A Powerless World | Book 3 | Defend The Homestead

by Hunt, Jack

  “STOP!” Colby bellowed, arm raised.

  Those around him looked on, confused.

  He had to believe they wouldn’t shoot him outright. A stray bullet shot into the crowd would cause pandemonium. It could hit an innocent. A death without cause. Love or hate them, the people of Humboldt wouldn’t live with that. They would turn on the militia and after all he’d gone through, Evans wouldn’t risk that.

  As he broke through the crowd, militia pounced. They brought him to the ground and began a pat-down. He was unarmed. The people would see it. For this to work he had to be. It was a risky move but he knew he would be frisked.

  “Don’t do this, captain. This is not the way,” he said, raising his voice so those at the front of the crowd could hear.

  “Colby Riker?” the captain said, quickly stepping off the platform and making his way over with a smug grin spreading. “It can’t be.” He scanned the crowd as if expecting to see others. “I figured you’d attack. I was expecting violence.”

  “These people deserve a fair trial, not an execution.”

  “The community will decide that.”

  “My mother has done nothing wrong. I was the one responsible for the death of your men, not her.”

  Strangely, he heard a few yeses from the crowd. Not all of them were on the same page as the militia. That’s why they’d asked what his mother’s crime was. They wanted to be sure. They were the jury, and like any good jury, they wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if they knew they’d punished an innocent.

  Evans chuckled. “Brave. I like that.” He looked back at the three. “Oh, I get it now. You want a front seat?” He snorted. “Well, I can give you that.”

  Evans leaned forward and whispered into Colby’s ear. “Tell me, seriously, did you really think showing up here would change anything?” He chuckled. “And to think, you didn’t even try to attack.” He laughed. “I heard you Rikers were tough sons of bitches! I’m disappointed.”

  Evans turned to the crowd, lifting the megaphone to his lips.

  “This man before us is Colby Riker. The one responsible for the death of three of my men. But praise the Lord, he has seen the error of his ways and turned himself in for his crimes. Miracles truly do happen.”

  He was pandering to the religious.

  Murmurs spread. Heads turned. Were they waiting for his response?

  “The only crime I have committed is not killing you sooner.”

  He could have shouted that he wasn’t at fault but Dan’s words had little effect when he’d done so. Instead, Colby was killing time. Trying to draw out the execution in the vain hope that maybe, just maybe, Hank was out there, watching, waiting to see Colby demonstrate a willingness to sacrifice himself for a Strickland.

  Soldiers kept his arms behind his back, pushing his head forward. “Don’t I get some last words?”

  The captain turned, looking astonished. “What?”

  “Last words. Don’t I get them?”

  “Of course. What do you want to say?”

  “Let me speak to the people.”

  He whispered into his ear again. “You already have, they’re not listening.”

  “Evans, you know as well as I do that some of those people will be wondering if you are just making this all up. Lying to forward your cause.” Evans sneered, contemplating it. Colby continued, “It would go a long way if they heard it from me.”

  He chuckled. “Too late.”

  “They deserve to know the truth.”

  “Yes. Yes, they do. And I have told it.”

  With that, he gestured for his men to take him up to join the others. He was placed beside his mother. His eyes scanned the faces in the crowd, searching for the Stricklands. Where are you?

  His mother immediately tore into him. “Colby, what the hell are you doing here? I told you to go home. You had a chance. God, you never do what you are told.”

  “Yeah, and maybe for once that will work in our favor,” he replied.

  “Favor? What are you talking about? Look at us. We’re about to…”

  He was listening to her rant as a soldier took out zip ties to secure his wrists. At the same time, his eyes ticked from left to right out across the outside of the perimeter.

  Come on. Where are you?

  Then he saw it.

  It caught his eye. Movement. Sudden.

  It happened fast.

