by Bobby Akart
“Maddie, let’s get her inside,” said Colton, who then turned his attention to Alex. “Come with us, honey. We’ll go inside and talk, okay?”
Alex nodded. Colton led them to the kitchen door, eyes darting in all directions for a sign of a threat. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with Alex, but he needed to assess their surroundings because she was clearly troubled by something.
Madison led Alex to the sofa, and Colton gave her a bottle of water. After a few sips, Alex broke down in tears. Her emotions poured out as she recounted the events of an hour ago. Madison comforted her daughter while Colton cursed anything and everyone for putting his innocent child into this vicious world.
After Alex calmed down, Colton decided to go to Holder’s house. Alex claimed no one heard the shots, but he had to be sure. If there was going to be retribution by Jimmy or the surrounding neighbors, he needed to know about it now so they could plan accordingly.
“I’ll be back in a little while,” started Colton. “Alex, get some rest. Madison, please be aware that the neighbors may have seen something. Jimmy may show up here. I want you to be vigilant. Okay?”
Madison nodded, wiping away her own tears over the anguish her daughter was suffering. Then Alex stood and adjusted her holster. She picked up the handgun off the table and tucked it into her waistband.
“I’m going with you,” Alex announced.
“What? No way,” said Colton. “You’ve been through enough. I won’t be—”
“Daddy, it’s not safe for you to go alone,” said Alex. “Besides, I know my way around the house. It’ll be quicker if we go together.”
“Alex, please don’t relive this whole ordeal,” pleaded Madison.
Alex gave her mother a comforting hug. “I’ll be fine. C’mon, Daddy, let’s get this over with.”
Alex turned and exited the living room through the patio doors. Colton shrugged and kissed his wife. He whispered, “I love you,” as he pulled away. Madison stood with her arms folded as they left.
The rain had lessened somewhat as the father and daughter wound their way through the wooded trails that connected the backyards of the neighborhood. To their east, the sounds of kids playing outside and a dog barking made the world seem almost normal. But as they arrived at the Holder residence, reality set in.
Colton held his index finger to his lips, encouraging Alex to stay quiet. The two pulled their weapons and entered the den. Colton and Alex moved silently through the first floor, clearing rooms and closets like they’d practiced at home dozens of times. They made their way upstairs and continued the process until they were sure the place was empty.
“Where do you think Jimmy went?” whispered Colton.
“I don’t know, Daddy. All he had on were his boxer shorts. He may have grabbed some clothes and left. The other day, he talked about his real father in Antioch. He may have gone there.”
Colton approached the stairwell leading to the basement and listened. It was quiet. Once again, he pressed his finger to his lips, followed by an open palm advising Alex to wait upstairs for him.
She shook her head and mouthed the word no. He gave her the stern fatherly look like he meant business. She repeated no. So they both carefully descended the stairs.
Once at the bottom, Colton determined they were alone except for the dead body of Holder lying in a pool of his own blood and a bed of shiny brass ammunition. He approached the body and stepped on Holder’s hand by accident. It startled Colton, but at least he confirmed Holder was dead. He turned to Alex.
“Alex, let’s go.”
“No way, Dad. It’s our turn to finish what I started.”
Alex led her dad along the workbench, carefully avoiding the puddle of blood, which stretched six feet away from the body. She reached the back wall and found what she was looking for. She secured her weapon in her pants and reached for an AR-15 off the pegboard wall.
“This is what we need, Daddy,” started Alex. Colton holstered his Taurus and took the gun by the handle. This gun did not have a sight attached to it. “Here’s another one.”
Colton now had two of the Colt Manufacturing AR-15s strapped over his back. Alex pointed out two green military-issue ammo cans weighing twenty to thirty pounds each.
“How do you know these are the right bullets?” asked Colton.
“Jimmy told me this is the proper ammo. The cans also have extra magazines. I just need a couple more things.”
