after the killing of his sons and brother, he wasn’t sure the damage could ever be repaired.

  “So?” Colby asked.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  One public execution would appease the outraged, three would win the hearts and minds of the community. Since the recent string of deaths throughout the county, fear had been on the lips of everyone. They were terrified of becoming a number in a FEMA camp and even more so of becoming a statistic of violence or starvation. With supplies being distributed, and bellies full, a quiet confidence in the militia had formed while leaving a bad taste in the mouths of the locals because of the sheriff’s lack of answers or solution to the attacks. The people had called upon Dan for justice, but their pleas had fallen upon deaf ears. But not with him.

  Oh no, where Dan had failed, Benjamin would deliver.

  Where Dan offered leniency, he would lead without mercy.

  For he knew that words meant little now, actions were superior.

  So he would brutally demonstrate justice before everyone.

  Of course, he hadn’t planned for it to work out this way. They had forced his hand, pushed him into a corner, and if he hadn’t acted fast, his men might have seen weakness. Now they saw only strength, a light at the end of the tunnel.

  No more playing second fiddle to the Humboldt County Sheriff’s Office.

  No more hiding in the shadows biding their time. This was their time.

  And he aimed to capitalize on it in one night.

  As the sun began to wane behind the mighty redwoods, Benjamin stood inside the museum of Fort Humboldt, enjoying a celebratory drink with Lieutenant Hale. Beyond the windows, he watched as a massive crowd filled out the courtyard. Fiery torches illuminated the perimeter as the community waited in anticipation. Earlier, after the events at the department, after they’d subdued every threat that opposed their takeover, he’d had volunteers go out into the streets to spread the word of the execution.

  “Do you think this will work?” Elijah asked.

  “Of course it will.”

  “And if they don’t show?”

  “Then we will go into their burrows and hunt them like foxes until every single one of them is dead.” Evans handed a small glass of port to Elijah and they stood behind the window, watching the locals.

  “And what if this backfires?” Elijah asked.

  He laughed. “You’ve been listening to too many stories about these hicks. They are not immortal. They bleed like all of us and tonight the crowd will witness that. I mean, can it get any better than this? A Native American who has taken the fall for our scalpings, a Riker who has dared to defy us, and a Strickland who has hidden his past. It seems almost too good to be true. I swear God just dumped it into my lap. In fact, some days I wonder if God is jealous of me.”

  Elijah looked at him then set his drink down without touching it. “Don’t think too highly of yourself, captain. It might be your undoing.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that we are risking a lot tonight. We could lose good men. I don’t like that. We’ve already lost more than I care to mention. Our numbers are down.”

  The captain slung his arm around his shoulder. “Elijah, relax. Look outside. Look at how many people are gathered. My friend, our numbers are up. Soon, we won’t be limited to fifty, we will have over a thousand at our beck and call. This is what we envisioned when we started the militia.”

  “I thought it was to help this country?”

  “It is, my friend. But we can’t do that alone. And do you think we can help the country by following a gutless weed like the sheriff?” He laughed. “C’mon. We have put in our time, we have served this county, now let it serve us.”

  Elijah shook his head, seemingly unconvinced. He was faltering. Benjamin couldn’t have that. Not from his second in command. “Why don’t we just put them in jail? Do this another time. Wouldn’t that serve us better?”

  “How would that help?”

  “By portraying us as just but merciful.”

  Evans snorted. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Elijah. The sheriff took that approach and look where it has gotten him. The people were about to storm the sheriff’s department. No. It’s too late. We cannot back down now. We must show strength. Besides, these people want justice. They demand it. They came to see a show and a show we’ll give them.”

  Elijah shook his head.

  “Don’t fail now, lieutenant. Are you good?”

  He didn’t immediately respond.

  “Elijah.”

  He nodded. “I’m with you.”

  “Good.” He downed his drink, set his glass on the counter, picked Elijah’s up, and did the same. “Then let’s begin.” He breathed in deeply, adjusted his fatigues, then ran his hands over his head and walked out like a king among men. As far as the people knew the execution was for the Native American alone and didn’t include Martha or Dan — it would be a surprise, the icing on the cake.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was like attending a concert, two thousand-plus faces spread out in every direction. Under the
cover of darkness, the Riker family blended in among the crowd, their faces hidden by hats and pandemic masks. There was no guarantee the plan would work or that the Stricklands would uphold their end of the agreement, but the alternative wasn’t much better.

