The Long Night Box Set

by Kevin Partner

  She ran her tray along the counter, nodding and shaking her head as she went, then took it to the least occupied table she could find.

  Bella sat down and absentmindedly picked her way through her meal, thinking of nothing, seeing nothing.

  "Bella, thank the Lord."

  She recognized the voice and something about its urgent tone cut through her malaise. Raising her eyes, she looked into a familiar face. A face she thought she'd never see again.

  "Nathan?"

  "You remember me, then?" he said, sitting down opposite her. A smile spread across the handsome face of Nathan Woods.

  "I thought you were dead?"

  The smile turned into a grim chuckle. "Why would you think that?"

  "The house was burned down."

  "Yes, I'm sorry about that. I wasn't inside."

  She noticed the subtle emphasis on the noun and she suspected that Nathan had lured the remaining bikers into the house and set it alight with them trapped inside. Right now, however, this didn't concern her. "What are you doing here?"

  The smile disappeared. "I was hiking toward Houston when I ran into someone who told me of the new government in Texas, so I made my way in this direction. I've been here for a few weeks, even got my stripes." He turned his arm to show two chevrons. "Sergeant Woods."

  Bella tried to smile but found it impossible. "They took Maddie, Nathan."

  "I know. I'm sorry."

  "And Jake's been enlisted."

  Nathan nodded. "I know that, too. I asked to have him assigned to my unit so I can keep an eye on him."

  Suddenly, Bella felt as though at least some of the weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you, Nathan. Thank you so much."

  She remembered the serious doubts she'd had about Woods when he'd executed a man in a parking lot, but right now she was relieved to know that he would watch out for her son.

  "There's only so much I can do," he said. "But what I can do, I will."

  Bella took his hands and squeezed them.

  "Look, I can't help Maddie, but I can do something for you," he said, looking from left to right as if afraid of being overheard.

  He reached into his pocket and slid a square laminated card across the table under his hand, pressing it into hers. "Don't look at it here."

  "What is it?"

  "A civilian pass," he said, barely moving his lips.

  "Where did you get it?"

  He shook his head slightly. "Never you mind. Just hand it in at the gate and they should let you through. If you take my advice, you'll go just before noon—there'll be a queue at that time and the guards don't check as thoroughly. Amateurs. There aren't many regulars like me in this new army."

  "But where do I go?"

  "Out of TLX. Take the back roads when you reach the border, they're not all barricaded. Jake told me about his grandfather—I suggest you find out what happened to him. Then go home. I'll do my best to find out about Maddie, though I can't do much for her."

  Bella leaned forward. "I can't leave my children!"

  "They need to know you're safe, Bella. It'll give them hope. It won't always be like this here," he said, though he sounded distinctly unsure.

  She wiped her eyes. Jake was lost to her but being watched by a man who'd proven himself by saving their lives back at the old house. It was Maddie her heart ached for.

  "Look, I know what you're thinking, but I reckon she's safe for a while."

  "Safe from what?"

  His face dropped. "You know. She won't be married until they've run tests to check her fertility. And, anyway, it makes sense to wait for her to grow a little before she becomes pregnant."

  "She's not a sow," Bella hissed. The people at the next table turned to look at them, but she pulled herself together and squeezed Nathan's hand, making it look as though it was a simple lover's quarrel.

  "I know, I'm just trying to reassure you a little."

  Bella sat silently looking at the stern face of the young man. She drew in a deep breath. "Thank you, Nathan. I owe you more than I could ever repay."

  "You saved my life," was the simple reply.

  "My father did that. I wouldn't have stopped if he hadn't made me," she said, remembering the sight of the soldier as he lay in the road on that first night, looking like all the other dead bodies.

  "Then go save your father," Nathan said.

  Chapter 15

  Paulie awoke suddenly from a nightmare and let out a shriek of fear as her eyes opened onto utter blackness. It took several seconds for her to remember where she was and for her conscious mind to banish the monsters circling in her dreams.

  She'd been driving south for two days, car hopping as each ran out of gas. Paulie couldn't even remember what make of vehicle she was sleeping in, but she knew it was at least the third different one. As dusk had fallen, she'd pulled into a service area beside I-5 at a place whose name she'd also forgotten. The gas station had been burned to the ground, but behind it lay a small group of industrial units. She'd driven the car into an empty one and pulled down the shutter behind her. She didn't want to think about what was causing the stink in here, but it was too late to go anywhere else, so she shut the windows and hunkered down.

  With no one to share guard duty, she was forced to find the most deserted places to snatch a few hours of sleep when exhaustion forced her to rest. The journey so far had been a frustrating mix of picking her way between rotting vehicles, short stretches where she could put her foot down a little, and complete blockages that left her scrambling along the grass roadside or resorting to back roads.

  One surprise was that, as she headed south, she began to notice people on the roads going north. Some were driving like her, others were walking. To begin with, they'd been traveling in small groups of two or three, but more recently the groups had gotten larger. She wondered where they were going but didn't stop. Paulie was on a mission to track down her daughter and, if she was still alive, to bring her to Arbroath and some semblance of safety.

