“She won’t live long.”
He nodded again.
“So you just decided to come and pay a visit? This isn’t like you. What’s gotten into you?” she asked him.
He pointed at her.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“You came and visited her because of me?”
“Yes,” he said and pointed at her again then himself.
“Because I cared for you, you’re returning the favor and caring for her?”
“Yes.”
“So you were listening last night; you can understand me. Sometimes I wondered if you don’t talk because you don’t understand English that good.”
He pulled his wheelchair back and started for the door.
“Where you off to now?” she asked.
He wheeled to the door and pushed against it.
She rushed over to help.
He shook his head, telling her to stop.
He used all his strength until he had the door open, and wheeled outside.
She followed him into the late morning sun.
Like a man with a purpose, he crossed the yard and into the backyard. He pulled out a pad of paper and drew what looked like parallel bars, then pointed to an area next to the swing set.
“You want those things right there?” she asked.
He nodded.
“For what?” she asked.
With his left palm open, he took two fingers on his right and mimicked walking.
She lit up. “You want to try to walk, you want to do some physical therapy?”
He nodded.
She touched his shoulder and exclaimed, “Absolutely, I’ll let Samuel know. We’ll get someone on that immediately.”
For the third time in two days he said, “Thank you.”
McCall, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia
Samantha had mixed feelings concerning the extra security that was placed around her. She appreciated the protection but missed the privacy a life of anonymity brought.
Gordon had handpicked the men, all Marines from Simpson’s forces, to stay back and provide close protection, and put Nelson in charge of making sure things ran smoothly.
For Nelson to be in charge of Marines made him feel uneasy, but Gordon wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Here you go, ma’am,” a young Marine lance corporal said, opening the door of the Humvee for her.
“Thank you, Lance Corporal Sanchez,” Samantha said, stepping out into the brisk cold air. She steadied her step on the icy ground, ensuring she didn’t slip. A few inches of snow had fallen overnight with more coming down lightly.
With Haley and Luke going to school now, it gave Samantha time for herself. She missed the kids but also enjoyed her me time.
Reopening the schools was an important step in returning to normalcy. Everyone got behind it and supported it as best they could. There were some logical issues like no power, but the teachers and staff improvised and did the best they could with what they had.
Halloween represented the beginning of what Samantha called the extended holiday season. She enjoyed this time of year and was hoping she could make the most of it in McCall, especially for Haley and Luke. That night they planned on attending a costume party at the Shore Lodge in lieu of trick-or-treating on Halloween night. Even in the relative safety of McCall, she didn’t want Haley going door to door. Not having easily available stores or up-to-date merchandise to buy, she had to get creative in order to make a costume for Haley.
Last year Haley had dressed up as Rarity from My Little Pony, but this year her choice was vastly different. Knowing her father was off fighting, Haley wanted to be a Marine. This was a stretch from years before, as Haley tended to be a very girlie girl.
Samantha had first suggested she be a princess, fairy or even a cuddly animal, but Haley wouldn’t change her mind. When asked why, her answer couldn’t be disputed. She told Samantha that she was dressing up like Daddy. How could any parent object to that? Other children went for their favorite characters or superheroes, but Haley considered Gordon to be her hero.
Fortunately, Samantha was surrounded by Marines, so getting a uniform to use as material was easy; now she just need to have one made that actually fit Haley’s tiny six-year-old frame.
Phyllis, a local and confidante and friend of Samantha’s, was a master at everything homesteading. She had contributed greatly to the community and specifically to Samantha by teaching her skills that had been lost on the modern woman, one of those being sewing and clothes making.
“I’ll be right back,” Samantha said to Sanchez and carefully shuffled towards Phyllis’s house, a small log-sided home within the city limits of town.
When she stepped on the front steps, the door opened quickly. The strong aroma of pumpkin spice wafted over Samantha, giving her a warm and fuzzy feeling. “Good morning, Phyllis.”
“Good morning to you, my dear,” Phyllis replied. She was not an elderly woman, in her late fifties, but the many years of living in the harsher conditions up north and spending countless time outside had weathered her face, giving her the appearance she was older than she was. “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it? I just love the first snows and crisp air,” Phyllis happily said.
Phyllis’s jovial attitude always made Samantha feel welcome and helped to brighten the gloomiest days.
“Is it okay if I say I miss San Diego weather?” Samantha joked as she stepped inside the foyer.
“You’re already fed up with the weather and winter hasn’t even started yet. Dear, you’re in for a shocker,” Phyllis quipped, taking Samantha’s coat.
Samantha slipped off her Sorels and slipped on a pair of Uggs that Phyllis provided for her guests. With her eyes pressed closed, she inhaled deeply. “Smells so good in here.”
“I’m making some pumpkin spice muffins for the party tonight,” Phyllis said, walking into the small kitchen.
Samantha followed her in and said, “I’ve said it before, but how do you do so much in a kitchen so small?”
“It’s not the size that matters,” Phyllis joked.