  On the way in, Colby had noted the lack of militia.

  He figured there were roughly twenty, the other thirty had to be in town, on rooftops, blocking roads, or positioned elsewhere. Just as he anticipated.

  To avoid a confrontation, they’d approached by water and slipped into the tide of people unnoticed. He’d contemplated many ways of handling this matter. None of which were perfect. Waging an all-out assault would have been too dangerous for them and those gathered. Innocents would have been caught in the crossfire. Even if they got the upper hand, they would lose the people, and that was where the county’s strength lay. No, too many innocents had died. They had to be careful.

  It was also the reason he opted to walk among the people. A sudden gunshot from the militia would only turn the crowd on them. And right now they were doing this for the crowd. Without the people they were nothing.

  A hush fell over the crowd as the people parted and Captain Evans and Lieutenant Hale appeared, striding confidently towards a makeshift wooden stage that had been erected so that everyone could witness the execution.

  Colby scanned faces but his mother was nowhere to be seen.

  The captain turned to face the crowd. For a minute his eyes roamed. Was he searching for him? “Thank you all for coming,” Evans said, speaking clearly through a handheld megaphone so all could hear. “Bring them out,” he bellowed. A truck backed up and the crowd parted. Soldiers hopped out and came around to the rear and opened it. A moment later, Paco, his mother, and Dan were strong-armed out up onto the stage. Their wrists were bound, their ankles shackled like common criminals. A gasp escaped the crowd to the pleasure of the captain. His mother stumbled forward and fell, but was quickly brought back up again and made to continue. Her clothes were torn, her face bruised. All of them looked as if they had endured a beating.

  “Are they here yet?” Colby asked Dylan who stood nearby.

  Dylan turned to one of their cousins and he quickly disappeared through the crowd to find out. Within minutes he returned with a firm no. Colby didn’t like it. He’d seen the way Hank had initially responded. He hadn’t immediately agreed. Instead, he accused him of trying to manipulate them by showing up with someone that looked like Skye. He wasn’t far wrong. He knew going alone to the Strickland farm could have incited a fight but with Alicia by his side, the reaction was far different. It was one of shock. Taken aback by her similarity to Skye, they gave him a foot in the door, enough to talk to them. Fortunately, Ruth and Samuel had been the ones to change Hank’s mind.

  Still, they should have been here by now.

  Without them, this would go sideways.

  The plan relied on the very opposite of what the militia was expecting, which was an all-out war, an attack on Evans’ troops. He had to wonder if Evans wanted the people to witness that. It would have made it easier to drive home his point that the families were dangerous.

  Colby lowered his head as a militia soldier walked by and for a second stepped into the crowd, craning his head as if looking for someone. A second later, he pointed at something then walked out of view.

  Near to Captain Evans, his mother was forced back against a makeshift wall of wood. Her restraints behind her back were connected to a metal loop so she couldn’t run. There was no anxiety on her face. It was steely. Laser-focused as if she knew something they didn’t. This wasn’t a woman afraid of death. If given the chance for some final words, he expected she would opt to spit in the captain’s face, defiant to her last breath.

  “I know. I know what you’re thinking,” Evans addressed the crowd. “Why is your sheriff up here in restraints? I will tell you the truth because he won’t. No, he would rather hide behind lies and shield men like this,” he said, pointing to Paco. “A man who was involved in the scalping of the good people of this community. A man whose tribe entered Trinity County and Humboldt with the single purpose of stealing, killing, and destroying your families. But I heard you.” He pointed to his chest. “I heard your cries for justice, I saw you pleading your case for help and failing to get it. So I am here to give it to you. But not him. No. Dan Wilder would rather turn a blind eye.”

  “That’s a lie!” Dan shouted out. “Don’t listen to him.”

  “Oh, he would love nothing more than to have you not listen to me. But why is that? Huh? Maybe because we found out your sheriff’s family is the Stricklands.”

  He let the family name dangle. Knowing full well the animosity, fear, and disgust many had for Hank’s family. “Isn’t that right, Dan?”

  “You piece of shit!”

  He laughed. “See, he doesn’t even deny it.”

