*
Abbie heard a distant rumbling that made her pause. She placed her knife on the table and moved to the living room window, peering out through the sheer curtain. A flutter of panic raced around her chest when she saw a tank rolling down her street, followed by two military vehicles containing heavily-armed soldiers.
“What’s going on?” Kaitlyn asked from behind her.
Abbie didn’t dare speak as the tank approached her house.
“What are they doing?” Kaitlyn asked, coming to stand beside her.
The tank rolled by, along with the vehicles, and Abbie paid close attention to the weaponry the soldiers were equipped with.
“It’s a show of force,” she told Kaitlyn. “It’s a warning.”
“Because of what happened last night?”
Abbie nodded. “A soldier was killed, one was wounded. That won’t go unpunished.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. “I don’t know what they were thinking to attack the military like that.”
“You think Josh is in trouble?”
Abbie stepped away from the window and turned to Kaitlyn. “I don’t know, but you must never speak of what you heard last night to anyone.”
Kaitlyn stared back at her.
“Do you hear?” Abbie said firmly. “Don’t speak of it again, Kaitlyn. For all our sakes.”
Kaitlyn nodded and Abbie moved off to the kitchen, her stomach clenching tightly as she did.
*
Deputy Leo Cann entered Roy’s Hardware, located in the row of stores along the main street, just down from the interzone gate. He’d been told that he’d find Magnus Bracks here. The store looked empty. He figured not too many people were up for DIY under the circumstances. He looked over to the two cash registers and saw Langdon Swan manning one. Austin Saller stood beside him. He knew Austin a little from seeing him at the gym and, of course, had heard the recent rumors that he’d been pushing steroids there.
Leo approached and gave them a nod, eyeing the cabinet beside them that displayed an array of guns. He noted there were several gaps, however, and suddenly wondered what type of gun had been used by the people firing on the soldiers last night.
“Deputy,” Austin said, bringing his attention back to them.
“I was told I could find Magnus Bracks here,” he said glancing around the store. “You seen him?”
He heard the motor of Bracks’ electric wheelchair before he saw him.
“Deputy Cann,” Bracks greeted him, emerging from an aisle, “to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Mr. Bracks,” Leo greeted him. “I wondered if I could have a word with you?”
“Yes?” Bracks wheezed a little, then inhaled from his oxygen mask.
“Is there somewhere we can talk in private?” he asked, noticing that Austin and Langdon, now joined by gym buddy Trent Ford, were watching them.
“I’m in a store.” Magnus waved his hand about. “Where do you suggest we go?”
Leo surveyed the surrounds again, letting his eyes linger on Austin, Langdon and Trent, until they got the hint to at least pretend they were busy.
“Have you heard anything about that shooting last night?” he asked Bracks, placing his hands on his hips.
Bracks shook his head as Leo studied the seven stripes running down his large chin and jaw. “Only what I’ve seen on the news.”
“You’ve heard no talk on the street as to who might’ve been involved?”
“No.” His cloudy eyes stared lifelessly at Leo. “Should I have?”
Leo shrugged. “Well, you seem to be a man of the people, Mr. Bracks. You certainly had a few gathered around listening to what you had to say the other day. The day that kid was killed.” He made sure to look Bracks firmly in the eye as he said that last part. “I just thought maybe one of them might have let something slip about this shooting.”
Bracks stared back for a moment, then shook his head. “I’m afraid not, deputy, but I’ll certainly keep an ear to the ground. It’s a terrible thing, what’s been happening here of late. It must’ve been hard for you having to carry that dead boy’s body all that way to the doctor.”
Leo stared into Bracks’ cold eyes, trying to remove the image of the boy’s bloodied, limp body from his mind. He couldn’t help but swallow his feeling of guilt. The truth was, that boy’s face had haunted him ever since. If only they’d gotten down off that roof when he’d asked . . .
“You’re right, Mr. Bracks, things have been getting out of control of late,” he said, matching Bracks stare for stare. He remembered Earl’s words, that this wasn’t his fault. And Earl was right. It wasn’t. But it was his job to try and make sure it didn’t happen again. “I would really appreciate it, if you could use your connection with these people to help keep them calm. We don’t need any more trouble than we’ve already had. Between these welts and the . . .” Leo couldn’t bring himself to say the word aliens, “. . . whatever did this . . . there are bigger things we need to be dealing with here.”
“I agree, deputy,” Bracks said, a cold glint to his eyes now, as though he knew a secret. “I’ll keep my ears open for you. And I’ll do what I can to help protect the people of this zone.”
Leo regarded him, not exactly comfortable with Bracks’ words or the look in those lifeless, cloudy old eyes of his. He glanced over at Austin, Langdon and Trent, who gave him sullen, resentful looks in return.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Bracks. I’ll be sure to let the chief and mayor know of your compliance, helping to keep our town safe,” Leo said coolly.
Bracks gave a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Leo turned to the cash register. “I see some gaps in the cabinet,” he said to Langdon, motioning to the display of guns. “Know who bought them?”
Langdon pouted his lips and shrugged his shoulder. “Don’t know. They were sold when I wasn’t here.”
