by Kyle Pratt
Blood soaked the ground in a growing pool around Caden’s father.
Chapter Thirty
Westmore Farm, Rural Lewis County, Tuesday, October 6th
Maria sat on the front porch, oblivious to the movement of law enforcement and others around her. She had killed Trevor, the father of the man she loved. Sobs from Sarah in the living room thundered in Maria’s ears. She wiped tears from her eyes and doubted she could ever face Trevor’s wife again. What penance could she perform? What words could she say, that would heal such a rift? If he survived the flu, how could she face Caden? She had killed his father.
An EMT pushed a gurney along the rocky driveway. A bloodstained sheet covered the body … Trevor’s body … that he loaded into the back of the truck.
Maria slumped forward as he drove away. A few minutes later she stood and stepped into the living room. Lisa and Sue huddled around Sarah with long, sad faces. Maria gently lifted Adam from the playpen, kissed him several times, and then set him back. Then she turned and wandered into the darkness.
She walked along the rocky driveway until she reached the asphalt of Hopps Road, then turned toward the highway. Minutes later she heard a car come up behind her and pull onto the gravel edge. She continued walking.
A car door shut. Footsteps crunched in the gravel behind her. “Why did you walk away? Where are you going?”
She hesitated at the sound of Sheriff Hoover’s voice. Perhaps he thought she had fled the scene of her crime. Perhaps she did. “I’m walking. I’m not sure where.”
Hoover came alongside her. “I think we’ve figured out what happened, but I want to ask you a few questions.”
Maria shrugged. “Whatever you need. Can I keep walking?”
“I suppose.” Using a flashlight he looked at his notes. “What type of firearm did you have tonight?”
“A shotgun.”
“Did anyone else have a firearm?”
“I don’t think so.”
He nodded. “The deputy that first arrived said you confessed to killing Trevor. Did you actually see him when you shot?”
“No.” Tears flowed again. “I know I should have seen what I shot at, but someone shot at me. I shouted my name and they shot again. I fired back. Then, I went in that direction and found his body.”
“Did you actually examine Trevor?”
She shook her head. “There was a little light coming from the house … I tried to find a pulse. All I could see was blood. Then I knew I … I—”
“Shot him?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“He died of a rifle shot to the chest.”
“Rifle? Huh?” She stared at him. “Not a shotgun blast?” She stopped and turned to him. “I didn’t have a rifle.”
He faced her. “That confused the deputy and so he called me. We searched, but your dog put us on the trail.”
“Nikki?”
Hoover nodded. “It’s still dark so I can’t be sure, but I think she followed a blood trail that led to another body further out in the field. I recognized the guy immediately. His name is … was … Bachman, a career petty criminal living in a trailer about two miles down the road. He still had a .270 rifle in one hand.”
Maria gasped.
“The way I see it, after you left the house to investigate the noise, Trevor did also. He may not have known you were outside until Bachman fired his first shot and you shouted your name.” Hoover took a deep breath. “Well, I think Trevor stalked, and shot Bachman, but only wounded him. Bachman returned fire and hit Trevor in the chest. That was the second shot you heard and that was the one that killed Trevor. You fired, but apparently missed both.”
She sobbed and fell to her knees.
Hoover knelt beside her.
Several minutes passed before she could speak. “Does Sarah know?”
“I told her what I suspected, but I had to confirm a few things with you before I could be certain.” He stood and held out a hand. “Let’s go back to the house.”
Maria took a deep breath, let it out, and then took his hand. One burden had been lifted, but Trevor had still been murdered, and Caden remained gravely ill.
* * *
Hansen Armory, Tuesday, October 6th
Reveille hadn’t yet sounded when Acting CO, Lieutenant David Brooks, walked into his office. Immediately the phone rang.
“This is the hospital morgue. I’ve been told you put a hold on the transfer of Dr. Scott’s body.”
“Yes.” Since he had no official reason, Brooks felt it best to say as little as possible.
“Ah, there’s a pandemic in progress. We don’t have room to hold bodies.”
Anger flared in Brooks. “I know about the Kern flu. I also know that mass burials will commence in a few days. Send out the other bodies, but hold Dr. Scott’s.” He hung up the phone.
When he felt calm, Brooks called and asked the medic about Caden.
“He’s slipping in and out of consciousness. His temperature is one hundred and one, but we’re working to bring that down. We’ll know more in the next 48 hours.”
“Keep me informed.” He had been in the office only minutes and the situation depressed him. As he rubbed his forehead, he wondered if Caden felt that way sometimes. Caden had been more than a commanding officer; he had been a friend and mentor. Now death lingered beside him.
Brooks read the two orders received during the night. The first established draft boards in each county, called up all guard units into the armed forces, and allowed the military to seize fuel, transport, and other resources necessary to fully mobilize for the war effort.
The next one ordered Major Westmore to establish two platoons of up to a total of 100 soldiers for a special mission. The order specified that all unit personnel were to be Kern flu survivors or those who had demonstrated immunity. Brooks would assemble the unit and pray Caden would recover and command it.
