Flashpoint (Book 3): Fallout

by Ellis, Tara

  “Requisition?” Patty echoed. “You mean steal!”

  Sheriff Waters crossed his arms over his chest and looked back at the growing crowd in the cemetery. “Martial law gives the federal government the freedom to do whatever’s necessary to keep the masses safe. That’s the whole point of it. But shooting a farmer trying to keep his horse? Requisitioning a whole town?”

  “I’ll see what I can find out,” Caleb said, and Patty knew her husband well enough to pick up on his immediate uptick in anxiety. “I’d like to think things are being exaggerated, but in the face of what’s happened, I can see where extreme measures would be seen as acceptable.”

  “Thank you,” Patty said, turning back to the woman. “Was there anything else?” Clearly a dismissal, the female rider shook her head and then motioned for the other rider to follow her. “I’ll meet you back at the station after the service, and fill you in on the past three days,” Patty offered.

  Once they were gone, Patty turned to the sheriff. “We should increase our numbers on the gate.”

  “Agreed, though I doubt it will do any good if a group of armed soldiers want to get inside.” Sheriff Waters stared hard at Caleb. “How much do they know about us? What did you tell them?”

  “Not much,” Caleb replied, his forehead scrunching up as he thought back over his conversations. “Mostly demographics. Population, illnesses, and our needs, rather than strengths. My hope with them from the beginning had been to get aid, so I’ve highlighted our weaknesses instead of our strengths.”

  “That’s good,” Sheriff Waters muttered, clearly thrown off by the idea of having to worry about their own government pillaging them.

  “Illnesses,” Patty repeated. When both Caleb and the sheriff looked questioningly at her, her lips formed a weak, thin smile. “Perhaps one good thing can come out of this tragedy,” she said, motioning to where the pastor was positioning himself near a left-over pile of dirt. “The next time you hear from whoever’s calling themselves our government, you make sure they know all about the outbreak here in Mercy, and that it isn’t under control.”

  Mist rose from the graveyard as the first sunlight of the day kissed the valley floor, warming the damp grass and freshly turned soil. Patty took it all in; the fragility of their lives, and how much they now relied on each other.

  She wouldn’t let anyone take Mercy away from them.

  Chapter 12

  TOM

  FEMA Shelter M3, Monida Montana

  Tom pulled the black, government-issued T-shirt over his head with halting, angry movements and then faced off with the private, who was watching to make sure he complied. Danny and Ethan were already dressed in the shirts and matching black duty pants.

  “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” the soldier sneered while stuffing Tom’s clothes into a bag.

  “I want my belongings back,” Tom barked, pointing an accusing finger at the younger man. “And it’s been over twelve hours. Why are we still here?”

  The private turned and walked out of the quarantine tent with his arms full of their clothes, not offering any answers. Tom watched him go, his frustration mounting with each step.

  “So they want to wash our stuff,” Ethan said with a shrug. He was sitting on the edge of the cot, next to Sam, and for some odd reason the black outfit made him look older than his fifteen years. “I don’t really care if I ever see that shirt again.”

  “That’s not the point,” Tom snapped back. “They’ve taken our horses, gear, and now even our clothes. Every step we get further into this, it’s that much harder to get back out.” He knew that part of his anger stemmed from the temptation to simply accept things, the way Ethan was appearing to. Tom had been in a constant battle with himself since they’d arrived. He might be coming across a little heavy-handed as a result, but he didn’t know how else to cope. While they might have been given a tent to sleep in and edible rations, there had to be a cost for it.

  Danny stood from where she’d been sitting on top of the table and so he turned to face her. “I agree,” she said, her expression hard to read. They had all looked away to offer her some privacy while changing, but the soldier watched, adding all the more to the atmosphere of their powerlessness. “They’re trying to intimidate us. Make sure we go along with things.”

  Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows from where he lay on the cot and frowned at them. “I’m already feeling better, guys. I’m good to go whenever you want to get out of here.” He tried to smother a cough unsuccessfully.

