Raging Storm

by Vannetta Chapman

  “And the church, Saint Mary…if I remember correctly, it’s here.” She pushed another pin into the map.

  Max stepped back, crossed his arms, and studied the situation north of the capitol. “Of the two, I’d say Reverend Hernandez is the bigger threat.”

  “Analyzed like a true lawyer.” Reed took off her glasses, letting them dangle from a jeweled eyeglass chain. As she stared at the board, she said, “I agree with you. Unfortunately, Hernandez and Diego aren’t our only threats—not even close.”

  Silence followed that ominous statement. Shelby waited. Her friends waited. Even Gabe waited. Finally, as if coming out of a stupor, Reed plastered on a smile and said, “But you’ve given us a better picture of what the area to the north looks like, and I thank you. We send out patrols, of course, but they are of limited value as many people run and hide when they see a military vehicle.”

  Patrick nodded toward the map. “The people who are preying on others are like rats, running for the sewer at the first sign of anything bigger than them.”

  “And the regular folks are frightened,” Bianca said. “And increasingly more desperate.”

  “We will help them.” Reed picked up her glasses and perched them back on her nose. “Not as soon as I’d like, but we will help them. I want to thank you all for coming in to see me. Now Gabe will take you to some better accommodations for the night, and I wish you a safe journey on your trip back to Abney.”

  Shelby had been relatively quiet, studying Reed and trying to decide if she trusted her. The woman seemed competent and well intentioned. She seemed like someone who could handle an emergency, perhaps better than most politicians. Even an emergency of this magnitude.

  However, Shelby’s impatience had been building, and when the governor effectively dismissed them, that impatience boiled over.

  “But we’re not going home. We’re not leaving until we find what we came after. We need insulin, antibiotics…a whole list of things that Gabe must have showed you. Without those things many people in Abney will die, and without the insulin, my son’s days are numbered.”

  FORTY-NINE

  Max wasn’t surprised when Shelby’s patience reached its limit. She reminded him of a rubber band, stretched to the breaking point.

  Fortunately, Governor Reed seemed to realize the same thing, and she immediately put Shelby’s fears at rest.

  “You will receive the medications that you need, including the insulin. I’m sorry I alarmed you. I thought that was understood. Gabe shared with me the details in his report, and I’m having it packed up for you now.”

  “So you’ll give it to us? You’ll give us everything we asked for?” Shelby sank back into her chair, the tension draining from her.

  “Yes. Honestly, insulin isn’t an issue. In most cases, a diabetic person would be denied the opportunity to serve in the military. There have been exceptions, of course, but my point is that we can supply you with a year’s worth of insulin. That’s what you were requesting. Correct?”

  “It is.” Shelby glanced at Max, as if needing to confirm that she wasn’t imagining the conversation.

  “What about Abney?” he asked.

  “That’s a little trickier, as antibiotics and the other things listed are items that we might conceivably need here.” She sat back and again removed her glasses. “In my opinion, the supplies we have are being safeguarded here for the citizens of Texas. We’re not taking it from them. We’re simply providing a secure place to store it.”

  “People need those medications now, ma’am,” Patrick pointed out.

  “Of course they do. I wish I could distribute it to them now, but my priority has to be defending the capitol. Once this area is secure, once we’ve reclaimed Austin, then I will send out supply transports, which will include medication.”

  “But we can take some with us?” Bianca had reached over to grasp Shelby’s hand.

  “Yes. You’re here. The medication is for people who need it. You’d be doing me a favor by taking it with you.” She cleared her throat. “There are some who would disagree with me, but they’re not governor, and I am. So, yes, you may have everything you requested.”

  “And it’s being loaded into our vehicles now?” Patrick asked.

  “It is. I suggest you wait until sunrise to leave, for safety’s sake.”

  “Agreed,” Max said. He had no intention of taking this group back through Diego’s territory or by Reverend Hernandez’s church in the middle of the night.

  “Thank you.” Shelby still looked stunned. “We have things to trade. We brought—”

  “That’s not necessary,” the governor assured her. “You keep that. It could be that you’ll need it in the future.”

  “Well, if you think of any way that we can thank you, please let us know.”

  Gabe had been silent through this exchange, but now he glanced at Shelby’s notebook, and then he looked directly at her. “Since you’re going to be here for the night, perhaps you could leave your notebook with us.”

  “Leave it?”

  “We have a scanner. I’ve watched you take detailed notes since we left Abney. It could be that there’s something in there, something you’re not even aware of, that will help us to prepare for what we’ll face once we take the fight outside the capitol.”

  “Gabe’s right,” the governor said. “If you’re willing—”

  “Of course. Yes. Of course I am.” Shelby glanced at Max, and he knew what she was thinking, could practically hear the sigh of relief that she hadn’t included any details about the Remnant.

  He trusted Governor Reed and thought she was a good leader, but things had a way of spiraling away from where you thought they’d go. For now, it was better to keep details of the Remnant between them. And besides, what the governor wanted was any information on groups that were challenging state authorities. That description did not fit the Remnant. They had a completely different mission. Defying authority was not their goal. At least not yet. He hoped it never would be.