Alex rummaged around while Colton looked nervously toward the stairwell. They’d been there too long. A neighbor might show up, or Jimmy might return. Things were too unpredictable right now.
The metallic sound of ammo cans being opened and closed echoed off the walls. Alex was on a mission. Finally, she seemed satisfied and announced, “Let’s go.”
They stepped gingerly around the body. Colton contemplated burying Holder and cleaning up the mess. Then, he thought against it. If they hadn’t been discovered thus far, it would be better to stay as far away from the scene as possible.
As they climbed the stairs, Colton became fully aware that the bodies were just beginning to pile up.
Chapter 28
DAY TEN
Noon, September 18
HPA Meeting House
Trimble Rd. & Lynnwood Blvd.
Belle Meade, Tennessee
Colton held hands with Alex as they walked to the HPA meeting. Despite the cooler temperatures following the rain shower, Alex’s hands felt clammy. After yesterday’s shooting, Colton feared the neighbors would turn against him if Alex’s involvement were discovered. Attendance at the meeting gave them the opportunity see if Holder’s body had been found and to diffuse an angry reaction.
Outwardly, Alex was not struggling with her decision to shoot Holder. She justified the decision to defend herself. Justification and acceptance, however, are two different things.
Inwardly, her feelings could be suppressed. Shock, sorrow, numbness, anger, and disillusionment were all possible. Colton hoped this would pass over time, but he intended to provide her the care and support she needed to lessen the emotional impact. Ultimately, he hoped Alex’s self-reproach over the killing would become more manageable. Unfortunately, death was becoming commonplace.
Colton pulled Alex close and put his arm around her shoulder. “Are you okay, honey?” He wished the Youngs hadn’t left for 100 Oaks. Their expertise would’ve been helpful.
“Yes,” replied Alex sheepishly. She paused in thought before adding, “Daddy, what if they know it was me? What if they try to arrest me or something?”
“I don’t think that’s gonna be the case. Knowing Wren, if he had even a hint of suspicion, he would’ve been bangin’ the door down. I’ll be curious if he even brings it up.”
“Okay,” said Alex, who hesitated before continuing. “What if Jimmy is there? What should I do?”
“We’ll watch his expressions and body language,” replied Colton. “Remember one of the first rules of negotiation—assess your adversary. If he appears angry, let me deal with it. If his demeanor exudes sadness or fear, speak to him. But under no circumstances, Alex, should you leave with him. We need to be crystal clear on this.”
“Yes, Daddy,” said Alex. “I should’ve listened to you and Mom yesterday, but I didn’t. Now look.”
Colton wiped a few tears from Alex’s cheeks. He began to wonder if it was a mistake to bring her today. Colton thought Alex could calm Jimmy down if he appeared at the HPA in a hostile mood. He wanted to avoid a confrontation with the teen.
As they entered the HPA meeting, Colton immediately noticed Wren standing in the middle of the room with his wife and daughters. This was the first meeting attended by Christie and the girls. As Wren was introducing his family to the neighbors, he caught Colton’s attention and nodded upward, with a slight smile. Colton’s dislike for Wren had become so strong that he wasn’t sure if the gesture was a sign of a thaw in their chilled relationship or one of those aha-I-gotcha-now looks.
Aft
er the exchange of some pleasantries with the attendees, Wren got down to business.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming today,” started Wren with his wife and children by his side. “First, let me thank you for making Christie and the girls feel welcome. Circumstances have changed, and I feel better having them with me at all times.”
Many of the neighbors mumbled their agreement and looked around the room. Colton noticed the smaller numbers, and he was sure the others did too.
“There is a lot of news to report today, and I’m sorry to say that very little of it is good,” continued Wren. Colton heard Alex suck in her breath as she reached for his hand. “The other night, in an unfortunate accident, Gene Andrews was shot. He and his wife did their best to treat the wounds themselves, but infection set in and began to spread through his body. They attempted to walk to the new FEMA facility at 100 Oaks Mall, which, as we all know, was an annex to Vanderbilt Hospital before the collapse of the electric grid. Sadly, I’m told they never made it and Gene died before they got to Hillsboro Pike.”
