The Systemic Series - Box Set

by K. W. Callahan

  The windshield was starting to smear with frozen sludge that the window wipers wouldn’t remove. I flipped on the front and rear defrosters to help clear my view. After a few minutes, I turned on the rear window wiper and looked up into the rear view mirror to watch it slide a thin layer of slushy ice off to one side, giving me a better view of Dad’s SUV following about 50 yards behind ours. It was almost as though it was a sign for what happened next. As we rounded a right-hand curve in the highway, I saw the rear of Dad’s SUV step out to the left. He appeared to catch the slide as the back of the vehicle swung back in line, but just for a split second before the front tires bit and his overcorrection swung the vehicle sharply to the left. I could see Dad react behind the wheel and then the vehicle’s tires turn hard to the right, but it was too late. The SUV’s momentum continued carrying it to the left and it careened down into the center of the divided highway.

  I immediately lifted my foot from the gas, applying it gradually to the break, allowing the upward grade of the road to do most of the work in slowing our momentum. I pulled over to the left shoulder, removing our vehicle entirely from the highway more out of habit than out of concern for other traffic since there was none to speak of. Will and Ray beat me to the scene since they had been following Dad. They were already in the process of helping passengers from the vehicle.

  As I arrived on the scene, I was relieved to find that everyone appeared uninjured. Mom and Dad were a little shaken up, and Shane was crying. Joanna and Janet seemed almost unfazed.

  Dad was standing beside the front of the SUV, rubbing his wrist.

  “You okay, Dad?” I called, as I slipped and slid my way down the embankment that led to the divided highway’s center drainage area. There was probably a ten foot drop in elevation from the edge of the highway to the bottom of the median.

  “Jammed my wrist on the steering wheel when we hit the bottom of the ditch. Other than that, I think I’m okay.”

  “What about everyone else?” I asked.

  “Just a little shaken up, I think,” he said.

  I angled around him to inspect the front of their SUV. It had dug into the earth that comprised the rise leading to the other side of the highway. The left front tire was flat and there was steam pouring from under the hood. It didn’t look good. Add to this the fact that without a tow truck, there was no way we were going to be able to extract this large and rather bulky vehicle from where it had come to rest, and I immediately began considering our alternatives, of which there weren’t many.

  “Looks like your ride is shot, Dad,” Will said.

  “Shane, Janet and Joanna can ride with you in your van, Will,” I said. We’ll take Mom and Dad in ours. It’s going to be a tight squeeze with all the supplies. We’ll probably have to put a couple kids on laps. It’s going to make things snuggly and we’re really going to have to take it slow in these conditions. Make sure everyone has seatbelts on if at all possible, even if they’re on laps. It won’t be perfect, but it’s better than nothing. Ray, Joanna, Janet; will you give me a hand unloading the supplies from Mom and Dad’s car and splitting them up between the other two? We’ll have to secure most of it to the roof racks since we will be carrying additional passengers inside. I’ll grab Claire and Sharron and we can make a sort of fire brigade up the embankment to keep slippery trips up and down to a minimum.”

  I gave our crew a few minutes to don warmer clothing and then we started the process of getting anything of use out of my parents’ SUV and into the remaining two. It took us about an hour to bag up the stuff and strap it to the tops of our cars, which in the freezing rain, wasn’t exactly a fun task. Then we siphoned the gas out of Dad’s tank and split it between our two remaining vehicles. Finally, with all this done, we got everyone squeezed into seats and strapped in as best as possible. It took quite a bit of wiggling and maneuvering, but we managed. We had to ditch any car seats for the kids, which seemed to bother the newer parents more than the grandparents. This led to stories from Mom and Dad about how Will and I used to sit on stacks of phone books or piles of pillows and blankets when we were kids, often without wearing seatbelts at all. This did little to comfort the younger generation’s concerns, but at this point, our options were limited. In an effort to reduce discomfort, bigger kids sat on the bigger adults – Ray got Paul for example, while Claire’s mother Emily got little Jason. Still, I knew we couldn’t go much further packed together like sardines, and the weather certainly wasn’t cooperating. By the time we got ready to move again, there was a thick coating of ice on our windshields which took another ten minutes to chisel through with window scrapers.

