Tertiary Effects Series | Book 3 | Bite of Frost

by Allen, William

  “What possible reason could you have for inviting a bunch of strangers to live so close to you? Especially knowing we can’t pay rent on that kind of place. Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but this just sounds too go to be true. Does the house have power? Was it hit by a tornado?”

  His confusion seemed fueled with frustration as he tried to parcel out some deeper meaning to the offer. Some agenda that he wasn’t seeing.

  “Wil and I, along with Pat, who you all met, cleared the house and didn’t find any structural issues,” I explained. “Commercial power is still working for the time being, and the house is hooked up to a generator that is rated for the structure. You’ll lose the power at some point this winter, though, and there’s just the two fireplaces at the moment. We have plans for a small wood-burning stove, and I figure between the lot of us, we have the skills to fabricate it. Biggest problem is getting enough dry hardwood to get us through the winters.”

  “Winters? Don’t you mean winter?” Winnie asked, and the way she phrased the question made me wonder if she already knew something.

  “Ma’am, I may be mistaken, but some of us suspect that with all the ash and particulates in the air, we are looking at a long winter, followed by a very mild winter, and then another long winter after it.”

  “You’re talking about something like a nuclear winter, aren’t you?” Mac asked in turn, and I fought to keep the satisfied grin off my face. Not at the news, but at his quick wit.

  “Something like that. Remind me and I’ll send you guys the Powerpoint,” I quipped, before growing more serious. “I went to school to be a lawyer. I wasn’t planning on branching out into a career as a paramilitary, but that seems to be the growth area these days. Folks, I’ve had to fight, and kill, a lot of people since this mess started. Usually it was in defense of myself or others.”

  “What does usually mean, Mr. Hardin?” Winnie asked.

  I sighed, exchanging another glance with Wil. We’d all discussed this issue before, and I was happy that the family had nearly unanimously agreed to sharing just about everything that had gone on before. Well, with the adults, anyway. No reason to scare the kids, but if Shawn and Mac were going to be trusted to become part of their little mutual defense pact, then they needed to know backup was not only available, but on call. At one point I regretted shutting Charles out of that part of our planning, but in the end, I’d been vindicated.

  “You know when Wil said we were indisposed earlier?” I tracked the reactions of the seated people acknowledging the comment before continuing. “That’s because we were tracking down and eliminating part of a gang that was systematically ambushing trucks passing through our little town.”

  That set off a small explosion of voices as Shawn, Mac and Winnie all gave a variety of “what the hell”, but I noticed William was just giving me a knowing grin. Yep, he’d already figured it out. He must have realized our jobs as reserve deputies involved more than directing traffic after an accident or helping piled up sandbags around the Emergency Services building. The young man had barely said a word, but I was thinking he might be a hidden gem when all was said and done.

  Finally, Shawn gave me a ‘go ahead’ wave of his hand.

  “They did shoot at me,” I admitted, “and I had family in the truck, but when I saw…” I stopped, deciding to skip over finding the dead drivers. Either Shawn’s wife knew, or she didn’t, but I wasn’t going to disclose the details if Shawn was going to continue driving. “Anyway, that’s what I meant by usually in defense of ourselves or others.”

  “And what had Wil so embarrassed when you guys were here the other day?” Winnie asked, again dipping into deeper waters.

  I considered throwing Wil under the bus just to watch him squirm, but I was the bigger man and answered the question with a question of my own instead.

  “What? You really thought Sergeant Bailey and his two sidekicks had the skills to take out Sheriff Landshire and all those other crooked lawmen?” I asked, and then watched as jaws promptly started hitting the floors.

  “Now you know our biggest secret, Big Cat,” Wil continued in my place, his tone formal as he continued. “And that was in the defense of others, by the way. That asshat and his son Haines kidnapped two young women, and we got one away from Bailey. The other one was…well, let’s just say we got her away, too. If you accept our offer, you’ll get to meet both of them.”

