“You say that like I’m some sort of freak who doesn’t help people.”
Zach didn’t say anything. Which was somehow worse. He thought so enough to not argue with her. “Whatever, Zach. Go be righteous. Believe in your own fantasies.”
“Lizzie, you don’t trust people with power. You were always spouting off about being spied on. NSA is, or was, Big Brother! Remember the Patriot Act? Being afraid to text naked pics because some NSA guys would probably print it out and pass it around the office for a laugh? Remember being afraid to Google how to blow stuff up because the government might be knocking on your door?”
“I’m more worried about the fact that I can’t fucking leave town without a ‘may I please thank you’ to some man somewhere.” Her finger did poke him this time.
“I’m not telling you what you can and can’t do.”
“Bullshit.” She turned and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you. Some place dangerous. If I may please thank you?” She did have someone dangerous to see.
Zach let out a rough breath. “Whatever. It’s your place.”
“Yeah, no shit. Lock the door when you leave. I’ve got someone to visit.”
Lizzie steadied her nerves as she walked down the cinder-block halls of the Provo Correctional Facility. A second barred door slid aside for her and she stepped through. They clanged shut behind her as she continued on. She shoved her hands in her pockets to keep her from twiddling them. This was far too reminiscent of previous confinements in Lizzie’s life.
Most recently it had been Travis on this side of the bars, and her in the cell—when she’d first arrived in Utah. Things were better now. She was a citizen of Provo, and protected. Travis was locked up. He couldn’t hurt anybody any more.
The guard behind her said, “Go through the next door when it buzzes. He’s the third cell on the right.”
Lizzie followed the directions, and each wall revealed more stark emptiness. She shivered as she came closer. At—least there would be metal bars between them.
A speaker in the ceiling crackled as she stepped through the door. “Travis. You have a visitor.”
“No shit? Who’s trying to save me now?”
“It’s me, Travis.”
“Lizzie? Wow, to what do I owe this honor?” He sat up from his lounging position.
It unnerved her that he recognized her so quickly. She hardly recognized him. His hair was shaggier, unkempt, and a couple inches longer. And his face was covered by a bushy, blond beard that went from his ears to his shirt collar.
“You look good. Not as good as the first time I saw you going for a walk in the cold—” His leer set her skin on edge.
“You look like shit, Travis.” She leaned back against the solidity of the cold cement wall. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard you were still in here.”
“Yeah. They can’t seem to decide what to do with me. I think they’re afraid I’ll stir up trouble if they banish me.”
“Yeah. Sounds like maybe they’re smart. Somebody was talking about wanting you released and banished, you know.” She kept her voice steady, but just being this close to him was vile—like being too close to a dead rat.
“Oh, yeah? Who?” He actually looked hopeful for a second.
“Quentin Blocker’s mom sends her regards.” Lizzie enjoyed the momentary deflation of Travis’ posture. “She says she hopes you get banished soon.”
“Well, you can’t always get what you want.” He stood and strolled toward the bars. “Why’d you really come? You hot for me? That’s it isn’t it?”
“Yeah, think whatever you want, mountain man.” She turned away and walked to the door. She pushed the button and said, “I’m ready to get out.”
“Come back any time you want to see me, Lizzie. Maybe you can wear that hot lil’ number you wore when we first met—you know I should’ve touched those naked tits! When I get outta here, I am gonna come for them. You’re mine, bitch!”
She didn’t waste another ‘Fuck you,’ on him, but forced herself to walk, not run away.
The door buzzed and she pushed through back into the lighter and warmer hallway. She shook and rubbed her arms, as if trying to clear away the cobwebs of his nastiness. And it wasn’t just seeing him that creeped her out, being on the outside of the prison cell looking in had her feeling claustrophobic. If she never saw another prison cell the rest of her life it would be too soon.
