THE ALEX FLETCHER BOXSET: Books 1-5

by Steven Konkoly

  “What’s going on?”

  “I feel like we’re back on Durham Road during the pandemic. Trapped, just waiting for the inevitable.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m feeling the same way, but on a bigger scale.”

  “My perspective is confined to the house. I’m afraid to step outside. We’re all afraid.”

  “I know we’re safe here, honey. I wouldn’t stay if I didn’t believe that,” he said, hesitating to continue.

  “But what?”

  “We met with the RRZ Authority today,” he said and shook his head. “If Eli Russell blows up their headquarters compound, along with everyone inside, the RRZ might have a chance.”

  “Don’t say that. They left behind families and other responsibilities for this. They’re just like the rest of us,” she said.

  “I know. I know,” he mumbled. “But something’s off with the overall picture. Grady said something that really got me thinking. The RRZ Authority arrived thinking all the initial work had been finished, or should be. Seems like one hell of a disconnect from reality.”

  “Maybe they weren’t getting reports from the ground units,” said Kate.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me given the chaos of assembling the RRZ teams, but that doesn’t ease my worries. How could anyone with any experience in disaster-response planning think that a system of FEMA camps designed to handle hundreds of thousands of displaced New Englanders would be up and running sixteen days after an EMP attack? Not to mention the sheer impossibility of executing a camp structure that enormous. I don’t care how many warehouses they have stocked with dehydrated food and propane heaters. This isn’t going to work.”

  “What are they supposed to do? Say fuck it and stay home?”

  “At least pretend not to be surprised when an understaffed National Guard engineering battalion can’t build forty camps, each designed to hold several thousand refugees, in sixteen days. That’s all.”

  “And that would make you happy?” she asked, hoping his rant was over.

  “No. I’d still be wondering if trying to stay here long term was a mistake.”

  “Even if you find and kill Eli?”

  “Even if we hunt down and kill everyone in his militia. A million-plus people are streaming toward the Maine border. The only thing standing between them and us are about four thousand soldiers and a few easily fordable rivers. Once the refugees start trying to cross en masse, the whole thing will fall apart, leaving us to fend for ourselves.”

  “Unless you stay with the Marines. We can move with the battalion.”

  “And live where? In a tent next to the battalion’s hangar? Take over someone’s house?”

  “I’m just thinking aloud. Trying to make this work,” said Kate.

  “I know you are. I’m sorry. We don’t have to make this decision yet. One step at a time. What’s the consensus in the house?”

  “The Walkers want out of here pretty badly. I pulled the Eli card to keep them in place until you got back,” said Kate.

  “I can’t send any of the Marines north. All of the vehicles and satellite-enabled radios, like this one,” he said, tapping his ROTAC, “can be tracked by the RRZ and Homeland. That’s the other thing that has me skeptical. There’s a disturbing Big Brother aspect to the way Homeland has been running things.”

  “They can’t drive up by themselves. Three of the four adults can’t drive. The kids have their licenses. I mean, maybe—”

  “I have an idea,” said Alex.

  “I don’t want you out there in one of those cars,” said Kate.

  “Something different. Tell Dad to get Harrison Campbell on the HAM radio. I’ll be right inside. I need to check on something,” he said, kissing her.

  “Wait. What’s the plan?” she said, pulling at his arm.

  “Something I should have thought of earlier.”

  Chapter 31

  EVENT +18 Days

  Forward Operating Base “Lakeside”

  Regional Recovery Zone 1

  Alex opened the door for Harrison Campbell and Gary Powers, motioning for them to step inside. The two men stopped a few feet into Alex’s mudroom, examining the walls. Campbell extended his hand to the doorframe next to Alex, putting his finger through one of the bullet holes.

  “Good heavens. I had no idea it was this bad,” he said, shaking his head.

  “It gets worse in the kitchen. We killed twenty-nine of Eli’s men, most of them trying to rush the house. He probably escaped with a half dozen.”

