by LC Champlin
“They’re not going to be stupid like these dumbasses, right?” Kennedy turned a sneer of disgust on the rubble heaps.
“Not if I can help it.” Albin would not survive his next attempt to corrupt Nathan’s allies. I’ll make sure of it.
Sarge’s convoy met Nathan as he headed back across the bridge to the southern shore. They took Redwood Shores Parkway to Marlin Drive, rumbling into the heart of the community and the seat of power.
When Nathan stepped out on Anchor Circle, the neighborhood’s central street, Amanda pulled up in her Genesis. She and Josephine exited.
The reporter’s eyes narrowed when she spotted Sarge’s Ford, but she said nothing.
“Whose truck is that?” Amanda asked.
Nathan raised a hand. “I’ll explain as soon as more people arrive.”
The Ford’s door opened and Sarge stepped out, M4 across his chest. Every bit as intimidating as when he’d entered Redwood Shores to demand their fealty, he glared about at the residents. “This is it, huh? You fuckers paid way too much for these houses, you know that?”
Chapter 66
By Hook or by Crook
Come With Me Now - Kongos
“Nathan,” Amanda hissed, seizing his arm in growing anger, “this is the Red Devil Goats’ second in command. He had people kidnapped!”
“I’m aware, Amanda.” Nathan put a reassuring hand on her hand as he extricated himself. “I’m not happy about it either.” Wary but accepting described his feelings better. “He’s not working with Red Chief anymore. Sarge is a mercenary; he works for whoever pays him. I know he doesn’t have any morals, but he’s on our side now. They have weapons, ammunition, vehicles, training. The things that made them formidable enemies also make them invaluable allies. I’m not going to look a gift horse.”
“Bulls.” Sarge sniffed. “We’re the Bulls.”
“Like the basketball team?” Josephine blurted.
A growl from Sarge answered.
“It’s only temporary, Josephine.” Nathan didn’t need the reporter and the hulk arguing.
Amanda leaned closer to Nathan to whisper, “What are we paying him?”
“I’ll explain in a moment.”
Machiavelli knew of what he spoke when he said hiring mercenaries would lead to ruin. But he’d never faced a plague that turned its victims into cannibals, nor had he experience with an apathetic government that possessed powers the Medicis could only dream of.
His face slipping into its characteristic glower, Sarge looked between Nathan and the women. Then he turned to the residents who gathered like bystanders at the scene of an accident. “We’re guarding the entrance to Redwood Shores, but that doesn’t mean you can stop defending yourselves. We’re not the cops.”
“I know we’ve had some disagreements with these people in the past,” Nathan began.
“Disagreements?” someone shouted from the crowd. “They kidnapped a bunch of us!”
Sarge stepped forward; the Redwooders took a collective step back, a flock of butterflies before the wind. Or sheep before a sheepdog. “You got a couple choices here. You can either be appreciative, or you can fuck yourselves over. Believe me, you want us guarding your asses.”
“Why are you helping us?” one of the group demanded.
“Because I’m paid. Ask your fearless leader about it. Don’t push me, though. You don’t want your guard dog to start growling at you.”
The lummox would lose the day yet! Nathan raised his hands for attention—unnecessary, given that everyone already stared at him. “We’re going to offer them shelter, which means we don’t call attention to them with the authorities—”
“Didn’t they tell us to evacuate?” A woman—shit, Chas’s mother.
“I see no reason to, since the cannibals were dealt with and Sarge will be watching the parkway.”
The people around her nodded, unwilling to leave their homes to embark into the unknown.
Nathan continued, “We’re also going to give them a third of what we find on scavenging trips. In return, they protect us and give us a third of what they find. It’s a temporary agreement. Think of it as symbiosis. It’s not ideal, but it prevents us from being invaded by more gangs like the ones who kidnapped Zander and Jeremy. They can also help keep us from becoming like Northern Redwood Shores.”