  Danny was obviously unconvinced as she put her hands on her hips and glared disapprovingly at Sam. “You should rest for at least one more day. If you push too hard you could still end up with pneumonia.”

  “A couple more days isn’t going to make a difference.” Tom crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to sound sincere. “We’re already here and it is what it is. We’ll be good little campers and then get out of here.” He made a point of looking at Ethan while he spoke, but his son pretended to be busy shuffling a deck of cards.

  The tent flap was suddenly pushed open with a flourish, allowing bright sunlight inside. Tom squinted against the glare as Specialist Pratt walked in with another man. His demeanor was markedly more professional that morning as he moved to examine Sam without so much as a look in Danny’s direction.

  “I’m Corporal Dillinger. I’m in command of Shelter M3.” Corporal Dillinger didn’t offer a hand to Tom or Danny, and the reason behind the medic’s behavior change was immediately clear. “Your quarantine is now completed and you’ll receive your tent assignments, if you’ll follow me.”

  “Tent assignments?” Danny asked, glancing at Sam as the Corporal tried to leave. “Aren’t we all in the same one?”

  “I’m moving Sam to the infirmary,” Pratt explained, not looking up from the blood pressure cuff he had wrapped around Sam’s arm. “You’re welcome to come visit him,” he added with a hint of his former slimy self.

  Tom caught up with the corporal, who was already a step outside the tent. “Maybe you can fill us in on some things,” he began, doing his best to keep his voice level as he kept pace with the man. “Nothing has been explained to us since we got here. All of our gear was taken, stuff we’ll need in order to finish our journey. And we have five horses that I’d like to check on. Make sure they’re being cared for properly.”

  Danny and Ethan emerged from the tent and stood together near the entrance. Tom noticed that Danny was squinting warily at the corporal while Ethan appeared more interested in scoping out the rest of the camp.

  Corporal Dillinger stopped to look scornfully at Tom before gesturing behind him. Tom turned and he saw that their backpacks were piled up unceremoniously in the grass near the tent. Relieved, Tom tossed Danny her bag before retrieving his, and the brief relief evaporated as he lifted it. It was obvious without even checking that the backpack was light. Unzipping the top, Tom confirmed that all but his one change of clothes and a couple of personal items had been removed. “Where’s the rest of it?” he demanded, noting that the corporal hadn’t answered his other questions.

  “Every refugee wears the same clothes, eats the same food, and is afforded the same comforts while in Shelter M3,” Dillinger said, his eyes narrowed. “Luxury items would only lead to bartering or theft and we can’t allow that to happen. I can assure you that the horses are being properly seen to. They’re a precious commodity nowadays.”

  “We aren’t refugees,” Tom countered, trying to reason with the man. He stomped back toward the corporal, tossing the nearly empty bag off to the side. “That’s what I’ve been trying to get through to your men since we got here. We’re only passing through on our way home. We appreciate your helping Sam, but we don’t need anything else. We don’t want anything else.”

  The corporal made a tsking sound and chuckled without any humor. “Says the man with nothing more than the shirt on his back.” Ignoring Tom’s reaction, he barked an order to one of two soldiers who were
hovering nearby. “Escort Miss Latu to the women’s barracks.”

  “Women’s barracks!” Danny shot back, moving up next to Tom. “We want to stay together.”

  Tom saw Danny was clutching tightly to Grace’s collar, her knuckles white as she did her best to keep the retriever at her side. Danny hadn’t shown a whole lot of emotion since they’d met and he was unsettled by the fear he saw in her dark eyes. It sparked a strong desire to protect Danny that Tom wasn’t prepared for, and without really thinking about it, he stepped in front of her. “She isn’t going anywhere without us.”

  Corporal Dillinger took a slow, measured step toward Tom so that their faces were mere inches apart. They were close to the same size and both had an air of confidence. The kind that made other men listen to them. “Are we going to have a problem, Mr. Miller?”

