Seeking a Sane Society: Nothing is the Same (The Seeking Series Book 2)

by Albert A. Correia

  A smile cracked his lips as he continued, “That’s where we come in. When we offer them food, shelter and, of course, let them have a little illicit fun now and then, they’ll do our work and thank us for the opportunity.”

  “Illicit fun?”

  “Think about it, Mal. When you were getting away with stuff, didn’t you feel like you were free, that you were putting something over on ‘the man’?” The big fellow thought a second. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “We don’t want these people to feel like they’re slaves, but they’re going to be working for nothing but basic sustenance and that little feeling. Naturally, we have to get enough that none of them have to work too hard.”

  “How you going to come up with the ‘basic sustenance’ for them?”

  “Big property owners can come up with a lot of stuff,” Silva explained.

  “And they are?”

  “The duly elected government.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Slaughter thought for a minute and decided he needed more details.

  “So we’ll have ample means to pay the guys I’m out recruiting, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Silva replied with a broad smile. “You can promise them all kinds of things.” He winked at the big man. “Most of it will even prove true. It’s a new era. VeeVee here is writing up a new constitution for the state. The land will all belong to the ‘people,’ the usual euphemism for the government. As fortune would have it, we’re the government.”

  “It’s sounding better all the time.”

  “The thing is, we have to give this an air of legality,” Venable cautioned. “Just about all property ownership records went away when the buildings they were in were destroyed and most of the people who owned property were killed. But, there are still some people out there who will have documents in their possession.”

  “And that makes taking over those properties legally kinda dicey, right?” asked Slaughter.

  “That’s another reason we pegged you for this job, Mal,” Venable said. “You catch on quick.

  Those people and those records have to go away. So you can see there’s more than one reason we’ve been pushing you to build up the state militia fast. Which leads to the question, what’s the status on that issue?”

  “Hey, I haven’t had much more than a week. You only had about forty, and I threw in my twenty, but that only gave me sixty to start with. I made a deal with McFee for the six boats that came off the container ship. That gives us another forty-six troops and the start of a navy. I told McFee he’s the Admiral in charge of the naval arm of the militia, so he’s going up and down the coast recruiting more boats and crews. We already outnumber that lone coast guard ship six to one, but that ship is bigger and they have trained troops aboard. By beefing up our numbers the way we are, it’ll be twenty to one in no time. Plus, McFee has his eye on a four-hundred-foot cargo ship that he says will make a good warship once it’s armed. That’ll make us much stronger than that coast guard ship. We’ll rule the sea.”

  “Too bad the guys on that container ship chose to go out on their own,” Venable said. “It would have been great for us to have.”

  “That’s a story we can use when we run into reticent people,” Silva stated emphatically. “Look what going off on their own got them. They got blown to kingdom come.”

  “At a big cost to them – and to us,” Slaughter noted. “Three tanks, a helicopter, and a dozen bazookas. And that doesn’t include the hundreds of tons of ammo we could have put to good use, all blown up in one giant explosion. Ticks me off just thinking about it.”

  “Did your people ever figure out what happened?” Venable wanted to know.

  “McFee didn’t dare get close enough to where the fighting was to see them or they would have spotted him. He heard it, though, especially the big explosion that ended it. There’s no doubt what caused that big of a blast. It had to be a lucky shot that set off all that ammo.”

  “Can you replace any of it?” Venable asked.

  “Yeah, a lot of it,” Slaughter said. “It’ll take a little time, but there’s stuff in Army and Navy bases up and down the coast, and they’re practically unguarded. Well over ninety percent of the weapons and ammo were used or destroyed, but there are still some good pickings. When McFee gets his cargo ship, it’ll be well-armed.”

  “We seem to have the sea taken care of,” Silva said. “How about ground forces?”

  “When I’m not stuck here yakking with you two, I’m out collecting up gang members. I’ve got to admit, VeeVee, that you getting half of them out of prison gives me an added selling tool. Most are scared to death of me, and they know the guv here will steal enough to let them live in style. Add that we have the guy who can out slick anyone who tries to beat us legally, and we have an unbeatable trio.

  “In direct answer to your question, though, we’re up to one hundred seventy up north here. All tough and ruthless. The guy you call the Lieutenant Governor, Nick Garcia, is working out of the Rose Bowl, and he’s recruiting in the south. He has over a hundred so far. When we’ve doubled the number, we’ll be ready to go out in force to collect the workers and go after any headstrong property owners. We’ll keep on building up the forces after that, of course, for any unforeseeable needs.”

  “How about communications?” The question came from Venable.

  “That’s another thing McFee is good for,” Slaughter reported. “He knows about radios. He got me that single sideband over there, and he found eleven more. Garcia has two down south, I’ve got this one, and I have another one for you two to use. The rest are on boats.”

  “Speaking of the radio and boats,” Silva said, “You’d better get on that thing and get in touch with the boats heading to Catalina. The sooner we get rid of the leaders out there, the sooner we can go get some ‘taxes.’”

  “I’m on it, guv.”