“We’ll pray for his wife,” said one of the neighbors.
“Very tragic,” said another.
“The tragedies continue,” interrupted Wren. “Sometime yesterday, Adam Holder was shot and killed in his home.” Unconsciously, Colton pulled Alex into his side with his arm around her shielding her from any threats.
People in the room gasped and then the room erupted in conversation. Husbands and wives hugged one another. Mothers brought children closer to them. But Colton immediately looked around the room for Jimmy Holder. He wasn’t there.
“What about the boy?” asked one of the neighbors.
“I discovered Adam’s body yesterday afternoon,” replied Wren. “The back door was open, and there wasn’t any sign of a forced entry. Jimmy was missing. Other than Adam’s body, there was no other evidence of looting or theft.”
One of the female neighbors spoke up from the rear of the room. “Didn’t he and Jimmy have a strained relationship? His wife confided in me once about this. Apparently, Jimmy was never comfortable being adopted by Adam.”
“I’ve been told this as well,” said another neighbor.
Alex rose on her toes to whisper to Colton, but he knew what she was going to say. It was best to remain passive at this moment and allow the speculation to run its course. These neighbors were developing a narrative that placed the blame for the killing on Jimmy Holder—unwilling, troubled, adopted stepson.
“What’s done is done,” interrupted Wren. “I felt it was my obligation to look through their home, as we don’t have any active law enforcement, much less crime scene investigators. I did find some indication that Jimmy favored his real father, who lives in Antioch. Adam has mentioned to me that their relationship was troubled. At this point, there is no reason to speculate further. A couple of us removed Adam’s body and buried him in the backyard. The house is locked and secure.” Colton gave Alex a squeeze of reassurance, who immediately relaxed against him.
Wren handed his wife a printed flyer, and she gave it to a woman standing near the front. “These flyers have been circulating around the neighborhood. If you haven’t seen it, here’s the gist. FEMA and the National Guard, per the President’s martial law declaration, has begun to enforce compliance on a house-to-house basis. At this time, their efforts are concentrated to our west, where the fires have threatened homes on the other side of Belle Meade Boulevard near Highway 100.”
The flyer was passed around the room and the general reaction of most residents was to shake their heads. Colton knew what the declaration provided, and he knew what the President’s intentions were—level the playing field to make everyone equally weak, vulnerable, and dependent.
“Are you saying we should comply with this?” asked a neighbor in the front of the room.
“Not necessarily,” replied Wren. “That’s a personal decision you’ll have to make. I just wanted to give everyone a heads-up to be aware of the potential increased military activity in our neighborhood soon. If you have weapons or excess food and supplies, you might want to conceal them from discovery.”
A man in the rear of the room challenged Wren. “Shane, with all due respect, how do we know they’ll be real military?”
It was a logical question in light of the confrontation the other day between Colton and Wren. Colton decided to help out.
“You’ll know because they’re more apt to be polite—before they take your food.”
“What about this requirement that we evacuate to a FEMA camp?” asked another resident.
“Here’s what I’ve heard,” replied Wren. “When they enter your home, they will assess your conditions. If you appear too weak to sustain yourself, then you will immediately be loaded into a military transport and relocated to 100 Oaks or one of the local stadiums or shopping malls in the city.”
“Do you mean, like, a football stadium?” asked a woman in attendance with a child. “How would that work?”
“You’ll probably sleep in a FEMA tent like after Superstorm Sandy,” replied a resident standing next to her.
“You’re kidding, right?” replied the young woman.
“Nope. Do you remember all of those refugees at the Superdome in New Orleans after Katrina?” the man asked. “Within forty-eight hours, the Dome was packed with thirty thousand people with no power and not nearly enough supplies to take care of them. The only thing FEMA got right during that fiasco was the massive eighteen-wheeler refrigerated trucks used as makeshift morgues.”