  I let them chew on that before I picked up the sales pitch.

  “We make this offer because we need someone to maintain and protect that house. Not because we are picking up real estate like some robber barons, but because it represents a linchpin position connecting all the occupied houses on our road. We patrol, and do so aggressively, and we make use of force multipliers were we can, but better military minds than my own,” I hooked my thumb in Wil’s direction as I said this, “decided that having somebody already inside the house and ready to defend it is the best backup plan we can come up with.”

  Shawn rubbed his chin, and while he did so, Wil went over to the long canvas bag I’d hauled in and started laying carbines and pistols out on the plywood table. We’d brought four of the AR-15s we’d collected, either from our own stash or spoils from recent conflicts. They might not have been Colts, or Lewis Machine & Tool, but all of them passed Pat and Mike’s thorough inspections. Buffer springs replaced, trigger assemblies smoothed, and the whole nine yards. The pistols were nothing special, a pair of Glock 21s and a pair of Ruger 95s, but they were also in good condition. We included four magazines for each of the carbines and two spare magazines for the pistols, as well as a thousand rounds of 5.56, and five hundred each of .45 ACP and an equal amount in 9mm for the Rugers.

  “Whether you guys decide to move or not, we’ve decided to donate these to the cause,” I volunteered.

  “What cause is that?” Shawn asked, working the charging handle on one of the ARs like he was shaking hands with an old friend.

  “Cause we want your big ass to survive, old buddy,” Wil stage-whispered, and the room broke up with laughter this time. “Seriously, we can spare these, since they are mainly what we used to call battlefield pickups, and our group wants you guys to stay safe.”

  “Well, that’s all nice and handy, but you’re forgetting that I can’t own any firearms anymore,” Mac pointed out with a sigh. “I lost that right when I took the deal and the plea.”

  “In Louisiana, right?” I asked.

  “Yep,” Mac replied, looking away from the weapons on the table.

  “I’ll bet you nobody will say a thing,” I declared, then looked around the other folks in the room before continuing. “We aren’t a band of outlaws or domestic terrorists, folks. Just ordinary people trying to survive in extraordinary times. If it bothers you that much, come see me when the world settles down and I’ll see what I can do about getting your rights restored. I don’t know squat about Louisiana law, but I’m sure there’s some way to get that fixed so it doesn’t hang over you down the road, but for now? Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.”

  I heard an intake of breath, but nobody commented openly about the calculated vulgarity.

  “I hate to ask this, but how are the rest of your residents on this road of yours going to react to, well, people of color moving into the community?” Winnie asked cautiously, and I started to laugh but thought better of it. No sense in being a jerk, and she had a legitimate concern if she was thinking of taking her family away from what they knew. Yes, things were tense bordering on open violence in town, but they were learning the risks here.

  “I’m sorry if I wasn’t more clear. I started to say we were all family, I mean, my family and the Husbands, as well as the Lovetts, who are a nice couple but kind of clueless right now, but that’s not quite true. We have more folks living at our place and the old Bonner house next door, and the Fitts house is between the Husbands and the Lovetts. If you would feel more comfortable, you can look at the Bonner place instead, but it is smaller and a bit more
isolated.”

  “Bryan, you might as well say we are all family,” Wil interjected. “I think of Sally that way, as a big sister, and Beatrice is the grandmother to your whole crew. I’m only a Husband by marriage, but I’m closer to Wade and Ethan than any of my few remaining blood relatives.”

  “Now you sound like some kind of hippie, old buddy,” Shawn teased, as old friends are wont to do, and I hid my smile as I remembered how that felt.

  “Shawn, he’s serious. I don’t think there’s much prejudice in their whole crew, except against people who don’t work. We’re a motley bunch, like in that old Christmas TV special about Rudolph. Where was that place he went where all the defective toys went to live?”

