Bad Moon on the Rise (Soldiers of New Eden Book 3)

by T. L. Knighton

  "Seriously," Scott said, pulling him from his thoughts, "if you need me, let me know. You know I've got your back, right?"

  Jason nodded. "Absolutely. You'll be the first door I knock on."

  "Bullshit," he said. "It'll be Rick, then Billy. Maybe the new investigator. She looks familiar, by the way."

  "She should. You helped pull her out of Conklin's dungeon."

  "Megan?" he asked, his eyes wide. "Damn. Didn't recognize her without all the bruising."

  Nodding, Jason said, "Well, bruises don't last that long," he said, then patted his friends bulging stomach. "Donuts, on the other hand…"

  "You really want to test that thing about you being able to kick my ass, don't you?" Scott said.

  Jason smiled and stood. "Come on. I'll buy you something to eat. Pad that gut up a bit."

  ** ** **

  The warm wood tones of Tabby's felt good to Jason after navigating his way through the pouring rain outside. The bottom dropped out about half way here, so he and Scott were both soaked to the bone.

  Tabitha smiled at Jason. "You're not going to dent my bar again, are you?"

  Jason smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

  "Don't sweat it. Just busting your balls," she said, he smile broadening.

  "Have you met Scott?" Jason asked.

  Tabitha looked to the round man. "Nope. But sounds like a hell of a time to fix that though."

  Scott held out his hand. "Scott Latham. HVAC extraordinaire."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Then you and I need to talk. I'm Tabitha Halsey."

  "A pleasure," Scott said.

  "So," she said, shifting her attention back to Jason, "what can I get for you?"

  "Beef with Broccoli?" Jason asked, hopefully.

  Tabitha laughed. "You're really hung up on that stuff, aren't you?

  He shrugged. "If Donna hadn't told me she could make it…"

  "Fair point. Scott?"

  Jason spoke up, "Dude, you've got to try it. Best I've had since House of China II."

  Scott's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

  Jason nodded.

  "Then grab me one too," he said as he took a stool.

  Tabitha smiled. "You're going to tell the whole town about that, aren't you?"

  Jason nodded. "If she didn't make it so well, I wouldn't say anything to anyone. So really, when you think about it, it's all her fault."

  "Oh, I'm sure she'll think of it the same way," she said with a laugh.

  "She likes making it, and you know it," Jason fired back.

  Tabitha shrugged. "Too late now, isn't it?" she asked.

  She walked off. A short time later, she brought two plates of beef, mixed with broccoli, carrots, snow peas, all in a brown sauce. A pile of fried rice sat beside it on the plate. Jason's mouth watered at the smell. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he said.

  Scott shoveled a forkful into his mouth, then closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. "Oh yeah, that's good."

  Jason, with a mouthful of his own, simply nodded.

  "Glad to see you two hard at work," a booming voice called from behind.

  Jason turned to face the large, black man behind him. Light gleamed off his bald head as he glowered at the two men. "Man's got to eat. You got a problem with that?"

  "Yeah, I do…mostly because I'm hungry."

  "Then pull up a stool and eat something, you big idiot."

  The big man smiled. "Don't mind if I do, boss."

  Tabitha walked over to his seat. "Good to see you, Billy. What can I get you?"

  "Just a burger, if you can. Not all that hungry," the large man said. "My boss over here will probably expect me to get back to work."

  Jason shrugged as he said, "Well, eventually."

  Billy smiled. "Got everything hooked up?"

  Jason nodded. "The cooling breath of the gods descended from heaven upon me."

  "You could have just said, 'Yep. It works.'"

  Scott laughed. "More like he should have."

  "I hate heat. I hate cold. Had too much of both in the last twelve years," Jason fired back an instant before shoveling another mouthful of food into his mouth.

  His two friends laughed. "Yeah, I guess we all have," Billy offered.

  Scott shook his head. "Not me. I knew how to fix that. Plus, we still had power."