The audience members looked everywhere but at him when he spoke the last sentence. Seeing the destruction of their neighbors, even if they didn’t know them by name and held no real love for them, rattled their naïve worlds.
“Now he brings murderers and kidnappers into our midst!” Mrs. Wong’s screech sliced through the murmuring. “Get those criminals out of our neighborhood. We are not harboring them.” She emerged from the crowd like an ankle-biter dog. “You are going too far this time.”
Another crisis arrived. Excellent. “I’m going too far?” Nathan folded his arms, shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He turned to Josephine. “Do you have it?”
She nodded. “Here.” She produced a tablet from her shoulder satchel.
“Very good. Let’s see who’s to blame for what happened across the channel.” He met the gazes of the lead crowd members, ending at Mrs. Wong.
While Jo queued the video, the Redwooders began to chatter. She dragged the slider to a time roughly an hour before the cannibal attack on the north shore. Onscreen, a woman of middle height with dark, shoulder-length hair and the physique of a personal trainer emerged from the rear of the self-storage facility’s office. After looking about, she crept up behind the customer-service counter. A moment of searching produced a DVD-player-sized box, a coil of coaxial cable, and a yard-long radio antenna. The frequency generator. She tucked it under her jacket as she disappeared into the office’s rear.
“You.” Controlling his excitement, Nathan whirled to point a finger at the woman from the video. She stood with Mrs. Wong. Panic flickered over the perpetrator’s face. “I didn’t do—”
“You didn’t? Then where is the box?”
“I was just trying to help us.” Finger at Wong. “She told me to do it!”
“Idiot!” Wong rounded on her. “I never said to use it.”
“But you said to turn it on—”
“You killed those people!” Wong screeched. Convenient upbraiding stopped the admission of guilt.
“You heard them,” Nathan remarked to the crowd. “What should we do?”
“Exile!” a male in the middle of the group bawled.
“Kill her!” Chas’s mother pushed to the fore with primeval maternal ferocity.
“You can’t hold me responsible for another person’s action,” Wong cut back. “She was the one who turned it on.”
“Get over on your side,” yelled the man who suggested exile.
“Give her to the cannibals!” The bloodthirsty mother received cheers at this.
As Nathan remained silent, the cheers grew to a chant: “Cann-i-bals! Cann-i-bals!”
Never let a crisis go to waste. “Enough!” he roared as Amanda gaped in shock and Josephine filmed with her phone. “Shut up!”
The chant faltered, died.
“The evidence is convincing, and this woman”—pointing to the thief—“admits that she used the box at Mrs. Wong’s orders. But we don’t have police to arrest them, a jail to hold them, or a court to convict them.”
“Are we supposed to let them just walk away?” cried Chas’s mother. “They caused a whole neighborhood to die!”
Correction: Wong and Albin. “This isn’t a dictatorship. I can’t mandate what to do with them.” Hence the need for this farce. “I suggest you exile them to their island on the end of Marlin Drive. When the government gets the situation more under control, it can deal with them.” Glowers met him. “However, they did commit a horrible, depraved act.” Pause to eye the two criminals, who stood back to back at the center of the mob. “You the people must decide what to do.” Not quite a l
aver to wash his hands in, but the appeal to democracy would suffice. Whatever They the People chose, it would solve the Wong problem.
Murmuring dispelled the hush. Voices rose, restless as the sea before a hurricane.
“Exile them!” yelled the man who’d first suggested it.
“That sounds like a wise idea,” Nathan agreed, giving the crowd a nod. “Mrs. Wong.” He turned to the women. “If you’re caught in our neighborhood again, I won’t be responsible for what happens to you.”
Chapter 67
Sit-Down
Put Your Lights On - Santana
The scapegoats scrambled for their vehicles, with the mob hurling profanities and anything that came to hand. Despite the Californians’ staunch disapproval of the death penalty, a considerable number of the crowd supported killing the perpetrators.
