The Long Night Box Set

by Kevin Partner

  Givens called out as the muscled Russians grabbed him, and Paulie stumbled as she was pushed off the chair. Graf caught her. "Come on, we've got to get you out of here."

  "No!" she called. If she lost control here, she would never regain it and that would be the beginning of the end for this oasis of civilization. But Graf pulled on her as the crowd pressed in on them.

  She gazed up at Givens and saw him struggling ineffectually as the noose was retied around his neck. Her face burned with rage and panic as she was bundled sideways.

  And then she heard the singing of children. The crowd quieted almost instantly.

  "Once in Royal David's City,

  Stood a lowly cattle shed,

  Where a mother laid her baby..."

  The crowd parted to reveal Pastor Smith striding across the square from the church followed by children bearing spirit lanterns. It was like a constellation of stars coming toward them, banishing the darkness.

  By the time they reached the monument, the mob had almost entirely melted away.

  The children spread out around the scene, some of them looking nervously up at the man standing there, but they kept singing and soon other townsfolk had flanked them and were joining in the song of peace.

  Smith stood in front of the cross as if not noticing the criminal standing there. "As we near the day for celebrating the birth of our Savior," he said, "we do not forget his ending. But I'm sure you would not like these innocent children to witness your form of justice, Mr. Petrov."

  Petrov stepped out from behind one of his guards and wagged a finger at Paulie. "You better keep those children around, Sheriff, or see that justice is done quickly. Now, I’m goin’ back to the store to see nothing else is stolen."

  He strode away, waving to the goons to follow and soon the square was deserted save for the police officers, the pastor and his flock. "I suggest you get him into a cell quickly," Smith said. "And then, perhaps, we can have that nightcap."

  "That was a clever move," Paulie said, accepting a tumbler of whisky from Smith. "The singing cut through the ugly mood and the townsfolk knew they didn't want to be responsible for children seeing a lynching."

  Smith sat down opposite her at the little table in the church kitchen. "I'm a clever man," he said, deploying the smile he thought was disarming.

  "I don't know what got into them," she responded as she enjoyed the warmth spreading down her throat.

  "They don't feel safe," Smith said. "I saw it time and again on the road—the less secure people feel, the less they're inclined to forgive others."

  Paulie put down her glass and leaned back in her chair. "But they are safe. Or, at least, a lot safer than outside the barricade."

  "You know that and so do I, but everything is relative. We both know we don't have the means to defend ourselves against a determined attack. I mean, what was the latest count on the weapons you've scavenged?"

  Paulie shrugged. "I don't remember exact figures. Maybe a dozen shotguns, twice that number of handguns and a few assault rifles."

  "And the militia that turned up shortly before I arrived—would it be enough to beat them off?"

  She shook her head. "No. They had a couple of APCs mounted with machine guns and I don't doubt they had other grenades. It would only take a couple to blow open the gate in the barricade. I'm only surprised they haven't returned already."

  "There are plenty of softer targets," Smith said as he drained his glass and winced. "But the better we do here, the more likely they'll be back."

  "So, what's the answer?"

  Smith smiled and, for a moment, the gentle, good humored, man of God disappeared and Paulie thought she glimpsed the steel that hid behind that grin. "We take our inspiration from the word of the Lord. Leviticus 24, verse 20."

  Paulie watched as the pastor poured another round and lifted his glass.

  "An eye for an eye," he said.

  She raised her tumbler and touched it to his.

  "Tooth for a tooth."

  Chapter 5

  Solly watched as the little girl leaned forward and tied the streamer to the top of the wall. She was sitting on the shoulders of an older child called Molly and laughed as her ride jigged around. The joy was infectious and Solly felt a smile spread across his face as they made their way around the room.

