After the Fall: Catherine's Tale Part 2: The warrior's fight for survival begins

by David Nees

  “So where are we going?” he asked as Leo started the engine.

  Leo didn’t say anything.

  Charlie waited. It was clear that Leo wasn’t going to answer.

  It soon became plain that they were headed out to the water mill. Leo remained silent throughout the whole ride. When they arrived, Leo parked in front of the main entrance. Work had already begun for the day; from inside the mill came sounds of hammering, voices, and boards being sawn. Charlie got out, and the two militia piled out of the side door. Leo was already standing at the entrance, looking idly in at the construction. The building itself appeared largely finished. Most of the workers were clustered around the supporting structure for the millstones.

  Charlie went over to Leo, tension rising in his gut. “So what are you doing here, Leo?”

  “Detective work, Chief. Detecting evildoers. Something you should have been doing.” Leo’s eyes were alight, a smile flickering on his face. After looking around for a moment, he called the two militia over and pointed to a middle-aged worker hammering a beam onto the support structure. “Take him,” Leo said in a flat voice. They stepped over to the man and quickly grabbed him. “You’re under arrest,” Leo called.

  “What?” The man looked astonished. The militiaman behind him was handcuffing his hands behind his back.

  “Did you think you could fool us forever?” Leo said to the man.

  “What are you doing?” Charlie asked Leo in a low voice.

  “Making an arrest, Chief.”

  “For what? What did he do?”

  “He’s part of a plot to slow down and sabotage the electrical project. He’s a subversive, trying to keep the town from recovering.”

  Charlie fought to conceal his shock. “You got any evidence for that? I haven’t seen any,” he replied, trying to keep his voice calm.

  “You wouldn’t,” Leo said, grinning. “But we’ll soon find some.”

  The man was shouting that he hadn’t done anything wrong as they wrestled him towards the van.

  “Who is this guy?”

  “I told you. A subversive.”

  “Do you even know this man’s name?” Charlie asked.

  Leo yelled, “Hey! You!” The pair of militia stopped dragging the man. “What’s your name?”

  “Dan!” the man said. “Dan Overbeck!”

  Leo turned back to Charlie. “That’s the man we’re looking for.”

  “Stop this. This is illegal,” Charlie demanded.

  “I got orders from Joe.”

  “Well, then take him to the jail. That’s where he belongs. I’ll keep him locked up until I find out what’s going on.”

  Leo didn’t answer. The man was shoved into the van and the rear doors slammed on the protesting suspect. Charlie swore under his breath and got in.

  “I haven’t done anything!” Overbeck kept yelling through the grille. He was practically screaming. “Nothing! Chief, take me to the police station! Have them take me to the regular police station!”

  Charlie’s head was spinning.

  He thought at first that they were going to the militia complex downtown, but then it became clear that they were going somewhere else entirely. They pulled up in front of the wire and generator repair building. Leo and the two militiamen got out. By the time Charlie had gotten out and walked around the vehicle, Leo was already informing a baffled young man in coveralls that he was under arrest.

  There was nothing that Charlie could do. The militia threw the technician in the back with the other prisoner.

  “This isn’t right,” Charlie protested again in the van. “You don’t have a warrant to arrest these men and there isn’t any immediate probable cause. You have to at least take them to the station and put them under my control.”

  “We’re under martial law,” Leo replied as he drove at high speed through the empty streets. He was ignoring the traffic signs and careening around the corners. His eyes were alight, an excited expression on his otherwise dour features showing that he was enjoying the experience. “The militia doesn’t need a warrant, you know that. And we don’t have to go through you.”

  “Then why the hell did you bring me along?”

  “So you can see how things are going to be, since you don’t seem to have a clue. Joe wants to know which side you’re on. I’m wondering myself.”

  “I’m not on the side of indiscriminate arrests, that’s for sure.”

  Leo gave Charlie a menacing look. Charlie avoided looking at him by glancing into the rear. Leo’s men were peering through the grille, watching the prisoners rolling around as the van lurched through the corners. “We’re going back to the militia’s holding cells,” Leo said. His voice suddenly sounded oddly officious. “I’ll get to the bottom of this subversive activity. Your department doesn’t seem to be able to conduct a real investigation.”

  When they pulled up to the building that contained the militia detention cells, Leo ordered the men to put the prisoners in separate rooms out of earshot of each other. They bundled out, but Leo didn’t move. He turned to Charlie. His eyes were dark, with no more amusement in them.

  “This was a lesson…and a test,” he said, in a cold tone that sent shivers down Charlie’s spine. “I got to report to Joe that you don’t seem to want to go along with how he’s running things in town. Seems like you’re becoming a problem, like you’re not on the same page. After all the special considerations, the loot you accepted, I’m surprised.”

  “If that’s what this is all about, you can have it all back.”

  Leo smiled at him. “And the food you ate? It don’t work like that, Charlie. You’re in and you can’t get out. You better think hard about your situation.” He turned to glance at the men being half-dragged into the building. “I know something’s going on, and I’ll find out what it is. Those two will know something. I’m thinking you might know also. You might know more than you let on.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just know that you’re interfering with police work. What you did here today is not about defense of the town.”