  Tom clenched his jaw and spoke in a voice so low that it wasn’t much more than a whisper. “I want my horses, my gear, and then my friends and I are going to walk out of here.”

  Tilting his head slightly, Corporal Dillinger grimaced before tsking again. “I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen. Oh, you’re more than welcome to leave whenever you’d like. You certainly aren’t prisoners. However, on behalf of the United States government, your five horses and any equipment deemed useful has been requisitioned.”

  Tom was aware of the nearest soldier glancing nervously at his partner, and saw Danny put an arm out to stop Ethan from moving toward them. He took a second, and then a third breath to try and counter the fury welling up in his chest that threatened to overpower his thoughts…and lost the battle.

  With surprising speed, Tom dropped into a low stance. He then came up hard into the other man’s chest, lifting the corporal off his feet and slamming him down onto the ground.

  “Oomph!” Dillinger grunted as the wind was knocked from his lungs. However, it didn’t slow him down.

  Tom hadn’t even managed to land a blow to the corporal’s head before he took an elbow to the jaw from the other man. It knocked him sideways and gave Dillinger the opening he needed to shove Tom up off of his chest.

  Both men staggered to their feet, fists raised, but the larger of the two guards finally reacted and stepped in between them. Without a word, he swung the butt of his AR into Tom’s stomach.

  “Ugh!” Tom took a knee and fought against the bile rising in his throat. Sharp pain suddenly blossomed through his right shoulder then, and he grunted when the private slammed the rifle into his back for a second time. Finally falling face-first into the dirt, he saw two pairs of boots move close to his face.

  “Stop!” Danny shrieked, from somewhere close by.

  Tom attempted to push himself up, but he was forced back down by the muzzle of the automatic rifle being jammed into the back of his neck. “Stay down.” The corporal’s voice was dangerous and Tom froze, knowing he’d crossed too many lines.

  A different sort of weight enveloped him then, and hands wrapped around his shoulders to grab at his chest as Danny threw herself in between Tom and the weapon. “Stop it!” Danny repeated, her mouth close to his ear. “What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to be helping people, not stealing from them and killing them!”

  The pressure at the back of Tom’s neck disappeared, but so did Danny, and then two sets of hands lifted him roughly to his feet. Facing Corporal Dillinger, he was pleased to see blood dripping from the man’s nose.

  “We just want to leave,” Tom gasped, still having a hard time sucking air in around the queasiness.

  The corporal leaned in close. “Then that was the wrong move,” he whispered. “Take him,” he ordered, stepping back and looking at his men. “He’s under arrest.”

  Chapter 13

  DANNY

  FEMA Shelter M3, Monida, Montana

  Tom stumbled as one of the soldiers pushed him in the direction of the buildings that made up the small town of Monida. Stopping, he stood his ground and looked back at Danny. “Take care of Ethan.”

  Danny attempted to follow him and the two soldiers, but Corporal Dillinger stepped in her way. She glared at him and did her best to think through what she was going to say. Danny knew she had to be careful. She could probably still leave, and take Sam and Ethan with her. However, that would mean abandoning Tom and the horses. How far would they get without them and all their gear? Which was, of course, the whole point. It was why all the emphasis was placed on keeping people out, instead of the refugees in. They didn’t stand much of a chance out there without any form of transportation, food, or equipment. But unlike most of the other inhabitants of FEMA Shelter M3, Danny and her friends had someplace to go.

  “Now what?” Danny asked the corporal, placing her hands on her hips and doing her best not to look intimidated.

  Corporal Dillinger wiped the blood from his face and gave her a smug look. “After breakfast you’ll be assigned your duties for the day. We all pull our weight here.”

  “What about my dad?” Ethan demanded, moving up beside Danny. He was still holding on to Grace, and it was a good thing he’d grabbed her when Danny tried to intervene with Tom, or else the retriever might have gotten involved.

