by Joe Nobody
The Darkwater team moved with impressive speed and grace, rolling across the desert like a well-coordinated machine. Each man knew his position, movement, and sequence as the four-member advance team ate up ground without excessive exposure. “Damn, those dudes are like ghosts floating across the sand,” commented one man standing near Nick.
“That’s how it’s supposed to be done,” was the big man’s reply.
T-Bone had finally gotten some rest, his nerves settled for at least a few more days. Stepping stiffly toward the kitchen, he stumbled over one of the dogs curled up in its favorite spot, which always seemed to be directly in his path.
“Damn it, Zeus. Damn it all to hell.”
The large animal raised it head, casting a sad look towards its master.
“Shit. I forgot to let you two out last night. What good are junkyard dogs that like to sleep in the house all the time?”
Forgetting about his coffee water, T-Bone made for the front door, shooing the animals outside. “Go on now Zeus. Get outside Hercules. Time for you to go to work and earn your keep.”
Pausing for a moment to watch the pair of huge beasts trot into the yard, T-Bone shut the door, his attention returning to the stove and heating water for that first cup of coffee.
Deke actually heard the footsteps of the mass of flesh before hearing the growl. I’m in a junkyard, he thought. Of course, they would have junkyard dogs.
In a motion as fluid as an old west gunslinger, Deke reached to the small of his back and drew his Taser, just as the 150 pounds of muscle and fur rounded the corner and bared its teeth. Without hesitation, Deke fired the weapon. The two-pronged steel fork hit the watchdog square in the breast, the sharp metal points easily penetrating the animal’s fur and skin. Two seconds later, the beast was lying on its side, tremors of shock still pulsing through its unresponsive body.
Deke bent beside the helpless animal and raised his knife, but then reconsidered. Sheathing the blade, he produced a roll of duct tape from a pouch and in less than thirty seconds had secured the animal’s muzzle and legs.
Just as Deke started to rise, a low growl signaled the animal at his feet hadn’t been alone. Reaching again for his knife, the operator braced for the animal’s charge, but a second Taser dropped the dog instantly. Smiling, one of Deke’s men stepped from behind an old, rusting derrick and nodded toward his boss. Deke tossed the man the roll of tape.
The main cluster of homes was secured within five minutes of Nick’s arrival with the main force. One by one, Nick and a team of men would enter the trailer or camper, appearing a few moments later with wide-eyed, terrified residents clad in their nighttime attire. The roused citizens of the boneyard were herded into the center of the compound. Rifles and harsh grumbles forced the shaken people onto their knees with hands behind their heads. Mothers with small children were all placed inside of a single trailer and warned to keep the little ones quiet.
T-Bone was pulling on his boots when Lyndon’s voice rang out. Like any parent, he detected something was wrong in his son’s voice. “Dad, you better come out here.”
Mumbling, “What the hell,” the junkyard owner mentally prepared himself that the fuel was leaking or someone in the compound was sick. T-Bone pushed open the front door and immediately ran into Nick’s rifle, the flash suppressor touching the bridge of his nose.
Before T-Bone could react, Nick grabbed the old man’s shirt with one hand and yanked forward and down with significant force. T-Bone was on his knees instantly.
“You’re damned lucky I don’t just shoot your ass right now. You hurt one of my people, robbed us of all our food, and tore the hell out of two perfectly good pickup trucks. We’ve wasted a ton of gasoline hunting down your worthless carcass, and I’m short one night’s sleep.”
T-Bone looked up into Nick’s angry face and said, “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, mister.”
“First of all, I want to know where our food went.”
“Midland Station.”
Nick growled, “I know that much. Where and who in Midland Station?”
“The guy that runs the whole town. Mr. Cameron Lewis is my buyer.”
Nick motioned toward the drums of fuel. “Where does he get that much fuel? Is there a big storage facility there?”
“No, sir. They make the fuel there. There’s a small refinery running 24-7. They use it to keep the generators running and trade fuel for food.”