  Shelby had clipped her pen to the notebook and handed it to the governor.

  “Thank you. I’ll have this returned to you before you leave.”

  They quickly found themselves back outside on the steps of the capitol building—Max, Shelby, Patrick, Bianca, and Gabe.

  Once they were down the steps, away from the guards, Shelby jumped, punching in the air, and letting out a squeal of delight.

  “We did it! I wasn’t sure we could. It seemed like everything was stacked against us, but we did it!” The squeal was followed by a round of hugs and high fives.

  She saved Max for last. When she moved to slap his hand, he pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear. “Carter’s going to be fine, and he’s lucky to have you for his mother.”

  She touched his cheek once and started to answer. Changing her mind, she kissed him on the other cheek and whispered, “Thank you” before pulling away.

  Something inside Max blossomed, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Certainly not since the flare, and maybe even before that. Maybe it was something he’d smothered well before the sun changed their world.

  For the first time in many years, Max experienced hope. That they would get the supplies of medication back to the people who needed them and that Carter would be fine. He caught a glimpse of a future with Shelby, one that was more than friendship. He allowed himself to dream about the next day and the next one after that with Shelby in his arms, by his side, completing his life. And in that moment the thought crossed his mind that just possibly the life they were building could be better than the one they’d left behind.

  FIFTY

  Shelby was still feeling elated an hour later when there was a tap on the door of their room. Their new sleeping digs included a room they didn’t have to share with any other group. Six cots lined the wall, and the windows that faced the lawn could be opened, allowing a delicious breeze to cool the area. What had been an office now resembled a hastily thrown togethe
r dorm room. And when they’d arrived, they had found their backpacks sitting on the cots, though of course the weapons had been removed.

  Everyone was sprawled out except Gabe, who had promised he would meet them in the morning, return the notebook, and take them to their vehicles.

  At the sound of the knock, Max hurried across the room—shoeless but still wearing his socks—and opened the door. Shelby sat up, rubbing her eyes and trying to remember what it felt like to actually sleep. Her watch said it was only nine in the evening, but her body was convinced it was much later.

  “Danny. Come on in. We weren’t expecting to see you again.”

  “I wanted to check on you.” He stepped into the room, nodding at each person in turn, his gaze lingering a moment on Shelby, or so it felt to her, before he sat down on one of the unoccupied cots. “Listen. I’m sorry to say I checked around, and I just can’t find the medical supplies you need. What little we have—”

  “It’s okay!” Shelby grinned at Danny, who stared at her in disbelief.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we have it. Or we will have it. The governor agreed to provide the insulin and the other medicines for us to take to Abney.”

  “That’s great news. That’s really something. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you? We didn’t know ourselves until an hour ago.”

  “So you have the supplies…here?”

  “No. She’s having someone load it in our vehicles.” Shelby had the feeling that she was grinning like a clown, but she couldn’t help it. She was so relieved, so ecstatic that they could go home the next day with the things they needed.

  “We’re supposed to meet Gabe in the morning,” Patrick said. “Wait. I know why you look confused. You know Farhan Bhatti, but you probably didn’t know his real name is Gabe Thompson. Anyway, he works with the governor, and he’s been a real help to both us and the administration.”

  “Unfortunately, he won’t be going back with us.” Max didn’t sit back down. He stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, yawning. “He was a real benefit to Abney, but apparently he’s being assigned somewhere else.”

  “Which is okay, because we’ve had some of our regular doctors show up.” Bianca slipped into Spanish as she plucked at the light blanket on her bed. “Que puedes hacer?”

  She was thinking about her dad. Shelby knew without having to ask. She moved over to her friend’s cot, put an arm around her shoulder and said, “You did the best you could do, that’s what. We all did.”

  “I know, and I know that medicine would not have saved Papá.” She plastered on a smile. “Don’t mind me. I’m tired, is all.”

  “I’m sure you all are.” Danny stood, shook hands with Patrick and Bianca and Max. When he reached Shelby, it seemed to her that he was about to say something, but instead he shook her hand and said, “Be safe.”

  “When will we see you again?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t say. I guess none of us knows what tomorrow will bring.” And then he was gone.

  They were quiet for a few minutes. Max lay back on his cot. Bianca rummaged through her pack until she came out with an old Bible. It was about the size of a small journal. She didn’t open it, though. She put her hand on top of it and closed her eyes.

  The room wasn’t dark yet. The sun didn’t set until eight thirty, and twilight lasted another thirty minutes or so. Shelby might have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, the light had vanished. She could just make out the shapes of Max and Patrick standing near the windows, talking in low voices.

  She could have asked them what was wrong, what they were worried about, but she realized she didn’t want to know. For just this night, she wanted to believe that everything was going to be fine. Tomorrow, she would deal with any new problems that popped up.

  But one thing was certain. Come daylight, they were headed back to Abney.