  One by one militia soldiers dropped. Quietly. Like an invisible wave rolling over each one. No gunfire. No cries. So no one turned. All he saw were startled faces, their mouths turning into an O, their eyes widening, then they vanished out of view. Down they went. Below the crowd. Out of sight.

  “Okay, let’s get this done,” the captain said, waving for his three guys to get into position. “I’ve grown tired of these people.” The lieutenant, standing by Evans, offered Colby a wry smile.

  As the zip ties went over his wrists, a familiar face appeared in the crowd, it was the movement he spotted, fast, heading forward. Alicia. But she wasn’t alone. Spreading like wildfire among the locals, it wasn’t the Stricklands, nor was it his family, it was hundreds of armed Native Americans.

  He wasn’t the only one who witnessed it. As the soldier finished placing the zip ties on his wrists, he lifted his eyes and saw the threat.

  Captain Evans was oblivious. He was so focused on the four of them and bellowing over that megaphone that he couldn’t hear or see what was happening — better put, what had happened.

  He’d made a grave error of judgment.

  In his rush to make a grand spectacle and pander to the masses, he had created an environment that was too large for fifty men to control. Inviting too many out to witness their deaths had created a problem for him and an opportunity for others. Native Americans were able to move seemingly unnoticed, able to take out his twenty men without raising an alarm.

  A smile formed on Colby’s face and the captain caught it.

  “What are you smiling at?” He turned to his guys who were readying their rifles. “Wipe that smile off his face now. Prepare to fire!”

  Evans’ eyes were locked on Colby, waiting, just waiting to see him drop.

  He didn’t but Evans’ men did. When none of them fired, Evans turned to bark at his men only to find them on the ground, dead, stabbed in the back of the skull. A slew of Native Americans came out, rifles aimed, among them Dakota.

  The expression on Evans was priceless.

  “But. How? No. This… can’t be. I…”

  He turned, backed up, only to bump into another member of a tribe.

  Everywhere they turned was another one. They were surrounded.

  There was nowhere to go. Evans’s hand reached for his gun but he stopped short when he felt a blade pressed to the side of his throat.

  Alicia hurried up onto the platform and began slicing the restraints off each of them.

  Kane bounded around his legs as he made his way down.

  Colby tossed the restraints on the ground.

  “What took you so long?” Colby asked in jest as he rubbed his wrists, his eyes fixed on Evans.

  “Ah you know, the roads are clogged with traffic,” Dakota said, in his usual sarcastic way. He watched Paco step down and embrace a few of his people.

  “The tribe has grown.”

  “Oh, this isn’t all of us.”

  “So Elsu managed to convince the elders?”

  “No.” He nudged his chin toward Alicia. “She did.”

  Alicia was still on the platform, slicing the zip ties off Dan.

  Colby nodded, his eyes drifting to the fallen soldiers. Some might have said the tribes had shown violence, drifted from their peaceful ways, but that wasn’t it at all. They hadn’t fired one shot. They could have but innocent people would have been caught up in the middle of it. This was as much a message to the people as it was to the militia.

  “And the other soldiers?”

  “Gone.”

  “The Stricklands?”

 
“We didn’t see them.”

  Colby snorted. Just as expected.

  Some feuds would always remain. Not everyone would change.

  He nudged his chin toward the captain and lieutenant.

  “And what about them?”

  “They’ll go with us. To make atonement for the one they killed.”

  Dakota and Colby approached the captain who looked beside himself with fear. Gone was the hard exterior that came with being surrounded by yes-men. Colby could only imagine what was going through his mind. “Colby. Come on now. We were just doing what you or anyone would have. We’ll leave. We won’t come back.”

  Colby got close to his face. “No, you won’t.”

  He didn’t need to spell it out for them. Both of them knew what that meant but before they were dragged away by the tribes to suffer a death worse than he could imagine, Colby placed a hand on Dakota. “Wait a moment. He has one thing left to do.” Colby picked up the megaphone. “Like I told you. The people deserve to know the truth. Tell them the truth and I will tell the tribes to go easy on you.”