* * *
Hollister Hotel, Tuesday, October 6th
Zach awoke early and wondered what he should do. He didn’t expect Mr. Hollister to continue rehab work on the stores so soon after his wife’s death, or for DeLynn to help with food distribution. Vicki would work, but she didn’t know anything about the deliveries. So that left him with no clear direction. He decided to read near the apartment door and listen for movement in the hallway.
Vicki awoke and prepared breakfast for both of them.
With a mouth full of scrambled egg Zach asked, “Do you know what we’re doing today?”
Vicki shook her head. “No, and I don’t want to ask.”
“Neither do I.”
As he finished his breakfast, a few minutes later, he heard a noise in the hall. Zach hurried the last few mouthfuls and, with Vicki close behind, hurried to the elevator in time to see the numbers count back to one. He pressed the button for the lift to return.
“I’ll clean up and meet you down there.” Vicki headed back down the hall.
The whine of a circular saw filled the lobby. Zach stepped to the door of the general store. Mr. Hollister stood inside cutting plywood. Movement caused Zach to look left and through an unfinished wall he spotted DeLynn as she sat at a table near a window in the bakery. He went to her. “Mind if I sit down?”
She nodded.
Zach wasn’t sure if that meant yes, she minded, or yes, sit. He hesitated.
“Go ahead.” She pointed to the seat across from her.
When he sat, he tried not to stare at DeLynn’s puffy eyes. A plate with three slices of buttered toast sat before her. One slice had been nibbled. Zach seemed always to be hungry and the smell of bread only made it worse. He would have loved some of her bread, but he wondered if it might be her first food since the death of her mother.
She stared at the toast, but it pleased him that she had eaten some and spoke with him. “I’m sorry.”
“You tried to help. I appreciate that.”
Vicki entered and turned the radio on while she worked at the counter.
“No.” DeLynn shook her head. “Of course not.”
Zach sighed with relief.
“She left and traveled through a camp full of sick people. I’m glad you found her. She could have died and been buried in a mass grave. We’d never have known what happened to her.”
Vicki stood by the radio toasting and buttering bread. Then, she placed a fresh plate of it at the center of the table and sat next to Zach. “I just heard some weird news on the radio.”
“What?” Zach grabbed a slice.
“The announcer said the government is drafting guys for a war with China. When did we go to war with them?”
Panic filled DeLynn’s eyes. “Don’t leave me.”
Zach shook his head. “There’s no way.”
Chapter Thirty One
Hansen Armory, Monday, October 12th
Weird dreams of blood, death, and specters haunted Caden’s mind for what seemed an eternity. Pain lingered in a black void when the demons withdrew. The torments retreated gradually, leaving a restful nothingness.
Aware of an annoying beep, Caden forced his eyes open. Hardly moving his head, he gazed from side to side at a tiny room filled with hospital equipment. Sunshine poured in from an unseen window behind him. Just a few feet from his bed, a door opened. A woman wearing a breathing mask and bio-hazard suit entered. Their eyes met. She hurried to his side. Despite the mask and gown, he thought he recognized her. “Maria?”
“You’ve come back to me.” She leaned down and kissed him through the mask.
While he gazed into her eyes, sleep overcame him.
* * *
Lieutenant David Brooks spoke with General Harwich on the landline phone while the head of the new draft board sat across the desk from him, waiting impatiently. As Brooks tried, unsuccessfully, to end the conversation with the general, the cell phone in his pocket vibrated.
He decided that frustration lurked in the cosmic fabric of Monday mornings. “Yes, sir. I’ll get those numbers to you today.”
The general grunted. “How is Major Westmore doing?”
“I haven’t heard today. Last night he was still unconscious, but his fever had declined to almost normal.” The annoying vibration in his pocket continued. “However, he seems to be resting comfortably.”
“I need to talk to him,” the general said. “Let me know the minute he wakes up.”
“Yes, sir.” He grabbed his cell phone and it stopped vibrating. He pulled it from his pocket with an exasperated grunt, but noticed the call came from Maria. That early in the day her call would probably be a status update on Caden. Brooks held up one finger asking the gray-haired man from the draft board to wait as he returned her call. “Maria, this is David. What do you need?”
“Caden’s awake! Or at least he was. He’s gone back to sleep now.”
“That’s great news.” He sighed as worry for his friend flowed away. “Thanks for letting me know.” He wondered if he should call the general, but decided to wait. “Call me when he stays awake.”
He hung up and looked to the chairman of the draft board. “What have you got for me?”
The old veteran pulled two sheets from a briefcase and handed them to Brooks. “We thought we’d start by identifying the men eighteen to forty-five years old that were recently discharged, but still have reserve time. Once they’re called up, the service can use a stop-loss order to keep them in.”
“Probably a good idea.” Brooks ran his finger down the list. Almost at once he noticed, ‘Brennon, Zachery.’” He pointed to the name. “This one wasn’t in the service.”
“There are a few like that, young men with ROTC training either in high school or college. In Brennon’s case he worked here, virtually as a soldier, and fought in two battles. We thought it a good idea to get such people in quickly. We do have a two-front war to fight.”
Brooks nodded. The war with China had flared red hot even as the civil war with Durant in the east quieted because of the spreading sickness. Brooks signed the list as acting military commander and handed it back. “Okay, it’s official. Draft them.”