One problem largely solved. So many more to go. How easily one accepted the idea of returning to draconian punishments for wrongdoers. But order must reign, and Nathan must ensure it did so.
He turned to Sarge, who had watched the proceedings with all the emotion of a snake in torpor. “Sarge, it’s time we had a chat.”
The big man looked down at him but remained silent.
“Come.” Nathan headed for the Musters’ house.
Amanda swung in beside him, casting wary glances over her shoulder at Sarge, who trailed. “Are you sure this is a good idea after everything he’s done?” Her face flushed.
Josephine trotted over from the crowd as it dispersed, coming abreast of Nathan. “He’s not staying here in our neighborhood, is he?” She glared back at the mercenary. “We can’t trust him.”
“I agree with both of you, but we don’t have a cornucopia of options. But he’s a mercenary. Payment is what he’s after.”
“Isn’t this why there’s something about not quartering soldiers in the Declaration of Independence?” Amanda asked.
“It’s the Third Amendment of the Constitution, actually.” Ignorant Californians. “It won’t be in our houses. There are plenty of unoccupied residences and businesses. They’ll stay near the freeway.”
“I don’t like it.” She shook her head. “And I can’t believe you made this deal without at least telling me first.”
Better to explain than ask for permission. “Would you have said no to him?”
“Well . . .” She looked away.
Expression cold, Jo grunted. “Me either. That doesn’t make him any less of a threat, though.”
“Our safety is paramount.” People would trade anything for safety. “And right now, we can buy off his danger, whereas we can’t buy off the cannibals.”
Nathan shouldered into the Musters’ house, where he took a seat at the dining room table. Sarge followed. He pulled out a chair, flipped it around, then dropped into it. Amanda stood at Nathan’s right, leaning her thigh against the table, while Josephine guarded his left, radiating disapproval.
“Sarge,” Nathan began, “I know you have more resources than you’re revealing. If we’re going to work together, we need to get on the same page about them. You know our resources and are using them, after all.”
Sarge snorted. “What do you want to know?”
“I already know you have weapons, armor, and vehicles. It’s your contact network that I’m primarily interested in. Do you know of any gangs in the area? You contracted one to kidnap Jeremy and his son.” Level stare.
“Red did. I know a few, but I can’t promise they’re still alive, or that they’ll work with us.”
“Fair enough. And what about knowledge of the area?”
“Oakland’s home. This yuppie hole isn’t our style.”
“Yet you’re here,” Amanda snapped.
Sarge didn’t bother looking in her direction. “What are you going to do with Foster City?”
Nathan glanced at Amanda. “We’re here to help them. They lack leadership.”
Understanding flashed in Sarge’s eyes. “It’s time we went and found some supplies, then. I wouldn’t want these people to go hungry.”
“The sooner the better. It’s not going to be long before we’re out of food.”
“Sarge, if that’s what they’re calling you,” Amanda began, pushing away from the table and crossing her arms, “you can understand how we feel about having armed mercenaries around, especially ones who kidnapped some of us.”
Head to one side, Sarge curled his lip. “We don’t have any interest in dragging your asses off. Right now, you’re more useful as happy little citizens under the government’s protection. Your friend Serebus thinks he has a way to control the cannibals. If he does, I want to be on his side. If he doesn’t, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“And we’re supposed to trust you?” Jo demanded.
“No. You’re supposed to shut up and stay out of our way. Got it?”
Eyes narrowing, she opened her mouth to invite trouble.
“It appears we have a game plan,” Nathan concluded as if wrapping up a congenial business meeting. “You’ll go on a salvage run as soon as possible, keeping two-thirds of what you find.”
“Just remember your end. I don’t stand for betrayal.”
“Of course.” Hypocrite.
++++++++++++
Albin watched the drone footage of Redwood Shores’s northern bank for the ninth time. It remained as mysterious as it had at the first viewing. “I cannot fathom why cannibals would attack in such numbers.”
