Tertiary Effects Series | Book 1 | Rockfall

by Allen, William

  Sally laughed. A big, country girl laugh that eased the lines in her face and cut years off her apparent age, offering a glimpse of the girl she’d been when she’d enlisted in the Air Force over twenty-five years ago. Sally might never have been classified as beautiful, but I could tell she’d been pretty in that girl-next-door mold, before sun and toil, and the passage of time, had taken their toll.

  “Mel just cut my hours at the restaurant and everybody else is laying off, but here you are, Mr. Hardin, hiring at your office?”

  “Not in town,” I replied with a grin of my own. “We’re expanding out at the farm, and I was looking for someone to help with the greenhouse.” I lowered my voice, looking away as I continued. “Offer stands for Billy too, if he’s interested. I could use a steady hand with the stock, and I was thinking of adding a few more horses.”

  “What kind of wage are we talking about?”

  “Not much over minimum wage, and that’ll depend on what the market does. However, it will include a place to stay, three meals a day, though you might be asked to help with the preparation, and although it might get cramped, a seat for both of you in our tornado shelter,” I added the last part with a glance to the heavens, which had continued to darken with a roil of rain-fat clouds as we spoke. The morning had started off clear and warm, but as the hours passed, the effects of the tropical storm brewing off the coast made headway in overpowering the cloudless sky.

  Catching my look to the uneasy heavens, Sally’s expression closed up.

  “I’ll not be taking your charity, Mr. Hardin.” Sally Dwyer’s clipped tone reminded me that she needed to be handled just so.

  “It’s not charity, Mrs. Dwyer. We need the extra hands, and I saw how well your son did with the horses last year at the stock show, and especially at the rodeo,” I replied reasonably. “I have a large basement area converted to a storm shelter, and though not set up for long-term habitation, the shelter has room for two more. Yes, quarters are tight at the house, but you and Billy are welcomed to live in the dorm rooms we’ve set up. I sleep in the men’s dorm right now, just like Billy would be, and you’d have a bed in the ladies dorm. Of course, that’s only temporary while we finish reclaiming the old Bonner place, then we can see about moving some folks in over there.”

  “Assuming it survives,” Sally added.

  “Assuming it survives,” I replied evenly. “This is not charity, Mrs. Dwyer. I had another reason for wanting to seek out your help, ma’am. It involves something you said to me once when we were talking about setting up your estate.”

  “Please, call me Sally, and what could I have said that caught your attention after all this time?”

  “Okay, Sally, cards on the table,” I continued, lowering my voice. “You told me about your service, and you mentioned in passing that you received the Bronze Star for something that happened in the desert, ‘long ago and far away’ as you put it. That always stuck with me, since you don’t see female Air Force personnel getting those kinds of decorations every day. So I looked it up.”

  “I can’t believe those news articles are even still available with this new Netfeed thing,” Sally replied, her voice as low as my own now.

  “Did it before, back when Google still worked,” I admitted. “The thing is, Sally, I know things are bad now, and the conditions are only going to get worse. Like you, I’ve lost people close to me, and also like you, I worry about those I have left. I need people who I can trust with a gun to watch my back. People who won’t hesitate and dither when it comes time to defend ourselves and our loved ones.”

  “That simple? You looking to recruit gun hands, and you must have gone pretty far down your list to get to an old lady like me, right?”

  I gave her a jagged, mirthless smile before replying, my voice gone cold.

  “Not looking for thugs or gunslingers, necessarily. Just people, man or woman, who I know will pull the trigger when the time comes. I’m not going to sugar-coat it: I killed these men today and my only concern was for my lug of a brother over there. No pity, no remorse. I need more people like that, but people we can trust at the farm.”

  Sally Dwyer studied me for a time, her eyes neither judging or sympathetic.

  “You really think these are some kind of End Times? Or are you like Noah, before the flood?”

  I shook my head before trying to answer.