  His eyes bulged with fear.

  Evans swallowed hard.

  Colby brought the megaphone up to his lips.

  He cleared his throat and uttered his final words to the crowd.

  Epilogue

  Eureka

  Two Weeks Later

  Newly elected Sheriff Steve Johnson opened the door on the two-story house with all the enthusiasm of a real estate agent. Kane was the first in, bounding down the hallway into the kitchen where he began sniffing the tile flooring. The abode was modern, upscale, one of the nicest homes to be found in the neighborhood of Green Park.

  “Four bedrooms, a sunroom at the rear, solar panels on the roof for off-the-grid living, and all within a hop, skip, and jump of the department.”

  He marched into the living room and pulled wide the drapes to let the bright morning sunshine in. He opened two windows. A light breeze blew in. Johnson beamed with delight and had every reason to — after the events that unfolded at Fort Humboldt, Dan Wilder stepped down from his position as sheriff. He felt that his ties with the Stricklands and his lack of transparency had damaged whatever trust he had with the community. He’d offered to continue to help as and where he could, but only as a volunteer. This of course had opened up a position that needed to be filled and one that Johnson was more than capable of tackling.

  “So what do you think? If you want it, it’s yours,” Johnson said.

  Upon learning about Colby’s background in law enforcement and hearing what he’d done to try and stop the militia, he felt he would make a good addition to the department and had offered him a position. Colby had turned it down, wishing to remain neutral, but that didn’t stop Johnson from trying to persuade him.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “So does that mean yes?”

  Colby smiled. “I’ll think about it.”

  Johnson nodded. “All right. Well, if you decide to take it, here’s the keys,” he said, dropping them into his hand, like a car salesman. He was trying too hard to convince him. It wouldn’t work. “If not, hold on to them as I’m not done trying to convince you,” he said with a chuckle. Colby shook his hand and thanked him before he exited, leaving him and Alicia alone.

  “It’s a nice place,” she said.

  “That it is.”

  “Certainly beats living in the hills.”

  She sank into one of the sofas, stretching her arms back on either side of her. The home had belonged to a police officer who had been with the department for several years before she opted to leave for FEMA. She’d told Johnson that they could use it. Now he was using it as a bargaining chip, along with twenty-four other homes that he wanted to place new deputies in. “Do you want to stay?” he asked.

  Alicia frowned. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Just figured after all that’s happened, what you’ve learned about my family, my past, and Skye, that you might have your doubts.”

  “About us?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Us? Is there an us?”

  She got up and walked over to him and stood uncomfortably close, placing a hand on his arm.

  “That depends. What do you want?”

  A smile lurked at the corner of her mouth. God, she was beautiful.

  While he hadn’t made a move on her, choosing to respect her space, he would have been lying to say that he didn’t have strong feelings. Had he brought her to Humboldt because of her similarity to Skye? Maybe. He liked to think it went beyond that. She was her own person. Unique. Special in her own way.

  He glanced off to the hallway as Kane came in and looked up at him, tail wagging. He slalomed between them, rubbing his head against their legs.

  “Did you teach him that?”

  She smiled.

  “Well, you certainly have convinced him,” Colby said before his smile faded and he wore a serious expression. “Tell me something. Dakota said you convinced the elders to help. I thought Elsu had.”

  “Is that what he said?”

  “So how?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  She seemed hesitant to tell him.

  “C’mon. You must have some idea.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just told them a story about a stranger. A man and a dog who risked their lives for that stranger when they didn’t need to.” She paused, her gaze meeting his. “I guess it must have struck a chord.”

  Kane barked, and her eyes diverted to him.

  He barked again.

  “All right, all right, I’ll tell the truth,” she said to Kane. “Your dog convinced them.”

  They laughed.

  Kane barked again, his tail thumping the ground, looking all pleased with himself.