  While we were working together on my SUV’s front windshield, Ray said, “I met a guy at a conference in Nashville before I joined the FBI, back when I was still working in healthcare. We went out for a few drinks one night after the meetings had ended and we had a pretty good time. We kept in touch after the conference and he invited me down for a visit to his home about a year later. He had a really nice place out this way, not far from here. I think he invited me more to show off his fancy digs than anything. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it earlier. It’s kind of a secluded place. Who knows, he might even let us stay for a night or two until the weather passes…if he’s still there that is.”

  I shrugged, “We could give it a shot. I’m not sure how much farther we’ll make it in these conditions anyway, and we’ll probably need to find a place to stop soon. I’ll let you lead the way. You remember how to get there?”

  “I think so,” Ray nodded. “Let me look at your map and I can probably figure it out.”

  After a couple more minutes spent studying the road atlas with Ray and Will, we were cautiously on our way again.

  CHAPTER 9

  EASTERN TENNESSEE

  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine myself pulling up to a place like the one that Ray had led us to. But while it may have been one of the most magnificent homes I’d ever approached, I did so with caution.

  The home, if you could call it that – I’d call it a mansion, or maybe even a castle – sat atop a picturesque mountaintop. To reach the home though, we first had to get through the closed entry gate. It took Ray, Dad, Will, and I about 10 minutes with pry bars to force it off its tracks and open wide enough to drive our vehicles through, sliding it closed behind us once we were done. We then spun and skidded our way up a nearly two-mile, ice-covered winding asphalt road that led up the thickly-wooded mountain side. About half-way up, we crossed a small bridge that gapped a swiftly flowing mountain stream.

  The whole time, I was watching for potential booby-traps. I figured anyone rich enough to live in such a place might also be rich enough to have held out in secluded post-flu luxury. And they might and have developed some deadly deterrents to outsiders invading their remote holdout.

  However, we made it to the end of the entry road without incident. And as the tree cover broke and we followed the drive out into the open, it was revealed that the freezing rain had changed to snow at these higher altitudes. Its gently falling flakes left a dusty white blanket across the ground, which nearly obscured the driveway but couldn’t hide the massive stone structure that loomed before us.

  I had to admit, it was a beautiful home, maybe the most beautiful home I’d ever seen, and was certainly placed in one hell of a picturesque setting. I found it difficult to imagine that any one family could have a need for such an enormous estate. It was their own private castle.

  What I call a “castle” wasn’t a castle in the typical medieval sense of the word. There weren’t turrets, moats, and drawbridges. But the place was gigantic and built entirely of stone. The home was three stories with a peaked slate roof, several large brick chimneys, and an arched front doorway with a massive steel-belted wood door. There were bright copper gutters running along the roofline and down the home’s dark gray exterior. A large patio jutted from the second floor on one side of the home, and a seven-foot stone wall started from that same corner o
f the home, running a continuous 100 feet or so – only broken by a single doorway in its center – to where it eventually connected with a four-car garage of similar architectural design as the home.

  The formidable structure looked like a fortress, and I immediately fell in love with it.

  At first glance, I’d say the place was at least 8,000 square feet, but it could have been more. A basement or finished attic might easily add another 3,000 square feet of livable space. One of the other things that I noticed on first inspection, and that I liked about the home, was that the first-floor windows were set up higher, almost in line with the top of the stone wall that connected with the garage. This meant that there was about a seven-foot gap between the ground and the lowest part of the first-floor windows. It was an attractive feature of the home for the obvious security benefits it provided.

  We pulled up and parked directly in line with the front door. Were there anyone home, I guessed that Ray figured our direct approach would indicate that we were friendly and not trying to disguise our presence.