Chapter Fourteen
MANNIE DROVE FASTER ON THE WAY back toward the Data Center, sticking as close to his own tracks as he could. He hoped snow would come soon and obscure them. He couldn’t put his finger on anything, but he had a bad feeling about where Provo was headed. And he had a daughter and a new chosen family to care for.
He pulled into the fire station, happy and relieved to see Rubi sitting there undisturbed—though it left an eerie aftertaste in him to see the world so deserted, at least in Provo it seemed like there were still people left. He backed the SUV into the garage and turned the engine off and hustled over to Rubi to check the cell phone. Two messages. Lizzie and Foote. “Shit.”
He hit redial. “Captain Foote? Sorry, I forgot my cell on the charger in the Jeep.”
“No big deal, Mannie. Just a second.”
Mannie could hear muffled voices in the background. He waited impatiently.
“Guerrero? You have anything urgent to deal with back here?”
Mannie chuckled. “Well, sir, I called you first, but I’ve got a message from my pregnant daughter. I doubt it’s urgent. What do you need?”
“I’d like you to dig in and observe the Data Center overnight. We’ll check in with you.”
“But what about my other work, sir?”
“Mannie, I happen to know how much you hate that desk. Your new assistant has it handled—some kind of administrative dynamo.”
“Respectfully, sir, don’t you get any ideas about stealing her while I’m away.”
Captain Foote’s baritone laugh boomed in the phone.
“Scrounge up some chow and call me when you’re in position. If you need us to check up on your daughter, let me know.”
Oh, Lizzie would love that. “Not necessary, I’m sure.”
“Fine. I’ll expect to hear from you in the next couple hours.”
“Affirmative, Captain.”
After he got off the phone with Captain Foote, he tapped voice-mail to see if Lizzie had left one.
“Dad? This is Lizzie. Just wanted to vent. Call me back if you want. Mostly, I wanted to tell you I love you. Bye.”
The negative attitude he got whenever dealing with bureaucracy adjusted itself as the thought about his daughter wanting to share her life with him. She didn’t sound too stressed.
He reached into the glove box and dug for the Bluetooth earpiece he’d shoved in there. He put it on as he started Rubi and called Lizzie.
“Hey, Dad—I’m better.”
“No need for me, huh?”
“I’m happy to talk. What’re you up to?”
Mannie thought for a moment about how to answer.
“Oh. Can’t tell me?”
“Not really. Nothing too important.”
“Okay. Then I can talk about me.”
He pictured her self-conscious grin. “What’s up, Lizzie?”
“Not much really. Pissed off about being stuck here, like a prize pig at a fair. I can’t even have a fucking PBR, even if liked the shit.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“Nobody wants you to feel like a prisoner.”
“Are you sure?”
Mannie didn’t have an answer. Not a good one. “Have you tried to put in a request?”
“No,” Lizzie sighed. “I don’t want to talk to the LaFevbre woman. Seems like Le Fever should have killed her. Sorry. Not nice. Sorry to be negative.” Lizzie forced cheer into her voice. “Could be worse.”
“Yeah.” He kept
his interjections brief. Years of experience taught him to let a woman get stuff off her chest when she needed to.
“When are you going to be home?”
“Tomorrow, I think. I heard Nev’s done miracles in my office.”
Lizzie laughed loudly. “Wouldn’t take much. She’s always been organized. All right. Saj is tugging on my shirt tails. Later, I love you.”
“I love you, too, Elizabeth.” He watched the phone disconnect. Then his other phone rang. “Hello.”
“Daddy,” Lizzie whispered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not in the danger zone, Lizzie.”
“You’re not in the city.”
“No, but I’m safe. And I’m glad you gave me the GlenPhone. Tell you more later.”
“All right. Take care of yourself. G’night.”
“Good night, Elizabeth.” The phone faded as she hung up.
It had been a long day and it was far from over for him. Better add caffeine to his grocery list. And a lot of it.