  * * * * *

  Mary overheard the entire conversation between the members of the “unbeatable trio.” By now, it was clear that her belief that Silva had reformed was a massive misunderstanding of what was really happening. He was as bad as people said he was, and the other two weren’t any better. She didn’t think of herself as a patriot or even being brave, but she did know right from wrong.

  There was no doubt that what she just heard was very wrong.

  She just didn’t have the faintest notion what she could do about it.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 9

  PECKHAM came out from the building and joined Zach and Stacey at the table. “I put spotters on both sides of the Isthmus Cove entrance,” he said. “We’ll see them long before they get within shooting range.”

  “What about Catalina Bay?” Zach asked.

  “They’re coming from the mainland. Why would they go all the way around the island to come in that way?”

  “We need to be ready for anything.”

  “Even if they did go around, they would pass to the north. Going south would take hours longer. Our spotter on the north side of Isthmus Cove would see anyone heading that way.”

  “Yes, but there could be other boats out there.”

  “Good point,” Peckham agreed. He got up and went back inside the building. Ten minutes later, he returned. “I have a couple of people going to the other side to watch that entrance. It turns out those two boats aren’t a danger, though. Captain Kotchel called and said they turned further south and are no longer headed our way.”

  “Further south?” Stacey interjected. “That could mean they’re going to Avalon, couldn’t it? Zach, that’s where we were planning to go tomorrow.”

  “We’d better put that off for at least another day,” Zach said. “I hoped to get a look at the situation there before Captain Kotchel arrived with the people from Simi Valley, but it would be too risky if there are two boats full of armed thugs headed that way. We’ll have to keep in touch with the Captain and time it so that we arrive about the same time as the coast guard cutter.”


  “I agree,” said Stacey. “It’s not only safer; it will give us more time to work out a plan for what we’re going to do when we arrive there.”

  “That’s wise,” Peckham said. “I know you can handle yourselves, but I’m glad to see you’re not the kind to go out looking for a fight.”

  “If we never have another one,” Zach told the acting mayor, “it would make all of us extraordinarily happy. Unfortunately, the last month has taught us that we can expect many more to come at us.”

  “Sad, but true,” said Peckham. “But, we should have some time before the next one comes our way. In addition to planning your activities at Avalon, perhaps you can join us in working out some other plans this afternoon.”

  “What plans?”

  “We need to lay out some kind of charter or constitution for governing the island until order is restored on the mainland.”

  Zach nodded. They would definitely need a plan of some kind beyond just how to function day-to-day. Something else was nipping at his thought processes, though. It was the kind of feeling he had many times in combat when he felt things were happening around him that he knew nothing about.

  * * * * *

  Mary Ambrose stood frozen to the spot. She was mopping the floor when she heard the first exchange in the lobby. She knew she had to do something, but what? She was a housekeeper, a powerless person. . . and from all she heard over the last month, all government agencies were destroyed. When she went out on the street, she seldom saw anyone, and most of those she did see frightened her.

  Even though the conversation in the other room concluded two minutes ago, she didn’t move. Finally, a thought came that might actually mean something. She had seen Larry Campbell several weeks earlier. Twice, actually. He wasn’t an official or anything, but he was the editor of the local newspaper. If the newspaper still existed, anyway. That meant something, didn’t it? If anyone would know what to do, wouldn’t it be him? The newspaper office was just a little over two blocks away.

  There hadn’t been an edition of the newspaper printed for over a month, so would he be there? Probably not, but when she saw him, it was near there. Maybe he went there sometimes, if only out of habit. Besides, it was the only idea she had.

  Careful not to make noise, she laid the mop handle down on the floor next to the sudsy bucket. Removing her tattered shoes, she carried them as she walked as quietly as she could across the room to the back door. It was one of those doors that could be opened from the inside by pushing down on the door-wide lever. She knew it would lock closed behind her, but that was something she would have to worry about later.

  She eased it shut, releasing the knob slowly so there wouldn’t be a click. Despite her care, it did click slightly. The sound was almost imperceptible, but to her it was like a gun going off. She froze again, her hand still on the lever. There was no sound from inside to indicate someone had heard. She released her grip slowly, again listening for any telltale sounds of spies within. It was still silent.

  There were no sounds outside, either. No cars went by, no horns honked, and no planes flew overhead. There were no shoppers gabbing, no babies crying, and no dogs barking. She never thought of it before, but the sounds of humanity had always been reassuring to her. Despite her relief at not being heard by those inside, she was desperate to hear something, anything, out in the open where everyday noises had always been a sign that life existed.

  Still carrying her shoes, she walked silently across the back parking lot. The lot served the stores that fronted on the next street over from the Tracy Inn as well as that historic building. Most of the back doors of the stores were open, left that way by the looters who ransacked every building still standing in the town. Mary walked through what used to be a doughnut shop. There was nothing there now except the lingering smells. It reminded her that she hadn’t had breakfast, but she had no time for that now. She sat on the floor and put her shoes on before continuing.