  I hoped the tactic would pay off.

  As I scanned our surroundings for signs of inhabitance, I didn’t see any tracks – human, vehicle or otherwise – in the snow; and in the late-afternoon light, I didn’t see any signs of movement or life inside the home or anywhere on the grounds. Maybe one of the most important tells regarding the possibility of residents inside the home was the lack of smoke issuing from any of the chimneys, which I would have considered a dead giveaway of someone living inside the structure.

  I got out of our SUV and walked up to Will’s van in front of us. The driver-side window was down.

  “Pretty snazzy digs, huh?” Ray grinned at me.

  “Not too shabby, that’s for sure,” I agreed.

  “I thought you might like it,” Ray nodded. “Why don’t you guys come with me and see if anyone’s home? If the place is empty, we’ll look for a way in.”

  “Sure,” I nodded. “Just give me a second to get my gun.”

  I walked back to our SUV. “Dad, how’s that wrist?” I asked as I opened the back cargo area to find my rifle.

  “Oh, a little sore, but not too bad,” he said, rubbing and inspecting the affected area.

  “You up to coming with us to inspect the house?”

  “Certainly,” he said without hesitation.

  I figured his ego was probably a little bruised after the car accident and he was eager to prove himself useful again.

  We quickly got ourselves organized. Ray took a shotgun, Will had his automatic rifle, Dad a .45, and me, my .22 rifle complete with a full 30-round clip. We each took an extra clip along just to be on the safe side. We’d been doing well portioning out rounds when hunting, but the fire-fight back at our camp in southern Illinois had sopped up a lot of our extra ammunition.

  We left Claire with my .44. Joanna got a .38 special, and Sharron a .22 handgun, both of which we’d picked up after the firefight at camp back in southern Illinois. We figured handguns would make for ease of maneuverability from within the vehicles if necessary.

  We exchanged kisses with the wives and kids before departing, which was now the norm after what had happened back in southern Illinois. The extreme violence and suddenness with which we’d lost Brian and Steve had opened all of our eyes to just how precious – as well as how delicate – life was in our new world.

  It was extremely slippery on any paved areas, so we carefully made our way up the eight steps concrete that led to the front door. We knocked loudly, calling out greetings, and then tried the door. It was locked of course. From there, Ray led us around to and through the door in the home’s connecting stone wall. Behind the wall we found a garden area that sat between the garage and main house and that was enclosed by the same style seven-foot-high stone wall at the rear of the home. Forming the right side of the garden enclosure was the garage, and to our left, the house. A large, second-story balcony protruded from this side of the home. Under it was a raised side porch, ringed with wrought-iron railings and French doors that led inside. They were multi-paneled glass doors, and upon finding them locked, it only took breaking one of the small glass panels with the butt of my rifle to then be able to reach inside and unlock them.

  We entered into what appeared to be a large mudroom/sunroom. We paused just inside to listen. Hearing nothing, I closed the French doors behind us and we all flipped on flashlights.

  “HELLO!” I called out loudly. My voice echoed in the mudroom and then melted into the inestimable square footage that lay before us.

  We waited, listening, then cautiously moved forward. At the far side of the mudroom, and to our right, was a hallway. The hallway led us straight ahead and into the lavishly appointed kitchen. Modern stainless steel appliances were overshadowed by dark walnut cabinets, white marble countertops, and a beautifully mosaic-tiled floor. While there were windows in the room, the gray sky and quickly falling darkness outside did little to add to our ambient lighting. Even in the faded light though, you could tell that the kitchen was a thing of beauty, and amazingly, still clean. Unlike many of the other places we had stopped along our route thus far, there seemed almost to be a scent of freshness in the air. Either the people who had lived here had never used the place or they were just amazingly neat. Either way, it was a nice change from the stenches we’d become accustomed to suffering through in places where food had been stored and then left to decay without the assistance of refrigeration units to keep it fresh.