  “Not trying to put any religious angle on things. I’m looking at history here when I say, I believe a lot of folks are going to starve to death in the coming months and years. And many more are going to die in violence. That tidal wave that hit the West Coast? That was only the result of something worse happening in the Pacific, and the repercussions are still unfolding.”

  Seeing Sally Dwyer’s questioning look, I briefly explained how Mike had gotten advanced warning, and how everything that followed could be explained by a massive meteor impact. Sally might not have gone far in school after graduating from New Albany High, but she was sharp, and grasped the meaning of what I said immediately.

  “Are we going out like the dinosaurs?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” I replied solemnly, giving a long pause before continuing. “By everything we can judge, this was smaller. The main problem is, we have all this fragile infrastructure to keep our society going. Honestly, I don’t know what else is going to happen, but I have a feeling Hurricane Debbie is just the start of our challenges if we’re going to survive here, long term.”

  As if some higher power had been listening, the skies opened up with a spitting rain shower before the last words even left my lips. I watched Sally as she mulled over my words, and I saw the headshake that signified a decision had been made.

  “All right, Mr. Hardin, you have a deal. I was here to pick up Billy anyway, so we’ll just swing by the house and start packing up a few things. You got room for our furniture and things?”

  As she spoke, we both instinctively stepped back, seeking the shelter of the store’s overhanging roof that extended a few feet past the edge of the building.

  “Please, call me Bryan, and yes, we should have the space, but it’ll be in one of the barns. Sealed up out of the elements and pest-free, but not sure it’ll survive a tornado. How about you pick up what you need, and we’ll come over tomorrow and load the rest up in our horse trailer. It’s covered and we can hang tarps on the sides to keep the rain off.”

  “Moved that way more than once already,” Sally admitted. “All right, I’ll go get Billy and explain things to him. My boy ain’t dumb,” Sally added defensively, and I nodded back.

  “I remember from when you brought Billy with you to see me before, and from visiting with him here. Don’t worry, ma’am, we’ll treat him right.”

  Down Syndrome had a sliding scale, after all, and I would classify Billy as highly-functional in many ways. He was different though, and I remember well enough my own passage through my teen years to recall how much being different could stigmatize a child. Billy Dwyer might be nineteen years of age, but I estimated his emotional maturity as that of a six or seven-year-old, and intellectually, not much older than that. However, he was quick to pick up things if showed the right way, and he was gentle with animals and children. But let me be honest, what I knew about caring for a young man with Down Syndrome could be summed up in the little research I’d done while assisting Sally Dwyer in setting up her estate. That amounted to, not much. I had a thought, turned it over in my head, and made sure I phrased it properly.

  “Sally, are you or Billy taking any prescription medications? I just realized we might have a problem if you run out.”

  Sally cocked her head before answering.

  “Just some calcium supplements, but nice to see you’re thinking ahead. Your sister-in-law the nurse already out there?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And unless I miss my guess, we’ll get to see her in a few minutes after the lieutenant finishes up his interrogation of Mike.”

  Sally gave me another curious
look, and I nodded to the parking lot. “I see her SUV out there. Somebody must have called. She’s not going to be happy about Mike getting himself hurt.”

  Looking over at my brother and the investigator, also sheltering under the overhang of the feed store, I could tell they were nearly done. Surprisingly, the lieutenant stuck out his hand and Mike shook it without hesitation. I was half-expecting to see the cop magically produce a set of handcuffs, but that didn’t happen at all.

  “Looks like my turn,” I observed. “Forecast says we’ve got another twenty-four hours before this hurricane starts coming ashore, so I’ll be over at your place tomorrow morning early. Say seven-thirty?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Sally agreed.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Lieutenant Bastrop seemed distracted as he took my statement, leading me quickly through the events and essentially getting me to say that the truckload of banditos represented an existential threat to the entire county. I was puzzled, but the man didn’t leave me wondering long.