  “Oh yes it is. Everything is about the defense of the town. That’s the beauty of it. Your department isn’t needed.” Leo began to grin. An evil, sinister grin. “Now you got to wonder, do we need you…or your wife?”

  “I’ll walk back to headquarters. I don’t need a ride from you,” Charlie replied through his clenched teeth, shoving his door open.

  “Think hard about what I said,” Leo called after him.

  Chapter 3

  The announcement went out in the mimeographed paper that was posted in all the food centers. It said that two men, Peter Caldwell and Daniel Overbeck, had been caught subverting the restoration of the town’s electricity. The paper portrayed Caldwell and Overbeck as using their technical knowledge to hold the good citizens of Hillsboro for ransom for their own gain. The notice included an order that all residents gather at the downtown sports arena on the morning of the following Friday to be told about the plot. All attendees would receive a coupon entitling them to a double serving at their next visit to a food center.

  Everyone in Hillsboro knew what electricity would mean. Not just better lighting. Electricity meant energy, the ability to use power tools again, to pump water from wells, to heat homes. It meant getting the phone system going, the return of radio. It meant X-ray machines and dentists’ drills. It meant refrigerators. Everyone remembered how things were before the EMP attack; electricity would mean the return to much of the normalcy of that time.

  People who didn’t know either of the accused men were angry. The few who did know them were confused. Neither Overbeck nor Caldwell seemed to be the sort to engage in such criminal selfishness. Both men were married; Overbeck had two children. They were thought of as hardworking, solid citizens who were interested in getting the town back on its feet.

  On the day selected, the arena began to fill up by around nine in the morning. The announcement had specified ten, but since the EM
P attack time had become less precise, and few wanted to find out what missing this mandatory meeting might mean. The city government delayed the start of the meeting until the flow of new arrivals had ebbed to almost nothing.

  People filed into the arena and were directed by city functionaries and militia towards the front, near the stage that had been set up at one end of the basketball court. On the stage were two rows of seats for the VIPs. The director of safety and the chief of police were sitting in the middle of the row. Leo Stupek sat at one end, next to the stage stairs. There was a hum of generators running just outside the arena, providing power for some stage lighting and sound.

  Finally a single figure appeared on the stage. It was Joe Stansky, dressed in a dark suit. He carried an electric bullhorn.

  Joe looked out at the crowd for a moment, waiting for the crowd to quiet down. When the arena was silent, Joe began to speak. He did not bother to introduce himself.

  “We come a long way,” he said, the amplification accentuating his gruff tone. “When the EMP attack occurred, I set out right away to grab all the resources I could find. Most of our officials didn’t know what to do. If I had waited for them, we’d have missed out on lots of stuff—stuff that would have been looted. Take a look around.” He paused, not lowering the bullhorn. “You all made it through that first god-awful winter. You didn’t starve. I’m the reason you didn’t starve. I saw what was needed and made sure we had it. While others were trying to figure out what had happened, I secured our future. I didn’t wait for anyone to tell me how to do it, I just did it my own way.” His voice boomed through the bullhorn. “I made sure our town was not overrun by refugees from the larger cities. You remember that fall and the following spring. It was me that forced us to put up the barriers. You worked on them, and they kept us safe.”

  It was the first time many in the crowd had heard of any of this. They stared at him with new interest. “Since I was getting all of this done, Frank Mason, as you know, made me Director of Resources.” Joe lowered the bullhorn. He let the pause stretch, watching the crowd. A few confused people began to clap uncertainly, then he raised the bullhorn again and the silence returned.

  “As of now,” he said clearly, “I’m heading the Safety Committee. With me in charge, we’re going to make Hillsboro stronger. I’ll get the electricity going again and I’m not going to let anyone stop me.”

  There was a smattering of applause. Astonishment showed on many faces. Behind Joe, Frank Mason’s head jerked suddenly to the right, toward where Leo Stupek sat. Leo just smiled back at him.

  Joe continued after a moment, his voice suddenly harsher. “Now there are two prisoners coming out in a minute. They were arrested five days ago. They’ve confessed to their crimes.” Joe paused a moment, then continued more slowly. “Confessed to trying to sabotage the electrical project.” He stared out at the crowd, as if he were trying to make eye contact with every one of them. His face became red. His voice throbbed with righteous anger. “I want you to see them. I want you to see the people who wanted to keep your life from getting better. My militia found them and captured them. I’m working for you, for Hillsboro, and I’m not going to let anyone get in my way to make this a better place to live.”

  He was shouting now. He went on raging against the saboteurs, against the very idea of them. “Not even stealing. Trying to make things worse!” he roared. “This is worse than looting!” He continued on about his commitment to not allow anyone to get in the way of progress in Hillsboro, about how he had protected and would continue to protect the town. As he spoke, a smattering of applause broke out now and again as some people seemed to respond to his message.

  Finally he turned and gestured to Leo, who nodded to someone below. Two men in loose orange prison uniforms were brought up onto the rear of the stage, each between two burly militia guards. Their legs were shackled, their hands cuffed behind their backs, and they moved in a slow, awkward shuffle as they were guided forward between the seated VIPs to the front of the stage to Joe’s right. They were barefoot, and their heads were shaved. There were no obvious bruises on their faces, but they appeared to be in pain.