Feeling giddy, Samantha joked, “Depends on what it is.”
“Missing your man?” Phyllis asked.
“I just want him here. I want to feel him next to me in bed. I wish this whole mess was done and over,” Samantha lamented.
Phyllis began pulling muffins from a tin and replied, “I don’t think it will be over for some time. All we can do is pray.”
“Prayer is something I haven’t done in a while,” Samantha confessed.
“I don’t like to pressure people, but you’re always welcome at my church. I know it does me good.”
“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“How’s your little princess?” Phyllis asked.
“Princess Marine now.”
“Oh, yeah, back in the second bedroom, her costume is lying on the bed,” Phyllis said.
Samantha headed back, excited to see Haley’s costume. She refused to call it a uniform because doing so would make it seem too real for her, and the thought of Haley in a warrior’s outfit seemed distressing. In the bedroom, she found the tan pixilated uniform lying on the bed. It looked perfect, right down to the name tags with VAN ZANDT above the left chest pocket.
“What do you think?” Phyllis asked from the doorway. She had walked up without Samantha knowing.
Samantha jumped and answered, “It’s perfect, thank you. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing, my pleasure.”
“No, we agreed you’d take payment of some sort.”
“Fine, fine.”
“So what shall it be, some canned food, a box of ammo, batteries?” Samantha said, going through a short list of what had become the currency of the time.
“Follow me,” Phyllis said, motioning for her to follow. Phyllis took her into the kitchen and grabbed a muffin. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
“Taste it, let me know if it’s good or not.
I ran low on cane sugar, so I used what I had left of some light brown.”
Samantha took a bite and moaned, “Oh, my God, it’s so good. It’s moist, fluffy, it’s amazing. The kids are going to love them.”
“I’m so happy, I was nervous it may not come out. You know, baking is an exact science; one deviation from a recipe can spell disaster. I thought I’d have plenty of sugar but ran low because I made the kids some hard candy on a stick,” Phyllis said, pointing to a cardboard box that had dozens of candy-covered sticks poking out of it.
“That’s so sweet,” Samantha gushed.
“It is sweet,” Phyllis joked.
“It sounds like I can bring you some sugar for payment,” Samantha said.
“Nope, your payment was being my taste tester. It’s a high-risk job and you survived.”
“Absolutely not, I’m paying you; there’s no ifs, ands or buts.”
A loud banging on the door made them both jump.
“Huh, wonder who that may be,” Phyllis said, rushing to the front door. She opened it and found Sanchez standing there, a look of urgency written on his face.
Samantha, seeing who it was, called out, “Everything all right?”
“No, ma’am, it’s Luke. He got into a fight at school,” Sanchez reported.
“Is he okay?” Samantha asked, pushing by Phyllis.
“No, ma’am, his arm was broken.”
Samantha stepped out the door but hesitated when she remembered she was wearing the Uggs. She kicked them off and put her boots back on, grabbed her coat and ran out the door.
Cheyenne, Wyoming, United States
Conner wasn’t surprised, but it still came as shocking to have it confirmed. He had always found Wilbur’s strong opposition to most of his policies annoying, but he kept her around solely because she was smart, capable and he was open to hearing differing opinions. But knowing she was possibly working against him made him angry. He had more respect for his enemies. A traitor was the lowest form of existence and something he had zero tolerance for.
“You’re sure she just didn’t stop by for a drink?” Conner asked, wanting to hear something different than what he had been told.
Schmidt coughed and repeated what he told Conner moments before, elaborating on the information from one of his men who was in Pat’s Coffee shop last night. “No, sir, she came in, went to the counter, asked for Pat, and then headed towards the back. She reappeared twenty minutes later, no drink in hand, no food, no bag, nothing, she just left.”
“What time was this?” Conner asked, wanting to make sure he had his facts straight.
“A bit past nineteen hundred,” Schmidt confirmed.
Conner stood looking out the large window behind his desk. The cool fall air had turned the birch tree leaves a brilliant golden yellow. Like many people, fall was a favorite time of year for him and always brought back memories of him and Julia taking walks along the Potomac or going hiking in Northern Virginia. There was a simple joy he found in this time of year above the others. Summers were always too hot, and for someone who sweated easily like he did, the heat was an inconvenience more than anything, and winter too presented obstacles he’d sooner miss, like freezing rain and snowdrifts.
“Let’s bring her in, and let’s try not to make a scene,” Conner ordered.
“Sir, I have a different approach.”
Conner didn’t turn; he kept his eyes glued on the people and cars going by outside. “Go ahead.”
“If we bring her in, people will notice her missing. She’s too well known to have her just disappear. The minute her fellow traitors know, they’ll scurry like rats. I say we keep tabs on her. I’ve been cataloging her movements and listing every person she comes into contact with. We know now she’s feeding information to Pat, but who else might she be working with? I only just started tracking her. She has to be one of the leaders, so let’s keep her active, thinking no one is watching. With your permission, I want to listen in on her calls.”