“People are arming themselves against the aliens,” Austin added.
Magnus nodded. “You can’t blame people for protecting themselves.”
“I guess not. But defense and attack are two very different things according to the law.” Leo said, before turning and walking away.
He left the store feeling anger swelling within, an aggressiveness that was alien to him. This wasn’t him, this wasn’t his style. He didn’t like it. He wished to God he could tear that barrier down and get things back to normal. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. He was trapped in the SZ, just like everyone else.
He got in his car and slammed the door, leaning his elbow up on the window frame and catching sight of his reflection in the side mirror. He stared at the single red welt running down his chin, then raised his fingers to rub it, as though hoping it would come off. It felt like nothing was there, as though it had been drawn on with one of his daughter’s crayons. He huffed loudly, looked over at the gray barrier fence separating him from normality, then put the car in gear, and headed off to do another patrol.
*
Mayor Russo hung up the phone and rubbed his forehead. He’d been on calls all morning, trying to keep the military at bay. Given their soldiers were attacked, they were insisting on stepping in and taking over in Victoryville. Russo had to utilize his smoothest persona with the state governor, among others, to allay everyone’s fears and keep martial law at bay. If he let the military in, Victoryville would no longer be his. And what the hell would that look like to his constituents? To the world? A mayor, and a chief, who can’t run their own town? In the end, he’d compromised by allowing the military to run some patrols, announcing to residents that a 9.00 p.m. to 6.00 a.m. curfew would be imposed. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to give whoever did this a little scare anyway. But at the end of the day, Victoryville was his. And he would make sure everyone knew that.
Even Bracks.
He thought briefly of Nicola, craving one of the neck massages she would give him when he was stressed
, but quickly pushed her from his mind. He had to focus. He had to remain in control. He needed to see Victoryville through this testing time. This was a massive challenge, but also a massive opportunity. If he kept this town together, it was a sure bet he would be a candidate for the next state election; maybe even oust the governor from his job. Hell, maybe he could even try for a federal position one day . . . but first, he had to make it through this.
Chief Blackstone had confirmed that the wounded soldier was awake after his surgery, but couldn’t identify his attackers. There were approximately five offenders, but their faces had been covered with bandanas and the like. Blackstone also confirmed that Deputy Cann had paid that visit to Magnus Bracks, who, according to the deputy, came across as nothing but helpful and obliging.
Of course he did, Russo seethed.
So Victoryville had been splashed all over the news again, for the wrong reasons. He’d been on calls with councillors and they were expressing doubt about his leadership, Patty Duke making no secret of the fact that she blamed him for the Clean Skin girl expulsion fiasco. If Russo wasn’t careful he would face a drubbing in the next election. Or the others might even plan a coup to remove him from office. His gut instinct, his gut reaction, was to go into a PR drive as though he were in election mode. He was making plans to pull out all the stops and make as many appearances as he could. Anything to show the people of Victoryville that he cared and that he would do what he could to stop the violence.
There was one small problem, though. That barricade. How could he keep all his constituents happy when he could only visit half of them? He could wear a biohazard suit, he supposed, but he felt as though that didn’t exactly give the right impression. I want to speak to you, constituents, but I don’t want to get too close and catch what you have!
He sighed and mentally shrugged. You’ll just have to work on one side at a time, he told himself. Half is better than none.
Besides, he thought, perhaps a little crudely, who knew whether the Striped Ones would still be here come the next election?
*
Abbie, by midmorning, and after several more drive-bys by the military to make their increased presence obvious, had grown concerned for Josh. She’d left Kaitlyn at home, and after receiving no response when she knocked on the Chalmer front door, walked down toward the town center looking for him. She kept seeing the expression on Josh’s face when he left her house the previous night. After what he’d seen, he was understandably upset. Should she have gone after him?
She instantly regretted having left her house when she saw the military presence at the interzone gate. The tank was parked there on full display. Several soldiers stood on lookout posts erected on the Clean Skin side of the barrier. She could see the barrier had been reinforced with covered scaffolding, to give it some height, a good twenty meters across either side of the gate. This gated section of the barrier along the main part of town was now a full-on wall, and several soldiers paced along the front, eyeing her carefully. Their weapons were angled toward the ground, but their hands were wrapped firmly around them, ready to raise them in an instant. One of their own had been killed, another injured. Revenge would be on their minds.
Unsurprisingly, there were no civilians standing around today. She moved her eyes away from the soldiers and turned around to view the roof where the boy, Chris, had been accidentally shot. Two deaths, now, in a matter of days.
She heard a car and turned around to see the deputy pulling up alongside her. He wound his window down.
“You alright, Abbie?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, “I’m just looking for a friend.”
The deputy nodded. “I saw you on the news.” He studied her a moment, his tired eyes dropping to the stripe on her chin. “It was a brave thing you did.” He glanced at the wall, then to her. “I wish there were more people like you around. Helping, instead of hindering.”
She thought of Magnus and Roy and the guns. “Me too.”
“So who are you looking for?” the deputy asked. “I’ll keep my eye out for them.”