  Joe put the bullhorn to his mouth again. “Before I sentence them, I want you to see them. The men who wanted to destroy your future.” He turned to the pitiful prisoners and shouted through the bullhorn, “Do you confess to trying to sabotage the electrical project?”

  The men stood with their heads bowed.

  “Do you?”

  The two men nodded their heads.

  “Say it into the microphone,” Joe commanded. He walked forward and held the bullhorn up to Caldwell’s mouth. He got a barely audible “Yes”. Reaching past him, he held the bullhorn in front of Overbeck’s face. Overbeck’s “yes” was almost a moan.

  “You heard ‘em. There’s no doubt about what they did.” Joe turned and walked a few steps to his left, shaking his head in disgust. Then he turned and pointed dramatically at the men. “For trying to hold Hillsboro back, trying to overthrow the government and cause civil disorder, I sentence you to death by firing squad.”

  The crowd gasped. There hadn’t been an execution in Hillsboro for nearly three years. In the desperate days just after the EMP attack, the Safety Committee had held public executions of looters in order to create a deterrent and to impress the new rules of martial law upon the people’s minds. Since then, as the emergency had ground on and on, the militia had shot looters, but without any public display. The looters had just been summarily gunned down and their bodies buried in unmarked trenches. Now public executions had returned.

  “The execution will take place outside after this meeting,” Joe announced coldly. “Take them away.” The militia led the men to the back of the platform and down the steps. Leo stood up and followed them.

  Charlie leaned over to Frank. “This is wrong,” he said beneath the sound of the crowd. “There wasn’t any trial.”

  Frank kept looking out at the crowd, his mouth set in a grim line, his face pale. “They confessed, didn’t they?” he answered in a strained voice. “Joe knew what was going on, you didn’t.”

  “It looks like they were tortured, beaten.”

  “I didn’t see bruises on their faces.”

  “There don’t have to be bruises on their faces and you damned well know it. They didn’t get a trial, Joe just pointed a finger. Why don’t you stop this?”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “I don’t have any power,” Charlie said.

  “Neither do I.” Charlie watched Frank swallow hard. Frank’s face showed a mixture of fear and resignation. His voice was quiet and shaky as he continued. “It’s time to decide where you are. Joe wants to run things his way. He doesn’t seem to need either of us much anymore. If you want to stay safe and keep your comfortable life, you better get on board. He’s got big plans and doesn’t want anything…or anyone getting in his way.”

  Charlie clamped his jaw tight and got up to leave. Joe was speaking again, but he’d heard enough.

  When he got outside, he saw Leo leading a procession of militia and the two orange-clad prisoners on the sidewalk that ran along the side of the arena. At the corner of the building was a weedy area that had held decorative plants years ago. Charlie saw two tall, dark posts that had been driven into the ground in front of the arena wall.

  Charlie walked quickly towards Leo. At Leo’s direction, the militia began to tie Overbeck and Caldwell to the stakes.

  “Leo!” Charlie shouted. Leo turned toward him, his eyebrows slightly raised.

  “Leo, I want these men released to my custody. I’m giving them a twenty-four hour reprieve to see if they want to appeal that so-called conviction.” Charlie closed the distance and stopped in front of Leo, glaring into his eyes

  Charlie could see the disdain in Leo’s expression. “You don’t have any authority here, old man. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up and leave. You make any more trouble and you and your wife will regret it.”<
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  The militia gathered in a menacing semi-circle around Charlie. The condemned men just looked at Charlie with hopeless eyes.

  Charlie didn’t move.

  The disdain in Leo’s eyes slowly turned to something like disgust. “Go. Before I have my men put you on a stake and execute you. You can consider yourself retired.” Leo suddenly shoved Charlie. Charlie staggered backward a few steps. Some of the militia started for him, but Leo put up his hand to stop them and turned his back on Charlie.

  He motioned to the militia to continue tying up the condemned men. A firing line was being formed under the direction of a militia officer. Only one of the militia kept an eye on Charlie, standing slightly apart from the others and holding an M16 pointed at his chest.

  There was nothing that Charlie could do.

  He turned and started to trudge away. More people had begun emptying from the main entrance. Many of them were trying to slink away, but Charlie saw lines of militia blocking their paths, keeping them corralled to the street in front of the arena. Joe’s going to make them watch. Drive home the point.

  Suddenly there was the sound of heavy engines. Two of the Army Humvees came into view and rushed through the militia lines, stopping along the curb near Charlie. He saw Lieutenant Cameron in the lead vehicle, with Sergeant Gibbs driving and more soldiers behind them. The other vehicle was just as full. Cameron’s Humvee had a .50 caliber machine gun on top with a soldier manning it. Charlie ran over to Cameron as the lieutenant stepped out.

  “What’s going on?” Cameron asked.

  Charlie stammered out a hurried explanation. The street was now filled with civilians from the arena milling about, unable to leave. The prisoners had now been tied to the stakes, and ten of the militia had moved back twenty paces and were now arranged into a firing line facing the stakes.