Strengthen What Remains (Book 2): A Time To Endure

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Strengthen What Remains (Book 2): A Time To Endure Page 6

by Kyle Pratt


  Setting the chart on the gurney, Scott said, “They’re prepping him for surgery now. Dr. Winfield will be operating on him.” She shook her head. “This has been one strange year. I’ll bet no doctor in town has removed an arrow in over a hundred years.”

  Looking back to Hoover, Caden asked, “Did you recover any bodies.”

  “Yes, several.”

  “One of my soldiers is a police officer from Seattle. He recognized gang tattoos on the shooters at the freeway church last month. I’ll have him look at the bodies. I need to talk to Brooks.”

  “He’s still finishing the mop up operation.”

  Caden looked at Hoover. “Did you bring me here?”

  “No, Zach and another soldier brought you in. Brooks said after that he was…well…it seems the soldier with you had a mother here in town.”

  “I should be there.” Caden stood. His head throbbed and he wobbled.

  “No. I’m thinking you’ve had enough action for one night. Brooks can handle the mop-up and you can talk to the mom in the morning. I’ll take you home.”

  He didn’t protest.

  * * *

  Caden’s eyes shot open and darted around the room. Quickly, he sat up. Sweat trickled from his brow, his breathing was rapid and shallow. His ears listened for trouble. He was alone in his bedroom. From somewhere in the house came his sister’s laughter. A nightmare of battle and death faded from his memory.

  Gradually he moved ample covers from his lower body. The chill of the room sent a shudder through him, but the sun shining in the window was bright. For a moment he was angry that no one had awakened him, but his sore head and multiple bruises told him he needed the rest. He stepped to the window. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen. The contrast between the blue sky and the snow covered world below was astonishing. Winter in D.C. had always been a nuisance, but here it was striking and beautiful, a portrait in white snow, blue sky and evergreen trees. Remembering the events of last night he was thankful to be there and see it. He sighed recalling the fallen soldier and the visit he would have to make to a mother early this morning.

  With the chill in his mood came the sudden realization that it really was cool in his room. He turned on a light just to be sure there was power. He dressed quickly.

  Stepping from the room, he nearly collided with Maria. “I was just coming to check on you.” In her arms was a well-bundled Adam.

  “I’m fine. A little bruised and the head is tender, but I’ll live.”

  “Dr. Scott wants to see you today to make sure there are no clots or other problems.” She shifted the baby in her arms.

  “I’ll put her on the list of people to see. Why is it so cold up here?”

  Maria sighed and rolled her eyes. “The news is reporting that prices are going up and your dad is concerned we won’t have enough cash to pay the electric bill.”

  Caden wrinkled his brow.

  “He’s checking to see if the whole house can be heated with just the wood stove and fireplace.”

  Apparently the answer is no. Caden rubbed his sore head. “Prices are going up and we need to pay the electric bill with dollars.”

  “The news calls it inflation, but your dad calls it a monetary collapse.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard others call it that.” He squeezed Maria’s hand. “After I wash up we can discuss economics and have breakfast beside the fireplace.”

  She smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

  Both the chill and the realization that he was hungry hurried his wash and shave. As he finished, Caden remembered a weekend years ago when his father turned off the electricity. It had been a survival experiment, but as a seven or eight year old it was fun, like camping, but with a softer bed. Today’s experiment in simple living was just annoying.

  Caden swung the door at the bottom of the stairs and the warmth embraced him. This is why the upstairs is so cold. He left the door wide open.

  In the living room the couch and chairs had been pushed closer to the fireplace. Sue read in one. Nikki, the puppy, lay lengthwise in front of the fire. A few feet away Adam, on hands and knees, stared at the dog and rocked back and forth.

  “Where is everyone?” Caden asked.

  Sue set the book on her rounded belly. “Your Mom and Maria are in the kitchen. Dad is in the barn. Lisa is with David at the armory.”