  “Don’t listen to him, he will…” One of the militia stepped forward and struck Dan with the butt of a gun, knocking him out cold.

  “Listen to me, good people. Your sheriff might lie to you but I won’t. When you were hungry, who brought you food and water?” He waited. “When you required medical supplies, who made sure your loved ones had them?” He paused again. “And when you needed protection and were scared of a home invasion, who captured the one responsible?”

  He allowed his words to sink in as he pointed to Paco.

  It was perfect manipulation. The militia had rolled out the red carpet and put on one hell of a performance. How could anyone argue with that? It wasn’t like the militia had harmed the community. They had done nothing but good in their eyes. People were fickle. It was the reason why so many supported those in power even if they didn’t like them. People only cared about themselves, their needs, their wants, their protection. As long as those were being met, they didn’t care who was in charge.

  “What about the woman?” someone yelled. “What is her crime?”

  “I’m glad you’ve asked.” He pointed at Martha. “Martha Riker. You all know her and you all know the reputation of her family. So it will come as no surprise to you to learn that this woman has covered up crimes and conspired against us. Against you! Her son murdered three of our soldiers in cold blood. That’s right. Three men who were attempting to bring to justice the man you see before you.” He took a deep breath, pacing the stage, working it like a preacher.

  Colby kept his head low.

  “We will always have your backs,” Evans said, spreading thick his lies.

  Most of the crowd looked on in wonder and awe. How could they not? It wasn’t like these were mere words. They had seen him deliver on his promises. He was a man of action. He had come through time and time again since the militia’s arrival.

  “Now I don’t take pleasure in seeing this happen but we need to send a clear message to all that would seek to murder, conspire and lie against us. Crimes against Eureka will not go unpunished. Your families deserve better. The city of Eureka deserves to be protected and that begins with tonight’s execution. But before we do it, so you know that we aren’t just taking the reins and dealing out punishment as we so fit, we ask you this, men and women of Eureka. Do you think these three people here,” he gestured to them, “should be fed three times a day with the little supplies we have? Should they be given the protection they have refused to give others?”

  Almost immediately the crowd responded with a resounding no.

  Colby had to admit, he had played this well.

  A community couldn’t be won over through threats of violence with a gun to their heads, but pretend to be an ally, pretend to be a victim like them and he would have them eating out of his hand.

  Few knew the Wiyot Tribe enough to understand what kind of people they were. And they cared little for his mother, a woman that was on the best of days shunned for her illicit family business. And Dan, well, he hadn’t helped himself. Had he been forthright at the start about his background, maybe he would have had supporters.

&n
bsp; “Execute them.”

  “We shouldn’t give them anything!”

  “They deserve death.”

  Random voices cried out from the crowd.

  “Very well. The people have spoken!” Evans said, grinning as he looked at the three. “Let it be agreed then that this execution tonight will mark a new era going forward in what we will allow. Tonight we will have justice!”

  The crowd roared again.

  Colby saw the shift, many people getting riled up.

  Some remained silent, too shocked by what the others were allowing.

  The fact was, it wasn’t blood they wanted, they wanted justice, safety, and most of all truth. But under this man, they would never have that.

  He glanced at his watch. “Dylan. Are they here?”

  “Not yet.”

  Colby looked back as a firing squad of militia stepped out in front of the three, getting ready to dish out old-time punishment. There was no more time to waste. He had arrived expecting violence, expecting to open fire on them, but doing that now wouldn’t serve them. It wouldn’t help his mother.

  “Take this.” He handed his brother his Glock.

  Dylan looked dumbfounded. “What? No. What are you doing?”

  “Playing a different card.”

  “No, Colby. Wait.”

  “There’s no time. We’ll have to do this another way. If it fails, then do whatever you need to.” Dylan nodded, getting on the radio. The others had been told from the get-go that if it all went south and he didn’t survive, to take the head off the snake. Without a captain, without a lieutenant, the rest would fall.

  He’d seen it before.

  That was the way most of these groups operated.

  Many disbanded when the spearhead was broken.

  Colby elbowed his way through to the front of the crowd, hurrying. He had to assume Hank had dropped the ball, pulled out at the last minute, and returned home. It must be why he wasn’t here now. He should have known better.

 

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