A Powerless World | Book 2 | Survive The Lawless

by Hunt, Jack

  It took a few minutes and then…

  “He’s seen it,” he said enthusiastically. “Jackson knows we’re here.” They weren’t the only ones who knew.

  A shot rang out, striking Paul.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Jessie

  Humboldt County

  It would destroy the community. They wrestled for hours with the decision, him more than the others. It wasn’t that his brothers agreed, in fact, they were against an act of arson, but they were so used to doing what she asked, that to go against her would be like going against God himself. They followed her with blind loyalty.

  Jessie wanted vengeance for Miriam.

  But not this way. Not like this.

  It was one thing to strike back at the Stricklands, another to cause harm to the people of Humboldt. And this would. It wasn’t just one town that would be affected but all the towns. He had thought he didn’t care about them. What had they ever done to help him? But when faced with this, he realized he did. In some ways, it caught him off guard. Destroying Bayshore Mall would rob them of the very things they needed to survive. Every supply they had left.

  She wanted it all gone.

  This was just like his mother. Spiteful. Her anger was venom that spread and crippled everything it touched.

  But in her usual way, she’d convinced them.

  Those supplies won’t last forever. Those people will die anyway. Do you want your uncle to stay in jail? Do you want the Stricklands to get away with what they did to Miriam? She laid it on thick. Injecting her toxicity into their grief.

  Eventually, they accepted it. Now it was just a matter of how it would be done. He thought they’d have to head into Eureka, watch the cops from afar, observe their patterns, but his mother had already done that. She was miles ahead of them. Always.

  “You’ll approach from the west across the inlet that separates Arcata Bay from South Bay. Head over to Fairhaven. Everything you need is waiting for you there. I’ve already made the arrangements for a boat and fuel canisters to be ready.”

  “Already? Mother, there has to be another way,” Jessie said.

  “There isn’t.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not thinking right.”

  “I’m the only one thinking.” She took a sip of bourbon. The bourbon sloshed in the glass. “I know you don’t understand now but you will. You all will.”

  Jessie stepped forward, closing the gap between. He jabbed a finger at the ground. “There are kids that depend on those supplies. You want them to go hungry?”

  “They will anyway, Jessie. You can’t stop that. Whether we do this or not. Right now they are living in a false bubble of security. They are hanging on every word that comes out of Dan Wilder’s mouth. But what they don’t realize is that he will soon start rationing out supplies to people. It will happen. That stock will dwindle and when it does there will be outrage. But not now. That’s because they think help is coming. It isn’t. Hell is coming and the sooner you all wise up to that, the better you will be able to survive it.”

  He shook his head.

  “Jessie, listen to me. These are the same people who put you away for three years. Why are you now growing a conscience? Have they ever helped us? No. These people have pushed back, made our lives a living hell in these hills. Even the Stricklands would agree with that. And if we don’t do it, you can bet they will.”

  “So this is how you justify it.”

  She attempted to place a hand on him but he pulled back. “Listen to me, boy. You don’t have to like what you need to do, but we exploit the situation and use it to our advantage. So swallow what little empathy you have and take your brothers and get this done. It must be done today.”

  He fought her on it. Threw out every excuse not to do it. He even offered to attempt to get Alby out of jail another way but she wouldn’t listen. Once she had her mind set, it was concrete. Immoveable.

  Late that afternoon, as the sun was dipping behind the trees, they headed out on ATVs.

  Jessie pushed the thought of what would happen to all these people from his mind. He’d even begun to justify it. It would speed up the process. Bring about the change that would point the finger at the Stricklands, see an end to Dan Wilder, and bring home Alby. Before leaving, Jessie had asked her how she’d gotten Alby to agree. Her response was simple. “He knows you and this family are the future.”

  Whether he said so or not was unknown. He’d find out soon enough.

  If this worked as his mother said it would, it would lead to a different town, a different county, one which she could manipulate. He knew that’s why they were doing this. It had little to do with Miriam, Alby, or the Stricklands. Oh, she could pretend to be mother of the year but he knew better. All of this had been brought about by her, beginning with Ryland. He just hadn’t figured out why him and what her angle was. But he would.

  With so many residents to take care of, local police were confined to patrolling homes throughout the town, leaving their travel to Fairhaven uninterrupted.

  The small, unincorporated community had 177 people living close to a shipyard. It was located roughly two and a half miles west of Eureka, a thin strip of land that extended from north to south. It was used by the Navy more than the locals. It had a fishing factory, an airport, and homes dotted throughout.

  On the other side of the inlet, at the back of the Bayshore Mall was the Chevron oil and gas plant, and a large swath of marshland, trees, shrubs, and walking trails. The police certainly wouldn’t be expecting anyone to travel across the water in the dead of night.

  His mother had told them not to worry.

  The cops would be busy that evening.

  After making it to Fairhaven, they were to head to a soil and fertilizer plant, a huge property by the banks of the water, and to wait there until they were met by a man named Israel. “You know this guy?” Dylan asked.

