by G. R. Carter
A bald man, known as Little Adolph to his very limited friends, gave a wolflike grin. The creases on his face didn’t match the blue-ink spider webs that spread from below his gray jumpsuit all the way up to the top of his head. The whole package gave him a terrifying look, a real-life monster to anyone he ran into on the street. But with consecutive life sentences stacked so high nobody knew for sure how long he had left to serve, Little Adolph would never see the street in his natural life. “Russkies, Greasers, Blackies and Beaners…what a mess this place is.”
“Shut your pie hole, Adolph,” Lewis said. “We got work to do here. There’s a problem and you brain surgeons need to keep a lid on your people until it gets figured out.”
The table got quiet. Very seldom were the heads of the Five Tribes summoned together. When the warden needed to tell them something, it was usually Lewis or Morton delivering the message in private. This was different and they all knew it.
Lewis continued. “If you’ve been too busy playing house with your wives to notice, the generator is currently the only thing keeping the lights on right now. That’s because the electrical grid is down. I’m sure you’ve all noticed the prison phones aren’t working either. So I’m sorry to say, you are officially cut off from the outside world for the foreseeable future.”
The groans from around the table belied the fact that these same men still gave and received orders from members of their organizations outside the prison system.
“Was wondering why home not answer ,” Mogilevich snorted. “Was getting a little angry.”
“When we gonna have service back? We got rights, you know,” Trevino said.
Lewis shook his head. “I don’t want to hear the prison college law degree crap today, Angel. We got us a big ass problem if the grid doesn’t come back online. Our generator only stays running if we’ve got fuel for it. And that’s going to be running tight really soon.”
Trevino was one of the brighter ones, likely genius level if anyone had ever bothered to test him or educate him as a youth. He whistled as the image of their home behind bars without electricity sank in. “You gotta plan, man?”
“The warden’s working on it. And of course you can tell by the odor in the room that Sergeant Morton spent his morning pumping fuel by hand at one of the local fuel stations. He bought us another day at least.”
“We can go back again tomorrow for more. But they’re only going to let us have a day’s worth at a time,” Morton confirmed.
“Let’s just go take what we need. Why we gotta wait on a buncha hillbillies to tell us what we can do?” Dawley asked.
“Because we’re still ruled by some sort of laws around here, Cha Cha,” Lewis shot back.
Cha Cha laughed at him. “Come on man, I talked to your owners face-to-face. Jordan Inc. don’t care about no laws. They as mobbed up as old Silvio over there. Look at the money they makin’ here. Man, we the goods. And the goods ain’t happy with no electricity. Believe that.”
“They’re not our owners, Cha Cha. They’re our employers. And in a way, they’re your employers, too. You keep your tribe in line, they keep you well paid and comfortable in here.”
“That a threat, Mr. Big?”
Lewis looked up from one of the documents he was scanning and sighed. “Yes.”
Cha Cha wasn’t laughing anymore. “We outnumber you twenty to one in here. We decide we gonna take somethin’, it’s goin’ down.”
“Even if you did, where are you going to go? You step one foot outside of these walls and the locals will happily gun you down,” Lewis warned.
“We got them outnumbered too. Bunch of old-ass hillbillies,” Trevino growled.
“And each one of those hillbillies has a firearms collection that would rival a small police force. They know how to use them, and a good many of them would kill you in cold blood and sleep perfectly fine tonight,” Lewis shot back.
“Maybe not if we had you as a hostage, Mr. Big. That give us some leverage right there.”
Morton had had enough. “That’s Captain Lewis to you, Dawley. I think he’s made it perfectly clear. Get in the warden’s car, or find another ride. Check?”
Heads slowly nodded around the table. Lewis was no joke, but Red Morton was the true leader of the correctional officer’s union. Being cool with the Eels could make life a breeze inside. Mess with them, life could get real uncomfortable, really quick.
Dawley gave his famous thousand-watt smile. “It’s cool, Sarge. I’s just messin’ with ya.”