  “Thirty-six shooters? All with semiautomatics? I don’t see how any of you survived this,” Campbell said, walking into the bathroom to inspect the sandbag position. “Steel reinforced. Clever.”

  “Sheet metal. Didn’t stop the .308s.”

  “Good thing he never put the thirty-cal into action against you. Would have sawed right through the house, sheet metal and all.”

  “We got lucky with that,” said Alex. “It was bad enough with a squad peppering us from the trees behind the house. In a strange sense, Eli’s tactics kept us in the game long enough to repel his final attack. He went for a two-pronged assault. One squad from the eastern tree line, another from the barn. If he’d added one of those squads to the base of fire pouring into the back of the house, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. The volume of fire would have been overwhelming. We could barely move around with twelve men emptying magazines into the house.”

  “Looks like you have some work ahead of you,” said Campbell.

  “New toilet?” said Powers. “No way the other one survived.”

  “Priorities. Grabbed two from the Home Store. Not much demand for plumbing items these days,” said Alex.

  “Basic, yet inventive. Not a bad idea for the house and barn,” said Powers, patting the sandbags.

  “And most importantly, effective. The only improvement I’d make is to double up on the sheet metal. A few of the positions experienced breakthrough. Step this way, and I’ll introduce you to the walking wounded,” he said, guiding them through the kitchen to the great room.

  Charlie tried to stand up as they approached.

  “Charlie, save your strength. You’ll need it to deal with Linda during the ride,” he said, winking.

  “I have to be in the same car?” said Linda.

  “Funny.”

  “Everyone, this is Harrison Campbell, founder of the York County Readiness Brigade, and his training officer, Gary Powers. They’ll lead the convoy north, along with yours truly,” said Alex.

  The room broke into a disharmony of questions.

  “I’ll explain the details in a moment. From left to right, we have Charlie and Linda Thornton, both wounded in the attack. Charlie’s close to walking again, but Linda has a ways to go. She needs surgery, which I don’t see happening any time soon. Need to be careful with her foot.”

  “Don’t worry about me, gentlemen. Damn foot can’t get any worse,” she said. “I can still shoot, so don’t count me out of the game.”

  “You got an empty trunk?” asked Charlie.

  Campbell laughed. “Sorry, sir. We’re packed to the gills. I can put you in separate cars if that would help.”

  “Families ride together,” said Ed.

  “You’re just trying to keep him out of your car,” Linda groused.

  “Is it that obvious?” said Ed, winking at Campbell and Powers.

  “After all we’ve been through,” said Charlie.

  “Especially after all we’ve been through,” said Ed, and they all laughed.

  Alex gestured toward the Walkers. “Ed and Samantha Walker. Ed was wounded saving my hide—again. They have three children, ages fourteen through nineteen. Overall, you’re looking at a highly capable group.”

  “I can still shoot out of a window,” stated Linda.

  “I want her in my car,” said Gary.

  “Sold, to the man in jeans and woodland camouflage jacket!” howled Charlie, receiving a shoulder punch from his wife.

 
; “Hey, careful,” Charlie said, “I’m injured.”

  Alex turned to Campbell. “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Too late to turn back now,” he said.

  “Let’s get this wrapped up,” Alex said. “The cars are packed and waiting. I’ll ride in the lead vehicle with Harrison. The Walkers will follow in their Jeep. Gary and the Thorntons will be in the third vehicle. The last two cars in the convoy will carry the bulk of the convoy’s supplies.”

  “Maybe the Thorntons’ car should be in the rear,” Ed suggested.

  “I’m not that loud,” said Charlie. “Jesus.”

  “All the more reason,” he said. “No. I’m more concerned with the supplies. Sorry to put this out there, especially since you guys are doing us a huge favor, but that’s a lot of temptation. Especially the truck pulling the utility trailer.”

  “No offense taken,” Harrison said. “I’m way ahead of you. I’m breaking up the groups that drove up together from Sanford. I’ll have a good mix of old and new members in each vehicle. I trust everyone implicitly, but we can’t change human nature.”

