by Bible, Jake
At this point, I am glad I haven’t had breakfast. I can feel the bile build up in my stomach and I want nothing more than to turn my head and puke. Mondello sees this and that smile takes over his face. He pats me on the leg and stands up.
“I’ll let you think it over,” he says as he walks to the door. “Someone will bring you food soon and you’re welcome to take a shower. I’ll have Foster’s people find you some fresh clothes. You have today to run it over in your head. I expect an answer by this evening.”
“You have my family?” I ask.
“No, not yet,” he says, “but it won’t be hard to get to them. Your people on that farm are probably pretty proud of themselves. Maybe too proud. They’ll be exhausted, scared, confused, and many will be over confident.” He stops, his hand on the door handle. “The perfect recipe for extraction. Don’t forget, Mr. Stanford, while Foster is the expert, I was Secretary of Homeland Security. I know how to acquire assets and how to use them. It was my job after all.”
Then he’s gone, leaving me to my physical pain and my emotional turmoil.
I get up, slowly, since I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, and go to the window. It’s locked and secured and three stories up. I’m not getting out that way. I have some skills, but scaling the rock and brick face of a hotel is not one of those skills.
I look out at the Grove Park grounds and watch as dozens of people hustle about. Foster’s private contractors, construction crews gearing up, obvious administrative types working for Mondello, all the cogs in the machine.
And fuck, it sounds like quite the machine.
A knock at the door makes me turn, which I regret as I twist something in my side. I’m a fucking mess, as usual.
“Food and clothing,” Foster says.
“Didn’t expect you to deliver it personally,” I reply.
“Go take a shower and then let’s talk,” Foster says.
“About?”
She shrugs and motions towards the bathroom.
I’m not one to argue against a free shower. So I take the clothes and step in. I try to close the door, but she blocks it with her foot.
“I’d feel better with this open,” she says. “I won’t look, I promise. Just don’t want you using that brain of yours without supervision.”
“Well that brain of mine, as you all keep calling it, isn’t running at full steam right now,” I reply. “I think you’re safe.”
“I’m never safe,” she says, then walks away, out of sight.
I turn the water on and wait for it to get hot. And wait. And wait. Fuck.
“No hot water?” I call out.
“You have to be up earlier than this,” she says from the room. “Only two boilers working at a time. It helps motivate the crews in the morning. First ones up get hot water and bigger portions. You should see the lines.”
“Great,” I mutter.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I reply.
Cold shower it is. I suffer through, still glad to get the dirt and blood washed off me. There was a lot of blood. I get dressed in the black cargo pants and black t-shirt Foster gave me and walk back into the room. She hands me a small bottle and I sniff it.
“Mouthwash?” I ask.
“All out of toothpaste. Thought you’d like this,” she replies. “Socks and boots are over there. Get them on. Eat fast. We’re going for a walk.”
I comply. What the fuck else am I going to do?
Boots on, food in my belly, and we are walking. We get downstairs and outside and I can’t help but take a deep breath of the late fall air. Sure, it’s tinged with the smell of death and ash, but still it’s nice.
“The President told you that we’re going to use your family as leverage, right?” she asks finally as we make our way down to the golf course.
“He did,” I reply, “do you have them?”
“Maybe,” she shrugs.
“Then I don’t know what we have to talk about,” I say.
“There’s a girl, a young woman, that you’ve taken in,” Foster says. “Do you know who she is?”
“Nope, don’t know who you are talking about,” I say.
“Cut the crap, Stanford,” Foster laughs. “I know who she is. I know she means something to you. Maybe not as much as your family does, but she’s part of your life now. So answer my question: do you know who she is?”
“She was a canny, a cannibal,” I say. “She saved my ass. Despite the fact that my good friend killed her father.”
Foster stops and I stop with her. She turns and looks at me and I’m pretty fucking confused by the look on her face.
“That wasn’t her father,” Foster says. “Just a man that took her when Z-Day hit.”
