by Mike Kraus
Banks shook her head and fixed him with a hard look. “I can’t do that, Mr. McKnight.”
“Then we’re done here.” He rose and turned, ready to call Sam and Jerry in so they could leave.
“Wait!” Banks held up her hand as if she could physically stop him. “It’s much, much worse than what the president alluded to. The temperature changes will be more than a few degrees. Stop, please. You need to listen.”
Tom froze with his eyes closed, then he sat, nodding slowly. “I thought as much. How cold do they expect it to get?”
“Very cold.”
“The entire Northern Hemisphere?”
“Will become an ice box.”
Tom shook his head as the implications circled through his mind. There would be massive death tolls, if not directly from the cold, then from starvation, mass extinctions of thousands of species, migrations of sea and animal life, and a complete upheaval the likes of which hadn’t happened in thousands of years.
“If that’s true, it means there’s even less I can do to help fix it. And it’s all the more reason for me to get home to my family.”
“I understand how you feel,” Banks said. “I haven’t seen my family in weeks.”
“But you probably sent them south, right? You sent them someplace warm.”
The lieutenant colonel shifted sideways in her seat, angling toward Tom as if she could force him to agree. “A lot of people are doing that, and you should, too. We’ll let you warn them.”
“Gee, thanks.” Tom’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Let me warn them how? And when? As they’re freezing to death?”
Urgency, and a hint of anger locked Bank’s jaw tight. “Look, Mr. McKnight. The country needs you. The whole world needs you. I wouldn’t have brought you in if I didn’t think you could help.”
Tom tapped his palm on the table, nervousness tensing his shoulders. “What, exactly, do you expect me to do? At this point, you’ve got people to calculate death tolls, flood levels, and the temperature shifts. What’s my job?”
“Your job will be to fix the anomaly.”
Tom blinked at her, not certain he heard what she said. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.”
“Either you guys are flat out naïve, or you’re way too hopeful. You can’t fix the anomaly. It would be like trying to snuff out the sun with a garden hose.” Tom poked the table with his index finger to emphasize each point. “It’s going to continue spewing freshwater until the pressure equalizes. That could be in ten months or ten years.”
“We know.”
“Then we’re back to my original point.” Tom stood and turned in a huff. “Sam, Jerry! Let’s go!”
The back door flew open, and the pair stepped in with curious expressions.
“Everything okay, Dad?” Sam asked.
“No. Let’s go.” Tom strode to the side door, grabbed the handle, and shoved it open. He stepped out and ran into a six foot four MP who glared down at him, a shorter MP standing off to the side with a level, unmoving gaze.
Tom balked at them and backed into the room, glancing over to see Landry moving along the other side of the table.
“Mr. McKnight, we need you to stay,” the sergeant said.
Tom shifted his attention back to Banks. “What’s the meaning of this, Colonel?”
“I have an official order to bring you in. Just issued by Central Command.”
“You’re going to force me to help you?”
“I didn’t want to have to. But essentially, yes.”
Tom scoffed bitingly. “You have zero jurisdiction over me. I’m a citizen of the United States, not a member of the military or a state or federal employee. You can’t order me around.”
“We can, and we will.” Banks’s friendliness had vanished, replaced by her usual hard edge. “We’ll keep you, your daughter, and Jerry until you agree to assist.”
Tom put his hands on the table and leaned toward the camera, teeth grinding. “If you know we can’t fix the anomaly, then what do you need me for?”
“We need your help to try to fix things. Or, barring that, to prepare for the end.” Banks growled back.
“The end of what?” Spittle flew from Tom’s mouth as he shouted at Banks. “The world?”
“The end of our epoch, Mr. McKnight.” For a brief, split second, all of the fear and uncertainty and doubt that Banks was holding back shone through her expression. “And the beginning of a new one.” They were both quiet, staring at each other over the video link for a long moment until Banks glanced over off-screen and nodded, then addressed Tom again.
“I’ll give you a night to think about it.” She looked at Landry. “Put them in an isolated tent. Bring them back here in the morning.”
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant said, gesturing for the trio to head outside.
Chapter 21
Barbara, Wyndale, Virginia
“This is where they got in,” Barbara said, pointing at a spot on the west side behind the fuel shed where the men had broken in. The Everetts had since gone home, and Barbara and the kids were looking around the property, partially as a way to burn off nervous energy and partially to try to identify gaps in their defenses so they could shore them up. A section of the field fence had been smashed down where the men had climbed it and pressed it down beneath their boots, causing the old original wooden rails it was haphazardly attached to to fail, the top two having snapped and collapsed onto the bottom one.
“The fence between the rails is folded over,” Barbara continued, “but I think we can straighten it out and reuse it.”
“What do we do, Mom?” Jack asked.
“Let’s jump back in the Gator.” She walked over to the vehicle and got behind the wheel as the kids climbed in. Barbara started it up and pulled around to the newer storage barn in the backyard, talking as she went. “Your father pre-cut a stack of rails for just such an event,” she called. “We were supposed to use them as replacements until we found time to install a new fence with t-posts and everything.”
“That’s Dad,” Linda said, “always thinking ahead.”