  What was that sound?

  She sat up straight and drew her gun. Had she imagined it? Was it just the random noises a car's suspension makes when you move?

  There it was again. A whimpering, pathetic moan. She pulled the flashlight out of the glovebox and shone it out of the grimy car windows but could see nothing. Icy fear laced her body but there was nothing else for it, she'd have to get out of the car and trace the source of the noise.

  She opened the door of the car as quietly as she could and swung the torch light around the floor of the workshop, catching her breath on the ghastly smell. The beam illuminated metal racking stacked with dusty boxes full of car parts, but there was no sign of whatever was in here with her.

  Paulie noticed she was holding her breath and made a conscious decision to draw in a deep gulp of the fetid air before edging around the car and checking the other side of the workshop. More shelving, more boxes and a trade counter near the side door.

  The noise, and the worst of the smell, was coming from that direction. Moving slowly forward with her flashlight in one hand, her handgun in the other, she rounded the counter and swung the light around.

  Green eyes flashed in the darkness and she gave a yell, stepped back, drew a breath and looked again.

  "Oh, you poor thing," she said, kneeling.

  The dog was so thin that Paulie could count its ribs as she examined it with the beam of her flashlight. It looked up at her, making a mute appeal—but whether that should be deliverance from its suffering or a chance at salvation, Paulie couldn't guess. Was it beyond saving?

  She stood up and the dog's eyes followed her as she walked back around the counter, its plaintive cry echoing in the dark workshop. Paulie had managed to scrounge some supplies on her journey and had hit it lucky with the car before this one which had a trunk full of food. She'd wondered at the time why its occupants had abandoned it, but that mystery was forgotten as she rummaged for the sterilized milk she knew was there. She had no idea
whether this would be good for the dog, but it would at least show whether it had any life left in it. If it had no appetite, it was a lost cause.

  When she returned, the dog had dragged itself a few inches out of its bed, but its back legs couldn't hold its weight. She found a bowl on one of the metal shelves, poured a little milk into it and put it down in front of the dog. With obvious and instant relish, the creature lapped it down in seconds. Well, that answered the first question. Since it was showing signs of life, she had an obligation to help it. And, besides, she liked the idea of having some company.

  She sat, stroking the dog and comforting it as it drank the milk and they then shared a can of meat. And, together, they waited for the night to end.

  The dog, it turned out, was called Dany. As Paulie read the tag, it made her unaccountably sad to connect, for a moment, with the Game of Thrones fan who had once run this little workshop. She had no idea where the owner might be, but it was certain he or she was dead. Dany was a mongrel whose ancestry seemed to include elements of Golden Retriever and German Shepherd. She was mainly tan colored, with dark markings on her face and pointed ears, and she'd rallied quickly as soon as she'd been fed. There was no way of knowing how old she was until she'd fattened up a little, but Paulie guessed she was on the younger side.

  Paulie found her lead, bowls and a supply of dry food in the little kitchenette at the back of the workshop. As she was packing them into the trunk, she turned to see Dany emerge from behind the counter. Her back legs were still very wobbly, and she was still emaciated, but a little food and water had worked wonders.

  "Don't worry," Paulie said, "I wasn't going to leave you behind."

  She put the harness around the dog's chest, and tightened it to fit, then used the lead to help haul her up onto the passenger seat, before opening the shutters and flooding the little unit with morning light. Fortunately, the smell in the workshop hadn't come directly from the dog, but rather from what she'd left behind, so she didn't need a bath.

  Today's mission was to get past Portland. It was around a hundred miles south of where she'd stayed the night, so she'd decided to set off as soon as the sun was up. To her delight, she discovered some jerrycans out back containing gasoline, so she loaded those into the back of the SUV and, with Dany as her navigator, headed back onto I-5.

  Within minutes, the dog was asleep on the front seat, so Paulie weaved in and out of the parked traffic without canine assistance, enjoying Dany's rhythmic snoring. She pulled over after a couple of hours and let the dog out for a comfort break. Dany's back legs were getting stronger and she wolfed down the small portion of tinned meat Paulie gave her, licking the bowl with such fervor that it was all Paulie could do to deny her any more. Little and often, that made the most sense.

  They got back in the car and made better progress. Dany stayed awake this time, enjoying the warmth of the heated car seat and air conditioning, and it was her barking that first alerted Paulie to movement. They were on a raised section of highway heading over a town and there was a collection of flat roofed buildings gathered around a series of fields to their right. Paulie could see what Dany had spotted—people were moving, lots of people.

  She stopped the car and got out to take a look. She watched for ten minutes or so, looking for any sign of military equipment, but it looked for all the world like a peaceful settlement. Someone was cooking because white smoke rose from several points and she could just discern a deliciously rich aroma on the breeze. Dany could smell it too, Paulie could see her sticking her nose out of the open window of the car.

  In the days that followed, Paulie couldn't explain what had prompted her to take the car off the highway and investigate this community. Perhaps it was fate at work.

  A man carrying a shotgun stepped forward as she approached the makeshift barrier at the end of the approach road.

  Dany started barking the instant she saw him but quieted at a command.