  Caden smiled as he wandered toward the kitchen. His little sister was moving faster than he was with Maria. Perhaps, I should change that and finalize plans for the wedding.

  Nikki followed Caden as he headed for the kitchen. Passing Adam, the pup licked the baby across the face.

  The kitchen was warm, warmer than the living room, smelled good and Maria was there. He walked to where she stood at the stove preparing breakfast and kissed her on the cheek.

  As the two talked, his mother came in with the morning eggs.

  Nikki laid down under the table.

  “Everyone has eaten except you,” Maria said, “but I’ll have your breakfast ready in a minute. Do you want to eat in here? It’s warmer.”

  Caden nodded.

  Trevor entered with a milk pail. “Glad to see you’re alive and awake.” They talked briefly then the older man headed back to the barn.

  His mother poured the milk into several containers and retrieved a strange device from the cabinet. It looked like a cross between a coffee grinder and a blender.

  “What’s that?” Caden asked.

  “A butter churn.”

  Caden watched his mother whip the milk until Maria brought him a plate of eggs, pancakes, corn bread and coffee on a tray.

  Between bites he asked, “Is there any sausage?”

  “No,” Maria walked back to the counter.

  “Bacon?”

  “No.”

  “Bread?”

  “Cornbread.”

  “Maple syrup for the pancakes?”

  “No, but we have plenty of butter.” His mother whipped the milk in the butter churn.

  “Or honey,” Maria added.

  His stomach grumbled. “Can I get some of each?”

  “Sure.” Maria brought a plastic container filled with soft white butter and a jar of honey. She pointed to his cup. “We even have cream, but only a little more coffee.”

  “Really, we’re low on coffee? I thought we had plenty.”

  Maria shook her head. “There’s only one can left in the pantry.”

  The availability of cream and butter rolled around in Caden’s mind for a moment. Of course. “I guess we’re lucky we have the cow.”

  Maria smiled. “Sue and I named her Bluebell.”

  Caden smiled back. Naming a cow they might someday eat was a bad idea. “Did you name the calf?”

  “Your dad said to wait. I’m not sure why.”

  Caden grinned, but said nothing. He was nearly done eating when the phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at the display he saw it was Brooks and quickly answered it.

  “I wanted to let you know Sergeant Palmer, the man from the Seattle PD, is on his way to the hospital. He’ll check out the tattoos, but he doesn’t know enough Spanish to do an interrogation.”

  “Let the sheriff do that.”

  “Their only Spanish-speaking deputy was killed during the golden horde chaos….”

  “Golden what?”

  “Golden horde, that’s what people call the mass exodus from the cities during the attacks. The only bi-lingual deputy was killed at the time. They’re looking for someone reliable.”

  Caden looked at Maria. She had spoken only English around him, but he knew her family ancestry was from Mexico. “Maria do you speak Spanish?”

  She gave him a confused look. “It’s rusty, but yes. Why?”

  “We might need your help questioning the guy who tried to kill me.”

  Her eyes widened and mouth opened, but she said nothing.

  “If that is okay with you. Think about it.” He looked at the table and spoke into the phone. “Did we have any other casualti
es?”

  “Only the one. The others were just minor wounds.”

  “The man we lost, his name was Collins, right?”

  “Yes, Richard Collins. I visited the mother last night. You don’t….”

  “She’s here in town…a neighbor. I should.”

  Brooks gave him the address. After breakfast Caden dressed in his class “A” uniform. On his way out he paused in front of a full length mirror making sure every ribbon and insignia were properly placed.

  “You look good. Are you going to visit the mother?” Maria stepped into his reflected view.

  Caden nodded.

  Maria breathed deeply. “I’ll interpret if you need me.”

  “Thank you. Hopefully we won’t.” He kissed her then walked out the door.

  On the way into town, Caden spotted Zach and his sister as he passed the stream where they set their traps. He stopped the car and walked back. “This is the second time I’ve stopped to thank you.”

  The boy climbed the bank. Vicki followed with an intrigued look on her face.