  “Sorry to rush you, but two things you need to know. First, my wife was in Woodshire’s when this happened, loading up supplies for our evacuation. She’s physically uninjured, but rattled. That’s the second thing, since the sheriff has announced that not all of the deputies are going to be allowed to use the department’s tornado shelter, I need to get my family out of town immediately.”

  “Uh, what the fuck, Lieutenant?” I replied, some of my dumb leaking past the filters I normally kept in place.

  “They’re going by seniority with the department, not rank,” Bastrop explained, “and I’m one of the more recent hires. Not that rank should be used either.” Then he lowered his voice, grumbling, “That Emergency Management Facility the county built is a real bunker, and it’s rated for seventy-five people for thirty days. If the sheriff doesn’t have room for all his deputies and the emergency services people, then who’s he inviting into the place?”

  “Don’t the county judge or the commissioners have a say?” I asked, understanding dawning at the investigator’s words.

  Bastrop shrugged, and I could read the combination of frustration, fear, and helplessness flicker across his features. Then I had a thought.

  “Where are you headed?”

  “Sister has a place up in Corsicana, if we can get there. We’ll take the back roads, but it’ll still probably take seven or eight hours the way this evacuation is shaping up.”

  I nodded along, then gave my own suggestion.

  “Why don’t you gather the other deputies being locked out, and the city police and other emergency services people, and head for the old high school gym? The Co-Op is using it to shelter their repair crews. Talk to Walter Pine in operations. I’m sure they would appreciate having you guys on hand to provide security and care for whatever injuries come their way.”

  “First I’m hearing of this,” Lieutenant Bastrop admitted as he whistled through his teeth, “but it sounds like a good idea. You lot going to be okay on your farm? Mike said you have a tornado shelter, but he made it sound like the bodies are going to be packed pretty tight.”

  “As long as everybody gets a shower beforehand, and uses deodorant, we should be fine,” I quipped, trying to add a moment of levity to the tense situation, and then a sudden thought struck me.

  “I didn’t think to ask before, but do you have any ID on these guys? I never got a good look at them, and like I said, things were happening so fast.”

  “You know, the people I talked to who saw everything from inside the store said you were as cool as a cucumber,” Lieutenant Bastrop observed, and for some reason, probably his tone, I could tell he wasn’t trying to trap me with anything.

  “Oh, I was scared to death,” I assured the man. “People were shooting at me, that squealing of the grinding axle was driving me up the wall, and my brother was next to me, using a pistol in a rifle fight. I was too frightened to do anything except keep pulling the trigger. At the time, I didn’t even know about the shooting at the grocery store, or the bank robbery, but they still had me quaking in my boots.”

  “Uh-huh,” Bastrop replied, and he paused to glance down at his 3x5 notebook before continuing. “We don’t have official identification yet, but that runner I just got from the fire department boys noted down their driver’s licenses. I’m supposed to hold onto this information anyway, but what the heck. With that idea about the school shelter, let’s say I owe you one.”

  With that, Bastrop rattled off three names that I didn’t recognize, and the fourth one made me lock my knees. The lieutenant caught my reaction and he didn’t have to say a word.

  “That guy you just named, Marcus Avery Slocumb. I had a run-in with him a few days ago at Stanton Arms. You know my neighbor Wade Husband?”

  Lieutenant Bastrop grunted his affirmative, still watching me.

  “This lady named Nancy Prentiss is his sister-in-law. I was helping her move after young Marcus and his posse tried to rape her and her twelve-year-old daughter. Marky didn’t take too well to this action, and he tried to stop her from leaving.”

  Some naïve people think confession is good for the soul. I was just getting these facts out there at the beginning, so in the event Lieutenant Bastrop ever got around to digging into Marky’s background, I was already on record with the attempted attack at the apartment. I hadn’t set out to kill Marky today, and I hadn’t even recognized him in the attack, but the last thing I wanted was for the lieutenant to start looking for things like motive or opportunity.

