by Kyle Pratt
Hoover held out his hand. “Wear it like a hearing aid.”
While the sheriff handed the microphone and transmitter to Maria, Caden fiddled with the earbud.
“Say something,” Hoover said to Maria.
“I feel like a CIA agent.”
Hoover nodded and touched his ear. “I heard you.” He looked at Caden.
“I heard. Is everyone ready?”
Hoover nodded. “Let’s question the punk.”
“I’m going, too,” Dr. Scott said.
Caden and Hoover looked back at the doctor.
“He may be a murderous thug, but right now he’s also my patient.”
Caden shrugged and continued down the hall, past the soldier guarding the room. Taking a deep breath he entered the room. “Mr Gonzalo Cruz….”
“Así que estos gringos pendejos ya aprendieron mi nombre.”
In his ear Maria said, “Oh, you stupid gringos figured out my name.”
“You know English. I’ve heard you speak it. You’re being held under the provisions of martial law. Civilian courts and habeas corpus have been suspended. I am Major Westmore the local military commander. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
With heavy accent he said, “I ain’t telling you nothing.”
Ignoring his comment, Caden asked, “Your driver’s license has a southern California address. When did you arrive here?”
Cruz remained silent
“Why are you here?”
He looked at Hoover. “Para matar policías.”
“He says he’s here to kill police.” Maria advised.
Hoover grunted.
Caden cast him a disapproving glance.
“This would be easier if you spoke English,” Hoover said.
With cold calculating eyes Cruz looked at each of the three and grinned.
He’s wounded and handcuffed to the bed, but he still wants to convince us he is in charge. Does he really think he’s ever getting out of jail? Caden had seen the smug look before. This boldness, or in this case perhaps machismo was the better word, masked a cold evil. Is it just bravado or is it more? The gang, MS-13, what about them? Caden turned to Hoover. “We killed the rest of the gang. What can one wounded man do?”
“Somos muchos más y cuando el resto de mis compañeros lleguen de Los Angles, este pueblo, Olympia y Tacoma, todos van a estar controlados por nosotros.”
Maria gave a sad sigh in his ear. “He says there are a lot more of them coming up from Los Angles and when they get here they are going to run this region.”
Caden put on his best concerned parent act. “I recognized Los Angles and the local towns. Do you have friends or family we should contact in any of those places?”
Cruz sneered, “Todos los del sur de California vienen en camino y cuando lleguen los vamos a poner a ustedes bajo tierra.”
“He says that when they get here they are going to run Hansen, Olympia and….”
Locking eyes with Caden he asked, “Where do you live soldier boy?”
Caden could hear Maria’s breathing but she had stopped in mid-sentence. He decided to continue. “I’ll ask the questions.”
“Lo voy a descubrir, te voy a matar, y me voy a quedar con tu mujer y tu casa. Todo lo que sea tuyo pronto será mío. Muy pronto.”
No translation came from Maria. Anxious to find out what was happening he stepped toward the door.
“¿Y si tienes mujer, gringo, o te gustan los hombres?”
Caden didn’t understand the words, but he heard the venom. He looked back at Cruz with a calm, cold stare.
“Y al que me pego con esa fleche, le voy a pelar el cuero vivo.”
Both the doctor and Hoover walked toward the door. Caden looked at Cruz. “Keep him here for now.”
“What’s the charge?” Cruz shouted.
Caden paused at the door. “See, you do know English.” Memories of the previous night flew through his mind, the explosion, hitting the ground, the dying soldier and this thug waving a gun and shooting. “For starters, the murder of Private Richard Collins.”
Cruz smirked. “Is that the guy who landed on you?” He made an arching motion with his free hand that ended with, “Splat.” He laughed, but then locked eyes with Caden. The thug’s face grew dark and angry. “I want a lawyer.”
The three walked from the room and returned to Maria at the nursing station.
Only as they approached did Maria lift her gaze from the floor. Tears welled in her eyes.
“What did he say,” Caden asked.
Her eyes darted between Caden and Hoover. “Cruz promised to kill both of you and skin Zach alive.”
Chapter Twelve
Hoover’s eyes widened. “How did Cruz find out that Zach shot him?”
“He hasn’t, not yet anyway, but he sure wants to know and then…do what he said.”
Caden sighed deeply. “I’m sorry you heard his sociopathic rant, but I’m glad he didn’t see you. I have a meeting with the general staff tomorrow in Olympia. While I’m there I’ll see about getting help tracking down the rest of the gang.”
Minutes later as they exited, Maria stopped and looked up at Caden. “Cruz hates you. He wants to kill you and destroy everything you have…the farm…me.”
“He threatened you? How did he know….”
“Not directly. He threatened, ‘your woman.’”
He smiled that such an independent person as Maria considered herself his woman. Caden put his arm around her and together they walked toward the car. “Cruz has already committed crimes that warrant death under the martial law edict. I want to hold him now and see what intel we can get from him, but if he tries anything, we’ll hold the tribunal and carry out the sentence.” He hugged her. “You’re safe.” But as he looked across the parking lot at the cars, RVs and trailers filled with people more desperate with each passing day, he knew that Hansen was on the knife edge of violence and chaos.