Barbara glanced at her daughter where she sat, seemingly happy, in the passenger seat. Yesterday’s events had nearly been washed away by Darren and Marie’s energy, their massive cleanup effort, and the delicious dinner, plus the news that Tom and Sam were alive had given Barbara and the kids newfound strength that they didn’t know even existed. But, despite their high spirits, she couldn’t help but notice her daughter’s haunted eyes, and for the first time in her life, she couldn’t think of a way to address it.
Linda has shot a man. It hadn’t been a killing blow, but a shooting it was all the same, and her innocence was draining away faster with every tough choice she made and every challenge she faced. Barbara couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind, she could only be patient and wait for the right time to discuss it, if such a time existed.
Pulling up in front of the barn, Barbara climbed out of the Gator, unlocked the doors, and slid them open before hitting the switch to turn on the interior lights as she led the kids all the way to the back wall where the rails were stacked. Together, they hauled two out and laid them across the vehicle’s rear storage rack, then Barbara grabbed a hammer, pliers, and a cordless stapler off its charger and put them in the back next to the rails. Carbine slung on her shoulder, she returned to the driver’s seat.
“You guys get in and hold the rails in place.”
The kids did as they were told, and she drove them back to the broken fence line with Jack giggling the entire way as he tried to hold down the bouncing rails, continually getting knocked around by them. After parking, Barbara got out and looked out across the open field, eyes roaming over the neighbors’ property, skirting the tall grasses and clusters of trees in the distance. Leaving her carbine close at hand on the front seat, she used the pliers and hammer to dig the old staples out of the broken rails to release the field fencing, then she pulled the metal fencing asid
e, picked out pieces of broken wood, and handed them to Jack and Linda to pile out of the way. The kids then held the replacement rails in place as she nailed them to the posts, then she lifted the field fence and stapled it to the new rails.
“Why do we use the field fence?” Jack asked. “Aren’t the rails enough?”
“It’s to dissuade coyotes from getting onto the property and getting to the chickens,” she responded. “But more to the point, field fence is good for keeping most kinds of animals in. A proper setup would see it stretched and attached to t-posts, but we took some shortcuts when we were getting the animals setup originally and in some places we just nailed it to the existing posts and rails.” She sighed. “It’s definitely not the best fencing job in the world, but it’ll get the job done for now.”
“Maybe we should put some barbed wire around the top,” Linda stood next to her, mirroring her stance. “To keep people out.”
Barbara shrugged. “That’s not a bad idea, but a single strand of barbed wire isn’t much a deterrent. Still, it might be better than nothing. I’ve seen some at the hardware store downtown, but I’m not sure it’s going to be open today.” She glanced at the sky, murmuring, “Or tomorrow, or any other day.”
“Maybe the Everetts have some?”
“I’ll ask when I call over there today,” she concluded, catching her daughter’s worried look. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing,” Linda sighed.
Barbara glanced at Jack and watched as he climbed on the fence, goofing around. “Be careful, son.” She guided her daughter down the fence line and faced her, speaking more softly. “I’ll ask it again. What’s wrong, baby?”
Linda’s troubled eyes turned up to her mother. “I just don’t want any more people to come here. Except for the Everetts, of course.”
“Well, I don’t either, honey. Are you afraid what happened the other day will happen again?”
Linda sighed, a tear racing down her face. “We probably can’t stop them. We can’t stop anyone.”
“Your barbed wire idea is a good place to start,” Barbara insisted, trying to infuse confidence in the girl. “And I’ve got some other thoughts about fortifying the first floor. And we did stop them, in spite of everything that happened. Does that make you feel any better?”
Linda nodded, but she still didn’t seem at ease.
“Help me understand, honey.” Barbara placed her hand gently on her upper arm and rubbed it, eyes searching her face.
Linda’s gaze dropped to her feet, and she shifted to her other leg and pursed her lips in an undecided expression. “I just don’t understand why they tried to hurt us.” Her words gained steam, turning angry and indignant. “They didn’t even ask first, you know? If they’d done that, we could have given them something. But they didn’t, and we had to fight with them. They made us kill them.”
Barbara nodded. “I know. It all seems crazy, and it’s so hard to imagine people panicking so much and doing horrible things to each other, but they are. You saw how folks were acting in town, right?”
“Yeah. All weird, trying to steal and hurt each other.”
Barbara was nodding. “Those men? They saw us as easy targets. A quick way to get the things they didn’t work for. They figured it was just a weak woman, a dog, and a couple of helpless kids.” She smiled, giving Linda a light punch in the shoulder. “And they definitely didn’t count on you being so darn tough.”
Linda flashed a grin at the compliment, then her expression sobered again. “I just wish it could have turned out better.”
“Like Mr. Everett said, they didn’t really leave us any choice.” Barbara’s conviction rose at her own words. “I don’t want you to think that violence is the first and only option in every situation, but understand something - I wasn’t going to let those men hurt you or ruin our chances to survive. I was determined to fight or die to keep us alive.”
“How did you know what to do?”
Barbara thought about it a second, then shrugged. “I guess it was just instinct. How did you know when to fire at the man holding your brother?”