“Hold on…what?” I ask. “What are you telling me? Why? What the fuck is going on?”
“I want that girl,” Foster states flatly.
“I’d hardly call Elsbeth a girl,” I say.
“Elsbeth…,” she says, “that’s what she calls herself?”
“That’s the name her father said when they had me tied up in a basement and were ready to carve me up for dinner,” I say.
“He wasn’t her father,” Foster growls, “got that?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” I say. “So I’m guessing you know her real name and where she’s from and who her real father is and all that crap?”
“I know everything about her,” Foster says. “I just need to get her.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I ask. “Go get her. I dare you.”
This makes Foster smile. “She trusts you. You can get her to me without anyone dying, especially her. I send in my people and there will be blood.”
“You aren’t wrong there,” I say, “and if I get her to go with you, then are you going to harm her?”
“Not a single hair on her head.”
“And you’ll make sure my family isn’t harmed?”
“That’s the deal.”
“Say it,” I insist.
“Stanford, I promise your family won’t be harmed and none of you will end up on Mondello’s slave crews. I can’t say the same for the rest of your Whispering Pines neighbors or for those on that farm. But the Stanfords will be free to go.”
“Go where?”
She shrugs. “That’s not my concern. You figure that part out. Uncertain freedom is better than certain slavery.”
“Ha, not always,” I laugh. “Have you seen the world lately?”
“More than I care to. So do we have a deal?”
I look over at the four guards that have accompanied us. “You aren’t afraid they’ll talk?”
“Not in the least,” she replies. “Governments come and go, as do clients, but I’m a constant. My people know that if they stick with me, they’ll have the best shot at a life in this world. Mondello is a bureaucrat; the Consortium is just a bunch of greedy fucks. They don’t understand what life is like on the ground. Maybe at one time, some of them did, but not any longer. Plus, we’re all that stands between the zeds and Mondello’s ass. The Secret Service was never reinstated. Easier just to hire us.”
“Why do you want Elsbeth?” I ask. “Tell me that, at least.”
“No,” she states flatly, “do we have a deal?”
“No,” I state flatly in the exact same way. “I’m not selling that young woman out. Not unless you give me something. Some reason I should do that.”
“You mean besides the fact that I can save your family?”
I don’t answer.
“Fine. Why do you think I’m in Asheville?”
“To do your job helping Mondello run his slave labor and secure the Parkway.”
“Good. That’s what he thinks too,” Foster says. “I’m actually here for a different reason. I took this contract because I knew it would be based in Asheville and not one of the other sites. I’m actually very familiar with this area.”
“Other sites?” I ask. “What other sites?”
She s
hakes her head. “Not your concern now. What is your concern, is your family. And my concern is the young woman you call Elsbeth. We can help each other with those concerns.”
“I don’t know…” I really don’t.
Foster holds out her hand and one of the guards gives her a radio. “This is Foster. Do you have the Stanfords?”
“We do,” a voice crackles.
Foster hands the radio back to the guard.
“Your move, Stanford,” she says.
“Jesus fuck,” I whisper, “what is wrong with you people?”
“Do we have a deal? Yes or no?”
“Yes, of course we do,” I say now that I have no choice, “but there’s one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I have no idea where Elsbeth is,” I say.
“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Foster replies, “I know exactly where she is.”
Chapter Six
The group stands before Stuart, their expectant faces watching him closely. Julio in turn studies them, trying to figure out the mood. It’s obviously one of apprehension with a healthy dose of fear. But is it fear that will lead to panic or fear that can be turned to resolve?
“Last night was quite a night,” Stuart says. “I know you heard the gunfire and I know you heard a crowd cheering, because I heard that too. I don’t know the source of either of those things, but I do plan on finding out.”
Stuart watches the people in the group nod their heads in agreement and understanding.
“As much as I’d rather stay here and keep working on the stairs and deck, I believe I need to head into town and have a look,” Stuart says. “I’m taking a small team with me. Just two guys. Harlan and Shep.”