Nick turned away, clearly frustrated with the entire affair. As he glanced at the barrels of fuel stacked around the compound, another question popped into his mind. “Why? Why do you steal? Why didn’t you bring some of this fuel into Alpha and offer to trade? Clearly, you can’t use it all.”
“We do trade with some folks, mister. But I couldn’t take the chance with your town. Mr. Lewis put me on a deadline – if I didn’t deliver enough groceries, he would take my wife off her dialysis machine. She would die. That’s why we broke into your town. That’s why I couldn’t take the chance.”
Nick tilted his head, trying to digest the answer he’d just been given. “So you’re telling me this man in Midland Station has your sick wife hostage?”
“No, sir. He would let me take her anytime I want. He has the only functioning dialysis machine I know of. He keeps her on the machine as part of my payment.”
“What type of man holds a woman’s medical care over her husband’s head?”
“Mr. Lewis runs Midland Station with an iron fist, just like he ran Lewis Brothers Oil. He was a ruthless businessman then and twice as hard to deal with now. Really, I don’t blame him after what those people have been through. Half the town is burned down or the site of a mass grave. There are 20,000 people and not nearly enough food. There’s rumor of revolt floating around the streets.”
Nick considered the information, using the time to figure out what to do next. He finally decided to ask his prisoner the very question that dominated his thoughts. “And what should I do with you?”
The old man on his knees didn’t respond. Part of Nick wanted the criminal to beg for his life, to grovel for mercy. The man was a thief. On the other hand, Nick understood part of the motivation. I’d do anything to save Kevin’s life, he thought. I’d do far worse than anything this man has done to save Diana.
Nick turned back and ordered, “Stand up.”
After waiting until his captive was on his feet, Nick’s voice became low and mean. “I’m going to let you and your people live today, old-timer. I’m going to show mercy just this once. In exchange for the food you took from Alpha, we’re going to show up here tomorrow and take most of this fuel. Even with that, you owe me. I’m going to come calling one day to collect that favor.”
“I’ll pay, mister. I’ll pay up.”
“Don’t even think about coming near Alpha or Meraton again. We know who and where you are. There will be no clemency for you, or these women and children, if I hear of even a hint of bullshit out of you. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.”
Nick spun around to the gathered residents still on their knees, shouting, “Do all of you understand what I’ve said?” Staring until every single head nodded agreement, Nick sent runners to retrieve the trucks.
Chapter 7
Alpha, Texas
January 27, 2016
“This guy in Midland did what?” a sleepy Bishop asked.
“He’s got this guy’s wife on a kidney machine. He’s forcing the dude to deliver food, and keeping her on the machine is part of the payment,” responded Nick.
Bishop yawned, holding open the door to the kitchen for his friend. “That’s cold, man. That’s frosty cold.”
“According to this T-Bone character, Midland’s people are starving. The government completely broke down during the collapse, and a guy running some big oil company stepped in and took over. T-Bone described the new boss man as ruthless.”
Bishop found one of the church ladies had already made a pot of coffee, the cheery volun
teer bustling about the kitchen humming “How Great Thou Art.” After an exchange of smiles and greetings, Bishop and Nick took their cups and sat at an empty table.
“I’m not surprised. A single employer or two dominate many small cities. They would have all of the infrastructure in place to step in and take over. As far as the ruthless part, that’s no big shocker either. I worked for a company that wasn’t afraid to bare its fangs now and then. An old manager of mine once told me that corporations were the most ferocious foe on the planet.”
Nick nodded, lost in thought.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Bishop continued. “This dude in Midland is going to be an issue. Whatever is going on in Fort Stockdale, at least they keep to themselves. This guy running the show in Midland is aggressive. If your new friend T-Bone can’t deliver the goods, he’ll find someone else that can. Maybe the next guy raids Meraton and doesn’t take hostages. He just comes in and shoots everybody and then takes what he wants.”