“I’m not sure,” Linda thought hard. “I saw Jack in trouble, and I wanted to help him.”
“But you waited until the right moment to fire so you wouldn’t hit your brother,” Barbara added. “You used your head.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
She seized on the moment. “You didn’t want to shoot at that man, but you trusted your instincts, and you only fired when the time was right. You helped save Jack.”
“I guess I did.” Linda’s chin lifted with a smile.
She leaned closer and flicked her eyes toward her son as he amused himself with throwing pieces of the old rail as far into the trees as possible. “Just don’t rub it in too much, okay?”
“I won’t,” Linda chuckled.
Barbara took a deep breath let it out with a sobering expression, resting her palm against her daughter’s cheek. “Look, I never want you to have to shoot anyone, or even hurt them. I shot all four of those men, and part of me feels terrible about it.”
“You do?”
“Of course. Taking a life is serious business, even if they’re bad people. They’re still human beings. They probably had families and people who loved them. I would have avoided it if I could. But they came on our property and tried to hurt us and steal from us. They held a gun to Jack’s head, tried to shoot me, nearly shot you in their panic and almost killed Smooch. I don’t think we should feel too bad about what happened.”
“I’ll try not to feel too bad, but it’s still a little confusing.”
“If you ever have a question or you’re not feeling right, come talk to me. Remember, we went through it together. And I’m here for you, always.”
“I will.” Linda wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. “You can talk to me too.”
Barbara draped her arms over her shoulders, drawing her close. “We’re a pretty good team, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Your father is going to be so proud when he hears how well you defended us.”
“I hope he doesn’t get mad that I totally missed the guy.”
A laugh burst from Barbara’s lips. “Your father won’t be mad. Plus, between you and me, you definitely hit him.” Barbara winked at her daughter, then looked at the fence one last time. “Let’s head back in, okay?”
“Sure.”
They loaded the old rails into the back of the Gator and drove them out to the fire pit. After tossing them in with the couch and stained carpet, with plans to burn them later, they returned to the house, Barbara parking the vehicle near the patio before taking the kids inside.
She went to the laundry room and opened the door to find Smooch sitting up, waiting for them, tail wagging weakly, whipping harder when Jack pushed his way in. He knelt next to Smooch and inspected the bandages like Linda had shown him, lifting one and checking the area where Barbara had put five stitches to seal the wound.
Standing over them, she nodded down. “Is the area swollen, like a bump?”
“Nope.”
“Do you see any signs of pus leaking out? Or is there any on the bandage?”
Jack peeled the gauze back farther. “I don’t think so. It’s just a little bloody.”
“Does it smell funny at all?”
The boy leaned in without hesitation and gave a sniff. “Nope. Smells okay.”
Barbara nodded satisfactorily. “That’s what we want to see. A little blood is fine, but an infection will leave yellow or greenish pus. And if it gets infected, we need to take a different approach.”
Jack looked up, eyebrows pinched. “What kind of different approach?”
“Well, it might involve lancing the wound to get the puss out,” she said with a frown. “That’s why you need to make sure she eats her antibiotics with her food.”
“I will,” Jack nodded vigorously.
“Come here,” she said. “I’ll show you what I do.”
They left the door open, and Smooch limped out with Jack right behind her. Barbara got the dog bowl and put it on the breakfast nook, then she crushed up amoxicillin and clavulanate capsules and mixed them with a can of wet food. Placing it down, she watched as the German Shepherd ate with her tail wagging contentedly.
“Is she going to be okay?” Jack asked.
“Her appetite is good, there’re no signs of infection, and we didn’t see any blood in her urine.” Barbara rubbed her chin. “I’m no vet, but I’d say she’s doing pretty well.”
“Can we take her to a vet anyway?”
“Our regular vet is in town, honey, and I’m not sure I want to risk the trip again. Remember, it got pretty crazy last time. I think Smooch will be fine. If she starts to get weaker or something, we’ll drive in and see if anyone is still operating, okay?”
“Okay.”
“What do you say we have a quick lunch and start working on our defenses?”
Both kids agreed, and she and Linda made sandwiches and brought them to the table with a glass of milk for Jack. Barbara brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and soon they were all at the table enjoying a quiet meal as the violent incidents of the previous two days drifted to the backs of their minds. Linda glanced at her mother as she prepared to take a bite of her bologna and cheese sandwich.
“What are you thinking as far as defenses?”
“We have a ton of leftover scrap wood from when we moved in. I say we take measurements of all the windows on the first floor and cut pieces to fit. Then we’ll use long screws to fix the slabs on the inside and outside of every possible entry point, except for the doors.”
“That sounds like a good start,” Linda agreed.
After cleaning up from lunch, they found a tape measure and went around the house taking measurements, writing the figures on a notepad before driving the Gator to the back barn in search of scrap wood. There they found several pieces on the first level and in the loft and got them into the vehicle’s cargo tray. Next they retrieved bricks from a stack inside the barn and used them to hold the plywood scraps down while they drove, then Barbara brought out Tom’s circular saw from the barn along with two small sawhorses.