“Whoa! What?” Julio exclaims. “That’s not what-”
“I know, but we’ll move faster,” Stuart says. “If we run into any trouble, then we’ll double back and get help.”
“What if you’re hurt or captured?” someone asks. “Shouldn’t we send more with you?”
“Exactly,” Julio says, “at least take me, Stuart. Come on!”
“I need you here supervising,” Stuart says to Julio.
“He’s not even part of Whispering Pines,” Carl Leitch, Whispering Pines’ electrical grid expert says from the group. “No offense, Julio.”
“None taken, man,” Julio says. “He’s right, Stuart. I’m good for security and clearing out Zs, but I ain’t no supervisor. What the fuck do I know about building stairs and a deck?”
“You’ll do fine,” Stuart says. “Carl knows what needs to be done. I’ll leave him in charge of the actual building. You just keep things cool here.”
“What if you don’t come back?” someone asks. “What then?”
“We go back to the Farm?” someone else asks.
“We lost communications with the Farm late last night,” Landon Chase says, the head of Whispering Pines’s tech. “Normal chatter, then it went dead. Someone jammed the signal.”
“You don’t know that,” Carl says.
“I sure as hell do,” Landon replies. “If the system had gone down, there would have been signs. There weren’t. One second it’s up, the next nothing.”
“Maybe the cell tower they’re bouncing off was damaged? Or the battery bank fried? Both possible,” Carl counters, “did you think of that, genius?”
“I did, dumbass,” Landon says. “And that isn’t what happened. I can still catch wave form, but no real signal. The cell tower is working, just not receiving the Farm’s communications.”
“Don’t you ever call me dumbass, dumbass!” Carl snaps. He stomps over to Landon. Julio instantly gets between them.
“That’s why I need you here,” Stuart says to Julio.
“Right,” Julio nods, staring the two bickering men down. “We cool, gentlemen?”
“That old shit will never be cool,” Landon snorts.
“Says the twenty-something with teenage acne,” Carl laughs.
“Fuck you, faggot,” Landon mutters.
“What did you say?” Carl’s partner, Brian, snaps. “You fucking apologize now, geek!”
“HEY!” Stuart shouts. “Everyone shut the hell up! Landon, you ever say that again and I’ll leave you out there for the Zs, got it?”
“Whatever,” Landon says.
“Two seconds to agree with me, son,” Stuart says.
“Okay, I’ll never say it again,” Landon says.
“Apologize,” Stuart orders.
“I’m sorry I called you a faggot,” Landon says to Carl then looks at Stuart. “That good enough? What about what he said to me?”
“You deserve that,” Julio smiles. “You do have teenage acne, geek.”
“Jesus,” Stuart mutters.
“Don’t you say the Lord’s name in vane!” a crusty old voice snaps from behind the group. Preacher Carrey, the head and only member of the Church of Jesus of the Light, steps into view, making Stuart sigh.
“This is Whispering Pines business, preacher,” Stuart says. “How about you go back up to your church and let us handle this how we handle it.”
Preacher Carrey points a gnarled finger at everyone. “The Lord has cursed you because of your wicked ways! Homosexuals! Immigrants! Godless believers in technology and false idols! You deserve everything you get!”
The only reason Stuart doesn’t knock the guy out, is that his church, a building grandfathered in when Whispering Pines was built, has the only water source in Whispering Pines- the well on its grounds. Sure, Stuart could take it by force, but the man is a preacher and the building is a church. He’d be cheered by some, but condemned by most.
“Preacher, you’ve said your part,” Stuart says, rubbing his temples. “Can you let us get on with business?”
“Devil’s business,” Carrey sneers as he walks away towards his church. The building survived the destruction that leveled Whispering Pines, a fact he never tires of pointing out. He continues to mutter about the devil and the homosexuals and immigrants as he shuffles off.
