Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  “My command can roll right now, Madame Mayor. I think sooner is better than later, don’t you? We have those kids to think about,” the Colonel reminded her.

  “Of course, we need to take care of those kids. Who knows when that power might come back on?” she replied. A genuine person would have meant that it was a catastrophe if it didn’t come back on for a while; the Mayor thought it would be a catastrophe if it came back on before she got this show organized.

  “It’s ten o’clock now. Why don’t you meet Chief O’Toole at the old grocery warehouse down on south Highway 45 at about 1 pm? Do you know where that is? Good. That will give me enough time to get back and get him up to speed with what he’ll need to say. We know we have at least one old clunker running in the city fleet. But none of our CityLink Volts will even unlock. Unbelievable to me that we have two hundred city vehicles and none work except the oldest thing we have!

  “By the way, why do your vehicles work if no one else’s will?” the mayor asked, suddenly suspicious.

  “Simply because our equipment is designed to operate in the most remote corners of the planet, even where there was limited or no electrical grid at all. War doesn’t stop when the power goes out.”

  The mayor nodded. “I guess we should have all thought of that before. It just seemed like we were really getting a handle on everything again. This glitch in the power system will probably set us back months.”

  More like years…probably forever, the colonel thought to himself. As soon as rioting broke out in the major cities, the damage to America would be fatal. The country nearly collapsed just a few short years ago before trillions spent on the Reboot was credited with saving the economy. Walsh witnessed the effect of money printing in other countries and knew the miracle of the Grapevine only delayed the collapse. Government monetary policy made the pain worse when time ran out. Others argued the transfer of assets and wealth from small cities and private business gave the illusion of recovery. Really, the national GDP hadn’t grown since the prior recession/depression. But the megacities sure had grown and any business wanting government money had to be in one of the Capitals.

  All of that was theory to Colonel Walsh. His situation was right here, right now. He now knew exactly where the city was storing the monthly food allotment sent by the Feds. That was a critical start to the success of his plan.

  He gestured to his second, who excused himself and headed out of the office. A ready team of two Humvees, two transport trucks and twenty soldiers were waiting to make the two-mile trek to the University warehouses, where the separate food rations they received were kept. Previous recon told the colonel that there was one security guard on duty there at any time. Chances were with the current blackout he wouldn’t be there either.

  The look of suspicion returned to the mayor’s face, this time mixed with mild alarm. “Colonel, where is the major going?”

  The mild alarm turned to panic when she heard the ready team vehicle’s engines roar to life.

  “Colonel tell me where in the hell those men are going, right now!” she demanded.

  “I’m sorry, Madame Mayor, but those men have a different mission to attend to. One that is outside of your jurisdiction,” Colonel Walsh replied calmly.

  “As of right now, nothing is outside of my jurisdiction, you wannabe dictator! I knew you’d try to trick us, I knew it! That’s why the police chief is sitting outside of your gates ready to arrest whoever comes out before I do!” The Mayor regained her tomato hue.

  “I hope he doesn’t try to stop those men. I’m sure your chief is a brave man. But that group coming at him has all done at least three tours in the Sandbox. There’s nothing your police officers can do to intimidate them,” the colonel said sternly.

  His demeanor changed when he heard the sound of gunfire erupt outside. “Secure this group and keep them locked down,” he barked to the MP in the corner of the room.

  He ran out the door of his office yelling to the clerk just outside, “Sound the alarm, rapid response Delta to the gates!” He hurried through the parking lot not waiting for a reply. Just a short hundred-yard dash down to the gates, but the gunfire had already ceased by the time he got there.

  “SITREP!” he demanded as soon as he saw his troopers. An old city vehicle sat smoking from the engine compartment as he approached. Two men in police uniforms lay in the street in front of the vehicle. Another slumped figure behind the steering wheel, and a broken body draped over the bed of the truck. Two others had their hands behind their backs, laying face-down on the pavement. One seemed to be heaving.