  “Plus, it would be pretty damn hard to make an escape pulling the trailer,” said Powers.

  “Sounds good,” said Ed. “I guess we should get rolling.”

  “Before we leave, a couple of critical points to remember,” said Alex. “Five cars travelling in a convoy will attract attention. I expect to be stopped. Keep your weapons out of sight at all times. I’m riding in full uniform with my magic badge, but we can’t count on that solving all of our local law enforcement problems. Weapons need to be stowed out of plain sight, but easily accessible. Take some time to work on this once everyone is situated. Safeties engaged at all times. Harrison, I’ll need you to brief your people on this.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” said Powers.

  “If we’re stopped by law enforcement or the military, I do all of the talking. Everyone stays in their vehicle unless I direct otherwise by hand signal or radio. I don’t expect trouble, but you never know. If we run into any non-authority-based—”

  “You can use the word. We’re all grownups,” said Campbell, eliciting a few muffled laughs.

  “If we run into any militia blockades, we stop and turn around. Drivers have been briefed on those procedures. Samantha, you execute a simple three-point turn, and we all proceed in the opposite direction in a group until we can safely stop and figure out an alternate route. I made this trip with my dad a little over a week ago, and we didn’t have a problem. One police checkpoint in Westbrook. A lot can change in a week. We just have to be careful and keep communicating over the handhelds. Easy enough?”

  “Easy enough,” said Ed, followed by the rest.

  “Guys, can you start getting everyone situated? We’ll be ready to transport the walking wounded in a few minutes,” he said to Campbell and Powers.

  “Gotcha. You know where to find us,” said Campbell.

  When Alex heard the mudroom door close, he sat in one of the chairs facing his friends.

  “I trust Harrison and Gary, but I don’t know the other guys—which is why I’m keeping them separate from the families. I recognize a few of the faces from the volunteers we started training at the airport. At least I know they cleared criminal background checks and passed Gunny Deschane’s interview, which was more like an interrogation.”

  “How well do you know Gary?”

  “I worked with Gary a couple of times at the airport. Harrison vouches for him.”

  Charlie and Linda didn’t look convinced.

  “He’ll be driving, so you’ll be able to watch him closely. Keep the radio in the back, along with a readied pistol. If he’s not acting right, give me a call and mention John Wayne. This will be our distress code. Say, ‘Hey, Alex, I feel like John Wayne riding off into the sunset,’ or something similar. If I hear John Wayne, we stop the convoy.”

  “Roger. John Wayne.”

  “I picked that because of your Daniel Boone cap and tiger-striped camouflage. Easy to remember.”

  “Jesus, Alex. I got it,” said Charlie.

  “What else?” said Alex.

  “You should really consider sending the kids up with us. At least until you take care of this Eli Russell character,” said Samantha Walker.

  “Ethan and Kevin won’t go without my parents, and Kate won’t let any of the kids out of her sight.”

  “Maybe they should all come up while you sort things out with Eli Russell and the RRZ,” said Ed.

  “I won’t separate us. We’re safe here,” said Alex.

  “For now,” said Ed.

  “For now,” he agreed. “If I can’t find Eli or the RRZ implodes, we’ll leave.”

  “You know where to find us,” said Charlie.

  “I certainly do. Save me some sleeping bag space away from the bathroom,” he said, getting a few laughs.

  “Yeah, we’ll need to build an outhouse or steal one of those Porta-Johns. Charlie can take his newspaper out there,” said Linda.

  “There won’t be any newspapers, sweetie,” said Charlie.

  “Point is, you aren’t conducting your morning business inside,” she said.

  “That’s more than enough. I can see where it’s going,” said Alex.

  “You started it,” said Charlie.

  “My bad,” said Alex, his mind drifting to the realities of the topic.