Lewis took back over. “Today’s not the day. I’m telling you, this could get serious in a hurry.”
“So what you want us to do?” Mogilevich asked. “How we help the big boss lady?”
Lewis slid a piece of paper in front of each leader and then gave one to Red. “I want you to make a list of anyone in your tribe who could cause you real trouble. I’m not looking for vics. I’m talking about someone who’ll try to rise up, settle a beef with another tribe, anything that can cause the yard to pop off if things get stressful.”
“And then?”
“And then you’re going to give me your word that if we need to X them out, you’ll do it. I don’t want any cross-tribe stuff. You’re the shot-callers here, you gotta handle your business,” Lewis said.
Morton shifted in his seat. Lewis hadn’t run this by him before the meeting. What he was suggesting meant the COU would have to look the other way when a murder was going down. Not that it hadn’t happened before, but to sanction it prison-wide was a whole other issue.
“And mine?” Morton asked.
“Yours is a cross-reference. Call it checks and balances. You’ve got a good pulse of the yard. If one of the tribes is trying to pull something, you’ll sniff it out,” Lewis answered. Morton could feel the stares of the tribe leaders.
He shrugged and nodded.
Lewis continued. “This table will meet twice a day until the electricity is restored. The warden will brief me, I’ll brief you, and I expect all of you to properly mislead your tribes about the complexity of the situation.”
“And if we don’t?” Little Adolph asked.
“There’s always someone itching to be a shot-caller. Maybe your successor will be more cooperative,” Lewis said, stonefaced.
“Good God, I think the old Captain Lewis is back,” Salvatore Romano said. “You shoulda seen him in the old days. A real head-crackin’ CO. Back before they had the fancy suits. He'd just wade into the middle of the yard, swingin' a big long wooden stick. Didn't care who got cracked. I see that look back in his eyes. Maybe he didn’t go too soft after all.”
Lewis didn’t acknowledge the halfhearted compliment. “Any other questions? No? You know how to reach me if any serious comes up.” With a nod, the Eels against the walls took one step forward. They didn’t touch any of the tribe leaders; everyone knew the drill, and it was a bad look for them to be handled.
Morton and Lewis stayed behind.
“What else is my list for?” Morton said when everyone else was gone.
Lewis looked at him in admiration. “You could have been Captain, Red. The way you see three steps ahead… ” he didn't finish that thought, but answered Morton's question. “Any COU member who won’t be a team player. I don’t want to spend time and energy getting the tribes in line just to get undercut by some righteous do-gooder on staff,” Lewis said. He started digging through a stack of files. Some folders were labeled “Personnel,” some “Supplies.”
Morton froze, unable to find the words. Lewis felt his discomfort and looked him in the eyes.
“Good lord, Red, I’m not talking about killing them! I’m talking about letting them go. Think of it as a chance to get rid of some deadweight. In an emergency situation we don't have to go through all the HR stuff to fire people. Skip all the paperwork the HR department demands.”
Relief washed over Morton. He chastised himself for letting the mind wander where it shouldn’t have.
Lewis’ next words brought s
ome of the tension back. “Anyone dragging their feet on Continuity Progressions should be on there, too.”
“Come on, Pete,” Morton said. “You don’t buy into that cult BS, do you?”
“Doesn’t matter what I believe. Jordan Inc. makes the rules. We just enforce them.”
“They ban all chaplains, any prison ministries, wipe away anything having to do with religion…then they replace it with their own.”
Lewis looked up from the files. “You denying that they’ve lowered the violence in this facility to nearly zero?”
Morton shook his head. “I’m not. I don’t even care you’re making the prisoners do it. But the guards? Come on, Pete. What happened to freedom of religion?”
Lewis snorted. “Should be freedom from religion. And besides, the guards have the freedom to quit if they don’t like the rules.” His look made the implication clear.
Morton threw up his hands. “Okay, alright, I’ll do what you ask.”