  "Rub it in," Jason quipped a moment after swallowing.

  "By the way, I need to tell you that Investigator Hernandez wanted to see you when you got a chance."

  Jason nodded, then turned his focus back to his food. He might be gaining in ways he wasn't crazy about, but he wasn't sure he was ready to give up his favorite dish. He had over a decade of making up to do.

  ** ** **

  Jason patted his stomach as he stepped out of Tabby's. The sun's nightly retreat beyond the horizon had begun, but not so much as to rob the sky of light. He turned to walk toward the Ranger garrison, winding his way through the long familiar labyrinth of houses and buildings.

  As he neared a corner, voices drifted through the evening air.

  "I don't believe it," one of the voices said. It was vaguely familiar to Jason, but he couldn't place it. Too many people had moved into town in the last couple of years for him to keep them all straight.

  "He did," responded another. This one, he recognized almost immediately. "He actually admitted it. These guys show up because of that whole story about him."

  Jason rounded the corner. "Norman," he said, walking by and savoring the look of terror on the older man's face.

  After about a mile more, he found himself outside of the log cabin-like structure that was the Ranger garrison. Each log had been hewed into a uniform square shape, then overlapped like the cabins people were so familiar with. The building stood two stories with stone chimneys on either end of the building.

  Jason knocked on the door for the investigator's apartment.

  After a few moments, the door opened and revealed Megan. "Hey," she said with a smile.

  He smiled back. "Hey. Heard you wanted to see me?"

  She nodded. "Come on in."

  He looked around the room as he stepped in. He'd been in it many times. Most of those memories including trying to wake up the drunk who'd occupied it previously so he could actually do some work. Now, it bore little resemblance to that earlier time. Clutter, a mainstay of the room, was missing. Instead, neat knickknacks, things picked up here and there over the last couple of years gave the illusion that the room's current occupant had been here forever.

  "Have a seat," she said.

  He pulled out the familiar chair at the equally familiar table and sat sighing gratefully as he took the pressure off of his knees.

  Megan pulled the chair next to him out and sat. "We just got word. New London picked up someone they believe to be a member of the New Lords."

  "Great! You going to interrogate him?"

  Megan shook her head. "No, the investigator there will. They'll wire me the results. I'm actually expecting them any time now. The guy at the office said he'd bring them by as soon as he had them ready."

  He nodded. Jason still couldn't get past the idea of using the telegraph to send messages in the 21st century, but it's not like the internet was an option any longer.

  A knock on the door ripped Jason from his thoughts.

  Megan opened the door. On the other side stood a young man holding out a piece of paper. "Your telegraph, ma'am."

  Megan smiled and took the paper, closed the door, and returned to her seat.

  She read the note before finally saying, "Seems the New Lords are branching down this way. They haven't tried to take any of our territory, but they're pushing against the borders."

  "Expansion, or relocation?" Jason asked.

  Megan looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Relocation, but why would you even think of that?"

  He shrugged. "We're not in the world we grew up in. Armies don't just cross the border for invasion these days. People like Conklin an
d his Blackshirts are all over, but they can be pushed out of an area. Even more legitimate governments can get pushed out and seek new territory. All it takes is someone stronger. Happened all the time in the ancient world. Hell, Rome didn't fall because the Goths and Visigoths were just visiting."

  She nodded. "Maybe, but that's what's even more bizarre."

  "How do you mean?"

  "This guy? He's clueless. He doesn't have any idea why their leader—some guy named Declan—pulled them out of their territory and headed south. No reason, they just up and move."

  "You're right, that is weird. I mean, it makes no sense at all. Why leave an established area to try and gain new territory that you may or may not be able to get a foothold if you don't have to?"

  "It says here that some Hispanic guy showed up, talked to this Declan character, and the next thing he knew, they were packing up for parts unknown."

  "Hispanic guy?" Jason asked.

  "Yeah. 'Young Hispanic male in some kind of uniform'."