Mannie snuggled down into the sleeping bag, wishing he had someone to hold. And the face he didn’t want to see came to him unbidden. Jess had been haunting his dreams since he’d met her. That flash of a pink belly button ring as she stretched, the twisting guilt, and all those other feelings.
He fixed his attention on the Data Center to escape. It didn’t work well until an ugly old station wagon pulled out of the gate and a soldier appeared as it passed by. The car weaved around and disappeared over the small hill toward Bluffdale and Camp Williams. Mannie watched until the soldier had disappeared again and the gate closed.
Then he turned his attention to the highway. The station wagon did not come his way. So. The old guy Zach and Lizzie had mentioned came from the north. He made some notes in his waterproof notebook. Finally, some action.
He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, after that little bit of action the place sealed up tight as a drum once more. After a few minutes his mind drifted back to lonely thoughts. Jess. If it was right, then what was holding him back? He was nothing if not bold, that’s what Isabela always said. What he was feeling now was simply physical attraction toward someone who made it clear that she wanted him. As much as it felt good, it would pass.
Lizzie walked out of the classroom and down the hall wishing Betsy had been there to make the day more tolerable. At least Jess was going to meet her for lunch. Outside a crowd of people gathered across the street.
A police car sat with its lights spinning lazily. She stopped at the glass doorway, wondering if the lights were for her. She saw Jess coming up the stairs. She shoved the door open and stepped out into the crisp afternoon.
“What’s all the hubbub?” Lizzie asked.
“A banishing.” Jess’ eyes were wide.
“A banishing?”
Jess pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “There was one while you were still in the hospital.
“Yesterday?”
“No, when you were shot. That one was someone who’d beaten up one of the dog-people. They give them a speedy trial and then the sentence is carried out. They're sent out of town.”
The PA started to feedback and then a microphone popped. “Check. Check.”
Lizzie heard a scratchy male voice through the speakers mounted on a flatbed truck. It still had some red, white and blue ribbon from a past life in a parade. She was too short to see around the people in front of her.
“Provo Utah Community Court has made its decision. Bring the prisoner forward.”
Then she could see the top of someone’s bald head, bent over as if its owner was praying.
“Mr. Ray will read a few words before the sentence is passed.”
Mr. Ray stepped up to the microphone, she saw a glimpse of the gray-haired man in a now-rumpled business suit. He cleared his throat into the microphone and everyone nearby cringed at the squeal of feedback.
“When the pandemic hit and those of us who were left chose to band together here, it was with the understanding that we would protect the young, the infirm, the sick and downtrodden. It saddens me to send you from The City. But it is by no means a death sentence. Please use this as an opportunity for a fresh start. Judge?”
She saw him walk back the way he’d come. His head, too, was bowed. He looked a lot older than he had a few days ago.
“I am Judge Larry Shoen. Terry Green, a jury of your peers has decided that you did commit the crimes against humanity of which you are accused. Taking advantage of one of the less capable survivors is a moral, ethical and legal crime. The sentence is banishment. If anyone wishes of their own free will to accompany you, they may speak now and share your transport. Are there any such people?”
The silence stilled the cold streets. Lizzie hugged Jess.
Then the voice continued. “As Mr. Ray said, use this as an opportunity to start over. Somewhere else. If you are found within a 25-mile radius of the city after you are released, your life will be forfeit. The will of the people is carried out. Take him away.”
Lizzie heard a car start up. Then the crowd in the street parted. A police car with its lights spinning pulled slowly forward. The bald, bearded man glared out the side of the car, catching Lizzie’s eye, his face found hers and stared at her even as the car pulled away. An icy, icky chill crept over Lizzie’s skin.
Jess grasped her coat and pulled her off the street toward home. “Come on, Lizzie.” After a block or so, when they were away from the crowd Jess stopped. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. The way he looked at me.” She shuddered.
“Thank god we’re here and safe.”
Lizzie pulled Jess to her. “Yes. Safer than out there anyway.”
“Hey, you wanna come to work with me after lunch?”
