Broken Justice

by Ralph Gibbs

  Danica stopped and turned to face the girl. “That’s her,” Danica said. “And you are?”

  “Tempest,” she answered.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Danica said. It was her turn to be stunned. “I ran into Toscana after you were kidnapped. We spent a good deal of time searching for you. Toscana, myself and Ruiz put on dresses and walked around trying to lure the kidnappers out.

  “Ruiz put on a dress?” Tempest said and then giggled at the thought of Ruiz in a dress.

  “He did.”

  “I bet he looked cute,” Tempest said.

  Danica shook her head. “No . . . No, he didn’t. We never ran into the kidnappers. Ruiz ran into someone that needed help, though.” Danica laughed at the memory. “That guy got quite the shock when he realized Ruiz was a guy in a dress. Still gives Ruiz looks, when he thinks no one is watching.”

  “They took us out of the city the same day they grabbed us,” Tempest said. “They weren’t even from around here. Just passing through.”

  “What about the other girl?” Danica asked. “Where is she?”

  “Dead,” Tempest said. “Jumped off a bridge. Killed herself.”

  “Shit,” Danica said. “I’m sorry to hear that. The kidnappers?”

  “Dead too,” Tempest said. “Murdered by a group of guys that wanted us more than they did. I think that’s why she jumped. The first kidnapping was traumatic enough. But a second one . . . Too much for her. Paris and her partner saved us. Then Franklin came along and saved us all.

  “Jesus,” Danica said. “Just how fucked up is it out there?”

  “It’s not as fucked up as it sounds,” Franklin said.

  “Yes, it is,” Paris said.

  “Since leaving Round Hill, we’ve only run into one problem,” Franklin argued. “Just about everyone else we’ve met has been civil.”

  “What was the one problem?” Danica asked.

  Everyone looked at Anita and Nate. Anita just saluted as Nate plastered on a fake smile, one that showed all teeth and was more of a teasing gesture than a real smile.

  “Robin Hood let his sister get kidnapped,” Paris said jerking a thumb at Nate.

  “Hey,” Nate said, almost sounding angry. “I didn’t fucking let anyone get kidnapped.”

  “In his defense, he killed two of them with a bow and arrow,” Franklin said.

  “Thank you,” Nate said.

  “And stop cussing,” Franklin added.

  “Yes sir,” Nate said chastened.

  “Franklin and I killed the other two,” Paris said.

  “Jesus,” Danica said. “You guys sound like your members of the Justice League.”

  “With a name like Justice, seems like you would fit right in,” Franklin said.

  As was usually the case when children were involved, the word spread, so when Danica and Franklin’s group reached the heart of the settlement, several women were standing on the sidewalk to inspect Anita and Nate as they passed by.

  “Bobby?” Angela Zinn asked.

  Danica shook her head, and Angela ran off crying as she did every time a child was discovered that was not Bobby.

  “Who’s Bobby?” Nate asked.

  “Her son. Danica said.”

  “Is he lost?” Nate asked. “I’m a good hunter. I could find him.”

  “He died in the plague, but she seems to have put it out of her mind, and no one has the heart to tell her otherwise.” Danica left unsaid that considering Angela’s mental state; she didn’t expect her to last the year. She was surprised every time she saw Angela but suspected that her delusion was keeping her alive. How could she kill herself if she thought Bobby would come home one day? It would be the day she realized the boy was never coming home that she needed to worry about. The problem was, no one knew when that would be but her.

  Despite her big speech about suicide, with Angela, it was only a matter of when and not if. Danica wasn’t even sure she would be missed. She barely socialized and only came out to sit on the porch when the kids were playing or when new kids were inbound.

  “That’s tragic,” Gunilla said.

  “And a tragedy that is being played out all over the world,” Franklin said.

  “Hey,” Paris said. “Stop honing. We talked about this.”

  “Pardon?” Danica said.

  “Nothing,” Franklin said. “Paris has trademarked her own personality disorder, and she doesn’t like it when you infringe. It’s just her way of delivering her version of a cease-and-desist order.”