  “Island of Misfit Toys,” I responded, then continued with the memory that popped into my head, “my boy loved that show.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had any children,” Winnie replied, curiosity getting the best of her.

  “I don’t. Not anymore. Why don’t you guys talk more with Wil about the offer,” I suggested, suddenly feeling exposed. “I’ll take up watch outside. Keep an eye on the neighbors.”

  Wil started to get up, but I gave him a tight grin and waved him back to his seat. I picked my way to the front door and let myself out. I really hoped this family took us up on the offer. They seemed like nice people, and we could use the help.

  Instead of lurking on the porch, I took a knee in the shadow of a straggly old fig tree in the corner of the small front yard. The naked branches did nothing to hide my presence, but the bulk of the twisted trunk concealed most of my torso from prying eyes. Judging from the upended bucket I found at the base of the tree, I wasn’t the first to think this spot offered a good perspective on the street in front of the house.

  I heard a shuffle from behind, and I looked back to see William had joined me in the shadow of the old tree.

  “Mind if I join you?” William whispered.

  “Sure, pull up a chair,” I replied, my voice soft but without the hard edges of a whisper.

  William had indeed brought his own plastic bucket to use as a seat, and he joined me in the quiet chill of the shaded post. We sat together in companionable silence for nearly five minutes before the young man spoke.

  “I’m sorry about your wife and your little boy.” William finally said. “Mr. Wil told us about what happened. You must have really loved them for it to still hurt after this much time.”

  I’s been correct in my assessment. William was sharp. I wondered who he was grieving for. I didn’t think it was his grandmother. Shawn’s mother might have been an important part of his family, but the pain I heard in his voice indicated something deeper.

  “Been nearly five years,” I explained. “Charlie would be almost your age now. I think Wil said you were sixteen?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “You known Wil long?”

  “Just all my life, it seems,” William admitted shyly. “I mean, we lived in Houston, but weekends we’d come up, or he and his wife would come down with their kids. Their kids are all younger than me, but Key and Courtney loved to play with them.”

  “Yeah, my nieces and nephews are about the same age. They all get together on the farm sometimes. I swear, it sounds like a thundering herd when they hit the kitchen for snacks.”

  William fell silent again for a few minutes after that, as if he was digesting my words.

  “You think we’ll be safe if we move? Out to this place you were talking about?”

  I turned, giving William my full attention.

  “I don’t know about safe, but I would say safer. At least out there, if you see your neighbors come running with guns, you’ll know they’re coming to help, not pile on.”

  “I don’t know that I can kill anybody, Mr. Hardin,” William admitted, his voice now so soft I could barely pick up his words.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I replied reassuringly. “We take security seriously. Pat and my brother Mike will make sure you get the training you need.”

  “But what if?”

  I stared into the young man’s earnest eyes as I finished answering his question.

  “If it ever comes up, you’ll be protecting your family. Just think about that fact if you ever need to pull the trigger. That’s what I always tell myself.”

  By the time Wil emerged from the Tyler house, William and I had talked a little more and I think a friendship had formed. At least, we were more comfortable in each other’s presence, and he’d confided in me that one of his concerns involved the safety of his girlfriend, who lived a few streets over with her mother and stepfather. New Albany wasn’t big enough to host any real gang presence, but a couple of the young men in the community had some definite gang tendencies. They sold drugs, engaged in petty theft, and tried to lean on the young women for favors. From what William indicated, their actions had become much more aggressive since Rockfall, and the rapid falloff of policing in the area.

  Sylvia’s parents weren’t much, at least according to William, and the girl often ate over at the Tyler’s house when she could slip away. William’s mom, Winnie, liked the girl and never made her feel like an outsider, again according to William, and his younger sisters adored having her around as a big sister.

  Sylvia was seventeen, and she had been on the school’s basketball team back when school was still a thing. I didn’t have any answers for William on that front, but I did reveal that the Fitts house had six or seven bedrooms plus a full basement, so there shouldn’t be any problem if the girl decided to go with them if they made the move.