“To cuddle cute animals? Hell yeah.”
“Can you get out of class?”
“Do you think I care?” Lizzie smiled.
“All right.” Jess grinned. “Let’s get lunch then. There’s this place called Zeke's. Great burgers.”
Mannie heard a low rumble and lifted his head from the snow pillow he’d built under the mummy bag. It had been a couple hours since the station wagon had gone.
A troop truck appeared at the gate; Mannie focused his binoculars and saw a driver and passenger in front both fully accoutered in combat garb. When it pulled up, a dozen or so men circled around the back.
Flashlights swept the interior and then the soldiers waved them through. The gate clanged shut. Mannie kept the binoculars up, scanning back and forth. A squad poured out of the truck, into one of the buildings. The driver and passenger got out and stood around smoking cigarettes.
About ten minutes later another squad came out of the building and loaded into the truck to be shipped off to wherever their replacements had come from. How many months had they been guarding this data center undermanned after the virus wiped out most of them? Were they getting tired? Losing their edge?
The truck, like the station wagon before it, didn’t come down the hill. They must be barracked up the road at Camp Williams. The dark had stolen on him without notice.
When all was quiet again he reported back to Foote. A decision was made to post a permanent watch on the facility. His replacement was already on the way. Before he returned to Provo, Foote wanted him to explore Camp Williams.
Mannie wondered what the game was. DiSilvio and Foote didn’t have the sort of force that could take out a squad of crack U.S. troops. Mannie pulled his sleeping bag tight around him, hoping to get a catnap before his replacement came.
A shuffle nearby in the snow pulled Mannie from slumber. He drew his sidearm, warm from being against his body. He hesitated; he said he wouldn’t kill for Foote or any commander, those days were gone.
His phone vibrated softly. He lay still, trying to see in all directions at once. All was silent. Eyes trained in the direction he thought the noise had come from, he slipped his left hand inside his pocket. He saw a name on the screen, and chanced answering
. “Zach,” he hissed. “That you?”
“Yeah,” a soft reply came back. “I’m here to replace you.”
Mannie relaxed, squinting into the snow. ”Shit, Zach! I could have shot you.”
A white shape in winter camouflage detached itself from a snowdrift. “That’s exactly why I called,” he said, hanging up the now unnecessary phone.
“You’re my relief?”
Zach nodded in the dim light.
“You look like the Abominable Snowman.”
“Camo is just a smart clothing option out here—when you don’t want to be seen.”
Mannie glanced back at Zach. He was a good kid. Too bad things hadn’t worked out with him and Lizzie; Mannie wasn’t so sure about Duke.
He shoved the sleeping bag in on itself, as he trudged back to Rubi, his task done. He’d given them what they asked for: intel.
Mannie’s hands were freezing as he started the engine, turning the heat on. The windshield sparkled with spreading patches of ice. Maybe the desk wasn’t so bad. At least it was warm.
After lunch, Lizzie walked through the aisles at the new Humane Society building with Jess. Lots and lots of animals. “I had no idea there were so many.”
“Pets now outnumber pet owners by, like, a lot.”
Row upon row of cages and carriers, sometimes stacked two high, lined the concrete floors of the converted warehouse. They were filled with dogs and cats, young and old. There was even a row of bird cages, turtle-filled kiddie pools, and aquariums containing all manner of creature from angelfish to iguanas. The noise was unbearable. Meowing, yipping, and screeching. Notes reaching into frequencies that even Lizzie couldn’t appreciate.
“And you’re determined to stay no kill?” Lizzie couldn’t fathom how they were going to find homes for a fraction of these animals.
“Yes,” Jess replied, tight-lipped.
Lizzie didn’t ask how they would manage once pet food started running out. The people of Provo were not going to give up their own resources to keep this project going. If things got tight, people might start looking at less pleasant protein alternatives.
Deserted Lands (Book 2): Straight Into Darkness Page 12