Bridges shrugged. “Who knows? They don’t seem to have a rhyme or reason. Maybe people were making a lot of noise.”
“We need to go over there,” Kuznetsov put in, hugging himself as he stared at the screen. “But there’s no way we can reach it without Mr. Serebus’s side seeing us. I’m sure they’re already investigating it.”
“I don’t want to sound cold,” Bridges began, displaying his characteristic wince, “but why exactly do we have to go over there?”
“Because,” the Russian replied before Albin could speak, “there might be people trapped in the rubble.”
Shaking his head, Bridges rolled his eyes. “We don’t have manpower to help them. If there were survivors, Nathan’s people probably took them.”
Albin turned from the footage, as it failed to provide assistance. “We may be able to discover an explanation for the attack, or locate witnesses Mr. Serebus’s people missed.”
Teeth bared, Bridges gave his head a violent shake. “I know Nathan’s behind this somehow. It’s too convenient. I don’t know why the government showed up, but I’m sure he was behind that too.”
“Perhaps.” Or perhaps the military acted inappropriately on the intelligence Albin had provided them. The attorney clasped his hands behind his back, looking out the window. Scattered cannibals wandered about but showed no intent in their actions. Overhead, a murder of crows passed. “He would approve of what transpired, but I am unsure if he was the author of the destruction. We will investigate tonight, under cover of darkness.”
“I hope they can last that long,” Kuznetsov murmured.
Chapter 68
Lay-Down
Country Song - Seether
Arms folded, Nathan leaned against the trunk of a tree in Marlin Park. Before him practiced the combatives class. The instructors taught the pacifistic population the techniques that would serve them best for the situation at hand. No tornado roundhouse kicks. No Jackie Chan stunts. Thus they now practiced with staves, stand-ins for spears.
Thankfully, one of the residents was a history buff, and his interest extended to the military tactics of the Middle Ages. While Nathan remembered a number of troop formations from watching documentaries, and could put others together by reasoning what tactics the cannibals would use, the books still came in handy.
Among the group practiced the six teens who had attempted the supply trip earlier. They looked determined, evidently taking to heart the advice to imagine every move as destr
oying an enemy rather than beating the air.
Beepbeepbeep!
Nathan jumped. Ribs protested. “Ah, fff.”
Beepbeepbeep!
He pulled the phone from its place at the back of his belt. The number belonged to Lexa, or at least to her phone.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He had yet to receive her files, so surely she wouldn’t call on him to fulfill his nebulous end of their bargain yet.
“Nathan, I need to speak with you. Are you in a private place?”
“I am.” He meandered toward the beach as he spoke. Across the channel, the ruins of North Redwood Shores smoked.
“Good. I have to warn you of an attempt by the government to control the cannibals.”
His pulse rose. “Do tell.”
“They are preparing to conduct a lay-down of chemicals, which means—”
“Aircraft will be spraying powder over the neighborhood like crop dusters, correct?” Fuck, what were they using? Agent Orange? Something worse?
“Precisely. The company that I work for has provided the chemicals. The formulation requires only a small amount be dispersed.”
“What does it do?”
“In humans, it shouldn’t cause any severe reactions or symptoms. To cannibals, it should reset their neural nets, making them amenable to reprogramming.”
“One moment. You said shouldn’t. Does that imply you’re not certain?”
“In testing, it produced no ill effects other than mild cold- and flu-like symptoms in some of the subjects.”
How reassuring. “Were the subjects human?”
“Of course. Human testing is required for any drug before the FDA approves it.”
“This is a drug, then?”
“No.”
Then what the fuck did she talk about? “If this will make the nets reprogrammable, that implies the government or your company is going to attempt to reprogram them.” Had the government used the files he gave them? More likely, LOGOS tricked or bribed them to help. “I assume they intend to use frequencies as they did before?”