  He glanced at a figure in gray urban camouflage slumped up against his lead Humvee. His worst fears were realized when he got close enough to see the now ashen face of his second. More than just a loyal soldier, his friend, a man whom he served with for over ten years, and the only person who could legitimately claim to have saved his life, twice no less. Unlike himself, the major was a religious man. In fact, the only other time the colonel had been in church in recent memory was to stand as Godfather for the major's kids.

  “What happened?” he shouted, half questioning, half commanding an answer. A second lieutenant assigned to the group came to attention.

  “Sir, the major tried to peacefully negotiate the removal of that vehicle from our path so we could leave. While he and the police chief were arguing, that civilian in the back of the truck raised his weapon so we provided covering fire. Somehow, in the chaos, the major got hit. I’m sorry, sir.” The young lieutenant looked shaken, despite being a combat veteran.

  “Alright, Lieutenant. Let the medics take care of the major, and then you double-time up to that warehouse and secure that food, understood? No more negotiating. You get that food, and you bring it back here, ok? That was the major’s mission, and now it's yours. Go now!” the Colonel said firmly. The young officer shook off the shock and immediately began issuing orders to reorganize the column.

  They're good men, the Colonel thought. They deserve to be saved. Deserve to have a future no matter what happens. Unlike the filth that occupied this country and this so-called city.

  Colonel Walsh watched as the medics trotted his friend back to the base hospital via stretcher, but he knew it was too late. He witnessed the death of enough men to know when the spark of life was extinguished. This one was an unlucky shot that hit below the body armor he insisted all his men wear. The bullet severed an artery and it was over for him quick. Amazing how fragile the human body is in those circumstances. Then other times, a soldier could lose both arms and both legs and still live through it. That was with the miracle of modern medicine. What would medicine be like now? Back to roots and herbs? Maybe…better make sure the base library has reference books like that. We’ll search the campus and town libraries, bring that stuff back here. He’d also secure the two hospitals here in town. There would be a little time to accomplish that now.

  The mayor and the chief of police moved up his timetable with their actions. He walked back to his office, where the two remaining members of his security council waited for his orders. The look on their faces would have been ominous to the mayor if she could have seen it. But she had been restrained during the gunfight after flying into a fit of rage, demanding to be released and to see the city attorney. She didn’t know that she would be seeing that attorney soon enough.

  “Madame Mayor,” the colonel said calmly as he entered the office where she sat strapped to a chair, “by the authority given to me by the Emergency Powers Act, in the case of national crisis where no direct contact is established with the Federal Government and local military forces, I have the right of declaring martial law inside any municipal jurisdiction in which I am stationed.

  “What that means is that Uniform Code of Military Justice is in effect here. I am the final say in how military justice is applied, understand?” The colonel couldn’t understand what the mayor mumbled, but he didn’t think it meant she agreed.

  “Under that Code, anyone responsib
le for the deliberate death of a service member can be convicted of a Federal offense. Because you caused the death of one of my men, and in fact my second-in-command, I am charging you with capital murder.” Suddenly terror filled her face. He saw that she had a nasty bruise on her forehead and her blazer was torn.

  She began to cry. “You can’t be serious! You’re going to put me in prison because I tried to stop you from stealing our food? Please, Colonel, I’m sorry. Let’s talk this through. I was just trying to help the people of my city. And now we really do need you if there are police officers hurt.”

  “Not hurt, Madame Mayor, dead. Your police chief is dead, and so are some of your other officers. So effectively, we are now the only hope this city has for keeping order. You are responsible for permanently removing one of the best men on this planet from my command. A man with experience in helping civilian populations through difficult times.

  “Now I have to go explain to a wife and two children why their American hero, who has survived situations that would make you die of fright, was gunned down on his own base by the very people he was trying to save,” the colonel said as he strained to keep his composure.