  “Any advice, Mr. Hardin?”

  I thought on that question for a moment, then looked William square in his eyes. The teenager didn’t look away as I spoke.

  “If you can see yourself with her in twenty years, then get her stuff and move her in over here. Your parents will understand. Just treat her right and keep her safe.”

  “And what about these gangsters in the neighborhood?”

  I sighed.

  “Try to stay under the radar if you can. Always travel in groups, and stay armed. You need to kill any of them, do like I said. Don’t hesitate. If you need any help getting rid of the bodies, your father has my phone number.”

  I added a few more helpful suggestions after that. William nodded, and then our conversation died out as Wil and Shawn came out on the small porch, signaling it was time for us to go.

  Wil and I said our goodbyes and Shawn committed to bringing Winnie or Sharilyn out to at least look at the Fitts place on his next day off. That was the best I could hope for under the circumstances.

  “You think they’ll come to stay?” I asked as Wil began the drive back.

  “I think Winnie is already packing her bags,” Wil revealed. “Getting attacked in their own home was a wakeup call for her. Mac might take a little more persuasion, but Shawn will follow his wife. Sharilyn is the wild card, but I think she is close enough to her brother and sister-in-law to follow their lead unless Mac puts up a big fight. I think bringing them the weapons and not attaching any strings was a really good idea, Bryan.”

  “Well, let’s just hope they never have to use them in anger,” I replied, but I figured that was simply too much to ask for in this new world.

  “What did you and William talk about?”

  “He was telling me about his girlfriend. Then we talked about some of the young men in the neighborhood who were hassling her.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Make sure and bury them deep. Them shallow graves will come back to haunt you.”

  Wil laughed, but I could tell it was slightly strained. He knew I wasn’t kidding.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Monday morning found me dragging out of bed at an ungodly hour to take care of the milking before hitting the road to Jasper. We decided to take two vehicles, as this was the day our group had decided to have a little heart-to-heart with the Jasper County sheriff over our security concerns at the hospit
al.

  Sheriff Julius Stringer looked younger than his sixty years, but still carried the gravitas of a grandfather and a seasoned lawman. Tall and rather slender, with short-cut brown hair fading to steel gray, Sheriff Stringer cut an impressive figure that no doubt assisted his re-election campaign. He’d been sheriff a long time, and though he held down a desk, Sheriff Julie would never be mistaken for being ‘all hat and no horse’ as the saying went.

  We’d met more than once, both back when I was still a spout growing up in his county and later, after moving back to the area and abandoning the bright lights of Houston.

  “Damn, son, don’t you rattle with all that hardware?” Sheriff Stringer drawled as he shook my hand. “I’ll bet your back hurts at the end of the day if you hump all that gear for a solid eight hours.”

  I was dressed to kill, with the body armor, magazine bandolier vest and an M4 dangling from a sling at my side. In addition, I had the Springfield holstered on my hip and the Sig in the chest rig that Pat finally told me was a tanker holster attached at an angle across my chest. I also had spare magazine pouches attached to the vest, as well as a pair of knives, and a collapsible baton.

  “Keeps me comfy at night, Sheriff,” I replied, not impressed with his humor. “Enough people try to kill you, then you better figure on tooling up before the next dance.”

  In contrast, the Sheriff wore a holstered sidearm and probably a hideout on an ankle holster, but that was likely the extent of his gear. He was dressed in the dark brown uniform of his office and wore a battered gray Stetson that had seen better days. He’d worn the same style of cowboy hat since I’d first seen him on a field trip to visit the county offices when I was in high school.

  “I know things have gotten tough out there,” Sheriff Stringer confirmed, suddenly serious. “When I spoke with Sheriff Bastrop, he assured me he was sending his best men over. When I met with your brother and your brother-in-law, I knew Terry wasn’t kidding about getting his best to protect this place.”