  Alex hadn’t thought about the cottage’s sanitary situation. Most septic systems are designed to accommodate the expected purpose of the dwelling. He couldn’t imagine the builders had anticipated seventeen people using the small lake house indefinitely. Even without the addition of the Fletchers, they’d be lucky if the system survived the winter. Life on Great Pond in Belgrade would degrade fairly quickly without the use of an indoor bathroom. Another reason they were better off elsewhere. He had to be practical about this decision, and seventeen people crammed into an 800-square-foot cottage designed primarily for three-season use was far from practical.

  “Let’s get out of here before I rethink the bathroom situation,” said Ed.

  “You might want to stuff a few extra packs of toilet paper in each car,” said Alex, extending a hand to lift Ed out of his seat.

  “Trust me, I thought about it,” Ed said, resting his arm on Alex’s shoulder. “Another week, and I should be able to get around on my own without any help.”

  “Sounds about right,” said Alex. “I got him, Samantha. We’ll see you at the Jeep.”

  “I’ll get everyone situated,” she said, sharing a concerned look with Ed.

  Alex helped Ed out of the door, purposely letting Charlie and Linda pull ahead.

  Ed leaned over and whispered, “You don’t have any plans to head north—do you?”

  Alex shook his head. “I don’t think it’s in the group’s best interest.”

  “It could work,” said Ed.

  “I appreciate your optimism, but we both know Charlie’s place can’t sustain seventeen people. It’ll be tough enough with nine of you.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “Ideally, I’d like to stay right here,” said Alex. “But it’s not looking hopeful.”

  Ed snapped his head toward Alex.

  “You’ll be fine up north. If the security situation in York County implodes, for whatever reason, they’ll reestablish the security area border at the Saco River.”

  “What if that fails?”

  “It can’t,” stated Alex.

  Ed shrugged his shoulders. “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t see a plan for a tertiary security border,” he said, grimacing.

  “Come hell or high water,” muttered Ed.

  “Charlie has a good plot of land next to a pristine lake. I packed up a kit with enough seeds for two seasons and a slightly worn copy of a book we’ve used to figure out a lot of this homesteading stuff. Sort of a dummies guide to self-sustainability.”

  “I can’t take the book from you,” said Ed.


  “If we stay here, I’ll borrow it back from you in the spring. If not, the book is better off in your hands. I don’t think we’ll have much need for it where we’re headed.”

  Chapter 32

  EVENT +21 Days

  Kennebunk Road

  Sanford, Maine

  The trees flanking Kennebunk Road disappeared, exposing a well-lit labyrinth of concrete barriers designed to funnel traffic through a single opening next to the armor-plated guard post. Darkness lay beyond the halogen lights mounted to the roof of the shadowy structure. Kevin McCulver slowed the York County sheriff’s car as they approached the checkpoint. One of the sentries stepped onto the road, motioning him forward. The second guard was nowhere in sight—presumably still inside the impenetrable enclosure.

  He’d read about these modular armor designs a few years ago, when they were widely fielded by the U.S. military at entry points to most outposts and bases in Afghanistan. Afghan National Police units based in remote areas had begun to install larger versions at police stations to serve as “safe rooms” during frequent Taliban raids. Impervious to heavy-caliber bullets and bomb fragments, occupants could safely fire on attackers and call for reinforcements, which was exactly why this morning’s plan required both guards to step out from inside the bunker.

  He drove between two rows of concrete Jersey barriers and dimmed the cruiser’s headlights as they pulled up to the sentry post. Light penetrated the car’s windows, casting serious doubt on their charade. McCulver wore a freshly pressed York County sheriff’s uniform, but stepping out of the car wasn’t an option for him. The uniform hung on his meager frame like a scarecrow; the bullet-resistant vest worn underneath doing little to improve the situation. A shadow moved behind one of the ballistic glass windows set high in the enclosure.

  This isn’t going to work.

  “Change of plans,” he whispered to the passenger next to him. “We talk our way through and stop just past the checkpoint. Make up some excuse to draw the second sentry out.”