  “No, Madame Mayor, I am not going to put you in prison. I am going to make you an example of military justice, which is what people like me should have been doing with political scum like you all along. I am going to take you to the town square, and along with your goon squad, I am going to personally put you in front of a firing squad.”

  The room fell silent as a tomb. The four city council members who accompanied the mayor looked nauseous, completely devoid of color. The mayor’s eye dissolved into salty pools, unsure what sort of hell she’d fallen into. She looked at Walsh’s

  As the colonel spun on a heel to walk out of the office, he noticed one of his captains looking ill at ease. Walsh slowed to make eye contact… Captain Martin Fredericks was a good man, a brave soldier. He served two tours under Walsh’s, dutifully following every order without question. Fredericks had been on board with their plan to secure the city’s food supply, so what was the look for?

  Does he disagree with my decision to declare martial law? Fredericks has been in enough situations to know how this is done, Walsh thought.

  Units under his command pacified dozens of villages all over the Sandbox, often in ways just like this. If the village elder or tribal leader caused one of their men to get hurt, they held that leader responsible. What was the other choice, burn the village down? No American soldier wanted to hurt women or kids. So the man in charge, and it was always a man over there, paid the price. It was simple formula, really. When the tough-guy shot-caller faced the consequences, things quieted down.

  That’s all Walsh was doing now - just keeping things quieted down. The mayor caused his best man to get killed. If I don’t punish that, what would happen next? This city was as big as any other place he had pacified. If he let this sniveling rat of a leader get away with murder, the whole place would spin out of control. When the laws stopped applying to the lawmakers, discipline came apart.

  No, he knew he what he was doing was right. The Emergency Order was the last command given by the Pentagon, and this was what his experience told him was the right way to carry out that order.

  Maybe Fredericks was troubled by the thought of executing a woman. That must be it. If Fredericks was feeling that way, most of the others probably would feel squeamish about it, too. Better not have a firing squad do it. Okay, he understood that. The firing squad would execute the city council and two surviving cops.

  As for the mayor? He’d do that himself.

  Ridgeview Hunting Lodge

  The Fourth Day

  Kara Bradshaw hummed a quiet tune she didn’t know the words to, rocking young Trey Casey on her lap. She wasn’t sure how much the boy really understood about his grandfather’s death. But the little guy knew everyone around him was upset, most importantly his daddy. Kara stroked the boy’s sandy brown hair as he stirred. “Shhhh. It’s okay, Trey. It’s all going to be okay,” she whispered.

  The door creaked open, revealing Trey’s father. Kara’s heart hurt at the sight of the man’s sunken eyes, bright red glowing against his normally aristocratic face that closely mirrored Ben's. Kara smiled sweetly, trying to bring slight comfort to the grieving man.

  This was the first time since the elder Casey’s death that JR had left his father's room. JR tried to return the smile and knelt down beside Trey. He smiled sweetly at his son and rubbed his arm. Trey opened his eyes, saw his daddy and nearly jumped into his arms. Kara watched as they hugged for a long while.

  The sound of Sy’s truck pulling up caught JR’s attention. He stood, still holding Trey’s hand, and leading him towards the door. Before they left the room, both Caseys turned and looked back at Kara, giving her nearly identical sad smiles. She followed them out of the door and down the stairs into the Great Room.

  Without a word, Darwin walked straight to JR and grabbed him in bear hug. Kara walked toward Sy, and for the first time in forever hugged her brother in the same way. JR knew right away by the look on his friend’s faces that they hadn’t found any solutions to what to do with his father’s body. JR teared up again but fought with all his might to retain his composure.

  King kept a hand on JR’s shoulder. “Look…uh…JR,” he stammered. “I promise we’re going to figure something out straightaway for your pops. But we got somethin’ else we need to ask you right now.”

  King looked at Sy nervously and continued. “You’re prolly gonna think me strange for askin’ at a time like this. A while back your pops talked to me about the Casey family movin’ out of Chicago.”