Lewis slapped him on the back. “We’re survivors, Red, you and I. We do what's necessary to make it through one more day in this jungle. We slip just a little and those animals,” he pointed to the door where the tribe shot-callers walked out, “will eat us alive. The COU has got to stick together. Especially now.”
Chapter 11
Ridgeview Hunting Lodge
Rural Brown County, Illinois
Day One of the Great Reset
Kara Bradshaw hummed a quiet tune she didn’t know the words to, rocking young Trey Casey on her lap. She wasn’t sure how much the boy really understood about his grandfather’s death. But the little guy knew everyone around him was upset, most importantly his daddy. Kara stroked the boy’s sandy brown hair as he stirred. “Shhhh. It’s okay, Trey. It’s all going to be okay,” she whispered.
The door creaked open, revealing Trey’s father. Kara’s heart hurt at the sight of the man’s sunken eyes, bright red glowing against his normally aristocratic face that closely mirrored Ben's. Kara smiled sweetly, trying to bring slight comfort to the grieving man.
This was the first time since the elder Casey’s death that JR had left his father's room. JR tried to return the smile and knelt down beside Trey. He smiled sweetly at his son and rubbed his arm. Trey opened his eyes, saw his daddy and nearly jumped into his arms. Kara watched as they hugged for a long while.
The sound of Sy’s truck pulling up caught JR’s attention. He stood, still holding Trey’s hand, and leading him towards the door. Before they left the room, both Caseys turned and looked back at Kara, giving her nearly identical sad smiles. She followed them out of the door and down the stairs into the Great Room.
Without a word, Darwin walked straight to JR and grabbed him in bear hug. Kara walked toward Sy, and for the first time in forever hugged her brother in the same way. JR knew right away by the look on his friend’s faces that they hadn’t found any solutions to what to do with his father’s body. JR teared up again but fought with all his might to retain his composure.
King kept a hand on JR’s shoulder. “Look…uh…JR,” he stammered. “I promise we’re going to figure something out straightaway for your pops. But we got somethin’ else we need to ask you right now.”
King looked at Sy nervously and continued. “You’re prolly gonna think me strange for askin’ at a time like this. A while back your pops talked to me about the Casey family movin’ out of Chicago.”
JR gave King a look mixed between disgust and confusion. “Yeah, so what?”
“Ben said things were gonna get bad in the cities. Said somethin’ bad was a comin’. You figure he knew the power was gonna go out?”
JR fumed. “Darwin, how the hell is this relevant? We’re in the middle of BFE and the power went out. Big deal! Sy said it happens all the time. You're supposed to be figuring out a way we can get back to civilization… find someone to take care of Dad… ”
King cut him off. “And your father’s pacemaker just ups and quits? How often have those units failed? You’ve been testing them for years… The field trials, the government testing, you didn’t even have to bribe anyone to get ‘em approved. Now the power’s out, the wristbands and phones are out, your fancy never-fail car won’t work…”
He paused for a moment and Sy finished his thought. “There’s even Army trucks moving through town. Saw ’em with our own eyes.”
JR’s face twisted with conflict. His eyes were still bloodshot, face flushed, his hair the opposite of the usual perfect grooming. Here was a distraction to his grief, brought to him by men he knew to be his friends. Still…how absurd to be worrying about something like this.
“Dad told me a few times about an envelope in his briefcase…he always carried one of those old-style laptop bags. He insisted on it being with him, never went anywhere without it, even here…it’s still out in the car…” JR tried to clear his head, shaking out the cobwebs with a quick toss. “In all the confusion I completely forgot…” He rubbed his eyes and then the side of his head. “He said if anything ever happened to him, there was an envelope in there I was to read right away…He was more serious all the time about us getting the family out of the city.”
JR raised his eyes to Darwin. “Dad talked to you about it, didn’t he?”
Darwin nodded. “Right, JR. Reckon that’s related to this week?”