Abbie suddenly wondered whether she should mention Josh, given what he’d become embroiled in. She glanced around the empty streets and at the gate, her mind roiling, then she looked back at Deputy Cann. She trusted him. He’d been trying to get those guys down from the roof. He cared. Maybe he could keep an eye on Josh too.
“Josh Chalmer,” she said. “He’s about five foot ten, shaggy blond hair, twenty-one years old.” She pointed down her street. “He lives opposite me. His family moved here a couple of weeks ago.”
She saw a look of sympathy cross the deputy’s face. “Bad timing.”
“Yeah.”
“When did you last see him?”
Abbie paused again, then said. “Last night. Late.”
The deputy regarded her a moment, then gave another nod. “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“No problem.” He gave a small smile back, then glanced around the streets. “Maybe you should go home and wait for him there.”
“I will,” she said. “I’m just going to take a look around the center of town, then I’ll head back.”
“Alright,” the deputy said, “stay safe, Abbie.”
“You too.”
She watched the deputy drive away, then swallowed hard as she moved toward the strip of stores on the right-hand side that made up the Striped Zone half of the main street. Most of the stores seemed to be closed, but she found a couple open—one being Roy’s Hardware. Given Josh worked there part-time, when he wasn’t working at the VAC, it was the most likely place to look. She hesitated, considered turning back like the deputy had suggested, but thoughts of Josh and what trouble he might be in made her muster the courage to continue. She forced herself to enter the store. If Josh wasn’t around, one of his co-workers might know where he’d gotten to.
Entering, she immediately saw Austin near one of the two counters talking with Langdon, Trent, and couple of younger guys. They stopped when they saw her. She glanced quickly down the aisles, saw no one else, so she decided to approach them.
“Hi,” she said to Austin, “have you seen Josh?”
Austin pursed his lips and shook his head.
Abbie studied him, trying to read any regret on his face from the previous night’s events. She merely saw a defiant shiftiness in his dark eyes. The other guys were the same.
“If you do, could you tell him I was looking for him, please.”
Austin shrugged his muscled shoulders. “Sure.”
The group stared at her silently. Their eyes were untrusting; the stripes running down their chins like exclamation marks of anger. She darted a glance to the gun cabinet beside them, saw it was near to empty. She felt uncomfortable, the way they looked at her, so she gave a quick nod, then swiftly departed.
Fearing Josh was in trouble, Abbie wanted to scour the streets to try and find him, but not knowing him that well, how could she gauge where he might hide at a time like this? Besides, the deputy was on it. He’d keep an eye out. She decided to return home, to Kaitlyn and Charlie, thinking it would be best that she remain where Josh could find her. If he wanted to find her, that is.
Sure enough, hours later, just as she was really starting to worry, Josh knocked on her door. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept.
“Deputy Cann said you were looking for me.”
“Are you okay?” she asked ushering him inside.
“Did you say anything to him?” Josh asked, he looked anxious, but a little vague at the same time. Spaced out.
“No, of course not. Are you okay?”
He didn’t answer, just slumped on her couch. Kaitlyn was sleeping upstairs with Charlie and the TV was off, so they sat in silence.
“Where have you been? Have you been home?” she eventually asked him.
Josh shook his head. “I don’t know,” he slurred with exhaustion.
Abbie looked at him as a strange feeling prickled inside. Something seemed off. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Josh stood and began to pace slowly, like he didn’t know what to do, or was maybe confused.
“Josh, what’s wrong?” Abbie stared at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He continued to walk around her living room; his eyes looked a little glazed, his face had fallen slack.
“Josh, are you okay?” She scrutinized him carefully, worried.
He kept pacing, shoulders slumped like he didn’t hear her. He was acting weird, his feet shuffling along the floor.
“Josh, are you drunk?”
He stopped moving then and just stood staring into space.
“Josh!” Abbie stood from the couch and moved over to him. “Are you on drugs on something?” She took him by the shoulders and turned him to face her. “Did you take something?”
He stared at her with a glazed expression, then moved into her kitchen. She followed him in, and he looked around, then moved back into her living room. He sat down on the couch, almost falling into it. He sat for a moment, swaying a little, then looked as though he was lying down, stretching out.
Except that, as she watched, she noticed the stretch didn’t retract. His body was stiff as a plank, and as she watched his face she saw his eyes roll back into his head.
“Josh?” She moved over to the couch.
It didn’t take her long to realize he was having a seizure of some kind. His stiff body gave way to uncontrollable shaking that sent Abbie’s eyes wide.
“Oh God,” she whispered, taking hold of his shoulders. “Josh. Josh!”
She went into action, quickly recalling her first aid training, a requirement to be a swimming coach. She lifted his legs up on the couch and rolled him on his side.
“Kaitlyn!” she yelled out. “Kaitlyn, wake up!” She turned back to Josh. “It’s okay,” she told him. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay . . . KAITLYN!”
She heard the rhythmic pattering of Kaitlyn running down the carpeted staircase and turned to face her.
The Time of the Stripes Page 20
