by Tara Ellis
“I’d be happy to help you,” Father Rogers said without any hesitation.
Melissa turned to face the priest, her eyebrows raised. “Are you sure, Father? It’s a lot of long hours full of very tedious work.”
Father Rogers shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Melissa, and Patty was again struck by how handsome the man was. She could only imagine how captivating his sermons would be. “Honestly, I have nothing else to do right now and I do have some medical background. Not a lot, but probably enough to at least be more help than hinderance.”
Melissa smiled back and Patty was almost certain she was blushing. “That would be great, Father. If you can come by in the morning after you get some breakfast, I could use some help right away.”
Russell nodded and then moved his gaze to Patty. “Thank you for welcoming me into Mercy, Mayor Woods. I only hope I can return the kindness.”
“You already have,” Patty answered, glad that he had found a way to fit in, in spite of Father White’s continued aversion to him. While the older priest hadn’t said anything more to her in the past day, it was quite obvious when he was working with him earlier at the clinic that they weren’t getting along very well.
“Let’s meet again in a few days to discuss the wagons, the next town barbeque, which also happens to be the Fourth of July, and all of the other normal updates,” Patty concluded as everyone began to rise. Backing away from the table, she started rubbing her hands together again as she walked over to the whiteboard still sitting at the back of the room. It was blank, except for the number 640 written in the middle. The green ink was in her own handwriting, but Patty could hardly remember drawing it. Taking a deep breath, she rubbed away the four and zero with the edge of her left hand while picking up the same green pen with her right. Slowly, almost reverently, she wrote the new population of 638. Would there ever come a day when the numbers increased instead of dwindled?
Her heart heavy, Patty went to set the pen back down, but paused as a surreal sound tore through the air. Spinning back towards the windows, Patty saw that everyone in the room had frozen in fear as the screeching reached a crescendo. Betty covered her ears, Mr. Sullivan ducked down behind the table and Caleb was reaching out to her. Patty struggled to understand what was happening…it was as if a train was about to hit the building, its brakes wailing in protest, while at the same time a cheetah roared and a waterfall gushed.
Then, something did hit the building, only it wasn’t a train, but a wall of water and howling wind. The storm was there, and as everyone gasped with the realization, Patty was terrified that her words from only minutes earlier would prove to be prophetic. Once again, they were unprepared and this time there was no telling what the damage would be.
Chapter 18
ETHAN
Miner’s Trail, Central Montana
“I want you to ride Lily the rest of the way.” Tom stared down at Ethan with his arms crossed over his chest and it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood to debate the situation.
However, his dad’s moodiness never stopped Ethan before. “I’m fine!” he argued, taking another bite of his biscuit. Anna had packed enough of the hard rolls and huckleberries to feed them for a couple of days. Sam was already putting dirt on the fire and Danny was tying down the last of the bags on the pack horse. Sighing audibly, Ethan got slowly to his feet, displacing Grace from his lap. She glanced up at him with a hurt look and so he held out the last of his bread to her.
“Are you?” Tom asked, his eyebrows raised. “Go ahead and lift your pack then. With only your right arm!” he added, when Ethan took hold of a strap in either hand.
Grunting, Ethan attempted to do as his father demanded, and could only lift it half of the way. His face pinched with pain; he dropped the bag back on the ground unceremoniously. “So I can’t lift my stupid backpack. That doesn’t mean I can’t sit on a horse.” Ethan knew he was whining and he glanced over at Danny, who wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she was listening. Sam at least had the decency to pretend to be doing something else.
“It’s not about sitting on a horse, and you know it.” Tom retorted. “You haven’t been on the length of that trail, Ethan. There’s a very steep, rocky section that I wouldn’t want you to take Tango through, even with a good arm. He’s too flighty and we’ve never had him on a trail like that. It’s a chance I’m not willing to take, so I’ll be riding him instead.”
“I have to agree with your dad,” Danny added, moving closer. Ethan turned his pained expression on her and she smiled at his antics. “Your arm is probably only bruised, maybe sprained, but without any real way to examine it we don’t know for sure that you didn’t break something. A hard yank on the reins and certainly a fall on a steep, rocky trail isn’t something you need to risk.”
Ethan expected his dad to be irritated at the interruption, but instead, he gave Danny a thankful grin. “What?” Ethan said, stopping Sam as he attempted to walk by with another handful of dirt he didn’t need. “You aren’t going to get in on this?”
“I figure you have enough sense to work this out on your own.” Winking, Sam tossed the dirt and then whistled for Grace. “Time to get going.”
Sam understood how Ethan’s brain worked way too well. Ethan knew his dad was right. If he were honest about it, he would admit to having a hard time keeping the gelding in check for the rest of their ride the night before, and that was on a relatively flat surface.
It had turned out to be another ten miles to the campground, where the trail met up with State Route 12 for a short distance. There had been too many people there for any of their comfort, so they had continued down the road for another few miles until his dad found the other trailhead.
Ethan understood why his dad wanted to find it before dark. He was just as eager to be on that final stretch, but it made for a really long day and he was still tired and very sore. Another night sleeping on the cold ground had emphasized all the new bruises he got from being hit by the tree.
