A Powerless World | Book 2 | Survive The Lawless

by Hunt, Jack

  “Helps to know someone who knows someone,” Bill said in his ear. “I told you. I always get what I want.”

  The blaze intensified. Colby coughed.

  “Was he there?” Colby asked.

  “Who?”

  “Jeb.”

  Bill snorted. “He’s already dead, and so are you.”

  He lifted his gun to shoot Colby but at the same time, there was a scraping sound, nails clawing the floor. Both of them turned toward the basement door just in time to see a dog launch in the air.

  It was just a blur of movement, fur, and sound.

  Two things occurred. A gun went off as the animal latched onto Bill’s gun hand, taking him down to the floor.

  The dog wasn’t alone. Paul appeared in the doorway. The military and police rushed in behind them, rifles raised, barking orders.

  “The roof!” Colby bellowed. Some soldiers darted up the stairwell. Colby quickly stepped forward and drove his foot into Bill’s face, knocking him out cold.

  “Release,” Colby said, his memory clearing at the sight of Kane. It was like stepping out of a fog into clear air. As soon as the dog let Bill go, the cops were on him, hauling Bill to his feet and dragging him out. The dog went crazy, bouncing around him, tail wagging, tongue licking him as he dropped down and embraced the ball of fur.

  “Move out!” A soldier yelled, hurrying them out of the store that was now ablaze. Smoke continued to pour in. Black. Thick.

  As Colby lifted his eyes he met a woman’s. “Alicia. Right?” She gave him a confused expression as if it should have been clear. As he stood, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

  “I thought you were… I…”

  She backed up, realizing the awkwardness of the moment.

  Over her shoulder, Paul smiled. He handed Colby a set of keys as they were led out. They were for the truck. “Never used them in the end. Take care.”

  He headed out the same way he came in, ushered out by soldiers.

  “We should…” Colby jerked a thumb to the fire that was now licking its way into the building’s foyer.

  Stepping outside into the night, Colby inhaled fresh air and was greeted by the sight of members of the National Guard and multiple Los Banos police officers. It was the sight of hope, of people not giving up.

  Although there were probably dozens of Bill Mannings out there across America, this one wouldn’t have the hold he’d intended.

  Colby heard crying. He turned to see Rachel in tears.

  Jackson suffered one loss that day. A son. Edward. He’d taken a bullet to the head before his mother shot Hector’s son, Gilbert Sanchez. It was a costly lesson. As much as Jackson wanted to defend his property, it had come at a great cost. Losing one of his own. As Colby, Alicia and Kane walked away, he cast a final glance back. He observed the Hartridge family huddled together, comforting each other in their grief. They weren’t the first to lose someone, they wouldn’t be the last.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jessie

  Humboldt County

  Three days later

  It was a rowdy gathering. Hundreds from the community were crammed into Eureka City Hall, even more, waited outside the council chambers — all to hear the update on the Bayshore Mall. Word had spread fast, faster than the flames themselves. Many from Jessie’s family were huddled on one side of the room, waiting for the meeting to begin, when Hank and his corrupt reprobates entered. There wasn’t enough room inside, but they made some, elbowing their way through a knot of people just as they had in the black market.

  Many had tried to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Rikers and take food out of their mouths but had fallen away, or vanished from the town out of fear of retribution — the Stricklands never. Like them, they never backed down from a challenge. Maybe that’s why they hated each other so much. They were a mirror version of each other.

  “Well take a look at what the cat dragged in,” Zeke muttered.

  Lincoln balled his fists. “They’ve got some nerve.”

  Jessie eyed Seth from across the room, one of those he’d learned had been involved in Miriam’s attack. While she had now awoken and was stable, her memory of what happened was still vague. It had been his mother that had confirmed Seth’s involvement. He wanted nothing but to lunge at him and tear his throat out.

  Regardless of what agreement his mother had made, he had every intention of ending Seth’s life if it was the last thing he did.

  His mother admonished them as if they were in some church meeting. “Eyes forward.”

  Dylan refused. He didn’t take his eyes off them for even a second. The youngest of his brothers, his connection with Miriam was strong. If anyone was about to lash out, it would be him. Dylan ran a hand over his fierce beard, each finger covered with chunky silver rings that doubled as a knuckle duster in a pinch.

  Although none of them were packing handguns because cops searched everyone on the way in, that didn’t mean they hadn’t found unique ways to bring blades inside. They were familiar with police pat-downs, the areas hands would go, the places they didn’t. It was routine. Predictable.

  At the front of the room, council members, emergency operation planners, and county and local police were preparing for Dan Wilder to address everyone. Jessie’s eyes ticked across faces. The one person he expected to be there wasn’t — the mayor.

  Jessie turned his head, hearing grumblings in the crowd.

  “I’d like to hear how they plan to get us out of this mess.”

  “I want to know who did it.”

  “I bet it was the Rikers.”

  “No, it was the Stricklands.”

  “It wasn’t either. I’ve heard it was an accident.”

  No one knew. Opinions and beliefs colored every conversation.

  Themselves. Well, they believed the Stricklands were behind it, and if their dagger-like stares held any truth, they must have thought the same about them.