“Fine, do it, do whatever you need to, but if you come across a conspiracy to do our country harm and it’s time critical, jump on it and bring them all in. Don’t hesitate, act quickly,” Conner ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
Conner finally broke away from the window and faced Schmidt. “Christ, Major, you look like shit.”
“I’m not feeling well today,” Schmidt admitted.
“Now you say you’re not feeling well. Either you have a high pain tolerance, or you’re now willing to be honest.”
“All things are in place for your speech later today. I can promise it will be exactly the thing that will give you the reason to come down hard on all these people.”
Conner walked to his chair and sat down. “Nothing like a good false flag to get the people behind you to do whatever you want.”
“It’s not a bad thing, sir. We know these people wish to do us harm, so why not get them before they act. Even if it requires taking a few of ours out in the process, we’re actually saving lives,” Schmidt said, rationalizing their approach.
“What is it with people? They want us to keep them safe, but when we do the heavy lifting, they get all uncomfortable.”
“It’s easy for them, sir. They get the advantages of the safety but also the privilege of being righteous without the consequences of having to make a hard decision or do a damn thing. It’s so typical. I would’ve thought the collapse would have changed some people, but it looks like that soft, warm and fuzzy perspective is still alive and well.”
“I wonder if they comb the hair of their pet unicorn every night before going to bed,” Conner joked, mocking his political enemies.
Schmidt chuckled.
“Major, I need you to go to that appointment. Everything will work itself out,” Conner ordered. He was sticking to his demand that Schmidt conduct his follow-up appointments.
“Please, sir, my place is out there. I don’t want to miss it.”
“You shouldn’t,” Conner assured him.
Schmidt looked at his watch and saw the time slipping away. He had given his team the mission and it could be executed without him if need be. “I need to go now, then.”
“Let me know how it goes,” Conner said.
Schmidt got up and exited his office.
Conner immediately picked up the phone and called out. “Dr. Weston, please.”
A moment passed.
“This is Dr. Weston.”
“Doc, Conner here. Major Schmidt is heading your way. Don’t forget what I told you yesterday.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
Conner hung up the phone, looking at the clock. His speech was in five hours and his anxiety was rising. Just what types of fireworks did Schmidt have in store? He could hardly wait.
McCall, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia
“Why didn’t you transfer him to the hospital?” Samantha barked.
Luke sat on the cot in the school nurse’s office in visible pain. His right forearm had the telltale sign it had suffered a break. Halfway down the forearm it bent at a slight thirty-degree angle and the area around it was swollen and bruised.
“It’s our policy not to administer aid nor forward a student to the hospital without a parent’s consent,” the principal said.
Frustrated, she looked at Luke and said, “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get that taken care of.”
Luke stood up, his right arm cradling his left. His face contorted in pain as he took a step.
“I know it hurts, but soon we’ll get someone who knows what they’re doing to take care of you,” Samantha said, her tone directed at the principal and nurse, who stood watching Luke walk out as if bystanders watching an accident. She cut her eyes at them just before leaving.
“It hurts real bad,” Luke moaned.
“I know,” Samantha said, patting his back.
“Ouch, don’t touch me,” Luke complained.
“Sorry.”
They exited the front doors of the school and fou
nd Nelson rushing towards them. “I just heard. I came as soon as I found out.” He stepped up to Luke and asked, “What happened?”
“A fight.”
“How about we ask him all the twenty questions once we get him patched up.”
“Let’s take my truck,” Nelson suggested.
They piled into Nelson’s truck and headed to the hospital, which was a short drive away.
Sanchez followed in the Humvee.
Sporting a cast and feeling better from the painkillers, Luke was escorted by Samantha to the front waiting room, where Nelson sat patiently waiting.
Seeing Luke, Nelson jumped up. “Look at you, boss. You look like a badass with the cast.”
“Ha,” Luke said.
“Can I be the first to sign it?” Nelson asked.
“I think I should leave that privilege for Haley,” Luke replied, his mind always considering Haley above all others.
Samantha rubbed his back, this time with no complaints from Luke, and said, “You’re a good and thoughtful young man.”
“That he is,” Nelson said.
Seneca suddenly appeared through the hospital front doors. “I’m so glad I ran into you.”
Samantha gave her old friend a hug and complimented her long hair. “I really love that you’ve grown your hair out.”
“Oh, thanks,” Seneca said, touching the dark brown strands that jetted from her tight-fitting beanie.
“This has to be the worst place to be discussing hair,” Nelson joked.
“I like it,” Luke said.
Seneca reached out and rubbed Luke’s left shoulder. “You holding up?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Like Gordon says, what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.”
“True words there,” Nelson replied, his gaze fondly looking at Seneca.
Their relationship had now progressed to an intensely intimate one, and rumors that the two would get married were floating around, but to date nothing formal had been announced. But to see the two together, anyone could see their bond and attraction was obvious.
“How about I take you to pick up Haley?” Nelson asked.
Blood, Sweat & Tears: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 5) Page 8