  Colby brought a hand up to her face, studying her features. He leaned in about to plant a kiss on her when there was a knock at the door. “Hello, anyone home?”

  “Don’t knock, you idiot, just go in.”

  “It’s called manners, Zeke.”

  “They don’t own the place,” Zeke said, nudging Dylan as they came around into the living room. Dylan’s arm was in a sling. It would take a while before it was fully healed. “Ooops, looks like we interrupted the stars aligning. My bad.” He turned to walk out.

  “It’s fine,” Colby said.

  Jessie and Nina appeared a few seconds after them. “Are they home?”

  “Yeah, though you might want to shield your eyes,” Zeke said with a grin. Jessie strolled in looking much healthier than before. There was color in his cheeks. He was still sporting some gnarly bruises and scars but he looked a lot more like himself. Relaxed and at peace. He had an arm around Nina’s shoulders. Despite the loss of the baby, they weren’t going to let it deter them. Nina had opted to move in with Jessie and leave the Stricklands in the rearview mirror. After what they’d done to her, and their lack of support for Dan, he didn’t blame her. It was unfortunate.

  “This is quite the place. Very posh,” Jessie said, his eyes roaming. “A little too posh for you, Colby. Are you taking it?”

  “Haven’t decided yet.”

  “Well if you don’t, I will,” Zeke said. “I could use a nice place to bring the ladies back to.”

  “Ladies. Please. In your dreams,” Dylan added, sinking into a La-Z-Boy recliner and pulling the handle. His legs shot up. He closed his eyes, letting the sun bathe his face.

  “Any food in the cupboards?” Zeke asked, wandering out.

  “Man, do you ever stop eating?” Dylan said.

  “I’ve got the munchies.”

  Jessie lifted a finger. “Oh, hold on a second. I forgot something,” he added, walking back out and returning a moment later with a wrapped gift and handing it to Colby.

  “What’s this?”

  “A welcome home gift. I would have given it to you sooner, but you know, with everything that happened and all…”

  Colby looked at it, curious, and gave it a shake.

/>   “Go on, open it up.”

  He tore off the wrapping to find a brown box. He opened it and found inside a smaller white box. It looked familiar. Colby smiled and gave Jessie a confused look. He motioned for him to open it. Colby cracked it open and his jaw dropped. “How did you…?”

  “Nina knew about it. Hank was going to toss it out. She saved it. Figured you might want it.”

  He looked at her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said.

  He lifted from the small box a gold chain with a heart on the end of it. It was a gift he’d give to Skye many moons ago. Engraved in the precious metal were the words: “Always and forever.” He glanced at Alicia and she offered a strained smile. “Thanks,” he said again before putting it back in the box and closing it. He appreciated having something that belonged to her.

  Jessie patted him on the arm.

  “Well look, brother, if you decide to stay here, let us know, we’ll give you a hand moving in.”

  “Moving in what?”

  “The beer.” He winked and took hold of Colby’s hand and brought him in close and patted his back. “Zeke. Dylan. Let’s leave these two in peace. I think they deserve some.”

  Before leaving, Dylan made a parting comment. “Oh, mother wants to invite you for dinner tonight. I said I would ask.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Dylan gave him a thumbs-up and exited, leaving them in quietness. After what occurred at Fort Humboldt, his mother had apologized. She’d didn’t expect him to forgive her but at least it was a start towards healing.

  “Why do you think the Stricklands didn’t show even though they said they would?”

  “Besides the obvious? They hate us. Our family killed three of Hank’s boys. You don’t get over that kind of grief. Forgiveness is a hard thing for anyone to offer. It’s easier to hate. And, well, it took years to form the wedge between our families and I imagine it will take far longer to heal it. If it can be healed at all.”

  “Do you believe it can?”

  “I’m not sure. Violence begets violence. As Martin Luther King once said, you can murder the hater but you don’t murder the hate.”

  “So do you think the feud between the two families can ever be healed?”