“What the fuck did he mean by immigrants?” Julio asks. “I was fucking born here, man.”
“Let’s forget Carrey for now, okay? We have other things to deal with,” Stuart says. “You all have your day’s assignments. Can I count on all of you to do your part and try to stay on schedule without bickering and killing each other?”
“Or making me kill you,” Julio ads.
“Goes without saying,” Stuart says, looking at the group. Slowly, one by one, they all nod. “Good. Harlan? Shep? Ready in five. Pack light so we can move quickly.”
Stuart looks about at the neighborhood that used to have cookie cutter houses built on it, but is now ruins.
“We’ll get everything back, folks, we will,” he says, “we just have to work for it.”
***
“You are obviously giving preference to your people,” Brenda Kelly snarls at Big Daddy. “I have members of Whispering Pines that are wounded and have been waiting for attention for hours! I know you are holding back treatment to them so you can keep your workforce strong! This is not how we agreed to run things, Mr. Fitzpatrick! You are in violation of our agreement!”
Brenda Kelly, Chairperson of the Whispering Pines HOA Board, stands in front of the rocking chair Big Daddy is seated in. Her hands are firmly planted on her hips and righteous indignation and rage radiate from her short, fat, homely body. Despite the night’s battle, and other than some dirt scuffs on her pants, Brenda looks like the fighting passed her by.
Big Daddy wonders where she was during the thick of it all. He doesn’t wonder too hard, knowing the coward she is, but he logs the thought away to be brought up another day.
“I would appreciate it if you moved to the side,” Big Daddy says, “so I can supervise the clean up.”
“Supervise?” Brenda snorts. “You have a bullet in your leg and are sitting on your front porch! You are hardly supervising anything, Mr. Fitzpatrick! That is why I should be in charge right now and
make sure that services are equally distributed between your people and the members of Whispering Pines!”
“Members that are guests on my land,” Big Daddy says, sick of having to remind the abominable woman. “Guests at my invitation. An invitation I can rescind at any time, Ms. Kelly.”
Brenda puts her hands to her heart like she’s been stabbed. “How dare you? How dare you! You would kick innocent women and children out into the Z ridden wilds! What kind of monster are you?”
“Oh, shut the hell up, Brenda,” Dr. McCormick says as she shoves her out of the way so she can get to Big Daddy’s leg. “No one is getting any special treatment, you fat cow. Sergeant Stillwater and I have been taking care of everyone equally, depending on the severity of their wounds. I would have liked to look to Mr. Fitzpatrick’s wound hours ago, but he insisted I tend to everyone else first.”
“Well, you should be tending to Whispering Pines people first, is what you should do!” Brenda snarls. “If you know where your loyalties are!”
“Someone get this bitch away from me,” Dr. McCormick says.
“Doctor, while I appreciate the work you do, I hate to have to ask you to watch your language time and time again,” Big Daddy says. “I don’t ask much, but that is one thing I insist on.”
“Why don’t I take you over here and you can go see to the Whispering Pines people?” Sergeant Alex “Reaper” Stillwater says, placing a hand on Dr. McCormick’s shoulder.
“That’s the first smart thing I’ve heard around here all day,” Brenda snaps. “Why didn’t you offer earlier? Would have saved us all a lot of trouble.”
Dr. McCormick is about to respond when Big Daddy takes her hand. “Laura, go ahead. You aren’t breaking any doctor’s oath by keeping the peace.”
“That’s right,” Brenda says. “You swore an oath as a doctor to uphold the covenants of the Whispering Pines’s HOA-”
“I did no such thing!” Dr. McCormick shouts.
“Has anyone seen Charlie?” Jennifer Patel asks, running up onto the porch, looking frazzled and desperate. Which is pretty much how everyone looks. “I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Young miss, adults are speaking here,” Brenda growls, turning on the teenager. “You just march yourself down those steps and away from here right now. I’m sure you are needed elsewhere.”