  It was Christmas Eve, and the farmhouse was abuzz with anticipation. He, Janice, Arnold and Landon had twenty-four children in their charge, although the eldest of them, including Ross and Jaxon, had been forced to grow up quickly in the last weeks. Half of those children were under two years old and the main concern of the adults was to make sure they were kept warm and fed as winter deepened around them. All but the youngest were being given boiled cow's milk provided by the small herd installed in one of the outer barns. Otherwise, their food stores were adequate for the winter and Solly refused to contemplate anything beyond that.

  So, twenty-four children and one sick old woman. Solly had persuaded the librarian from Hagerstown to return with them to recuperate, but the woman had barely made it. In the darkness of the library, he hadn't noticed how frail she was, and they'd been reduced to carrying her by the time they'd arrived at the farmhouse. She'd been installed in what had once been a sitting room at the back of the house. Arnold had been using it as a bedroom up until then, since having a downstairs bathroom meant he didn't need to be carried up the stairs. But he'd given it up to her and had spent the nights by her bedside and the days snoozing in the armchair.

  He'd also taken responsibility for giving the children the best possible Christmas the circumstances would allow. Somehow Arnold had ensured that every child old enough to appreciate it had a gift to open under the tree that dominated the main room of the farmhouse. Jaxon, it transpired, had played the role of Santa by keeping his eye open for suitable gifts during his many scavenging raids into Hagerstown accompanied by Ross and a couple of older children.

  Solly had been given the task of providing the centerpiece of the meal on Christmas Day. He'd caught three geese in the creek and, through gritted teeth, had dispatched them one by one using the wood hatchet. It was these apparently humdrum activities of country life that reinforced how much had changed since the last time he'd celebrated this time of year. Solly Masters, a man who'd flirted with veganism, was now prepared to take a living thing and kill it without hesitation. He still hated doing it, but they had to eat and at least this way he was being accountable, truly understanding where his food came from for the first time in his life.

  "Where are you going?" Janice said as he got up from the couch. Truth to tell, he'd been pretty comfortable sitting there with his arm around her, warm and dry on a wet winter's night. But he wouldn't be able to truly relax tomorrow, even for one day, if he hadn't settled on a plan of action. "Don't tell me, you're heading for the basement," she added, with a sigh as she watched him leave.

  Solly navigated his way toward the basement door, dodging children burning off their excitement by running around the farmhouse playing tag. And this would be nothing compared with tomorrow. He smiled as he reached the door. It seemed to him that making sure the kids were happy for at least the next couple of days wasn't such a bad aim in life, but, right now, his bigger concern was to ensure their long-term safety.

  The generator was running, so he switched the light on and shivered as a cold draught blew up the stairs. There, on the table, sat the safe containing the cylinder that had cost Jeremiah his life and beside it his pack, its contents spread across the surface.

  The atlas he'd taken from the library lay open and he pulled up a stool to examine it. Behind him, he heard the creak of the basement door opening and footsteps on the stairs. "Hello Ross," he said without looking up, "did she send you after me?"

  "No. I finished my chores and you weren't around, so I came looking. You know, staring at the map won't make the journey any shorter."

  "Neither will delaying it," Solly said.

  "I dunno, but it'll be easier if we
wait till spring, surely?"

  Solly nodded. "I wish we could, but they probably know where we are."

  "Who, Lee Corp?"

  "Yeah. I don't reckon Jeremiah knew they could track the device—he thought it was just him and whoever he's working with. They might have picked up his trail some other way and followed him, but it seems more likely that they're using the same method to find the cylinder as he did."

  Ross pulled up a stool and sat looking at the book. "And the last location was either here, when you pulled it out of the safe, or..."

  "A couple of miles away where they ambushed Jeremiah. Either way, too close for comfort."

  "But they can't track it now, can they?"

  Solly shook his head and picked up a small black box. "I don't think so. Jeremiah's proximity alarm detects when the cylinder is nearby and, even though it's right here, it's not registering at all while it's in the safe. But anyone who comes looking for it will begin their search at the last known location."

  "So what do we do? As soon as you get it out of the safe, they'll be able to find us. I don't reckon we'll get any further than Jeremiah did."