  The locals looked as fired up as they were. People wanted answers.

  Dan made his way to the front of the room. He looked tidy in his uniform. Capable even under these conditions. Jessie was interested to see how he planned to wiggle his way out of this one.

  “Good evening, everyone. I know that many of you have questions and we will do our best to answer them this evening, however, I would like to call up Pastor Danielle Harris. I wonder if you would do us the honor of starting this meeting with prayer. I think we could all use it.”

  “Prayer isn’t going to feed my kids! Moron!” someone bellowed from the back of the room. Heads turned. Someone was led out of the room by two officers.

  A redheaded woman approached the front and turned to face everyone. Many stood, others bowed their heads. A few removed ball caps. The Stricklands glared at them. Jessie could tell they were just biting at the bit to toss accusations their way.

  The pastor said a few clichéd words, pious even.

  The disgruntled crowd saw right through it and upon closing yelled out a few profanities. A gavel was smashed against the bench multiple times before Dan took over, thanking her. “Please. Everyone. You will all get a chance to be heard and speak but to do so, I would ask that you refrain from shouting or you will be escorted out. I don’t want that to happen. Please be considerate of everyone here. We want an orderly meeting. Thank you again, pastor.” He took a deep breath. “We have a short agenda tonight and then we will get to hear from the public. Now…”

  “Get to it!” someone yelled.

  Others agreed.

  A few chuckled.

  “As you are all aware, three days ago the Bayshore Mall was destroyed in a fire. We are investigating the cause and will update you all as and when we can. Until then, we need to make you aware that all the supplies we had are gone.”

  The room erupted. Questions. Accusations. Cursing. It was to be expected.

  A gavel was pounded by a young woman nearby. Jessie chuckled, looking at her fraught expression. The damn thing wasn’t
loud enough. Any second now the end would fly off, hopefully striking Dan on the noggin. “We will have order. Silence. Settle down!”

  A few overly zealous people were strong-armed out of the room.

  Over the following five minutes, Dan waffled at the front, stumbling over his words, stringing together logical and at times nonsensical ideas for how the community could move forward. Blame was not on his lips as he had no idea who was responsible and as such, he focused on what needed to be done.

  “This is a defining moment for our community. A make-or-break time. For years we have relied upon a system that has functioned and been there for us. I won’t cherry coat this, the safety net is gone. Now, from what we’ve heard so far, FEMA and the Red Cross are beginning to roll out help in larger cities. Camps have been set up. Emergency hospitals. At this time I would be a fool not to urge you to seek out their services, however, that will mean leaving Humboldt County and heading north. For those of you who don’t want to leave your homes, we must look at working together. This is not about what we can do for you. Understand that we,” and he waved to the officials in the room, “we are you. We have families that also need feeding. Now having said that. We live in a bountiful county that offers a lot of fishing opportunities. Wild game exists too, however, you are more likely to have better luck in Trinity or Siskiyou County. So what I would like to propose is that anyone who plans on staying and would like to help, please see me after so we can take down your name and make arrangements to have you help with bringing in food.”

  “Why would we do that?” someone asked. “I’m not fishing here for everyone else.”

  “Sir, you can do that. That’s your right. And, that mentality might feed you but it’s the same mentality that’s liable to get you killed.”

  “What?” he bristled, glancing at his family.

  “Hoarding will make you a target.”

  “Well that’s why you have the job of protecting us,” he replied.

  “So we are to serve you for free but you don’t wish to serve, is that what you’re saying?”

  The man went silent.

  Jessie had to give it to Dan. He might have come from the Strickland line but he wasn’t a stupid man. Dan continued. “Everyone, please understand something. A rising tide lifts all boats. Each of you is a part of this community. If we rise, we rise together. If we fall, we fall together. If you want to be a lone wolf, hoard food, shine your knuckles on your chest, and think you’re going to ride past everyone else — you are very much mistaken. I understand the mentality that no one owes anyone anything in this life but if we were to live by that, there would no law or order, no one to help you when someone breaks into your house, no one to attend to you when you’ve been injured and no one to give a damn when you’re suffering. So… by all means, fish, hunt, keep all the food you get for yourself. But don’t expect me or anyone here to help you out again.”

  “It’s your duty,” another man said. “That’s what you signed up for when they voted you in as sheriff.” All eyes turned on the man.

  Dan responded to him without missing a beat. “You are right. And just as we have a duty to uphold the law, we have within our power something called discretion. That time you were caught speeding, Keith. I had the discretion to let you off with a warning, or give you a ticket. Likewise, in this situation, I have the discretion to help you or make your life a living hell. Do you understand?”

  The man balked. “I’m sure the mayor would have something to say about that.”

  “Oh, well, I think you’d have some trouble asking him. He’s dead.”

  Murmurs spread. “That’s right. Mayor Peterson isn’t coming back. In fact people are dropping like flies around here. So the last thing we need to hear is some asshole talking about duty.”

  A pin dropped could have been heard in the room.

  Jessie stifled a laugh.

  “Every single person here in a uniform is here because they CHOOSE to, not because they HAVE to. Understand that difference. It might save your life.”