She gave him a long look. “He scares me, but I’m worried about all of us.”
He unlocked the car door, and scanned the edges of the lot where a dozen people of varying ages milled about.
Most are probably the families of patients, with nowhere to go now that Seattle is gone. All looked tired, gaunt and poor, in clothes that had been worn too long without a wash. Looking at a group of men around a fire, he thought of desperation and anger. When several turned and stared at him, Caden said to Maria, “Let’s get home.”
As they approached the farmhouse Caden squeezed her hand. “So, when are we getting married?”
“I’ve been thinking about it, but…well, you haven’t agreed to a date.”
Caden parked and stepped from the car. “Tomorrow.”
“What?” Maria said with a chuckle and exited the car. “You said there were meetings and a supply run to Olympia on Friday.”
He walked to her side. “The next day then.”
She laughed. “Let’s give everyone, including me, time to prepare.”
“Okay…the first day of spring is in about two weeks. Let’s get married then.”
The grin faded as her eyes searched his. Then, the hint of a smile returned, but with a bit of sadness that frightened Caden.
“There are times that I want to throw caution and everything my mother taught me aside and just be with you.” She leaned up against him, resting her head on his chest. “I’ve seen so much tragedy, so many people have died in the last six weeks. The night we met we both killed someone.”
“They killed your parents. They tried to kill me and Adam.”
“I know they deserved to die, but in a saner world we wouldn’t be judge, jury and executioner.”
“We do what we have to do.”
She nodded and looked at him with soft caring eyes. “I guess that’s it. I don’t want to marry you because I have to. On the day that I know I could walk away from you and not starve, not be killed or raped by some gang or warring armies, that’s the day I will marry you.”
�
��There’s a new normal. That day may never come.”
“It will. As long as there are enough men like you.”
She stepped away, but he held her hand. Pulling her back, they kissed.
An hour later, Caden drove toward the armory a bit confused about his engagement. He touched his lips with one finger. If she’s having second thoughts, she has a strange way of showing it.
Walking toward the main building, he saw Zach and a young private working on a truck engine. He decided to bring Zach along when they went to Olympia. The young man could help load supplies.
Brooks was talking to another soldier as Caden entered the office. With his mind awkwardly drifting between his conversation with Maria and concern about MS-13, he grasped the coffee cup from his desk and returned to the common area. “Why is the coffee pot off?”
A private sitting at a nearby desk said, “Ah, sir…we ran out of coffee yesterday.”
With a frown Caden turned back to his office. One more reason to go to Olympia tomorrow.
“Here is the requisition list.” Brooks followed him. “Some of the medical supplies are for the hospital and some of the fuel is for the sheriff and some of the food is for distribution at the schools, the hospital, the Salvation Army and the Community Church, just west of town.”
Caden nodded at the mention of the church his family had attended for years. He took the paperwork and continued on to his desk. He sat down flipping pages of the seemingly endless list of needed items. Finally he said, “Add coffee.”
Brooks gave him a doubtful look.
“We won’t get half the stuff on this list, but maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll have coffee.”
Brooks grinned. “I’ll add it.”
* * *
The next morning several trucks and a fueler waited at the armory for the trip to the supply depot. Zach was about to climb into the back of a deuce and a half, when Caden motioned for him to come over. “Keep me company.” He pointed. “Ride up here in the SUV.
The boy hesitated, then said, “Sure.”
The two sat in the back with a driver and guard in the front. Caden thought getting better acquainted with Zach would be a good use of the hour long trip to Olympia. While he genuinely wanted to know more about the boy, he didn’t want to reveal that he had been checking into the young man’s background.
Such a “get to know you” talk could start with something like, “So, what does your dad do for a living?” But he knew Zach’s father had been murdered and Caden didn’t want to open that area of discussion—at least not yet. Finally he settled on, “How has the fishing business been?”
“We won’t starve. We’re better off than many, but when I have a choice I don’t think I’ll ever want to eat a fish again.”
Caden smiled.
The conversation continued with Zach talking about the traps and where to place them in a stream.
“Will you go back to school?”
“Yeah, I want to graduate, but right now we need to eat. I’ll go back to school when things get back to normal.”
“Will things ever be normal again?”
The soldier in the front passenger seat glanced over his shoulder.
Caden immediately regretted uttering his own doubts.
“I hope so.” Zach looked down at the holster on Caden’s hip. “Can you teach me how to shoot?”
Caden’s wanted to say no, but thought of Cruz and his promise to skin alive the person who shot him with the arrow. Is it right to tell a sixteen-year-old that someone wants to kill him? The guy is in custody, but what if his friends find out and want to take revenge? Zach has a right to know the danger. He exhaled slowly. The conversation was not going the way he wanted. “Do you own a gun?”
Zach hesitated. “Sure. My mom owns one, but she isn’t very good with it and neither am I. The gang shootout near the house was crazy scary. The world has gone nuts. I need to protect my family.”
Caden smiled at the teenage boy. So young to bear such a burden. “Would learning to shoot be okay with your mom?”