  "You're right," Solly said. "The first job is to find a way to transport this while blocking its transmitter. Then, when we're a good distance away, we can deliberately remove it from its shielding for a while and hopefully take their attention away from here."

  Ross contemplated this for a moment. "Making a fake trail? But how will we get away if they know where we are?"

  "You're determined to come, then?"

  "You promised."

  Shrugging, Solly put the detector in Jeremiah's pack. "That was when I was planning to head to Texas, not on a two and a half thousand mile wild goose chase across the continent."

  "So, you are going to take it to Arbroath, then?"

  Solly sighed and turned around to face the boy. "I honestly don't know, Ross."

  "I can't get my head around it."

  "Well, let me put it this way. If we made it, we'll have traveled farther than Frodo did."

  "But we're not going to walk it are we?"

  Solly looked back at the map. "No. We'll have to car hop. Look at this," he pulled a small electric drill out of Jeremiah's pack. “He used this for draining cars. Judging by the oily smell, he only chose diesels, probably safer than gas. It's a lithium battery, so it keeps its charge for a long time, and I've had it plugged in when the generator's been running, but it's going to be hit and miss. And, when we're draining the fuel, we're vulnerable."

  He stood up and pushed back the chair. "Well, we're not going to find all the answers sitting here and staring at the map. Let's go and see what's going on upstairs—it sounds like chaos." He smiled as he pointed up to the ceiling which was vibrating as children ran back and forth.

  As they climbed the stairs, they heard the clanging of the warning bell.

  Jaxon was outside the front door. "They're in the barn! Landon's on his way around there."

  Solly ran to the armory, unlocked the door and pulled it open. Reluctantly, Solly and Janice had agreed to allow Landon to train Ross and Jaxon to use firearms but had insisted they stick to .22 caliber. Solly had found an old Marlin critter rifle in the farmhouse shed which he now handed to Ross, and Jaxon had unearthed a Ruger SR22 pistol which he'd taken personal responsibility for. Solly hated handing weapons to boys in their mid-teens, but he had no idea how many attackers there were and they couldn't afford to be outgunned. And, after all, the raiders wouldn't know they were facing small caliber weapons.

  They overtook Landon as he limped across the soggy field toward the main storage barn. Solly brushed sleet from his face and then pointed at a pickup truck parked outside the barn. "It's the gang that attacked you at Walmart," he said to Landon. "They're dangerous, so we have to take care. Come on."

  Solly led them on a parabolic path so they moved away from the barn before curving toward it again as they reached the other side. They hid in a small stand of trees at the edge of the field.

  "They're not even bothering to keep a look out," Landon said as he rubbed life back into his leg.

  Solly watched as figures ran back and forth from the barn to the pickup, loading the supplies he'd earmarked for the winter. He counted at least three of them, and they'd be carrying more powerful weapons than Ross and Jaxon's. "You wait here," he said to the boys. "Landon and I will get in close. Provide us with cover fire if things go badly."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Ross asked.

  Landon turned to him. "If you see us a-runnin', shoot at them."

  "I'm coming with you," Jaxon said, moving to follow them.

  Solly grabbed his arm. "No! You wanted weapons, but you have to learn how to take orders. Wait here."

  Jaxon's face tightened but, after a moment, he nodded. "Sure."

  The two men crept along the line of trees until they were parallel with the entrance. A guard stood outside, scanning the lane and the road beyond it. Solly brought his Ruger to bear as Landon raised his shotgun. "Hey!" he called.

  The guard spun around, unsure where the cry had come from.

  "I've got you covered," Solly called. "Now take the stuff you've stolen from us back off the truck and leave it outside the barn."

  Two other men dressed in black coats and pants with balaclavas were now standing beside the guard, their weapons sweeping the tree line.

