by J. L. Salter
****
As Roger and Wade noisily returned from the Community’s main complex, Pete and several others gathered around the golf cart before either occupant could disembark.
Wade’s report was first. “A bunch of old folks already there, but some went back home. They ain’t got no power.”
Some of the audience likely admired Wade’s brevity, but Pete obviously wanted more information so he turned to Roger.
“A few folks have trickled in to the main building, but since the electricity’s out in that complex, some returned back home. Most people are likely still in their condos. The assembly area’s coordinator has been trying to contact someone in authority, but there’s significant confusion due to the extent of the drill and the number of resources which are off-line so as not to confuse real emergency response. The result is they can’t do much of anything.”
“Ain’t that what I just said?” Wade seemed genuinely miffed, which was ignored.
“Why is their power out?” Pete clutched Roger’s shoulder.
“One of their assignments for today’s drill was to test their backup generators. When they turned off the power, it flipped some other switch.” Roger shook his head. “Must’ve triggered something else. Now they’re on generators only and those are running the machines related to life support and such.”
“What about phone lists?” Irene was right beside her husband. “They’re supposed to have immediate contact with all the residents in this Community.”
Roger held up his hands. “The up-to-date phone list is only on their computer, they said. With the power out, they can’t get to the list. Plus their wired phones are dead just like these down here.”
Wade evidently wanted the last word. “I told ‘em what was happening down here. They said to send as many folks to the main building that could get there safe and sound.”
Irene’s jaw moved slightly, like it did when she threaded a sewing needle. It was clear that she finally had her own mission. She went back inside to look for Florence and Helen.
Most of the others soon drifted away, but Pete hadn’t moved. Sarge needs more intel.
“We also checked that other road, but I’m not clear where I was.” Roger pointed vaguely behind him.
“The south way in and out of the Community is not very visible — South Pleasant Drive. It winds around and up a hill and changes name to Winston Court, then goes through a small cluster of residences. Then down a little hill and around.” Pete’s hand made the movements. “Then it practically becomes the parking lot of a church. Suddenly you’re on Whiskey Road. You can get out to 27 from there.”
Wade appeared to tune out their conversation. He was looking at the 600-by-240-foot common area of grassy ruts which sloped dramatically to the east. It was obvious his brain was working on something which hadn’t fully formed itself yet.
Pete tapped Roger’s upper arm to indicate the importance of his query. “Tell me what else you saw.”
Roger’s face squeezed up a bit as he remembered. “From the fence and gate — and mounds of dirt — at the intersection of the new roadbed, Serenity is clear past your street, past Cordial, past the nursing home complex, but only to where it hits South Pleasant at that sharp turn. That’s the temporary repair ditch you told us about.”
“Why isn’t South Pleasant clear after Serenity stops at that intersection?” Pete looked over Roger’s shoulder as though he could see the road mentioned.
“Well, that’s the odd thing. There’s a tractor-trailer jack-knifed across the road. Just barely beyond that intersection.”
That was Lyin’ Leo’s story earlier. “Explain.”
“I couldn’t get much sense out of the staff up at the complex. But what I understand is the driver keeled over with a heart attack or something. After he’d run half-way off the road with his cab in the ditch and his trailer sprawled across the road, somebody noticed and checked on the situation. A medical team hustled down there, pulled him out, and hauled him on a gurney all the way back to the nursing home section. They’ve got him stabilized and waiting on a regular ambulance. But, of course, all the ambulances are tied up with the drill treating mock casualties.”
“If that road’s blocked by the truck, how’d you and Lawrence get further south?”
“Well I got out to lessen the weight and Wade basically drove his golf cart down in the ditch and back up the other side. I was sure he’d get stuck. No ordinary car or truck is light enough to do that.” Roger closed his eyes briefly. “Maybe a four-wheeler or something.”