  “Damn right,” Paris said. “I spent a lifetime perfecting it and no rank amateur will use it without paying the price.”

  When they returned to the house, Toscana was waiting for them on the stairs. As the group approached, she gasped and put a hand on her heart when the porch light revealed Tempest.

  “Tempest?” Toscana said, tears flowing freely. Tempest froze and then put her hand over her mouth as if trying to hold in her emotions. Failing, tears streamed down her face as she rushed into Toscana’s arms. She hugged Toscana tightly and then collapsed on the porch. Toscana followed her down, and Tempest wrapped her arms tightly around Toscana’s neck.

  “They raped me,” Tempest screamed into Toscana’s shoulder. “They raped me. Every night they raped me. I begged them to stop, but they wouldn’t.”

  “You’re safe now,” Toscana said, rocking Tempest. “You’re with me; you’re safe now. I promise. No one will hurt you again.”

  “They raped me. They raped me,” Tempest said over and over.

  “I know, honey, I know,” Toscana said, rocking her. Paris, Franklin, and Gunilla stood stunned at the sudden outburst. Anita started forward, but Paris stopped her.

  “Not now,” Paris whispered in her ear.

  Later, when it seemed Tempest was cried out, Toscana motioned for two women to come over and lead her inside.

  “These women are going to show you to my room,” Toscana said. Tempest nodded. “I’ll be up to see you shortly, and you and I can have a long talk. Toscana eyed the new arrivals after Tempest was inside. “Virginia?”

  Paris shook her head.

  “What—”

  “We can talk about it later,” Danica said. “Is Matthew still up?”

  “Of course,” Toscana said. “You know that boy won’t go to bed until he finds out who these people are. I got him in the kitchen helping me mix biscuit batter for tomorrow’s breakfast. It looks like I’ll have to mix a little more.”

  “Toscana,” Danica said. “I want you to meet FBI agent Paris . . .” she turned to Paris. “Ishida? Right?”

  “That’s right,” Paris said.

  “Paris Ishida.” She turned to Gunilla and then back to Paris. “Paris, can you give the rest of the introductions? I think it will go faster.”

  “This is Dr. Gunilla Olofsson, Nate, and Anita Eckhart and this strapping, yet dubious-looking, young gentlemen is Franklin Turnipseed,” Paris said.

  “Matthew’s father,” Danica added. A look of shock and grief quickly passed over Toscana. She hid her reaction quickly and smiled.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Turnipseed,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “Just Franklin,” he said, taking her hand in his.

  “I know Matthew will be glad to see you. Please come in. I’ll fetch him.”

  “We have guests, Matthew,” Toscana said as she entered the house. Matthew came out of the kitchen, slowly feeling his way. He was covered in flour. Using the apron, he wiped his hands and held one out.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Matthew said.

  Franklin rushed forward without hesitation and grasped Matthew’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” Franklin said.

  Matthew paused and cocked his head, and Danica was struck by how much he looked like a puppy struggling to figure out a puzzling sound.

  “I know you,” he whispered.

  Franklin knelt in front of him and put his hands on his shoulders, tears streaking his face.
Gunilla and Paris were also tearing up.

  “Yes, you do, Matt,” Franklin said.

  “Dad? Dad!” he yelled, throwing himself into Franklin’s arms. They said nothing for a few moments. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Mom—”

  “I know. Danica told me.”

  Matthew hugged his father tighter. “I couldn’t do anything—”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. They were older and stronger than you.”

  “Yeah, silly,” Anita said. “You’re seven.”

  “Eight,” Matthew corrected as he pulled away from his father and wiped his eyes.

  “All you would have done was gotten yourself killed and then you wouldn’t have gotten to see your father,” Anita said.

  “Matt, I want you to meet Anita,” Franklin said.

  “Hello,” she said, coming over and hugging Matthew as if she’d known him all his life. After that, Franklin made the introductions again. An hour later, he made them again when the group got together with Major Barrette and Greg Fulton for a late coffee.