  When she got to the front door, she peeked out onto the street; it was empty. There were a few cars parked at odd angles, and others were overturned, but there were no people. The newspaper office was two blocks to her right, so she eased out the doorway onto the sidewalk and walked in that direction. Sensing movement across the street, she shot a glance that way. She thought she saw a door move slightly, motivating her to step up her pace.

  When she got to the newspaper office, the door was closed. That caused her to stop short. Almost all the other doors were open or broken and hanging on bent hinges. She looked around and saw no one, not even at the place where she thought she’s seen the door move. She put her ear to the door, but heard nothing. She was afraid. What if it opened and there was someone waiting behind it? There was a second entrance to the building thirty feet further on, so she went over to check it. That door, too, was closed. Perplexed, she tried to decide what to do next. She couldn’t get back in to the Tracy Inn the way she came out. Why had she let the door close and lock? Why hadn’t she tried to prop it open with something? The only way to get back in was to go through the lobby’s back door, or all the way around to the front. Either way, they would know she left the building and would ask why.

  She had to do something, so she finally tried the door in front of her. It was locked. Even though she knew she should want it to open, she sighed with relief when it didn’t. Her nerves were getting the best of her. She felt her hands shaking and couldn’t think. What could she do? Go back to the Tracy Inn and face those awful men? What choice did she have? None. She had nowhere else to go. But, she would have to pass by the door that moved. Keeping her eye firmly on that door, she walked cautiously back toward the vacant doughnut shop.

  She shrieked and jumped with fright as she passed the first newspaper office door when a gruff, authoritative voice ordered:

  “Stop right where you are!”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 10

  “AND just what the devil are you doing here?”

  Mary turned to see Police Chief Manuel Madruga standing in the doorway, arms folded. Even though he had no officers to chief right now, he wore his brown uniform and looked mean.

  When he saw who he stopped, his expression turned to curiosity. “Mary?” he exclaimed! “Why are you skulking around here? Nobody walks the streets these days without a reason,”

  “I. . . I have a. . . a reason.”

  “Which is?”

  “I have something. . . important. . . to tell Mr. Campbell.” Her face brightened. “I should tell you, I think.”

  He took her arm and led her into the building, scanning the street before he closed and locked the door behind them. They were in the reception area of the ransacked newspaper office; what remained was back in place. He took her over to a row of four chairs and suggested she sit. He took a seat next to her.

  It took her a minute or two to get to the subject. She first explained why she was at the Tracy Inn and exactly what she was doing in the banquet room. Madruga listened patiently as she described where she was standing in relationship to the three men in the next room.

  When she finally got to the subject and recited what the men said, the chief leaned in and listened carefully. In less than two minutes, he put up his hand and said, “Mary, there are others who need to hear this as well. We were in a meeting down the hall when we heard you outside. Do you mind? There are just two, and Larry Campbell is one of them.”

  “Then you think this is important? I wasn’t fussing over nothing?”

  “Hugely important. Come with me.”

  He rose, took her hand, and led her down the hall to a small conference room. When they entered, the two men sitting at the twenty-foot conference table rose. One was in a business suit, albeit without a tie. The other wore jeans and a plaid, long-sleeved shirt with sleeves rolled up.

  “Gentlemen,” Madruga said, “do you know Mary Ambrose? Mary is a long-time employee of the Tracy Inn.”

  “I’ve known Mary for years,” said Larry Campbell. He was
in a suit. “How are you Mary?”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Campbell,” she said. But her hand was trembling when he shook it.

  “Mary is kind of spooked right now,” said Madruga. “You’ll understand why in a few moments.” He turned to the other man. “Ted?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure,” the man said as he walked around the table to greet the newcomer.

  “My name is Ted West, Mary.”

  “Ted has a ranch north of town,” Madruga said.

  “The islands?” she asked, referring to an area where branches of the San Joaquin River snaked around and meandered for miles, forming fresh water islands.

  “Yes,” West replied.

  She turned back to Madruga. “He will really be interested in this.”

  West headed back to his chair, and then turned back. “Why?”

  “She hadn’t gotten to that part yet when I decided to bring her here,” Madruga replied. “Look, why don’t we all sit down and let Mary talk. From what I’ve heard so far, she has a story that will have a major impact on our meeting topic.”

  “I went in to mop the banquet hall floor,” she began, and Madruga put up a hand to forestall any impatient comments, knowing Mary had to tell it in her own way. When she finally got to the interchanges between Silva and his cohorts, her little audience listened intently.

  * * * * *

  “This isn’t germane to the situation except that it shows that there’s no sense talking to the man,” Campbell said. “Silva has always been a bad apple, and reason never dissuades him. We were in the same class, and I remember him cheating on tests back in the seventh grade. He even tried to buy votes to get elected student body president in high school.”

  “I remember your newspaper campaigning against him when he was on the city council,” Madruga remarked.

  “He was trying to raid pension funds for one of his wild redevelopment schemes,” Campbell said. “When that failed, he set his sights even higher. Some of his tax proposals when he managed to get himself elected to the California Assembly would have bankrupted half the people and given him and his little group of allies in the legislature tremendous power. They would have been in position to manage it like a virtual dictatorship.”