“Another road closed.” Pete stroked his chin absent-mindedly. “That explains why nobody’s moved from the nursing home complex. Okay. Okay. You got around the wrecked truck. Could you see much near the end of South Pleasant?” Pete’s questions had intensity, but he was not abrupt.
“No residents outside. No sign of those gang-bangers either. I think all the bad guys are up here on the north end of Pleasant and maybe got as far south as Cordial, where Aunt Lucille lives. Of course, that’s cut off by the utility trench.”
“We better hope they’re all here in front of us. You don’t want to fight the enemy in both directions.” Pete paused to consider that frightening prospect. “So how far south did you go?”
“Past where it changes to Winston. Then all the way down to the church on Whiskey.” Roger’s hand made the curve in the air. “Didn’t see a soul. Not a truck or car in sight.”
“So no gangsters or their vans anywhere down there.” Pete stroked his chin. “I’ll bet those crooks don’t know about that back way. It’s not even on some of the local maps.”
Mitch had joined them and heard their last few comments. “Probably not, but we’ve got to block it anyway in case they have accomplices who do figure it out.”
“I’d rather think we’re protecting it so all these elderly residents can have a safe way out, once the tractor-trailer is hauled off.” Roger aimed his face that direction.
“In a military action, it would be the same.” Mitch looked toward Pete, likely for concurrence. “You hold a bridge for your own needs, but you rig it with explosives in case the enemy arrives before you can use it.”
The mention of explosives seemingly perked Wade’s attention. “Yeah. We’re gonna need some guys down at the south end exit.”
“We can’t spare anybody from our main line of resistance.” Pete started shaking his head, but stopped and smiled grimly. “But that would be a good spot for some of the men from Post 38.”
“How you gonna get ‘em out here?” Wade mopped a bit of sweat from his forehead.
Pete didn’t answer, but he was clearly thinking.
The small group eventually made its way back inside.
Irene met her husband at the back door with a tablet and some notes. “The house phone lines are apparently out in the entire Community, along with the electricity on that other street,” she said, pointing toward Serenity, “and at the main complex. Most of the residents don’t even own cell phones. The others who do, including our guests, have checked theirs. None are working except the Suttons’.”
“Thanks, honey.” Pete appeared distracted. “Does anybody recall whether the Legion Hall has a land line?”
Chet had joined their conversation. “There’s a phone plugged in the wall, on that little table by the door.”
“Honey, borrow the Suttons’ phone and try to call Post 38. See if any men are still there after the committee meeting. Tell them to come up here quick, the back way — Whiskey Road at Winston Court — and bring any guns they can find.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Wednesday at 12:55 p.m.
Barricade
Ellie had known Pete for several years, but this was their first joint mission. So far that day, they had only conferred briefly among other dealings with scouts, guards, and reconnaissance teams. Yet both were remarkably on the same page, almost like an executive officer and her company commander.
After most of the guests
had collected in the available chairs among the dining and living spaces, Ellie got the group’s attention. “That back street is plumb blocked by a Bless George eighteen-wheeler that wrecked when the driver keeled over.” She nodded at Lyin’ Leo. “So we’re pretty much stuck here. But that don’t mean we gotta let a bunch of crooks steal everybody blind.” Ellie paused while that sank in. “We’re making a stand right here at that barry-cade and we’ll turn them hoodlums around. Anybody who don’t wanna be here ought to get up that hill to the main buildings. No shame in going. Just keep somebody on a phone trying to reach the 9-1-1 folks. Be sure and tell them this ain’t part of no Bless George drill.” Ellie looked around to see if everybody understood. “Okay, who’s staying here on the wall?”
It could have been what Colonel Travis said at the Alamo. Or possibly the speech Henry V made at Hafleur in real life, before Shakespeare re-wrote it as, Once more unto the breach. Simple, heart-felt, strong… stirring.
Chet cleared his throat loudly and stepped forward without speaking a word.