  Jason considered for a moment, then was struck with a realization. "Son of a bitch!"

  "What?"

  "Young Hispanic male in a uniform?"

  She nodded. "Yeah, that's what it says."

  "We never found Conklin's right hand man."

  "So?"

  "He was a young Hispanic guy name was Ramirez."

  Megan cursed, the manner of which was eerily similar to Jason's earlier outburst.

  Jason said, "I think we need to talk to this guy to be sure, don't ya think?"

  She nodded. "So I guess we are going to New London after all."

  "Looks that way."

  CHAPTER 4

  The trip to New London was relatively uneventful. Jason yawned as they approached the Ranger barracks. It's not like he was going to sleep when he was so close to an explosion waiting to happen. He didn't think he'd ever be comfortable with wood gas powered vehicles.

  "You know anyone here?" he asked.

  "No," Megan answered. "Not personally. Only by reputation. But then again, they know you by reputation too."

  Jason shrugged. "I haven't done anything in a while."

  "Knock that false modesty shit off. I know better than that," she said with a smile, then knocked on the door.

  "Wasn't trying to be false about anything, but…," he said with a shrug.

  Megan laughed.

  The wooden door opened. The man on the other side looked vaguely familiar to Jason, but he couldn't place him. Half a head taller than Jason, his broad shoulders made him look like a small mountain. His lack of hair up top didn't exactly help with the visual either. "Yeah?" the mountain asked.

  "Investigator Perkins?"

  He nodded.

  "Investigator Hernandez from New Eden. This is Sheriff Calvin."

  The big man smiled. "Oh, I didn't expect you for another hour or so. Come on in," he said as he moved out of the way.

  Jason entered and quickly scanned the room. The layout was identical to the investigator's rooms in New Eden. However, whereas Megan's was covered in knickknacks, Investigator Perkins was apparently a bit of a painter. Every flat surface had drops of paint splattered everywhere. Up against every wall stood canvases with various scenes depicted.

  "Sheriff, I have to say it's good to see you again," Perkins said.

  "I thought you looked familiar," Jason said, "but I'll be damned if I can remember where."

  He smiled. "I'm surprised I even looked familiar. I was at the Battle of the Pass. Part of the relief force."

  Jason nodded in understanding. In the final desperate moments, Rick arrived with a large number of cavalry from various towns throughout the Tennessee Valley. The efforts to put that force together was the core of what became the TVA. "That explains it. I didn't really get to talk to most of you guys. I'd had a bit of a rough day."

  The big man laughed. "Talk about an understatement. But you two didn't come here to talk about old times or anything. You want to talk to Mister Jones, am I right?"

  Megan nodded. "Yeah, we think we may know who his 'young Hispanic male' might be, but we need to talk to him to be sure."

  Perkins nodded and led them out of the room. Ranger barracks didn't contain their own cells, instead relying on local police to house prisoners. This apparently worked to varying degrees, from what Jason had heard through the grapevine, and was mostly dependent on what the relationship between the investigator and the sheriff was.

  They approached a small brick building. Iron bars stood at attention in the window frame. Perkins opened the door and walked in as they followed.

  "Hey, Jimmy. This is investigator Hernandez from New Eden, and this is Jason Calvin," Perkins said, a smug smile crossing his lips.

  "No shit?" the portly man sitting at the desk with his feet propped up said. When Perkins nodded, the man's feet swung down and he popped up and offered out his hand. "Damn glad to meet you, Sheriff Calvin. Heard a lot about you."

  Jason shook the man's hand. "A pleasure."

  "Jimmy, they're here to see the tattooed guy you're holding for me."

  Jimmy nodded and scooted out from behind his desk and walked down the hall, motioning for them to follow. The hall was short, only a few barred gates on either side. Jimmy moved up to the last cell and opened the door.

  "Marcus," he said, "you've got some company."

  "Your mother again? She just can't get enough, can she?" a gravelly voice fired back.