  Caden shook Zach’s hand. “You saved my life last night when you shot that thug with your bow.”

  “What?” Vicki asked with wide eyes.

  Zach ignored her.“I’m sorry the other man died.”

  “We all are.”

  “Someone died?” his sister asked.

  “It was my fault,” Zach said.

  “No it wasn’t. Why would you say that? You did nothing wrong.”

  “I could have…should have shot sooner. What was his name?”

  “The man who died? Private Richard Collins.” He decided not to tell him that he was on his way to console the young man’s mother.

  As Caden walked back to the car he heard Vicki say, “You shot somebody with your bow? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Caden couldn’t help but smile. Zach’s sister would drag every little detail from him before the morning was over.

  As he drove away he tried to remember Zach’s age. Hoover said he was a minor…sixteen, that’s what he said. Caden bit his lip. If he could find a way to get Zach working at the armory he could keep an eye on him. There were many good male role models there. Maybe together they could provide a bit of guidance. I’m going to find a way.

  He wondered how recruiting efforts were going. Zach was too young to enlist, but he could hire the boy to help around the unit. Caden stopped and backed the car down the road.

  Zach watched the unusual driving with a questioning look on his face.

  Caden rolled down the window. “You mentioned once that you’ve been eating a lot of fish lately. I might be able to diversify your diet. We need some help at the armory, mostly grunt work, cleaning and maintenance. I can pay you in cash or food or a combination.

  A surprised looked spread across his sister’s face.

  “You can start after you’re done with fishing each morning,” Caden added.

  Zach thought for a moment. “Sure, that would be great.”

  “Good. Report to the front gate tomorrow at 0900.” Pressing the gas pedal he drove on toward town.

  Caden parked several houses away. His stomach twisted in a knot. He was more reluctant to do this duty than any other, but it was his duty, and it was the right thing, the proper thing, to do. If his words could bring any comfort, it was what he had to do and he would never be at peace with himself until he did.

  He pulled into the driveway and walked up to the door. Letters are so much easier than this.

  He knocked.

  The door opened.

  Eyes that had seen too many tears stared at him.

  “Mrs. Collins, my name is Caden Westmore. I was your son’s commanding officer and I was with him when he died.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Zach approached the armory by a path that wound through meadows and a nature preserve. The incline of the trail was more gradual than the road and made a more enjoyable journey.

  As he walked through the forest his mind focused on pleasant things, giant fir trees, green moss, ferns and the chirping of birds. The thought of food, other than fish, also lingered in his mind. Pizza, hamburgers and chips would all be nice. But always his mind returned to DeLynn, her blonde hair, cute smile and the fact that she liked him. In all his life he had never met such a nice girl that also liked him.

  Growling snapped his mind back to the moment. In the trees up ahead several large dogs tore at the carcass of an animal.

  He froze.

  Two pit bulls, a German Shepard mutt and at least three others tore at the meat, watched him and snarled at everything.

  He suspected the animal being ripped and shredded was a deer, but he wasn’t going to try for a closer view.

  Slowly, he backed away.

  Even when he lost sight of the dogs, he moved with measured deliberation in a wide arc around them and toward the armory. With a sigh, he came out of the woods near the gate and walked up wondering what to say to the man with the big black gun.

  “Ah…my name is Zach Brennon and ah…”

  The guard checked a list. “The C.O. is expecting you. He’s on the far side of the main building or you can go up to his office.” The man pointed to a window.

  Before he walked away he told the guard about his encounter with the wild dogs. “You should probably warn people.”

  Entering the compound Zach decided to find Caden, and headed around the main building. He was surprised to see children playing in the grassy field. Rounding the next corner he was startled to see a rifle with the bayonet stabbed into the ground in the middle of the lawn. He took a step, then stopped and stared.

  Atop the rifle was a helmet and on either side were boots. A podium and lectern were being set up beside it. From some half-forgotten news report or picture he knew this was a memorial for a fallen soldier. He thought of the man he had seen murdered a couple days before. He stood still, as if at attention, and thought of Richard Collins. It’s probably for him.