  FIFTY-ONE

  Less than an hour after Danny Vail left, there was another tap on their door.

  “I didn’t realize how popular we were,” Max muttered.

  In some distant part of Shelby’s mind, she heard him speaking to someone in a low voice, and then he was beside her cot, shaking her awake.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He put a finger to his lips. “Come in the hall with me. Let’s not wake the others.”

  “I’m awake,” Patrick said.

  “G.I. Joe’s up, but let’s not wake Bianca.”

  The sound of her friend’s light snore drifted across the room, causing Shelby to smile. At least Bianca was getting some rest.

  She carried her shoes with her left hand and ran her fingers through her hair with her right. No doubt she looked a fright. She hadn’t glanced in a mirror since the day before, or maybe the day before that. When she patted her hair, she could feel the curls were reaching halo proportions. Well, it wasn’t the first time Max had seen her a mess, and whoever had come to visit would just have to deal with it.

  She stepped out into the hall in front of Max, and heard him shut the door quietly behind them. Turning around, she blinked in surprise. “Governor Reed. Is something wrong?”

  “No, but I’d like to talk to you. I’m sorry for the late hour.”

  “Talk? Here?”

  “Maybe we could walk downstairs.”

  They found a room that had been set up with tables and chairs. Several lanterns sat darkened on the middle of the tables. Shelby glanced at her watch—it was only ten o’clock, but the room was empty. Everyone was in bed. Funny how their sleeping patterns had reverted back to a farmer’s lifestyle. They were up at sunrise and asleep by the time it was good and dark. No more late nights scouring the Internet, watching television, or reading one more chapter. She was reminded again that life had changed, and they had changed with it. Surviving took every ounce of energy they had.

  Governor Reed lit one of the lanterns and then looked surprised when Max pulled up a chair and joined them.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your sleep, Max. I’m sure Shelby and I will be fine.”

  “I’ll stay.” He crossed his arms, as if daring the governor to argue.

  Shelby nodded.

  “All right.” Reed placed the messenger bag she was carrying on the table and pulled out Shelby’s journal. Instead of handing it to her, she placed it on top of the bag and tapped it with her index finger. “This is very good. It provides a perspective that we simply don’t have of what is happening out there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I have a proposal for you.”

  Shelby’s pulse quickened, and Reed immediately realized her mistake. “It’s not about the medical supplies. That’s a done deal, Shelby. I won’t go back on my word.”

  “What kind of proposal?”

  “When we first designed Operation Nightshade, we worked diligently to envision what types of professionals we might need—both white collar and blue collar. We tried to anticipate every aspect of this disaster, but in many aspects it was inconceivable. Oh, we understood what it would mean to be without a power grid, but how people would react? And the cascade effects of their decisions? Those things were in many respects beyond our grasp to even imagine until three weeks ago.”

  “What does this have to do with Shelby?” Max asked, clearly impatient with her preamble.

  Reed ignored him, her attention still on Shelby. “We sent out two hundred and fifty-four individuals with a wide variety of skills, but it didn’t occur to us to send out a reporter.”

  “The government has never been especially cozy with the press.” Max sat forward, propping his elbows on the table.

  “True, but when there is no press, when there is no one documenting the details of what has happened, then the truth of the past, and of the present, is even more susceptible to manipulation.”

  “People will lie.”

  “They will. They already are, and those lies are spreading quickly.”

  “Factions agains
t the government?”

  “Both state and federal. That is one of my concerns, but I have others, perhaps owing to the fact that I worked fifteen years in academia before I became governor.”

  “You were the head of the state board of education.” Shelby suddenly remembered why she’d voted for Reed to begin with—she’d cared about their children. She’d been a logical, level voice in a volatile time when the state was reassessing everything from textbooks to school security.

  “As an educator, it’s important for me to see that the times we find ourselves in are documented accurately.” Reed again tapped the journal before pushing it toward Shelby. “I want you to come and work for me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We need someone like you. You could interview the refugees who come into the compound—”

  Shelby’s anger flashed. “What about those on the outside? The ones you won’t let in?”

  “That’s another thing I like about you, something I discovered when I read over your notes. You are willing to take some risk, and you listen to people. Yes, we need to know what’s going on outside as well. We’d send you to different locations around the state, with an escort, of course, and you could report back to me.”

  Shelby made her decision before the governor stopped talking. In fact, it was no decision at all. The thought of working for the government, of being away from Carter, was ludicrous. He was her life. He was why she was risking her life. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s quite a compliment, but I have to go back to Abney. I have a son.”

  “Who turns eighteen next month. I read that too. You were quite thorough in your description of the situation back at High Fields.”

  “Yes, he turns eighteen, and I need to be there.”

  “Why?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why do you need to be there? Max can deliver the insulin. His parents are providing a home for Carter.”

  “I’m his mother.”

  “Let me ask you a question.” Reed glanced at Max but continued addressing her comments directly to Shelby. “Would you have followed him to college?”