JR returned the nod, slowly at first, then more confidently. “I still don’t think dad told me everything he knew. He was always trying to protect me, even after I was grown, with kids of my own…” JR started to sob again. Sy and Darwin averted their eyes while he regained his composure. “Anyway, what he told me was a few very powerful people were going to attempt to seize control of the country, and big population areas would be very tough to survive.”
“How could a handful of people take over the entire country?” Kara asked. She’d been quietly taking the conversation in from the start.
Darwin and JR frowned at each other. JR answered first. “Kara, I don’t think you understand how few people are really pulling the strings in this world. They can take anything if they’re willing to pay the price. I assure you that.”
Sy shook his head. “I don’t believe that. I just can’t believe that. Power’s out for a few days and we’re talking about a conspiracy to take over the country—wait, you said ‘the world?’ I’m just a simple redneck living out here in BFE,” he couldn't help shoot a look at JR, “but I just can’t buy that.”
JR and Darwin didn’t respond; both were heading out of the Great Room and out on the porch.
“Sy,” JR said over his shoulder, “you have anything that can break safety glass? We need to get in that car.”
“Don’t have a clue, except maybe a shotgun?”
“Get a spark plug and break the ceramic off with a hammer. Throw the pieces at the glass, it’ll break.” All three men stopped and looked at Kara as she spoke. “What? I wasn’t always a perfect angel. I spent some time away from home, remember?”
The group still stared at her in silence. “Just try it,” she said again. “Small-sized chunks work best.”
Sy headed off to the equipment shed to find a spark plug, leaving Darwin and JR still gaping. Finally Darwin spoke up. “Darlin’,” he said with a smile. “You and I got some things to catch up on.”
“Maybe later,” Kara dismissed him. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to check on Trey and Max. They’re out on the trails with the dogs.”
Darwin and JR walked around the gleaming white BMW in silence. The expensive piece of metal, composite and glass sat statue-like in the driveway. The men could see their reflection in the tinted safety glass, but Casey Sr.’s briefcase was clearly visible sitting on the leather seats inside. “It’s gonna be a fortune to replace this window. I hope whatever is in that briefcase is worth the cost,” JR sighed.
“Part of me hopes it’s not,” Darwin replied.
JR looked at his friend, then nodded agreement.
“Ouch!” Sy was walking toward them, holdi
ng his left index finger with his right hand. “That crap is sharp.” He wiped the blood off a small cut. He carefully grabbed one of the pieces and held it up. “I did like she asked. Now what?”
“Throw it at the window,” Kara’s voice called from across the front lawn. She was standing at the treeline half-watching the kids play with a pack of waist-tall, slobbering collies. “But you better step back.”
The three men looked at each other, indecisive. Sy shrugged and waved the other two back. He reared back and tossed a piece at the passenger-side window. The tiny chunk made a plink and bounced off to the ground. Sy turned and looked at Kara in disgust.
“Like you really mean it, Sy,” his sister yelled.
The big man turned back to the car, wound up like the high school athlete he was, and threw the next chunk at high speed. The window exploded in a million pieces, showering the interior and the driveway with tiny man-made diamonds. There was silence as the three stared dumbfounded.
“How in the world…?” JR mumbled.
Darwin walked over and carefully reached inside. “Don’t worry, it’s safety glass, it won’t cut you,” JR assured him. “Of course, a few seconds ago I also thought it was unbreakable.”
They walked together back inside and spread the contents of the leather briefcase on the huge farmhouse-style wooden table that dominated the lodge’s dining room. There was an old-fashioned thumb drive, now worthless since the computers wouldn’t turn on, and also a CD sealed in plastic that they didn’t bother opening.
But the journal was what captured their attention. The sunlight coming in through the window gleamed off the warm brown leather cover, highlighting an embossed owl. A red ribbon marked a place about halfway through the paper leafs.
JR hesitated to open it, finally lifting the cover on Darwin’s reassurance. He read for a moment, seemed like he was going to start crying, then shook his head and went back to the pages. He lifted the page before, then the page before that. He pulled a chair back and sat down, his eyes never leaving the handwritten text of his father.