“Fine,” Ethan huffed, picking the pack back up with his left arm. “But I’m pretty sure there’s got to be some sort of cowboy code about never taking a man’s horse away.”
Tom stared at him for moment before laughing out loud. He surprised Ethan by reaching out and ruffling his hair in a playful manner, the way he always used to. When was the last time he’d done that? Probably not since the first day of the flashpoint. Maybe even longer. The totally normal gesture brought on such a surge of unexpected emotions that Ethan had to turn away. He knew his dad probably took it the wrong way, but he wasn’t about to have a breakdown in front of everyone.
Walking to Lily without daring to look back, Ethan patted wordlessly at his thigh for Grace. The retriever responded immediately and he felt better as soon as her cold nose nudged against his hand. Kneeling down, he pretended to simply pet her back and tell her to follow him, when he was in fact using her calming presence to help him control his racing heart.
Ethan had begun to experience what he thought were panic attacks. His mom struggled with it and even took medication periodically. He’d never understood why she couldn’t simply shake it off, or whatever. Yeah…it wasn’t that easy.
His breathing back under control again, Ethan found further comfort in the familiar motions of mounting the horse. He was thankful that the sun was shining so they wouldn’t have to suffer through another miserable, wet, cold day. In fact, the sky was the darkest blue it had been in over a week and for the first time since they started the whole journey, he couldn’t smell the smoke from burning cities. It had a distinctly acrid scent to it. While the storm had been terrifying, it also turned out to be cleansing. Plus, they were heading due north and steadily climbing higher into the mountains. Montana was called Big Sky Country for good reason.
“Hopefully we won’t have a bunch of trees to get around,” Sam said as they all fell into line. Unlike the section they’d been on when the storm hit, now the trail was narrower and surrounded by dense forest. Although
the debris from the storm wasn’t as bad, there were still plenty of branches and an occasional uprooted tree trunk.
“The worst part of the trail is on a rocky ledge,” Tom said. “There aren’t many trees through there so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?” Danny said sarcastically.
“You’ll be fine,” Tom reassured her. “Just give the horse her head and hold on. If it’s too bad, you can always get off and walk.”
Based on Danny’s expression, Ethan figured she’d be doing her fair share of hiking over the next two days. Two days…he smiled. Could they really be that close to finally being home at the ranch? The thought of sleeping in his own room and bed was enough to dispel the last of his anxiousness.
With Tom leading the way, they set a good pace and there wasn’t much talking for the first couple of hours. Grace would bark and chase after the occasional squirrel, but otherwise, they were surrounded by a pristine, raw landscape and profound silence.
As they traveled above what had to be more than five thousand feet, the trees thinned out and deer trails began to intersect with their own narrowing one, making it harder to define which was which.
“Be sure to keep an eye out for any herds,” Tom called back to Ethan as the sun rose higher and continued to dry out the foliage.
“Do you mean deer?” Danny asked.
Ethan twisted around in his saddle and rolled his eyes at her. “Why in the world would we look for deer when we can hunt elk?”
“Sorry,” Danny said, making a face back at him good-humoredly. “I’m not a hunter. I know how to shoot…I’m actually pretty good at it, but I’ve never shot an animal.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who don’t believe in it,” Tom said, sounding genuinely concerned.
Danny snorted. “Of course not! Even if I were, I think our current situation would trump any of my aversions to animal cruelty. We need to eat. If you teach me how, I’d be happy to bring Bambi…er, I mean, whatever you’d call an elk home for dinner.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten elk,” Sam said, from the back of the line. “I’ve heard it can be kind of gamey.”
“Depends,” Ethan said, enjoying the conversation. “If an elk is butchered and cooked right, it doesn’t taste gamey. It has a stronger flavor than beef, but I think it’s good.”
“We can also hunt for duck later this year, and black bears,” Tom added. “I’ve never gotten into tanning, but it might be something we should consider learning.”
Ethan frowned at that troubling observation. “You mean for our clothes and stuff?” He had a sudden, daunting image of them dressed in fur leggings and ponchos.
Tom chuckled and glanced over his shoulder at him. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to salvage plenty of other things for clothes before we resort to using hides. I was thinking more for rugs and leather. It’s going to be cold this winter, with only a fireplace to keep us warm. Some bear rugs on the floor would be nice. And you’d be amazed at how many uses you can come up with for leather.”
Ethan mulled it all over for a while. He wasn’t sure what he thought about it. The idea of living off the land had always been something he thought he’d enjoy. Now that he faced it and all of the different aspects of what it really meant, he wasn’t so sure it seemed as appealing.
Thinking about the luxuries of his previous lifestyle in the fancy home in Vegas made Ethan remember his mom. It wasn’t that he’d really forgotten about her, he just didn’t allow himself to think about her. It was too hard. Shifting in the saddle, Ethan tried to focus instead on the surrounding countryside, and any signs of elk. But his mom’s image kept creeping back into his thoughts. The details were already getting fuzzy. How could he not remember which cheek her mole was on? Or to which side she usually wore her bangs? The knowledge that his photo album waited safely tucked away at the bottom of his bag was the only thing that kept him from giving in again to the vise that was trying to tighten around his chest. He did have a picture. It was a few years old, but she really hadn’t changed much since it was taken. They’d been on a trip to the beach, a condo in Malibu his stepdad rented for a weekend. One of his many attempts to “bond” with Ethan.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the constant breeze on the beach, smell the salty air, and hear the gulls crying. He could hear his mother’s light, musical laughter, and the way she would always tell him that she loved him. The greatest love of her life, she would say, while holding him tight against her chest.