  JR gave King a look mixed between disgust and confusion. “Yeah, so what?”

  “Ben said things were gonna get bad in the cities. Said somethin’ bad was a comin’. You figure he knew the power was gonna go out?”

  JR fumed. “Darwin, how the hell is this relevant? We’re in the middle of BFE and the power went out. Big deal! Sy said it happens all the time. You're supposed to be figuring out a way we can get back to civilization… find someone to take care of Dad…”

  King cut him off. “And your father’s pacemaker just ups and quits? How often have those units failed? You’ve been testing them for years… The field trials, the government testing, you didn’t even have to bribe anyone to get ‘em approved. Now the power’s out, the SmartWatchs and phones are out, your fancy never-fail car won’t work…”

  He paused for a moment and Sy finished his thought. “There’s even Army trucks moving through town. Saw ’em with our own eyes.”

  JR’s face twisted with conflict. His eyes were still bloodshot, face flushed, his hair the opposite of the usual perfect grooming. Here was a distraction to his grief, brought to him by men he knew to be his friends. Still…how absurd to be worrying about something like this.

  “Dad told me a few times about an envelope in his briefcase…he always carried one of those old-style laptop bags. He insisted on it being with him, never went anywhere without it, even here…it’s still out in the car…” JR tried to clear his head, shaking out the cobwebs with a quick toss. “In all the confusion I completely forgot…” He rubbed his eyes and then the side of his head. “He said if anything ever happened to him, there was an envelope in there I was to read right away…He was more serious all the time about us getting the family out of the city.”

  JR raised his eyes to Darwin. “Dad talked to you about it, didn’t he?”

  Darwin nodded. “Right, JR. Reckon that’s related to this week?”

  JR returned the nod, slowly at first, then more confidently. “I still don’t think dad told me everything he knew. He was always trying to protect me, even after I was grown, with kids of my own…” JR started to sob again. Sy and Darwin averted their eyes while he regained his composure. “Anyway, what he told me was a few very powerful people were going to attempt to seize control of the country, and big population areas would be very tough to
survive.”

  “How could a handful of people take over the entire country?” Kara asked. She’d been quietly taking the conversation in from the start.

  Darwin and JR frowned at each other. JR answered first. “Kara, I don’t think you understand how few people are really pulling the strings in this world. They can take anything if they’re willing to pay the price. I assure you that.”

  Sy shook his head. “I don’t believe that. I just can’t believe that. Power’s out for a few days and we’re talking about a conspiracy to take over the country—wait, you said ‘the world?’ I’m just a simple redneck living out here in BFE,” he couldn't help shoot a look at JR, “but I just can’t buy that.”

  JR and Darwin didn’t respond; both were heading out of the Great Room and out on the porch.

  “Sy,” JR said over his shoulder, “you have anything that can break safety glass? We need to get in that car.”

  “Don’t have a clue, except maybe a shotgun?”

  “Get a spark plug and break the ceramic off with a hammer. Throw the pieces at the glass, it’ll break.” All three men stopped and looked at Kara as she spoke. “What? I wasn’t always a perfect angel. I spent some time away from home, remember?”

  The group still stared at her in silence. “Just try it,” she said again. “Small-sized chunks work best.”

  Sy headed off to the equipment shed to find a spark plug, leaving Darwin and JR still gaping. Finally Darwin spoke up. “Darlin’,” he said with a smile. “You and I got some things to catch up on.”

  “Maybe later,” Kara dismissed him. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to check on Trey and Max. They’re out on the trails with the dogs.”

  Darwin and JR walked around the gleaming white BMW in silence. The expensive piece of metal, composite and glass sat statue-like in the driveway. The men could see their reflection in the tinted safety glass, but Casey Sr.’s briefcase was clearly visible sitting on the leather seats inside. “It’s gonna be a fortune to replace this window. I hope whatever is in that briefcase is worth the cost,” JR sighed.