The group attending the HPA meeting broke out in conversation among themselves. Colton saw the reality settling in for all of them. They were struggling to survive in their homes, but the thought of becoming a refugee scared them more. Some didn’t want to leave their homes only to die in a FEMA camp. Others argued that the government would find a way to take care of them like always.
“Okay, everybody,” started Wren. “Once again, this is a decision that you have to make that is best for you and your family. But there is something else I need to bring to your attention that might influence your options.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve had a few of you approach me about a situation taking place just to the north of us at Glen Eden Drive and Hobbs Road,” replied Wren. “Apparently, there is a well-organized group of criminals going street to street and looting. They are very methodical, and their procedures leave no doubt about their penchant for ruthlessness. It is a potentially dangerous situation for all of us if they are moving this way.”
Once again, more murmurs flared up between the neighbors. Colton heard one man exclaim, “I’m outta here,” as he left the building. Most of the residents questioned why the National Guard didn’t do something.
Wren continued. “I need a couple of you folks who live on the north end of the neighborhood to scout their activities and report back to me at my home as soon as possible. We need to ascertain their intentions. If they are moving in an organized fashion toward us, we’ll face a dangerous situation very soon.”
Wren finished up the meeting by recruiting his scouts and saying goodbye to a few residents who said they were going to the FEMA camps after hearing today’s update. Colton took Alex by the hand and began to lead her out of the HPA house when he heard Wren’s voice.
“Mr. Ryman, may I speak with you before you leave?” asked Wren.
Mr. Ryman? Oh boy, here we go.
Chapter 29
DAY TEN
4:00 p.m., September 18
Ryman Residence
Nashville, Tennessee
“I don’t trust him,” said Madison forcefully as Colton tried to explain Wren’s attempt at extending the proverbial olive branch. Following the HPA meeting earlier, Wren apologized for getting off on the wrong foot with Colton and his entire family. He even used his wife and children to warm up to Alex. Alex responded favorably to the gesture and was unaware of the obvious ploy employed by Wren to soften the tensions bet
ween the two families. However, on the walk home from the HPA meeting, Alex’s spirits were lifted considerably. That was a good thing.
“Maddie, I agree that we have to take baby steps with him,” said Colton. “But, I genuinely believe he’s scared. I’m sure he knows why Andrews was shot. He probably also knows Holder was with Andrews that night.” Colton took a long drink of water before continuing.
“Holder’s death is another matter. I’m sure he blames Jimmy, although he might believe I’m involved with his death after our confrontation at the HPA meeting the other day. He may be afraid of me. Who knows? Regardless, his sidekicks who gave him strength are gone now.”
“But why you?” asked Madison, exhibiting some fear in her voice, which explained her hostile attitude toward the proposed unholy alliance with Wren. Notwithstanding the fact that the Ryman family was directly responsible for the deaths of Wren’s collaborators, joining the HPA leadership team seemed to be a death wish.
“Why not me?” asked Colton. “Why not keep our friends close, but our enemies closer. Also, we are facing a number of threats to our neighborhood now. Despite the rain, as you can tell by the smell of smoke, the fires are still burning to our west. As the winds pick up, they’ll continue to head our way.”
The Rymans, sitting on the front steps together, were momentarily distracted by a group of people walking in the middle of the street. Pushing everything from baby strollers to shopping carts, the people appeared lethargic and disoriented. The refugees, who seemed to be headed for 100 Oaks, didn’t make the effort to look in the Rymans’ direction.
After seventy-two hours, the human body entered into a phase in which it started to break down protein in muscles. The brain needed energy to function, so it sought out glucose from the body. The muscles broke down further in order to feed the brain. This process began to accelerate, zapping the average human being of energy and weakening their immune systems.