  The kitchen area had to be at least 1000 square feet. It was probably the biggest private kitchen I’d ever seen. As we shined our lights around the space, I could see that in the center of the kitchen was a large island with raised counter. Bar stools ringed the island and a wine refrigerator fit snugly into its center base on one side.

  On the far right side of the kitchen, toward the rear of the home and at the end of a three-basin sink and enough counter space for three of us men to lay head-to-toe, was a restaurant-style booth set beside a large bay window. A massive, commercial-style eight-burner stove and double oven with stainless steel prep-table beside it encompassed the wall butting up against the mudroom through which we’d entered. I could only imagine all the other amazing features of this lovely culinary campus that I was missing in the fading light, but it wasn’t the time for drooling over details.

  “This place is huge,” Will breathed.

  “Yeah…let’s split up,” I said. “Dad and I can finish up down here. You and Ray want to take the upstairs?”

  “Sure,” they whispered in awed unison.

  “Let’s meet back here in five minutes, okay?”

  Everyone checked watches and agreed.

  “And be careful. I don’t think anyone is here, but we can’t be sure.”

  Dad and I moved from the kitchen to our left and into a dining room facing the front of the home and that came complete with a table large enough to easily seat 20 people or more. A massive glass chandelier hung above its center. Portraits framed the walls, except for a portion of the front wall that was comprised of a massive picture window that I guessed typically revealed breathtaking mountain views of the terrain outside, although we couldn’t see much of anything with the current weather.

  Will and Ray accompanied us in this initial phase of our search before they headed for the upper levels of the home. As we exited the dining room, we entered into the massive foyer area into which the front door opened. The space encompassed a giant sweeping staircase that wound its way up two more floors. Through the open center of the staircase hung a multi-story chandelier, the frame of which appeared to be constructed of iron and which I guessed probably weighed a ton or more.

  In the center of the entry area was a massive stone table atop which sat an enormous vase that was filled with now drooping and dried flowers. Much of the stone floors, which appeared in the darkness to be travertine, were obscured by ornate Oriental rugs.

  After waiting for a minute so that Ray could strap his flash
light to his shotgun, and then help me do the same with my .22 to make it easier for us to maneuver in the darkness, we split up.

  It didn’t take long for me and Dad to realize that nobody was downstairs. It took us just a few minutes to explore the home’s huge library, the plush office and attached half bath, a classy – and by the looks of it, rarely used – family room, and even a small greenhouse that was accessible through sliding glass doors at the rear of the home. Dad and I both found ourselves in awe of the fabulous furnishings and décor that we encountered at almost every turn.

  After several minutes, we met back up with Will and Ray in the entry area.

  “Man, this place is ridiculous,” Will said. “No one’s upstairs, and it’s clean as a whistle too. Only the master bed and one other bedroom look like they ever got used. It’s like a freaking endless palace up there…at least seven bedrooms and I don’t know how many bathrooms. Then there’s another floor above that with more bedrooms and like a play room or craft room or something.”

  “Pretty wild if you ask me,” said Dad. “Don’t see how anyone could ever use this much space. But, to each his own.”

  “I think it’s amazing,” I said. “A tad over the top. But if you’ve got the money, I guess you have to do something with it,” I shrugged.

  “We should get back to the vehicles,” Ray said. “It’s getting dark out and we’ve got some unloading to do.”

  “Let’s bring our stuff in through the front door. Then we can stash the cars in the garage. With the snow still falling, hopefully our tracks will be covered by morning,” I said, trying to break from the spell this castle had cast upon me and remind myself of the reality of our situation.

  It didn’t take us long to get things inside and start setting up camp. We left most of our stuff in the entry foyer and decided to sleep in the family room for the night. We decided we could spread out and explore more tomorrow.

  “I saw a woodpile out by the garage,” Will said. “Janet, will you take Paul and Sarah and bring in some wood. We can build a nice fire to help keep us warm tonight.”