* * *
Hansen Armory, Tuesday, October 13th
Caden rested somewhere between sleep and awake as snoring gradually entered his consciousness. His eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the sunlit room. A vague memory emerged. He had awakened here once before. No beeping annoyed him this time, and less equipment cluttered the room. A single intravenous bag sent a slow drip into his arm. Maria, the source of the snoring, dozed, slumped over in a chair to his right. She wore no bio-hazard protection. Perhaps he had survived the Kern flu. He took a deep breath and as he let it out tension seemed to flow out with it. For several moments he stared at Maria, admiring the soft feminine lines of her face.
Her eyes opened just a hint.
He smiled. “So, am I going to be okay?”
“Oh!” Her eyes shot open. With quick flicks of her hands she brushed back her hair and wiped her eyes and mouth. “Ah … yes, your temperature has been normal for over a day. The doctor said you aren’t contagious. How do you feel?”
He sighed and tried to sit up. “Like I’ve been in a knockdown, drag-out fight.” With his shoulders barely on the pillow, he stopped and groaned. “I think I lost that bout.”
“You’ve been in a fight, but the virus lost.” Maria stood. “I’ll be right back.” She left, but returned a minute later with a medic.
The soldier gave Caden a quick check. “You’re one of the lucky ones, sir.” He removed the last IV. “You’ll need a few days to regain strength, but you should be fine.”
“I’d like to rest up at home.”
The young man nodded. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I’ll inform the XO that you’re awake.”
Maria turned toward the door. “I’ll get a wheelchair.”
“No.” Caden shook his head. “If I’m leaving here I’m walking out. Help me get dressed.”
When he finished, Caden stood, swayed and stumbled. He clutched Maria’s hand. “Maybe we can walk with my arm resting on your shoulder.”
A grin wrinkled the corners of her mouth, but sadness lingered on her face. She put an arm around him. “I certainly don’t mind but, before we get home, there’s something I need to tell—.”
The door opened and Brooks entered. “Good to see you up, sir.” He turned to Maria. “I need to speak with him alone about some operational matters.”
Caden slumped into a chair.
“Already?” Anger flared in Maria’s eyes. “Can’t you let him recover first?”
Brooks blushed.
Caden raised his hand in a stop motion. “It’s okay, Maria.”
“No, it’s not. Two days ago you were on the verge of death and I had to watch you, wondering every moment if you would live or die. Now you’re back, but you can’t even rest a couple of days?”
He looked at her for several moments. “You’re right.” Caden turned to Brooks. “Is anyone going to die if you don’t talk to me?”
Brooks glanced at Maria and then back at Caden. “General Harwich has been very eager to speak with you. I told him you would probably be well enough today.”
“What does he want to talk about?”
Again Brooks glanced at Maria, then returned his gaze to Caden. “Ah … he hasn’t told me much. I received this order six days ago.” He handed a paper to Caden.
Maria sat on the only other chair in the room and fixed angry eyes on Brooks.
Caden read the order, folded it, and handed it back. “I’ll phone him … soon.”
“Yes, sir.” Brooks saluted. “Welcome back.” He glanced at Maria. “I’ll see you in a few days then.”
With his own glance at Maria, Caden said, “Maybe longer.”
Brooks turned and left.
Maria stood and helped Caden to his feet.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Okay, take me home. I promis
e to stay there while I recover and regain my strength before coming back here.”
Maria slipped her arm around Caden. As they walked from the room she turned to him. “There’s something I need to tell you before we get home. Something important.”
* * *
Hollister Hotel, Wednesday, October 14th
Zach and Vicki rode the elevator down to the lobby after breakfast. The sound of Mr. Hollister cutting a board in a far corner greeted them as they exited.
Vicki shook her head as they walked. “All Mr. Hollister does is work. He’s practically been living down here since his wife died.”
“He just wants to get the place fixed up. When things get back to normal—.”
DeLynn came out of the office holding a letter. “This was in with some business mail.” She handed it to Zach. “It looks all official. I never thought of this before, but we should set you guys up with mailboxes.”
Vicki looked at the envelope. “What’s the War Mobilization Board?”
Zach shrugged as he examined the envelope. “I don’t know.” He shoved it in a pocket. “I’ll deal with it later.”
DeLynn turned to Vicki. “Could I get your help in the bakery for a few minutes?”
“Sure, I’ll be right there.” When DeLynn turned the corner Vicki pointed to the letter that barely protruded from his pocket. “I can see the concern on your face. What is the letter about?”
Zach pulled it from his pocket and tore it open.
Greetings, a local board composed of your neighbors has determined that you are available for training and service in the armed forces of the United States. You are hereby notified that you have been selected for training and service in the Army. Under the War Mobilization Act recently passed by Congress, you are hereby ordered to report for duty at 0800 on Monday, November 2nd at Joint Base Lewis-McChord.
Zach stuffed it back in his pocket. His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do.
Vicki’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. “What is it?”
“Don’t say anything to DeLynn.” Zach shook his head. “I’ve got to talk to Major Westmore. I’ve been drafted.”