  Sure, Dan’s superiors could have pulled him up on it, but where were they? Right now with the mayor gone, he was the head of the spear. The only one stepping up to the plate willing to help, willing to advise, willing to get out there and try to protect the community.

  “We are with you, sheriff!” his mother said to the astonishment of Dan, and many others in the room. Hank looked dumbfounded, however, he wasn’t about to be outdone.

  “So are we. We’ve got your back.”

  Others joined in, showing their support.

  Those who didn’t support him walked out. And there were many.

  An elderly woman made her way to the front while others were slapping each other on the back like a bunch of loony tunes. “Excuse me. Coming through.”

  A knot of people parted to let the woman through. She was hunched over, in her late seventies. “While I agree with the statements, sheriff. And I’m sure many here will help. But it will be a while before any food is brought back to the community. What will we do in the meantime?”

  Dan hesitated before he replied. “Well. We, uh…”

  Before he could finish, the doors to the room burst open and a slew of military personnel walked in. Jessie eyed each of them. They were armed. A cop at the back of the room bellowed, “I tried to stop them, sheriff, but…”

  “It’s okay.”

  A tall man with ocean blue eyes muttered something into Dan’s ear then turned to address the crowd. “My name is Captain Benjamin Evans and this is Lieutenant Elijah Hale. We are part of the California Militia. In answer to your question regarding food. If everyone would like to follow me, please.”

  And like that, he stepped down from the podium and led the people out, down from the second floor to the ground level and out of the building. Questions swirled. Jessie eyed the Stricklands, wondering if they knew what this was about. By their expressions and mutterings, it was just as confusing to them. Outside, under a bright moon, they were led toward the road where multiple military trucks were parked, guarded by even more armed men.

  The captain motioned to his crew, and the backs of all the four trucks were opened, and a flashlight was shone inside.

  It was packed with food and supplies.

  “This is how you will survive. As long as we are around. None of you will go hungry. All of your babies, children, and loved ones will have full bellies.” The captain laid it on thick by bending down and running a hand over a young kid’s face before giving him a bag of chips. The kid beamed with delight and looked up at his mother, and instantly she was won over.

  People gasped. Others cheered.

  Jessie looked over at Hank and his family, they stared back with blank expressions.

  It was as if both families were thinking the same thing.

  What did this mean?

  Who were these people? Militia of course, but that word meant nothing to them. Armed individuals, skilled men, these were a valuable asset to the community but a potential threat to their way of life.

  But more than anything, the question begged to be answered.

  Were they responsible for the fire?

  It certainly would have set them up as the saviors of the community.

  The meeting that night took a turn for the better. Faces that were forlorn now smiled, those who had spoken against the sheriff now sang his praises. But it was the acceptance of these strangers that was the most off-putting. Locals all pitched in, helping them unload the vehicles. Dan looked ecstatic. How could he not? These men had done more than offer hope, they’d redeemed him in the eyes of the doubters.

  Jessie wondered what that would cost him.

  An hour later, as the crowds thinned out and people turned to leave, Jessie wandered out to the ATVs to discuss with his brothers the way forward, and the question they’d all been chewing over.

  His mother had gone quiet. Thoughtful. That was always dangerous.

  She’d left early to get back to Miriam
but warned them not to start anything with the Stricklands. That wasn’t a problem as they were nowhere to be found. He figured they’d returned home to do exactly what they were doing — chewing it over.

  “You think it was them?” Zeke asked, sitting on an ATV, smoking.

  “Would make sense, right,” Lincoln replied. “Damn. Why didn’t we think of that?”

  “Because it requires brains, something you have little of,” Dylan added before playfully jabbing him. “What do you say, Jess?”

  He was lost in thought. He’d seen Nina that evening. She’d avoided him. Kept close to the Stricklands, eyed him from across the room. He knew he’d have to speak to her soon but after the death of her cousins, he wondered if she would listen.

  “Earth to Jess!”

  “What?”

  “What do you think?” Lincoln asked.

  “If it was them, then we have a huge challenge before us,” Jessie replied.

  Right then, a glow of headlights cut through the darkness, a truck approaching from the east down Redwood Highway. It veered into the parking lot and stopped several yards away behind many non-functioning vehicles. Jessie was thinking about what his mother might ask when they got home when Dylan nudged him. “Jess. Hey. Look.”

  He turned his head and stepping out of the vehicle was his brother Colby.

  But it wasn’t just that which caught his eye, it was the woman with him.

  “Is that…?”

  “Can’t be. She’s gone.”

  Zeke’s eyes widened. “Holy crap. Wait until the Stricklands see her.”

  She was the spitting image of Skye Strickland. Zeke hurried toward Colby, arms outstretched, embracing him and jumping around. “Colby. You sonofabitch!”

  “Hey, brother.”

  Lincoln and Dylan weren’t far behind, slapping him on the back, ruffling his hair, shaking hands, commenting how different he looked. Older. Time had changed them all. Colby looked over Dylan’s shoulder with a smile that slowly faded as Jessie approached. Their greeting was different but for good reason. His mind shifted to Skye. The past. The event that tore them apart. “Colby. Hey.”