  One came to the front and called out, "I don't think so. You stole these here supplies and we're just stealin' from you. Now, unless you got a small army hid in them there bushes, I suggest you let us get on with our business and we might leave some for you. But if you try to get in our way, I might just have to go check what I might find in that farmhouse."

  Solly's insides filled with ice. They were too far away for him to be certain of hitting any of the attackers, and as soon as he fired he could expect instant and high caliber retaliation.

  "I'm coming out," he called. "I want to talk."

  The leader laughed out loud. "Sure, why not?" He turned to the others and they resumed loading the sacks of grain and boxed supplies.

  Solly stood up with his hands held high, allowing the Ruger to fall out of his grip. He began walking toward the barn. "I'm unarmed."

  The man in black kept his handgun pointed at Solly as he approached. "That's close enough. Now, I guess you feel responsible for the folks in that farmhouse. Kids from the sound of it."

  "I do. And they need food for the winter—food you're stealing."

  The man shrugged dismissively. "You've been pretty resourceful to find this much, I reckon you can find more. Tell you what, we'll leave you a little and you can re-supply."

  "There is no more," Solly responded.

  "Well, I'm sure a man like you could use his imagination. We'll be back in four weeks, and we'll take half of what you gather."

  "And what do we get?"

  Again, the little shrug. "You get to survive, my friend."

  "But you don't need this much, surely?"

  The man's face spread into a smile. "Business is business," he said.

  So, that was it. These scum would steal their food and then sell it. They'd probably try to sell it back to him. And given the efficiency and confidence they were showing, Solly suspected his wasn't the only farm they were extorting from.

  "I suggest you leave us to finish what we're doing. It's cold out here," the man said.

  With a sudden crack, splinters exploded from the corner of the barn. Something punched into Solly's cheek, but he ignored the pain, glanced at the leader of the bandits who had reeled backwards from the shot, pulled Mona's revolver from his inside pocket and pulled the trigger.

  The bullet ripped through the man's neck and he fell to the ground, his hands wrapped around his throat as he desperately tried to stem the flow.

  One of the others emerged from the barn, his gun pointing directly at Solly who was late in bringing his own weapon up. Another crack and the attacker collapsed. Solly turned to see Jaxon and
Ross running across the field, with Landon doing his best to join them.

  A bullet zipped past his ear and he took a dive. He could see feet on the other side of the pickup. He took aim and fired. The feet disappeared, and he saw the man rolling on the asphalt crying in pain.

  The leader had gone quiet as Landon looked down at the second attacker. "He's dead. Lucky shot," he said. "I'll go check on the other one behind the truck."

  Jaxon and Ross ran up and hugged him.

  "Who took the pot shot?" he said.

  Jaxon, looking a little sheepish, put his hand up. "Nice one."

  "Landon got the other one," Ross said.

  Solly let the boys go. "Now we just have to figure out what to do with the one I shot in the foot."

  He turned to follow Landon around the car. There was a cry of fear followed by a bang and Solly found Landon standing over the last guard. "Problem solved," he said. "Merry Christmas."

  Chapter 6

  The farmhouse was full of the sounds of children playing and laughing, forgetting for a while the nightmares of the last weeks, yet Solly sat, hardly watching them, in his own personal cloud of despair.

  He'd spent the previous afternoon burying the bandits in the woods that overlooked the farm. The children had been terrified by the shoot-out, and it had been all Janice could do to keep them contained in the house until it was over. When he'd returned to the farm, she'd thrown her arms around each of them in turn and let the children out of the main room.

  Jaxon, Ross and Landon had helped drag the bodies across the field while Janice and Arnold kept the kids away from the windows. They'd spent a wet and miserable few hours digging a hole in the ground deep and wide enough for the purpose. Jaxon had surprised Solly by asking to say a few words over the freshly filled grave, and they'd trooped back to the house.

  Solly had organized a watch schedule for the night as he was concerned that they might have been part of a larger gang, though he thought it more likely that they were working alone. The only good thing to come out of the affair was that they now had a pickup truck with a full tank of diesel.