“Yeah sure, like I said, she owns a gun.”
Caden looked into the boy’s eyes. I’m going to ask her anyway. Then he told Zach about the interrogation of Cruz. “He hates everyone, but he seems to especially loathe me, I guess because I’m the local authority figure and he failed to kill me, and you because you shot him with the arrow.”
Zach’s eyes had grown slowly bigger as Caden explained.
“Cruz doesn’t know your name and I’ll never release him, but he and his friends are dangerous.” He paused still deciding what to do. He had learned some things about the boy, but not the kind of things he had intended. “If you own a gun you should know how to use it.” Caden took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay then, on our range with our weapons and under supervision.”
Zach nodded.
“I think I’ll have Staff Sergeant Fletcher begin your instruction.”
The trip to Olympia went quickly. The highway was clear of abandoned, stripped and burned vehicles and the traffic was light. Caden saw two state patrol cars, some commercial trucks and military traffic, but few private cars.
Gas is hard to find and so expensive, I guess people can’t afford to travel.
It had been only a couple of weeks since Caden had been to the city, but the changes were stark. In the convention center parking lot, several dozen Humvees and deuce and a half trucks stood idle. Nearby warehouses served as a supply depot. The convoy pulled in front of the office nearby.
Inside, Caden presented the requisitions.
The supply officer looked over the paperwork and laughed. “Coffee? Are you kidding? You might as well ask for gold.” The supply officer chuckled. “Actually, I might be able to get some gold.”
Caden shot him a skeptical glance.
“Yeah, from surplus electronics, but there’s not an ounce of coffee to be found.”
“Well,” Caden said with a frown, “fill what you can.” He left the depot for the Emergency Operation Center.
* * *
After stepping from the elevator on the third floor of the Wainwright building, Caden was stopped by two guards. They checked his identification against a list and allowed him to proceed to the EOC. The operations center was bigger than he remembered. A large “C” shaped table dominated the center of the room. Lap and desktop computers faced in toward the center with a dozen people in uniform hovering around them. Facing the open end of the table were five large monitors mounted on the wall. Currently they displayed both regional and national news channels. To his right was a long table with a host of communications equipment. On his left was a large oval conference table.
Caden scanned the room for General Harwich, the adjutant general of the Washington National Guard, but didn’t see him. It took him a few seconds to spot the duty officer, an army captain. Caden walked over and introduced himself.
“You command the Hansen armory, right?”
“Yes.”
Stepping close to a map on the wall the captain pointed to Hansen. “Well, it’s good to meet you. General Harwich thinks you’ve done an excellent job protecting this area. He drew a larger circle from the coast, past Hansen, to the mountains and back to the coast. “Just yesterday he said he wanted to expand your area of control.”
“Whoa. Slow down. I came to ask for help, not more headaches.”
Caden heard a familiar voice behind him. “We’ve all got headaches, Major, which one brought you here today?”
He turned and saw General Harwich a few feet behind him. After saluting and shaking hands, Caden briefed the general on the recent gun battle near Hansen and what Cruz had told them about the gang moving up from California.
The general seemed lost in thought for a bit. “The Chinese don’t tell us anything that is going on in the areas they control. I doubt they tell the Durant administration anything, but refugees from the southwest are more than willing to talk. The Chinese supply food and medicine and
have been very effective in restoring order. Most would call it ruthless. Anyone who loots or robs is shot. If you collaborate and work when, where and how they say, you are given food and shelter. If you don’t, they make your life difficult at best, often impossible. There is no room for gang activity in the Chinese zone of control, so gang members leave and join the flow of refugees. We think the Red Army may be…” He seemed to consider his words. “Refugees will be flowing out of the Chinese zone for the foreseeable future.”
The general called to a nearby corporal, “Son, get me the current sitrep display of the country. The soldier moved to a computer on the nearby conference table and within seconds a large map of the United States appeared on the display.
As the general walked to it, Caden tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Most of the U.S. east of the Mississippi was colored red. That’s the area under Durant’s control. A red oval also encompassed Denver and Colorado Springs. The Pacific coast from just north of San Francisco to the Canadian border and east to the Missouri and Mississippi rivers were marked in blue. Those are probably the states that support the new congress. Iowa, Missouri and Arkansas were split.
Texas, eastern New Mexico and Oklahoma were green. Texas always did go its own way. Northern Utah was in purple. Mormons? The southwest was maroon. The growing Chinese zone of control. Splotches of orange surrounded the cities destroyed by nuclear attack. Most of the orange dots had tails that arced away. The contaminated zones. For Seattle that area reached into the Cascade Mountains.
He stared at the display while his gut twisted into a knot. The nation is falling apart, becoming Balkanized. Suddenly Caden realized the general was talking.
“…huge wave of refugees heading east out of southern California, Arizona, Nevada and New Mexico into Colorado and Texas, but some are heading north toward us. Most are good people trying to get out of the desert and blast areas. Radiation, water and electrical power are huge issues in the southwest. We expect the population of that region to stabilize at less than half, maybe a third, of what it was before the attacks.”
“We can’t handle a large influx of refugees. How can those states?”