  Remembering his sorry performance during the Battle of Olympia and how his hesitation during the gang fight got Collins killed, he felt unworthy to be there. His gaze fell to the ground and he stepped back toward the building.

  “I’m glad to see you.”

  Zach spun around. Caden stood a few feet behind him.

  The boy swallowed. “I’ve seen this before.” He pointed to the display. “I know it means someone died, but not much more. Is this for…?” The name caught in his throat.

  “Private Collins? Yes it is. It’s a battlefield cross. We’re having a memorial service for him later today. You should be there.”

  Zach shook his head. “I was afraid.”

  “With no training and little experience…anyone would be. I still get scared. I know you said you should have shot sooner, but Private Collins was my man, my responsibility. Only God knows if you could have saved him, but you did shoot and you did save me.” Caden’s hand rested on his shoulder. “I’m grateful. Don’t beat yourself up over what might have been.”

  Zach had revealed a bit of the sadness that was always with him and felt that Caden’s response was sincere. It lifted some of the burden. He nodded. “Where do you want me to help?”

  Caden led him to the motor pool.

  When it was time for the memorial service, Zach lingered behind the others and found a spot off to the side and hopefully out of view. He didn’t want to be seen, and he hoped Caden would not mention him.

  The soldiers chatted and smiled with each other as they gathered on the lawn. More than once he heard the name of the fallen soldier. Their uniforms seemed perfect, their faces calm, confident and resolute as they formed in ranks. He, like an invisible observer, watched what he could never be a part of. They seem so at home, so much a family.

  “Company, attention!”

  Caden stepped to the lectern. “We are here today to honor the memory of a brave young man…”

  Zach’s eyes fell to the ground. Silently he slipped away.

&nbs
p; * * *

  The next morning Caden and Maria strolled into the hospital talking back and forth about nothing in particular. Walking through the maze of pastel colored hallways, they finally found Dr. Scott, Sheriff Hoover and Sergeant Rand, clustered around a monitor at a nurse’s station.

  They were watching a man handcuffed to a bed. His tattooed face was one Caden would never forget. The man laid quietly, his eyes half open as if bored or sleepy. When he shifted the hospital robe fell to his sides revealing an assortment of tattoos, some elaborate, others simple. A white bandage, high on the right side of his chest, contrasted with his olive skin, and tattoos of blue, black and purple.

  “What was his name again?” Caden asked.

  With his eyes still on the monitor Sergeant Rand said, “The name on the driver’s license is Gonzalo Cruz.” His face darkened. “He’s covered with Mara Salvatrucha, MS-13, tattoos. They’re a notoriously brutal gang.”

  Hoover groaned.

  Caden rubbed his chin. Great, not just a criminal gang, a vicious one. Turning to Rand he asked, “What else can you tell me?”

  “Not much. They were just getting a foothold in my precinct.” He rubbed his chin. “I remember from a briefing that membership estimates ranged up to 70,000 worldwide and 10 to 15,000 in this country.”

  “A worldwide gang?”

  “Most are in central America and the southwest United States.”

  The sheriff shook his head. “Apparently the northwest is a new growth area.”

  “He has a Los Angles address on his driver’s license.” Dr. Scott sighed. “We may have an even bigger, medical problem.”

  “What?” Caden asked.

  “The influenza outbreak I told you about. They may bring it right to us.”

  Caden looked back at the monitor. “Why here? Why my town?” He sighed and looked at Maria. “You listen from here. I want him to think he’s talking to a bunch of English only Anglos.”

  Maria smiled. “He will be.”

  Caden grinned back at her. “Okay, I guess that’s true, but you’re my trump card.” Still smiling he dismissed Sergeant Rand and then turned to Dr. Scott.”

  “Are we recording?”

  She pressed a button below the monitor. “We are now.”

  Caden turned to the sheriff. “Have you got the ear piece for me?”

 

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