Nick rubbed his eyes and yawned, “I’ve got to hit the sack. I’m getting too old for these all-nighters. Hell, I’m getting too old for this shit in general. I’m retired, ya know.”
“Watch that language in this building, old man,” a voice sounded over Nick’s shoulder. Both men looked up to see Deacon Brown strolling down the aisle of tables. “This is still the Lord’s house.”
Diana retrieved her own cup of java and joined the two men. “So now Alpha has lots of fuel and no food. I don’t think that’s a good barter.”
“I wouldn’t say we’ve got a lot of fuel, but it will help a little.”
Bishop sipped at his cup, lost in thought. The sound of shuffling feet caused the three to look up and find a much tousled-looking Terri scuffling sleepily into the room. Raising one hand in a half-hearted greeting as she passed, her demeanor caused Nick to grunt. “She looks like I feel.”
Diana shook her head, “I wouldn’t want to be with child during these times. What were you thinking, Bishop?”
The jab caused Bishop to stiffen, his mouth opening to defend himself, but Diana’s raised hand stopped the words from rolling off his tongue, “Now, now,” the Deacon interjected, “remember what building you’re in.”
Everyone chuckled at the exchange. Terri, joining the group and holding a steaming cup, asked, “What’s so funny?”
The friendly banter, mostly at Bishop’s expense, continued for a few minutes while Nick wound down from his adventure, and everyone else prepared for the day. Nick had just announced he couldn’t hold his eyes open any longer when Chancy, the town’s electrical expert entered the room.
“Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you, Diana,” the slight man announced.
“Get a cup and join us, Chancy,” Diana invited.
“Oh, thank you, but there’s not time for that. I wanted to let you know that I was talking with some of the newcomers this morning. I thought I recognized one of the women from my days at the power company. I was right. Anyway, she told me that two of the electrical crews were stranded in Fort Stockdale. She said there’s even an engineer with them.”
Diana rubbed her chin, “Really?”
Chancy nodded, continuing, “She also told me that they had two fully equipped line-trucks. You know, the ones with the man-lifts you see repairing overhead electrical cables.”
Bishop said, “I wondered what happened to all those guys. They must have been deployed in force when the grid started falling over. I just assumed most of them finally abandoned ship and headed home to protect their families.”
Diana looked up at Chancy and asked, “So what would these two crews be able to do for us, Chancy?”
“If they have engineers with them, they would know the entire system and the location of spare parts. The woman I talked with said those crews along with everyone else at Fort Stockdale who didn’t live in the town were housed in some sort of labor camps. Ya know, we could really use those guys. The first thunderstorm that hits Alpha may knock out our precious electricity, and without maintenance equipment, there’s no way we can fix it.”
“You all know how I feel about what’s going on in Fort Stockdale,” inserted Terri. “They brand little children and crucify people. You saw the bodies hanging on the crosses yourself, Bishop. I say we go kick their asses. Set those people free. I’ll go get my rifle and lead the attack.”
Nick shook his head, “Terri, while we all appreciate your passion and sense of right versus wrong, we can’t become the area’s police force. Even if we wanted to, we don’t have the manpower or the resources to start a crusade.”
Terri’s expression caused Bishop to stiffen; he’d seen that look in his wife’s eyes before. He was trying to figure out a way to warn Nick that he had just fallen into a tiger trap, but was too late.
“Nick,” she began with a soft tone, “didn’t I just hear someone say that Midland Station was going to be a problem for everyone in the region?”
“Well… yes, I was saying that… but…”
“And weren’t you one of the strongest supporters of helping the newcomers relocate to Alpha?”
Nick began to sense he was in trouble, “Yes, I think that’s a good idea, but….”
“So let me ask you this,” Terri interrupted with the sweetest voice she could muster. “Which requires less resource – letting places like Midland Station and Fort Stockdale starve and abuse people and then try and salvage what’s left, or becoming proactive and addressing the problem at the source?”