Lily took an extra step to clear a decent-sized log and Ethan was jerked back to the present. It was one full of unknowns and things that could be seen as either obstacles or opportunities. He supposed it was all in the way you looked at it.
Chapter 19
GENERAL MONTGOMERY
Norad Road, Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Colorado
General Andrew Montgomery stared out at the somewhat arid landscape of the Colorado Springs suburb. An impressive neighborhood of nice homes backed up against the base’s boundary. At least, it used to be impressive, before a third of it was ravaged by fire. The rest was now rapidly becoming overgrown and strewn with garbage and tents. He had a nice view of it all from his perch, partway up the mountain.
“I didn’t expect to find you this far up the road.” Colonel Walsh’s head appeared above the edge of the boulder he was sitting on.
Hanging his head, the general sighed and threw his hands up in the air. “And yet, find me you did.” He brushed some dirt from the stone next to him and then patted it. “Come on, have a seat. It’s really a lovely day.”
Walsh hesitated, appearing uncertain if his commander was being serious or not. When Montgomery continued to simply stare out over the valley, he scrambled the rest of the way up the rock and took the offered spot. “Your color is looking a little better.”
“The doctor insisted I come topside to get my vitamin D,” Montgomery said flatly. Tipping his face up towards the sun, he winced as if it were burning. “I take orders seriously. So, here I am.”
He saw Walsh frown, knowing that the younger man figured the comment was meant as a dig for some infraction he’d unknowingly committed. It wasn’t, of course. Walsh’s commitment to detail was admirable, though he never wanted his assistant to get too comfortable.
“The city is still burning,” he observed, leaving Walsh to guess what it was he might have done. “How long do you think it’ll last?”
“There’s a lot of fuel. It could smolder for weeks.”
The general mulled that over for a moment. “And what’s with the line of people at the gate? There are more than I thought there’d be by now.”
“They’re still mostly local residents,” Walsh answered. He pointed at the first gated entry to the complex, which was located several miles down Norad Road and past several parking lots and guard shacks. “We give them some water and re-direct them to either one of the local civilian shelters, or else FEMA CO1. Most are satisfied and seem relieved to finally have someone to tell them what to do.”
“And the altercation last night?” Montgomery stared into the sun again, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Walsh.
The colonel cleared his throat, a nervous gesture he’d developed over the years. “It was unfortunate, sir. Two armed men approached the gate and refused to identify themselves. They continued to demand entry and raised their weapons, forcing the guards to fire upon them. I left a full report on your desk.”
“I read it.” The general finally faced Walsh, his profile dark in the afterglow from the sun. “As I’m sure Vice Admiral Baker did, too.”
“So, you’ve heard of the rumors coming out of Albuquerque.”
“The admiral is doing a solid job of making sure everyone of importance hears those stories,” Montgomery growled, his sunshine-infused happiness rapidly fading. “He’s well aware the clinic was attacked by the group that had taken over the FEMA shelter, not our men. H
owever, it would seem those details are getting left out.”
General Montgomery forced himself to take a breath of the fresh air, although slightly tinged with smoke, and got his emotions in check. He couldn’t let Vice Admiral Baker get to him. Instead, he focused on Walsh and why he’d sought him out. “Are you going to tell me why you’re sitting on the side of this mountain with me? Because I know it isn’t to discuss water-lines and rumors.”
“Governor Alicia Jenson,” Walsh said without any further preamble.
Montgomery frowned, trying to place the name. “The governor out of Idaho?”
“That’s the one,” Walsh confirmed.
“Why would I care about the governor of Idaho?”
Walsh cleared his throat again. “Because she’s invoking her right to appoint herself as the new senator for her state, and is calling upon the other remaining governors to do the same.”
It didn’t take Montgomery long to put it together. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “If she can manage to get a quorum together, they can vote for a president pro tempore.” In the civilian government, the head of the senate, or the president pro tempore, was the third in succession for the presidency, after the Speaker of the House. If she succeeded in the gambit, they could legally appoint a new president.
General Montgomery had the utmost respect for their former administration. However, it was clear that the current attempt to usurp the military and their declaration of martial law was not in the best interest of the people.
Walsh wisely remained silent as the general thought about the possible scenarios. “Break down the numbers for me,” Montgomery demanded after a few minutes. His voice was curt and he’d lost any of his previous goodwill.
“Out of the nineteen viable states, we’ve had confirmed contacts with eleven of the governors, though one of those is Hawaii, so we won’t count her for now.” Walsh shifted uncomfortably on the hard rock, but his face remained neutral. “One of the senators for California was home on vacation during the flashpoint, so he’s the most likely candidate for the president pro tempore.”