  “Paris, Franklin, I’d like you to meet Major Barrette and Greg Fulton,” Danica said. “They’re from Atlanta.” A look passed between Franklin and Paris that did not go unnoticed by Major Barrette.

  “I hope you don’t believe every rumor you hear,” the major said.

  “I’ve heard a lot,” Franklin said.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Major Barrette said.

  “Like how you’re lynching people,” Franklin said.

  “That’s true,” Major Barrette said. “Although I’d describe it as more like hanging. We’re hanging thieves, murderers and rapists. Surely, you can appreciate that.”

  Franklin was about to say something else, but Greg interrupted him. “I’d like to check on that arm,” Greg said, moving over to Danica as he spotted a trickle of blood.

  “I noticed the arm earlier,” Gunilla said, putting down her sweet tea. She wasn’t a fan of coffee. “The wound looks fresh. What happened?”

  “Knife fight,” Danica said.

  “Let me see it,” Gunilla said in a voice that demanded obedience. Gunilla lifted Danica’s arm and felt around the wound.

  “I stitched it up,” Greg said, almost defensively.

  “How deep was it?” Gunilla asked.

  “The blade touched bone,” Greg said.

  “I see,” Gunilla said as she began to unwrap the bandage.

  “What are you doing?” Danica asked.

  “Inspecting the wound,” Gunilla said.

  Danica looked over Gunilla’s shoulder at Franklin. “Is she always like this?”

  “Yes,” Franklin and Paris said together.

  “You have medical training?” Major Barrette asked.

  “I’m a doctor,” Gunilla said.

  “What kind of training?” he asked.

  “Lots,” she answered curtly. “This is a nice stitching job.”

  “Thank you,” Greg said.

  “Did you stitch up the muscle?” Gunilla asked.

  “She wouldn’t let me give her anything for the pain, so I decided not to.”

  “Miss Justice,” Gunilla said. “As much as it pains me to rip out this wonderful stitching job, I’m going to have to do so in order to stitch the muscle together.”

  “Why can’t you just leave it like this?” Danica asked.

  “Because it will take twice as long to heal, and you might not be able to use your hand properly if I don’t,” Gunilla said. “Nate, get my bag. What pain meds do you have?” she asked Greg.

  “Just morphine,” Greg said.

  “I’m not taking any pain meds,” Danica protested.

  “Don’t be silly,” Gunilla said. “As soon as I jab a needle in your arm, you’ll scream bloody murder and scare the children.” Without another word, Gunilla set to work. When it was done, Franklin and Greg carried Danica to her bedroom.

  “It’s getting late,” Toscana said. “Why don’t we get together in the morning over breakfast? Major, the boys, should be back with the deer shortly. The entire community is looking forward to your lesson.”

  “We look forward to teaching you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m also looking forward to sleeping in a bed. I think if it wasn’t for my discipline, and your wonderful invitation, I’d sleep in tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll hold back a plate for you, if you do,” Toscana said.

  “Thank you and goodnight,” Major Barrette said.

  Paris stretched and yawned. “I think turning in sounds like a good idea, but I want that shower first.”

  “I’ll show you where you’re staying, and I’ll have someone bring over Matthew’s stuff,” Toscana said.

  “What?” Matthew said. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “Matthew, you need to be with your father,” Toscana said.

  Franklin was heartbroken. Up until this moment, he thought everything was okay between the two of them. Franklin feared that Matthew wouldn’t remember him, but now he feared he remembered too much. Matthew had never known him sober.

  “It’s okay,” Franklin said. “He can stay here.”

  “He needs to be with his father, and his father needs to be with him,” Toscana said stubbornly. “You didn’t come all this way to be separated.”

  Franklin knelt in front of his son. “Matthew, I know I was never a good father to you, but I’ve changed. I’m not the man I was. I haven’t touched a drink since . . .”

  “Since you killed those people?” Matthew finished for him.

  “Yes,” Franklin said, almost whispering.

