A handful of teenagers paused above the dropped gate. The girls accepted a helping hand from the servicemen, but the boys leapt to the ground in splats of mud.
Sally shook her head then tucked a loose strand of hair under her helmet. “No Ma’am. I was the one who registered the Reverend when he arrived in camp.”
Ah, yes, Mavis had meant to look into how the military had registered people. That had not been her department with the Surgeon General’s Office. Perhaps they had gleaned some nugget she could use.
“You did?” She counted the children as the teens shepherded them past. Four youngsters and two tweens. Although pale and thin, they appeared unhurt and even smiled. But they’d known each other before. They would do alright. She watched the teenage boy David had brought in teasing two battered teenage girls and chasing after the youngsters. Her gaze swung to the Reverend’s spot. Gone but not forgotten.
“I suppose the Reverend asked who needed the most attention. And given that you were registering folks, you’d know. Right, Sally?”
Dull eyed adults shuffled along the dirt road. Many had specks of blood staining their clothes. They followed each other in ant lines—stepping where the one in front stepped, moving in syncopated rhythm but not in harmony. Harmony required a connection; these were little more than robots allowing servicemen and women to guide them. These were her high risk category; the ones that would sit down and die.
Sally snorted. “The Reverend was more interested in camp politics than ministering to anything but his needs.”
The hair on Mavis’s nape rose. The wolf was hunting among her flock. Like all predators, he was trying to suss out the strong and the weak. No doubt he’d already picked his targets.
He’d find out soon enough, he picked the wrong herd. These folks were under her protection. And she never showed mercy for those that threatened hers.
She shifted to the side, leaned against the truck behind Sunnie’s. Heat wafted from the engine grill. She needed to be smart about culling the Reverend. Killing a man of the cloth wasn’t actually good community building. She needed more data to formulate an effective offense.
Working in tandem, the Marines unloaded first a wheelchair then an old man with withered legs. A red-haired woman tucked a blanket over his lap. He swatted her behind and she straightened with a huff.
“For that Henry Dobbins, you can make your own way down.” With a toss of her head, she tucked a white haired woman’s hand in the crook of her arm and stomped off.
“I intend to, woman.” The old man chuckled. He rocked the chair back and forth a few times. By the time, he got it moving, most of her neighbors had been unloaded. They waved at her before following him along the dirt road.
“Did he talk about himself at all?” With his arrogance, he was bound to want to talk about how smart he was.
“Once he got started, I couldn’t get him to stop.” Sally clasped her hands behind her back. “I thought reverends were supposed to be good listeners.”
Mr. Quartermain climbed gingerly to the ground; his grandson jumped down next to him. Glaring at her, the boy shoved aside his long hair and adjusted the bow and quiver of arrows on his shoulder. She smiled back. No doubt the kid missed his internet full of government conspiracies. Hmmm. She swatted at a fly buzzing in her ear. If the man was half as smart as he thought he was, he might use the general paranoia to institute a regime change.
She’d have to warn Lister.
“What else did Reverend Franklin talk about?”
“Franklin, Ma’am?” Sally’s forehead wrinkled.
Mavis watched the man in question finally climb down from the protection of the truck. They were talking about the same wolf, weren’t they? What were the odds that two wolves would appear in her flock? She nodded toward the flannel-clad man. “Yes, Reverend Trent P. Franklin.”
Sally’s eyes narrowed. “He registered under Benjamin Trent.”
“Did he now?” Ah, yes, she’d forgotten the man’s disdain for women. Arrogance could be his fatal flaw.
“Definitely.”
“What information did you gather when he registered?”
As if feeling her gaze, the Reverend slanted her a glance. Straightening, he brushed and smoothed his flannel shirt. Annoyance slithered off his face before he smiled.
Shit! The asshole was coming over.
Sally shifted in front of her, blocking her view. “I got his fingerprints. They’re not the best.”
Reverend Franklin slowed.