  "Welcome to the showground," he said. Then he spotted Paulie's uniform. "Good grief, are you police?"

  "My name's Sheriff Paulina Ramos," she said, flashing her badge at the wide-eyed guard. "I'm heading south and just wanted to stop by and see what you folks are up to."

  The guard was a young man who looked as though he'd just wandered in from gathering the harvest. "Wow. Johnson's sure gonna be pleased to see you. Head right on in and I'll send a message. But you don't wanna be headin' south, that's where the worst of it is. Everyone's comin' this way."

  Paulie wanted to ask more, but he'd withdrawn his head and was waving her past the barrier as it was lifted out of the way. She could hear him talking excitedly to the others there and watching her as she went.

  A few people turned to glance at her as she drove into the car park of what looked like a convention center, but the general lack of interest suggested that arrivals were pretty commonplace. She locked the car, checked that her Glock was in its holster beneath her jacket and helped Dany out. The dog seemed delighted to be among people again, even managing to wag her tail as she made her unsteady way beside Paulie.

  Paulie rubbed her hands against the chill and headed toward one of the many oil drum fires burning in the plaza outside the main building. A man and a woman stood beside the one she chose and returned her greeting cheerfully. When they told her they'd come from just north of LA, her heart froze for a moment and she wondered why she was wasting her time here when she could be on the road south to find her daughter. She was just turning around when a voice called out to her.

  "Sheriff!"

  A large man was carving his way through the crowd, waving to her as he went. He approached with his hand out, almost crushing hers as she shook it.

  "Johnson Green, mayor of this little community of Clark County," he said, his double chins wobbling in his enthusiasm.

  "Paulina Ramos, sheriff of Arbroath," she said.

  His expression froze mid wobble. "Arbroath? You're from there?"

  "Yes," Paulie responded, surprised and mildly alarmed by his recognizing the name. "Do you know it?"

  "I've never been there, but I've heard tell that it's a safe place. Surely you've passed people walking north? That's where they're heading. We have so little room here."

  The cogs of Paulie's mind ground as she considered this. "What do they imagine they'll find? It's hardly a nirvana."

  "They're looking for safety, sheriff. But please let me give you a tour of our little community."

  Reeling from this new problem for her hometown, she allowed herself to be guided toward the main building, Dany walking along beside her.

  "We would certainly appreciate any advice you have for tightening up security," Green was saying as they walked through the double doors and inside.

  "You have a generator," Paulie said, stating the obvious. One in three of the striplights were on, giving a dim but usable illumination to the white and beige interior of the building.

  "Yes, finding enough fuel is one of our biggest challenges, so we only allow minimal lighting. People have to be sheltered, but we need light to work by."

  They passed a public cafeteria in which small groups of people sat at tables looking out over the fields.

  "My biggest concern is keeping the hospital supplied," Green said. "We're blessed to have two qualified doctors and half a dozen nurses but finding the drugs they need to do their job is a constant struggle."

  The last thing Paulie wanted to do right now was look at sick people for fear of acquiring another chain of responsibility that would keep her from traveling south, but she had no choice as Green guided her gently but firmly in that direction. She tied up Dany outside and glanced back to see the dog watching her intently.

  The lights were brighter here, and the hospital had the air of an efficiently organized operation as people moved with confidence from bed to bed.

  "There's a hotel next door," Green said. "We got the beds from there."

  There were perhaps a dozen patients in the little hospital, arranged ar
ound the wall facing inwards, hidden in the shadows from the light flooding through the windows. A woman in a white coat was examining a patient and talking to a small figure sitting beside the bed. She stood up when she heard them approach and walked toward them, her face a picture of exhaustion.

  "Doctor Brown, I'd like to introduce someone to you."

  The doctor looked less than interested as her tired eyes turned to Paulie. "Pleased to meet you," she lied, holding out a limp hand.

  Paulie felt desperately sorry for someone who was clearly operating beyond the bounds of reasonable endurance. "Sorry to disturb you, we'll be going now," she said.

  "Tell her where you're from," Green prompted. He was obviously a man to whom empathy was a foreign country.

  Paulie sighed but decided that the quickest way out of this was to play along. "I'm from Arbroath, Kalama County."

  The doctor's eyes brightened a little. "Really? Is it true that you've established law and order there? And a hospital?"

  Paulie's mind flitted to images of her rag tag group of deputies and the medical room in the basement of the department store and shook her head. "From what I've seen here, you're doing at least as well as we are."

  "I'm not so sure about that," Brown said. "Folks here don't feel secure—we've been raided before and it's only a matter of time before it happens again."

  "The sheriff is going to give me some advice on security, Gladys," Green said. "I'm sure it's better for people to remain here than to head out onto the roads. Safety in numbers and all that."

  The patient in the bed behind them moaned.

  "Look, I've got to get back to my patients. Come back later, will you? I'd like to know how things are out there," Brown said.

  She put her hand out again and Paulie shook it. "Sheriff Paulina Ramos," she said.

  "What? Ramos? Your name's Ramos?"

  Puzzled, Paulie gave a little shrug and nodded.