  So, I explained everything to Lieutenant Bastrop and waited.

  “Well, I guess that old saying is true,” Bastrop observed after I’d finished my explanation.

  “What’s that?”

  “Karma’s a bitch. Now, go home and let us deal with this. And, Bryan?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant?”

  “Keep your nose clean. I don’t know why, and I probably don’t want to know, but the sheriff has taken a disliking to you. He was pissed when you got involved in that mess with the clinic, and even more upset when he couldn’t charge you.”

  “I got that impression,” I allowed before Bastrop continued.

  “With everything else that’s going on, he might not even read my report of this altercation for several days. Him being busy hunkering down and all. So, I’m going to walk a copy of said report over to the prosecutor today and see what he says.”

  “Won’t that get you in a bind?”

  “Might,” he agreed evenly, “but my wife is four months pregnant with our second child, and she was on the floor trying to avoid a bullet from one of those assholes at the grocery store. Plus, after being shut out of the shelter and being left to find our own accommodations, I don’t think the sheriff is planning on inviting me over for cocktails any time soon.”

  With that, Lieutenant Bastrop took his leave with a hearty handshake. I shook my head at the day’s events and stepped back out into the worsening rain. Spotting the farm truck still parked at an angle in the lot, I looked over just in time to see Marta smack her husband on his good arm before grabbing him in a smothering embrace. Karma, indeed.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “Hey, Pat,” I said as soon as I walked into the kitchen, acting totally unsurprised at the sight of my brother-in-law appearing out of thin air.

  Patrick Perkins, sitting at the kitchen table, flanked by his wife and children, gave me a short wave and went back to fiddling with some piece of electrical equipment spread out on a gray dropcloth. The device looked like some type of night vision gear with a pair of normal-looking lenses topped with two stubby tubes that sat above and at an angle to the pair of lenses. He was using a pair of tiny tools that resembled forceps and from the look of concentration on his face, Pat wasn’t just playing a game of Operation with his kids.

  “ATN PS15?” Mike asked as Marta led him into the house.

  “Yeah, just switching over to AA batteries and trying to keep the encrypted earpiece from fritzing,” Pat explaine
d. “Just about got it, then I can check your wound.”

  “It’s fine,” Mike nearly growled, already having experienced his wife’s ‘backseat nursing’ when she’d finished chewing him out. I had to fight back a laugh as first Nikki and then Beatrice, who’d wandered in at the sound of the kitchen door opening, no doubt, wanted to make a fuss over the injury.

  “Dang, people, not like I haven’t been shot before,” Mike continued to grouse, and that got a nervous laugh from the adults and curious looks from the children. Looking around, Mike gave a shrug when he noticed the absence of his own little rug rats. Beatrice caught her son-in-law’s expression and nodded to the back of the house.

  “I’ve got them busy repotting the sprouts,” Bea explained. “Well, Tamara’s working, but I think Tommy is just humoring his grandma.”

  “Anybody hear from Mary and Charles?” I asked, hoping for good news but braced for disappointment.

  “I got a call from Mary just before Pat showed up,” Nikki said, and her smile was enough to let me know the two were on their way.

  “Any trouble?”

  “The traffic is terrible, but we already knew that. They’re expecting to get in some time tonight.”

  “Roads look pretty packed,” Patrick confirmed. “Of course, I was heading more against traffic, so I made better time.”

  “Any trouble getting off work?” I asked carefully, cutting my eyes to the kids as I spoke. If Pat had needed to leave bodies behind to get free, I wasn’t going to judge, but I knew he wouldn’t say anything in front of his children.

  “Nah, they were so busy trying to mobilize the Guard and get the State Emergency Management centers set up, the bosses kind of forgot about the peons locked up in their fire stations. Couple of us with families on the outside just kind of walked off the job last night.”

  Since I presumed they had armed guards at the doors, I expected there was more to the story, but again, little ears were listening so I let it go for later.