  “Matthew, I didn’t know your father before, but I know him now,” Paris said. “When we first met him, he saved me, Gunilla and several others from some bad people that did bad things. He helped me rescue Anita too. He seems to be a good man, and, at least in my eyes, he has atoned for some of the wrongs of his past.”

  “I know,” Matthew said. “Mom used to talk about him and tell me what he was like when they first met. She told me the war changed you.”

  Franklin was floored. He thought Erica cursed the day they met. Their breakup, coming shortly after the accident, wasn’t amicable. She went so far as to take out a restraining order against him. It was the best thing she could have done. Killing the police officer and his family wasn’t enough to stop him from drinking. It took the loss of his family for that, and only after he went on a three-day binge.

  “She was right, but that was just an excuse,” Franklin said. “So, I understand if you don’t want to be around me just yet.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “It’s not?”

  “I’m used to my room. I don’t run into anything anymore. I know where everything is. If I go somewhere else, I’ll be helpless again.”

  “I understand,” Franklin said. “In that case, you should stay here.”

  “I have a better idea,” Toscana said. “Why don’t you and your girlfriend stay here.

  “What?” Paris said, spitting out her coffee. “We’re not together.”

  “I didn’t think you were,” Toscana said. “I thought he was with the doctor. Her being pregnant and all.” If Paris had taken another sip of coffee, she would have spit it out again.

  “She’s not pregnant,” Paris said, laughing.

  “How did you know?” Gunilla asked, shocked.

  Paris jumped up. “Holy shit. You’re pregnant? Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Your days on the road have leaned you up,” Toscana said. “You’ve lost weight in your upper body. Your shirt barely fits you, but your pants are still tight, almost too tight. Your body has been compensating to feed the child inside you. Besides, you keep placing your hand on your stomach, like you’re trying to shield the baby from harm.”

  “Why keep it to yourself,” Paris said.

  “I didn’t want you to slow down because of me,” Gunilla said.

  Pa
ris walked over and took Gunilla’s hands. “You should have told us,” she said. She leaned in and kissed her on the cheek and hugged her. “Congratulations. And when I see Carl, I’m going to punch him in the dick.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Paris waited until Gunilla was asleep before slipping out. Tonight, she skipped her usual professional look for something less noticeable but equally dark. Keeping up her professional appearance was hard on the road, but in every sizable town they had passed, she found suitable clothing. Cleveland had always drummed into her the need to look presentable.

  “A well-dressed agent has more respect for themselves,” Cleveland said. “They also appear more formidable to the enemy. Being well-dressed is a type of force unto itself. There’s a reason con artists don’t wear shorts and flip-flops when they’re trying to sell you snake oil.”

  “Unless they are trying to sell you a beach house,” she quipped back.

  “Yes, yes,” he said. “Now shut up.”

  Maintaining her professional appearance was her way to honor Cleveland for his sacrifice.

  On the outskirts of the housing complex, she slipped by one sentry and then, on a whim, doubled around until she found the other. In the morning, she would let Danica know that her sentries needed supervision and a lot of training. One was asleep, and the other was reading a book. Paris thought about going up and punching them in the nose to prove a point but decided against it. Maybe on her way back.

  Locating a convenience store, she broke in and found an old-fashioned business directory and map, located a computer store and then sighed heavily in disappointment. It had to be an hour on foot. So much for a decent night’s sleep. Ready for disappointment, she was pleasantly surprised to find the store barely touched. There was some damage and looting, but most of the store remained intact. At the end of humanity, people must have realized computers weren’t necessary for survival. They were mistaken.

  A brief search yielded a handful of satellite air cards. They were what she had come out here to find. Laptops she could find anywhere, but a device that allowed her to access communication satellites in orbit she could not. That required a large computer box store where they carried a large assortment of just about everything computer related. She located several display laptops with remaining battery power and set them up on a nearby countertop. Although the Internet was down, the Department of Defense maintained several communication satellites she could utilize to communicate with someone in the government. Once the connection was made, she logged into her email account and sent her message.