While Nick tried to figure a way out, Diana chimed in. “It’s a valid point. Word of what we’ve got going on here in Alpha and Meraton is spreading. Even if refugees from other towns don’t come here, the people running those places might decide to try and take what we’ve built.”
Bishop shook his head in disagreement. “Preventive strikes aren’t always a good policy. Look at the mess we created in Iraq, all under the pretense of stopping an enemy that was going to be a problem – in the future.”
Terri said, “We made a mistake in Iraq, no doubt about it. The justification was there; the execution sucked. We should have cut off the head of the snake, not tried to eat the serpent from the tail up. I don’t want to see my husband and the other good men of Alpha mount an invasion of Fort Stockdale or anywhere else. I don’t want to bury the casualties. What I do want is to surgically remove the problem, and let the people decide. If we take out the tyrants ruling those hellholes, I’m betting the good folks will rise. You saw that right here in Alpha, didn’t you Diana?”
Terri’s remarks caused everyone to pause, the concept making sense on so many levels.
Nick finally broke the silence. Taking Terri’s hand warmly, he said, “You are one interesting bank teller, young lady. I’m going to think long and hard about what you just said… right after I get some sleep. Good night, everyone.”
Diana hugged Nick, having one last suggestion before he retired. “Nick, if I invite Pete and Betty from Meraton, will you man the barbecue? I think we need to make some serious decisions and involve everyone.”
Nick nodded, “If there’s any steak left in town, I’d be happy to cook out. Give me four hours rest, and I’ll be good as new.”
A radio transmission resulted in Pete and Betty agreeing to make a road trip to Alpha that very afternoon, both of the Meraton residents eager to see some different scenery after months of being cooped up in the same town. The running joke for the rest of the day was how to roll out the red carpet for the visiting dignitaries when they arrived at the courthouse. It was, as far as anyone new, the first bi-city conference to be held since the shit had hit the fan.
Nick kept his promise and set about preparing to grill that evening. Before the meat hit the flame, he had stalked around in secret, a desperate attempt to keep the contents of an old family marinade from Bishop’s prying eyes. Bishop was relentless, constantly dipping a finger in the liquid and guessing at the list of ingredients.
“Is that mustard? Do I taste mustard i
n there?”
Nick smirked but remained silent.
“Come on, Nick. It’s not like this sauce is a national security matter or anything,” Bishop prodded.
“Sorry, buddy. There are some things a man doesn’t share with anyone - his woman, how he picks the Super Bowl winner, and the secrets of his barbecuing greatness.”
Pete beamed when Nick added just a touch of his moonshine to the mixture. “That should help tenderize the steak even more.”
“I wouldn’t get that stuff too close to an open flame,” warned Bishop.
The girls sat at a nearby picnic table watching the playful banter, their reaction to the men’s behavior alternating between grunted laughter and the occasional eye roll. In reality, it was the perfect setting for a cookout. The mid-winter day was closing with a beautiful red sunset, the air temperature so perfect no one noticed its presence.
Terri was happy to see Bishop relax. Friends, a gorgeous day, and the smell of cooking steak were therapeutic for both of them, a welcome reminder that good things still existed in the world.
Before long, plates were being heaped with spoonfuls of potato salad, canned corn, and homemade flatbread. Nick declared the steaks 5-star restaurant worthy, ready for the distinguishing pallet of the esteemed gathering. After the first bites, Nick’s sauce proved worthy of its higher-than-top-secret classification. No one issued any wisecracks when Terri reached over and helped Bishop cut his meat, his fumbling one-handed attempts resulting in a prime cut nearly falling into the grass.
As the group ate, the topic of the recovery naturally entered the conversation. Terri courted the group’s opinions about what the priorities of the communities should be.
“Thinking long term is probably wise,” began Bishop. “High level projects that benefit everyone over a time frame of years, not weeks.”
Nick nodded until finishing his swallow. “Energy is job one. We have electricity, but gasoline, diesel, and other fuels are in short supply. We have to figure out a way to get fuel. Without that, there’s no transportation, and we’ll be limited in everything we do.”