Fingerprints could open lots of information vaults. Mavis grinned. She could hug the officer and the military for their intelligence gathering in times of a disaster. “I’m surprised he gave them up.”
Doubt tempered her joy. Unless… unless he didn’t have a record.
“Reverend!” A woman shouted. “Reverend Trent!”
He turned in the direction of the call and the smile scurried away from his lips.
Soon, the woman in a blood-stained uniform dragged him out of sight.
“Trent refused to give them so I took advantage of a distraction and pressed his hand to the reader.” The lieutenant chuckled. “I don’t think he knows that I did it.”
He would hate knowing a woman got the better of him, especially, if she was able to use it to expose him as an imposter. “Run a background check on him. Full check.”
Every conman left a trace somewhere.
“But Ma’am, the electricity…”
Yes, the electricity was out. “The government’s personal generators are still working, which means the computers connected to them are still running. You just have to find a working cellphone signal.”
Sally grinned. “Or I can rig a satellite phone to the handheld and run his background from anywhere.”
Mavis waited until the Marines climbed the tailgate and disappeared inside the carrier then made her way to the back of the truck. “Do it and let me know as soon as you find out anything.”
The sooner the wolf was dealt with, the safer they all would be.
Chapter Ten
Easing in front of Audra, Eddie aimed his shotgun at the restaurant’s dark kitchen. “Come out, or I’ll shoot.”
Audra swallowed the lump of fear wedged in her throat and tiptoed into place behind him. Stupid! How could she have been so stupid? She’d been so busy showing Eddie that she knew her way around the fast food place that she hadn’t even remembered her flashlight. Now, it sat on the drive-thru window and she was defenseless.
Hadn’t her daddy always said pride was a pitfall?
Eddie stepped sideways, sweeping the muzzle of his gun from side to side.
What was he doing? That wall might hide someone but it protected him, too. She tugged on his shirt. “Stop moving.”
He wiggled as if to escape her hold. “I’m giving you to the count of three, then I’ll start firing.”
What! From this range? Was he nuts? The blast wouldn’t go that much farther than the staging area. And didn’t shotguns only hold two shells? “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
What if there were more than two people back there?
“One.” Eddie steadied the gun, pointing it toward the dark aisle leading to the grills.
“Don’t shoot!” A man’s voice echoed off the tiled walls. “We’re not armed.”
“We?” She gathered the fabric of Eddie’s shirt in her trembling hands. Her tongue felt like foam in her mouth. We meant more than one, but how many more? There was only a baker’s dozen adults left in her group and so many children. Were they outnumbered? Evenly matched?
Could she take a chance on either? Using a toilet wasn’t worth the risk and they had enough fuel for a while, at least until they reached the soldiers.
“The mask is over my mouth, not my ears, Princess.” He stepped closer to the kitchen, yanking his shirt out of her grip.
She leaped after him, fisted the camouflage and tried to reel him back. Not one more person would die because of her mistake. Not one. �
��Maybe we should leave them be. Get out of here while we can.”
While everyone was alive.
God help her, if she lost people like she had in Casa Grande.
“No. We need that oil to reach the soldiers or my brother died for nothing.” Muscles bunched in Eddie’s back.”Come into the light. I want to see you.”
The shadows shifted by the deep fryer near the drive-thru window. “How do I know you won’t just shoot me?”
Her fear ebbed under the warm glow of hope. She’d walked by the fryer. If they’d meant her harm, they could easily have snatched her up while Eddie was locked outside. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
“Why would I do that?” Her would-be protector adjusted his aim a little to the left tracking the sound.
Could she take the chance that they were friendly?
“Others have.” The stranger volleyed back. “For less.”