  “Never heard of him,” Jessie said.

  They’d parked the ATVs between two huge eighteen-wheelers. Jessie kept glancing at his watch, waiting for the sun to melt into the horizon and for darkness to cover them.

  Lincoln was on top watching for cops while Zeke was down by the water observing the Bayshore Mall.

  “You know, you need to stop arguing with her and just go with it,” Dylan said.

  “Why?”

  “It’s easier that way.”

  “That’s because you all say nothing. Maybe if you backed me up things might be different.”

  Dylan tossed his cigarette on the ground and crushed it below his boot. “We’ve always had your back, but dad isn’t here anymore to give her other options.”

  He shook his head and shouted to Lincoln. “Any sight of him?”

  “Not yet. No police either.”

  “There won’t be.” Fairhaven was too small. No one gave a shit about the peninsula. He looked out across the water, thinking about how they would do this. She’d told him what part of the mall had the supplies. Their job wasn’t to get inside, just to ensure the place was set ablaze.

  It didn’t take long for Israel to show up. A black guy arrived on horseback with two others, both carrying rifles. He hadn’t met them before, and Jessie knew most faces in town. It made him wonder what his connection was to his mother.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  He climbed off his horse and wrapped the reins around a piece of steel attached to the eighteen-wheeler. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we.” He strolled to the end of the trailer and opened up the back. Inside were numerous barrels of gasoline. He already had multiple 5-gallon canisters ready for them to load onto a small fishing boat down by the water. The two guys with him gave him a hand to take it all down. It seemed like more than the boat could handle, but he reassured them that they’d already tested the weight. As they were loading up the boat, Zeke called out.

  “Jess. Come take a look at this.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He jogged down to the wooden
dock. “What is it?”

  Zeke handed him the binoculars without saying anything and then pointed. “Up there. You see that?” He squinted, peering through the night vision binoculars, scanning the top of the mall. At first, he didn’t see anything until Zeke guided him.

  “There.”

  “Who the hell is that?” he said, noticing six men on top of the building. They weren’t cops. They were wearing tight black gear. Their faces blacked out. He watched with curiosity as they emptied the contents of gasoline cans all over the roof, going back and forth, creating lines. Down below, there were another three doing the same thing but splashing gasoline up the walls. He walked away with the binoculars and made his way back up to Israel. “Hey. Are those your guys over there?”

  “What?” Israel said as he handed off another gasoline canister to his buddy.

  “On the mall. Someone is doing our job for us. Here. Take a look.” He handed the binoculars over, and Israel peered through them.

  “They’re not with us.”

  “Well, they’re not with us either.”

  A moment later, flames burst into view. The same men headed down to the water. Though they didn’t get into boats. He watched them shrug into scuba tanks hidden in the brush and then enter the water. They disappeared below the surface as the fire licked up the sides, and consumed the top of the building. The flames moved quickly, chewing through the outside like it was nothing but cardboard.

  “We need to get out of here.”

  They peeled out, knowing that once the cops realized where it could have been started, they would send a patrol unit over to Fairhaven. They had to be long gone by then. Their ATVs roared up the road, leaving the peninsula behind. Jessie looked off to his right as smoke carried on the wind, and the inferno consumed the building.

  His heart raced, his mind whirled.

  When they made it back, their mother was on the porch with a few of his sisters. He turned off the engine and made his way up. “Is it done?” she asked.

  “It is.” Jessie glanced at his brothers. “But not by us.”

  Her brow furrowed, and she rose from her rocking chair. “What?”

  “Someone else beat us to the punch.”

  “The Stricklands?”

  “No. That wasn’t the Stricklands.”

  “Then who was it?”

  Sheriff Dan Wilder held Lily’s hand, sitting beside a bed in St. Joseph Hospital. He remained there until they said they needed to check on her vitals and run a few tests. She’d been lucky. Lucky to have survived. While there was no guarantee there wouldn’t be lasting damage, he was just pleased that she was breathing and a team was on hand.

  He’d arrived hours ago, carrying her inside, distraught, begging them to help. Nurses took over, wheeling her away on a stretcher and telling him to wait. For several hours he’d hung around the hospital. They’d taken whatever generators that were working, and a few that had been repaired, and placed them in the hospital to ensure the continuation of medical treatment. A skeleton crew was operating around the clock, offering whatever they could with what little resources they had. With no delivery trucks, he’d sent out several guys to towns further afield to see what they could find in the way of hospital supplies and medicine. They’d returned empty-handed. It was another reason why he hoped the arrangement with the militia worked out.

  He sat in a chair, chewing on the corner of his finger, a habit ingrained from his mother. When he was worried, he’d often strip away skin until it was red and raw. Across from him sat a mother with a young child. The girl couldn’t have been older than six. She stared at him and at some point got up off the chair and walked over and offered him a candy from a small bag. He cracked a smile. “You keep them, sweetie. But thank you.”

  She returned to her mother and she hugged her. “Thanks for what you are doing in the town, sheriff.”