  "Quit pretending. We all know you prefer my dad, and we don't judge around these parts, so you can let your inner flamer out," Jimmy quipped.

  "Blow me."

  Jimmy laughed. "I said I didn't judge. I didn't say you were my type."

  Jason looked into the cell. The rotund sheriff was bantering with a man a full head and a half taller than Jason, who easily outweighed the sheriff by a couple dozen pounds, but his was all muscle. Tattoos marked his bare arms from wrist to the shoulders of his worn and heavily patched leather vest.

  Jimmy gestured toward Megan and him. "This is investigator Hernandez and Sheriff Jason Calvin. They want to ask you a few questions."

  At the mention of Jason's name, the big man's eyes widened for the briefest moment. He knew the name. He could try to hide it, but he recognized it somehow. Jason knew he had to get the man to talk.

  "Folks," Jimmy continued, "This is Marcus Ledbetter. I guess you want to talk to him in private." With that, the man turned and wormed his way between them and out the cell door.

  "I don't know what you want. I told that other Ranger everything I know," Marcus said.

  "We want to ask you about the Hispanic guy that showed up," Megan said. "Did you get a name?"

  Marcus leered. "Tell you what, sweet cheeks. You run the sheriff outta here for a little bit, give me a little private attention, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."

  Jason stepped forward to jack the punk up, but before he could take a full step, Megan dropped, swung her leg around quickly and taking the big man's feet out from under him, then popped back up and place her left boot on the man's throat.

  "You were saying?" she asked, her voice dripping with sweetness.

  The big man gasped for air as Megan smiled at him with her best "come hither" look. It took every ounce of self control Jason had not to laugh.

  She lifted her foot up slightly and the gasping stopped. "Now," she continued, "this Hispanic gentleman. Did he have a name?"

  "Yeah," he finally stammered out, "but I don't really remember it. Something with an 'R' though. Rodriguez, something like that."

  "Ramirez?" Jason asked.

  The man nodded his head. "Yeah, that's it. Some military punk. Thinks he's better than us. Can't be too good though. Apparently he got his ass kicked before heading our way."

  "And what do you know about that?" Jason asked.

  "Just that you and yours kicked some army's ass, and Ramirez came running to us like a little bitch. Next thing I know, Declan said to pack up shop. We were heading south. An
d he was pissed."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know," the big man said. Megan applied just a bit more pressure to his throat, and then he said, "I swear, man. I haven't got a clue. I wasn't in those meetings and shit."

  "But my name came up?" Jason asked.

  "Yeah, it did. Something about dealing with some punk ass sheriff Jason Calvin."

  Megan turned her head to look at him, her foot staying on the man's throat. "So who did you piss off?"

  Jason shrugged. "Who knows. I'm such a loveable guy, you know."

  "Of course."

  ** ** **

  Jason sat at the rough wooden table, multihued splatters covered a significant portion of the wood, making the texture a bizarre mixed of smooth bumps and rough, splintery wood. Beside him, Megan looked at her fellow investigator with an intensity that would make most men shrink away.

  "I'm sorry," Perkins said. "Without a charge, we've got to let him go. I've got witnesses that put him in town when the deputy was killed, so he's not directly involved."

  "I understand," Megan said. "Can you get the sheriff to keep an eye on him?"

  Perkins nodded. "Yeah, absolutely. He won't be able to sneeze without one of our guys holding a tissue out for him."

  "Good," Jason said. "He recognized my name. I don't know how, but I'll bet he knows something about Hector's death."

  "He might, but unless we get something else, there's not much else we can do."

  "And that really pisses me off."

  "It could be worse," Megan said.

  Jason nodded.

  ** ** **

  Marcus stepped out of the sheriff's office and took a deep breath. No, the air didn't smell any different to him, but it was a habit from the days before the nukes when it did. He looked around at the eyes glued on him and smiled. Declan might not like the company, but there were things he would like so much that he wouldn't mind a couple of extra eyes.