Audra swallowed despite her dry mouth. They sounded like a bunch of preschoolers arguing. In her limited experience, thugs didn’t argue, they bullied and threatened, occasionally flat out stole. One of them had to be the first to believe in the harmless intentions of the other or the soldiers would depart while they continued this showdown.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind Eddie’s sheltering body. She trailed her fingers over the half wall separating the dining room from the ordering area. If the stranger and his followers did have weapons, perhaps she could dive behind it.
“We mean you no harm. Please come out.” She set her hand on the shotgun’s muzzle, pushing it down slightly.
“What are you doing?” Eddie hissed.
“We’ve heard that before,” Shadowman answered.
So had they. Throbbing started at her temple, she couldn’t live her life like this. Her stomach knotted. Then again, if this was another Casa Grande, she wouldn’t be living much longer.
“Is that why you’re hiding?” Eddie shifted on his feet but didn’t raise his weapon.
“No, we’re hiding from the gang that just came through here.”
She sucked air in through her teeth. People had caused the explosion. People with bad intentions. She glanced over her shoulder. On the other side of the tinted windows, storm clouds dimmed the weak sunlight. Children lined up to use the toilet at the gas station, but she couldn’t see the field or the neighborhood where the explosion occurred.
Were the bad guys already making their way back to them?
Her toes tapped out the seconds. It was time to be all in or cut their losses and leave.
“They’ve been harassing us for the last two days.” The man’s voice broke, “Picking us off. Stealing our food.”
“And what? They just magically didn’t come in here?” Eddie jerked the muzzle free and aimed it at the kitchen again. “The only restaurant that was open during the Redaction was magically bypassed?”
A shadow morphed into a silhouette then a man emerged from the darkness. Pale skin, black Polo shirt, dark slacks and brown hair. Lines bracketed his mouth and fatigue hung on his eyes. “Haven’t you heard the broadcasts?”
He certainly looked like a man being harassed. “What broadcasts?”
Fabric rustled behind him. Just how many people were back there? There was only one way to find out. It was time to cooperate and a Silvestre’s duty was to lead.
“We drove up from Tucson last night and our radio is dead.” Crossing the ordering area, she set her palms on the counter between them, proving she was unarmed. Trustworthy. “What do these broadcasts say?”
“There’s a radio under the counter.” The man took another step toward the serving counter. “I’ll get it and you can hear for yourself.”
“Hell no!” Eddie charged the counter.
Raising his hands, the man backpedalled until he crashed into the staging area. Metal clanged as his heels hit the stainless steel cabinet. “Okay. Okay!”
A muffled cry came from the back.
“That’s enough!” Geez, these two were worse than tweens. “I’ll get the radio.”
“Audra,” Eddie growled. “He could use you as a hostage.”
“I would never!” the stranger protested.
She shoved her bangs out of her eyes. Did he think she was completely naive? “They had plenty of opportunity to do so when I entered and you were locked out.” Still, Eddie had a point. Keeping her eye on the stranger, she rounded the corner of the counter and pushed at the fake wood door cordoning off the area.
“You won’t take it, will you?” His hands dropped from ear-level to shoulder. “We need it to find the soldiers.”
Soldiers. The magic word. Practically the keys to Heaven. “You’re looking for the soldiers, too?”
With the stranger and the kitchen in her peripheral vision, she ran her hands under the stainless steel counter. Nothing sat on this stack of plastic trays. Clearing the first register, she skipped the cup holders. A dark lump sat on the tower of trays.
“Yeah, they’re supposed to be evacuating the city, but no one showed up at our gathering point so we’re heading out along the route as directed.”
“The fires don’t seem so bad here.” Eddie approached the counter. The muzzle dipped a bit.
She snatched up the radio and stabbed the on button. Nothing. Not even static. Please God, can’t they get one break. Was there really a broadcast?
“The fires aren’t the problem.” The stranger reached for the radio before raising his hand again. “With the soldiers gone, some folks have just gone a little… crazy.”
Eddie nodded. “We know.”
“Batteries are dead.” She set it on the counter. Not that it changed anything. They would still head for the university’s east campus. The news had showed images of the soldier’s temporary base there.