  “I’ll give him twenty-four hours to cool off,” Dillinger said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down his nose at Ethan. “I can use a man like him, if he can learn his place. Pratt!” the corporal barked when the medic and Sam emerged from the tent. “Show Miss Latu to the women’s barracks on your way to the infirmary.”

  “Ethan needs to stay with me,” Danny objected. She was taking Tom’s request seriously and didn’t want to let the teen out of her sight.

  “What’s happened?” Sam asked, looking around with a concerned look on his face. “Where’s Tom?”

  Danny put a hand on Sam’s arm to stop his questions and leaned in close. “I’ll tell you in a minute, just go along with things for now.”

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me!” Ethan said without trying to hide his irritation. It was obvious to Danny that he was trying to be brave after witnessing his dad being attacked yet again. She knew there was a certain level of truth to his statement, though. He had managed on his own in a horrible situation for days and he certainly wasn’t a child. She held his gaze for a moment and gave him a slow nod of confirmation, without saying anything.

  “Come on, son,” Dillinger said, putting a hand on Ethan’s back to guide him toward the lake. “I’ll show you where to go. You know, we can use strong men like you, too. Have you ever thought of joining the military?”

  Ethan gave Sam and Danny a parting smile, and he released Grace at the same time. The retriever hesitated briefly and then loped back to Danny while whining in apprehension at the same time over Ethan’s departure.

  “It’s okay, girl,” Danny cooed, kneeling down to take Grace’s face in her hands. “He’ll be okay.”

  “Let’s go,” Specialist Pratt said, and Danny looked up to find him watching her intently.

  “I’ll get our bags.” Danny grabbed both hers and Sam’s backpacks, though they were mostly empty. “Why are you doing this?” she turned and asked Pratt, unable to hide her anger any longer. “I get that you’re probably doing your best in an impossible situation to help as many people as you can, but how does that make it okay to steal from us?”

  “What are you talking about?” Sam interjected before Pratt had a chance to answer.

  Danny took a breath and then shook her head at Sam. “Dillinger told Tom we could leave, but that they’ve requisitioned our horses and gear. He arrested Tom after he, um, got upset about it.”

  “Arrested?” Sam turned to look where Tom had been led off.

  “Dillinger said it was for a day,” Danny explained. “But I don’t trust him.”

  Sam’s brows furrowed before he erupted into another coughing spell. As it died down, he cleared his throat and turned on Pratt. “Under martial law, though the government has the right to requisition personal property in an emergent situation, I hardly
think stealing horses out from under people and forcing them into compliance without just cause falls within the realm of being reasonable.”

  Pratt waved him off, although not before Danny caught a glimmer of humor in his eyes. She figured there were a couple of different types involved in the shelter. Soldiers who were honestly trying to help and following orders even though they might not agree with them. Then there were men like Dillinger and Pratt, either power-hungry zealots or bigots taking advantage of a horrible situation and then excusing it as necessary.

  “We’re under direct orders from General Montgomery,” Specialist Pratt said, as if that explained everything.

  “Who’s General Montgomery?” Danny asked. When Pratt gave her an exasperated look, her contempt for the man deepened. “No one has told us anything! All we know is what we’ve gathered in passing conversations. That there was a gamma-ray burst that killed, like, half the world, and knocked out all of the electronics. We don’t know much else.”

  Pratt gestured for them to follow him as he led the way past the quarantine tent and towards another, larger one some hundred feet away. There were two other soldiers visible walking nearby, as well as at least four female refugees involved in various tasks, all dressed in the same black clothing.

  “It’s closer to three quarters of the world’s population,” Pratt said without his usual sarcasm. “Almost half when the ray first hit, and then another quarter or more from radiation. People are still dying,” he added, not bothering to look back at them while he spoke. “Except that now it’s by their own hands, or else dehydration brought on by lingering radiation or other illnesses. Like this bacteria that’s shaping up to be the next cholera. It’s a whole new world, kids,” he said without humor.