  It had been the first time he’d received any praise.

  Since the event, he’d heard nothing more than demands. People stating what they felt they deserved. “You’re welcome. It’s not much. I’m glad to help.”

  “You here for someone?”

  He nodded but didn’t say who.

  “Have you heard when the lights might come back on again?”

  He slowly shook his head. “Not yet. But we are confident that it won’t last long. FEMA is out there, helping people. I’m sure they or the National Guard will make their way here soon.”

  She smiled and ran a hand through her child’s hair. “I heard you arrested one of the Rikers. Is that right?”

  He tilted his head ever so slightly. “Yes.”

  “Good. About time. Them and those Stricklands are like a disease around here.”

  She had no idea about his ties to Hank. Good. It was better that way.

  He got up and smiled and went outside to get some fresh air. As soon as he exited the building he smelled smoke. He sniffed the air and then saw out in the parking lot people looking off into the distance. All of them staring in the same direction. Dan wandered out to where they were. As soon as he skirted around the building and into the lot, his eyes widened at the sight of orange arcing over the town.

  A few residents noticed him. “Sheriff. Do you know what’s happening?”

  “I’ll find out.” He went back inside the hospital and told the front desk he would be back later to check on her. Dan exited the building and returned to his ATV. He fired it up and zipped out of the lot, heading west toward the flames. All the while, his stomach sank. The closer he got, the clearer it became what was ablaze.

  By the time he reached the mall, Johnson and thirty or more officers were already on scene. As soon as Johnson saw him, he came jogging over. His face blackened by smoke. Several officers had rifles in hand and were making their way around the inferno while others cordoned off the area and kept onlookers back.

  “Should I even ask?” Dan said.

  “It’s gone, sheriff. Everything. All the supplies. Burned up.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Colby

  Merced County

  It was a war zone. The staccato of gunfire was deafening. Colby had unleashed a furious flurry of rounds across the street to take out the guy who had shot Paul. His body dropped over the edge of a building. Colby dipped behind the lip of a short wall to check on Paul. He’d set his gun down and was gripping his shoulder as blood blossomed. Colby pulled back the shirt to get a better look. He had him lean forward to check the rear. “It went right through. You’re lucky.”

  “I wouldn’t say I was lucky,” Paul said, grimacing in pain.

  “Man, I wish you had gone home.”

  “You and me both,” he replied.

  He didn’t want to put him in harm’s way, knowing that he had a wife and child waiting for him. Colby tore off some of his shirt and told him to hold it over the wound. “You’ll need medical treatment ASAP.”

  “Ah, well, hold my gun while I phone for an ambulance,” he said sarcastically.

  Colby saw movement off to his right. A face appeared over the ledge in the same area of the building where they’d climbed up. He fired a shot and the bullet struck the guy in the head, sending him down. “We can’t stay here.”

  Scrambling across the top of the roof on all fours to avoid getting shot in the head, Colby made his way to the far side and fired three rounds at several guys who were making their way toward the hardware store. A round erupted behind him, and he turned in time to see a guy slumped over on the other side of the building. Paul had shot him. Had he not, Colby would have been dead by now.

  It was too hot to stay on the roof. They were now drawing more attention than they could handle. Making his way back to Paul, he looked out and saw Jackson and three young guys on the roof of the Outpost, picking off individuals as they darted across the street. They were helping. He would have given them the thumbs-up if he didn’t think he would get it shot off. “You good?”

  “I’ve felt better.”

  “We�
��ll move in a minute. I want to make sure the road is clear.”

  “To where?”

  “Anywhere but here.”

  “But what about your friend?”

  “Right now all that matters is getting you out of here,” Colby said. “Hold up.” He raced across to the far side of the building and engaged with a group that had come around back.

  He heard someone yelling, giving orders.

  “You two, go that way. You, get up there.”

  “I’m not dying for Spider.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Colby watched as one of them killed his own, dropping him as he tried to walk away. That’s how they were doing this. Anyone who got cold feet was executed. Colby took advantage of the moment and killed the guy who’d shot the other one. The bullet struck him in the neck and he collapsed to bleed out. He then turned the rifle on those that were trying to find a way up. There was only one way, and that was using the dumpster at the side of the building.

  Paul already had his gun aimed at the lip of the roof.

  As soon as one of them tried their luck, it was lights out.

  Colby handled the other two that were making their way around and were planning on rolling a vehicle up to the back of the building and then climbing.

  “Wrong choice, assholes.”

  He squeezed off a rapid three-round burst, striking one of them in the stomach. The other one took cover behind the vehicle. Colby fired at the tire, then ejected his mag and palmed in another, preparing to engage again.

  “Colby!” Paul pointed to two more that had climbed on top of the auto shop next to the hardware store. He didn’t manage to get a round off before he had to lay flat on the roof, crawling forward on his belly. The hostiles laid down some serious gunfire, making both of them squirm across the roof surface.

  There were no large air vents to hide behind, the only protection came from a small three-foot brick lip.