Pete took a step. Irene seemed perplexed at first but then looked as proud as if he’d been elected new governor of the Commonwealth. She stood beside her husband. Pete reached down and clasped her hand. “We’ll stand.” Ashley hurried over and hugged her grandparents.
Two of the other four Honor Guard members stepped forward: first Norm, who was also a resident, and then Herb. Stanley would have followed except he was currently at the forward observation post. Isaiah didn’t speak or move.
Among the guests, the first volunteer was Diane. She also spoke for Joe, who was currently Stanley’s runner. Kelly started to move, but she was distracted as Mitch came up behind her. She looked into his face and then turned back to Ellie. “We’ll help.”
Residents from the Community who stepped forward were Art, Bernie, Earl, and even acerbic Melvin. Deaf Leo hadn’t heard most of Ellie’s stirring invitation, but he got the gist of it. Somebody nudged him and he filed in with the rest. Art and Bernie were both veterans. Earl, Melvin, and Leo had never served in the military, though Leo had worked as a civilian in America’s massive industrial armament and mobilization during the early 1940s.
Roger stood. “This neighborhood is Aunt Lucille’s home now. I’ll stay.”
Wade looked around. “Don’t leave me out. But I ain’t going to sit still on no barricade. I need something to do.”
Isaiah, Gerald, and Frank were the only men who did not volunteer to stay. All three kept their eyes aimed slightly downward.
As she had quite sincerely said, Ellie held no disdain for those unable or unwilling to remain at the wall. However, she also recognized the need to get them out of harm’s way and also keep civilians out of their way. She quickly organized a small convoy of vehicles, west of the barricade, to drive elderly residents up to the main Community complex. Then to remain standing-by to get them out the protected back way if the invaders were not contained and if a huge wrecker could haul the eighteen-wheeler from across South Pleasant Drive.
Kelly had been helping with the arrangements. “If I was watching a movie where an entire community of senior citizens got isolated during a massive civil defense drill because of construction, utility trenches, a crushed culvert, a truck wreck, and a gang of armed thieves — and nobody’s phones worked — I think I’d just walk out. That’s not anywhere near believable. Stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life.” Kelly thought for a moment. “But even if all those things could happen, and all at the same time, we’d be a bunch of idiots to turn those vehicles into a barricade across a neighborhood street and make this into some kind of last stand.”
Ellie gave her a funny look but didn’t say anything at first. Then in a low voice, she said: “Some of these fellers got called to arms in the war and found themselves cut off from everybody. And everything that could go wrong happened all at once. They had to just dig in and fight as best they could. That was real life.” Ellie paused. “And that’s about what’s happening out here today.”
The evacuation had begun. Isaiah, Gerald, and Frank were among the ones who departed for the main building. They would also be useful helping steady some of the women who had difficulty getting into the vehicles.
Frank returned a few minutes later, went out to Pete’s garage and picked up the briefly forgotten, tethered Polly, who’d been gnawing on Irene’s plastic recycling bins. Plastic is not recommended for Shih Tzu digestive tracts.
At the front door, Ellie brought in the latest pair of frightened refugees and sent them with another small group up to the main building in one of the remaining large vehicles not on the barricade line.
Kelly had assisted. “Why didn’t Leo go to the main complex to be with his wife?”
Ellie’s smile looked sad. “I asked him that. He said if he told Gladys he’d left this here barry-cade ta stay with her, she never would’ve believed him.”
****
Irene was still counting heads as Roger sidled up and pointed discreetly to his Aunt. “Wade wants me with him, somewhere, for something. Would you look after Aunt Lucille for me? Get her up to the main complex if you can. She can’t be out there on the barricade and it’d be… she ought not to be here in the house if there’s shooting and whatever else.”
Irene touched his forearm. “Of course I will. She’s a guest in my home. I’ll take care of her, Roger. You don’t need to worry.”
He didn’t. Not about that.