“It’s a wind-up. No batteries.”
The side door banged against the wall. A gust of wind blew half charred leaves across the tile. Eddie swung around aiming for the new intruder.
Jacqueline Silvestre marched through the side entrance. A small pout tugged at the corners of her eyes when she spied the weapon pointed in her direction.
Eddie pointed his weapon at the ground.
“Really Audra, how long can…” Her mother trailed off as she spied the stranger.
“Mother.” Hitching her behind on the counter, she swung her legs over and spun around then dropped to the other side. “You were supposed to wait for me to signal the all clear.”
“You didn’t answer the walkie-talkie, dear.”
“It was on the entire time.” She reached for it on her belt to show her mother she wasn’t completely stupid but her fingers encountered empty air.
“You lost the walkie, Princess?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the pounding from blowing off the top of her head. “It might have fallen off when you pushed me through the window.”
“The children couldn’t wait, dear.” Her mother snapped her fingers and two lines paraded toward the restroom.
“You have children.” The man jerked his chin toward the back. “We do, too.”
“How nice.” Mom smoothed her hair. “Since that is settled, Audra, I really must insist that the children be permitted to make use of the facilities.”
Audra threw up her hands. Obviously the wrong Silvestre was in charge. Turning back to the stranger, she scanned the ground. Her walkie-talkie squatted like a black bug near the staging area’s kick plate. “Do you have anyone using the facilities?”
“No. We’re all in the back.”
“Go ahead, Mother.” She watched two lines of children march by.
At the restroom doors, Mom parted them, sending half into the boys room and half into the girls. Their murmurs and whispers blended with the swell of voices coming from the back room. Now for the hard part.
To take them or leave them?
“I can get that going for you, Audra, isn’t it?” The stranger held out his hand for the radio.
; Since he called her by her name and not that odious Princess like some people did, she picked it off the counter and placed it into his palm. “You have me at a disadvantage, Mr….”
A muscle ticked in Eddie’s jaw. Strangling the shotgun’s stock with one hand, he stomped around the counter and snatched up the walkie. “What is this an apocalyptic tea party?”
“Manners are important. Now more than ever.”
“Yeah.” Eddie snorted, shaking the walkie. “Right.”
Faces emerged in the gloom behind the stranger. Men. Women. Young. Old. Burning with hope; tempered by fear.
“Actually, I’ve found most people to be polite and helpful.” She smiled at the newcomers.
“Even the ones shooting at you?” He smacked the walkie against the counter then used his thumb to work the switch. “It’s dead.”
“As the woman, this Doctor person in charge said, we’re all in this together.” A soft whirring sound filled the air and the stranger’s torso shook as he spun the crank. “I’m Stuart. Stuart Graham.”
He didn’t offer his hand, but then they were full with the radio. So that was all right then. “I’m Audra Silvestre.”
Eddie snorted. “And I’m Eddie, Eddie Buchanan. Now can we listen to the stupid message and get going, Stuey?”
“Stuart.” The stranger turned the radio on and leaned it against the cash register. “Stu and Stuey sound a little too much like dinner.”
Static crackled through the radio’s speakers before a woman began to speak.
“This is Doctor Mavis Spanner, Surgeon General and acting Commander-in-Chief of the United States Armed Forces. On March fifth, our country was attacked by a foreign government. Instead of bombs, the enemy used biological or germ warfare, specifically anthrax.”
Ripples of fear traveled out her fingers and toes. Anthrax, not influenza. That explained the odd symptoms. And… She swallowed hard. And meant, she wasn’t immune. Although, the attack had happened on the fifth and here it was the twelfth and still she hadn’t gotten sick.
Eddie reared back. “What the fuck! I thought we were fighting the Redaction.”
“Shh!” She held her finger to her mask. “We need to listen to what she says.”
Redaction: The Meltdown Part II Page 11