Ashley had continued to fiddle with her new phone gadget, trying from different rooms — even the deck and porch — to get a signal. Nope. Seeing all the movement and everyone obviously worried, Ashley hurried to her grandmother’s side.
Irene was aware of Ashley’s nearness and hugged her briefly, but she also had other matters to focus on. She saw Florence huddled with Helen; neither had been assigned to a vehicle. Alice, alone, was nearby and looking on.
Irene motioned for Florence to follow her into a corner of the kitchen and then spoke softly. “Florence, we’re going to need somebody to take the rest of these folks up the hill on foot and get them settled.” She paused. “Somebody who can keep their head. You’d be a good one for that.”
Florence’s eyes had gotten large with apprehension. Tears formed and she hugged her friend and hostess. “Thanks.”
“Be sure Lucille is with the first batch you take.” Irene pointed.
Florence nodded. “I know Lucille.”
“And take my Ashley with you. I’m putting her in your care, Florence.” Irene nudged her granddaughter forward slightly.
Florence nodded but didn’t speak.
“I don’t want to go, Grandma. Let me stay here with you and Grandpa.” Ashley’s voice was shaky and her eyes were moist.
“Honey, when the power comes back on in that nursing home, they’re going to need some help with their computers. They’ll need you more up there.” Irene whispered something else to Ashley and they hugged.
“But Grandma, I’ve got an idea how I can use my phone.”
“Well, you keep working with that, honey. Maybe you’ll get more bars — or whatever you call them — when you’re higher up that hill.” Technology. When Irene shook her head, her short white coiffure didn’t even shift. “Anyway, if you work it out, try to get word to someone.”
“Who should I call, Grandma?”
“Oh, the state police, I think.” Irene pursed her lips for a moment. “Yes, they’ll know what to do.”
Ashley nodded and went to the back door. She wept softly.
Irene turned again to Florence. “You ought to take Helen with you… might need some help.” Irene switched to a whisper. “Oh, Alice looks a little pixilated. Everything’s pretty new to her. Take Alice with you. Okay?”
Florence nodded, wiped her sniffles, and straightened up. She returned to her former spot in the living room. “Helen, we got an assignment and I need your help.” Florence clutched Lucille’s elbow and turned. “Lucille, have you met Alice?”
A
lice looked up gratefully from the sofa. Her smile was constrained by her nerves.
The four ladies huddled for a moment and then began circulating in the large living area. They spoke quietly to each remaining refugee and several started lining up behind Ashley at the back door.
Irene watched as they made their way out the back and took the two steps carefully. Alice and Helen stood on either side and helped people down. Lucille held open the door. Florence stood next to Ashley at the head of the line and looked up the hill in the direction of the main buildings. Then she turned and waved at Irene inside.
Ellie came up and put her hand in the small of Irene’s back. “You done good, Irene. Real good.”
Once the departing group could no longer see her, Irene sobbed.
****
Moments later, a white-haired woman in a short fur coat made her way carefully across some newly-placed planks over the utility trench along Pleasant Drive. It was much too warm for the fur but her arms were full with other treasures. Evidently she had stumbled at least once somewhere across the enormous, uneven field. Her knee and elbow were bloodied and she was completely out of breath.
“They just came busting in,” she panted as she explained. “I ran out the back door and they acted like they didn’t even care.” More heavy breaths. “They had my grandma’s silver.” She pointed vaguely toward Pleasant. The new arrival never made it inside the Henley household, but quickly caught up to the group walking slowly up the hill in the grass. She was greatly relieved to be among others.
By that point about two dozen elderly from the community, not counting their luncheon guests, had been in the Henley household and were already inside or nearing the complex’s main buildings.
When all the dust settled, eighteen apprehensive individuals remained to mount their defense. There was the added promise of some Legionnaires — nobody knew how many — presumably soon. Also their collective hope that law enforcement could single out this legitimate emergency from all the manufactured calls and varied assignments related to the massive drill.
