Exodus

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Exodus Page 20

by Michael R. Watson


  One of Blake’s men caught a movement in the trees, alerting him. They prepared for a sneak attack from their rear. Blake ordered two of his men to take up a position behind another barrier for protection. Grayson stepped out from the trees. “Charles?” Blake muttered to himself.

  Blake jumped up and ran to him. “What are you doing here?” he asked as he grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him to their position behind the barrier.

  “What’s going on here?” asked Grayson. “Is there a problem?”

  “Just the resistance I already told you about. Men with guns are keeping us from reaching the governor. We’re trying to resolve it without using force.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. And how’s it going?”

  “I made a proposal and we’re waiting to hear back from them.”

  “It’ll begin to get dark in a couple of hours. I was hoping we could get him out before then,” said Grayson.

  ***

  John and Ryder made their way downstairs to the others. They passed by one of the men keeping watch at one of the staircase windows. “Any activity out there?” asked Ryder.

  “Another guy came out of the woods and joined the others. He wasn’t in uniform like them though.” He paused. “Other than that, no.”

  They continued down to the foyer where their group was waiting, locating Gant and pulling him aside.

  “The governor and Damon will only consider coming out if we let the detail outside come in and escort them out,” explained John.

  Darby, who had moved closer to eavesdrop, interrupted them. “That’s perfect. We can get them all at one time.”

  Ryder was quick to respond to his friend. “Why? What difference would it make if we just let them all go? That would leave the entire place to us. And no one would get hurt.”

  Ryder didn’t really expect a response and Darby, after hearing it spelled out, resisted the urge to argue. A part of him knew Ryder was right. Without the governor or any of his people around, they would have complete access and control of the facility. He nodded agreement.

  “Good,” said Gant. “I’ll let the detail outside know that we’ll give them free passage to come in and take Davis out.”

  “And I’ll tell Davis,” said Ryder as he ran to the stairs.

  “I’ll wait until you get back,” Gant called after him.

  “Everyone,” Gant called out, “stand down, but stay alert. The men outside are coming in for the governor.” There were only a few murmurs from the assembly. No one objected to Gant as their unofficial leader.

  Moments later Ryder quickly came down the stairs, nodding to Gant.

  Gant walked to the entrance door and cracked it open. “Come and get them,” he yelled. “We won’t try to stop you.”

  There were a few seconds of silence. “What do you think?” Grayson asked Blake. “Can we trust them?”

  “I hope so,” answered Blake. “But we don’t really have a choice. If we want to get the governor out, this appears to be the only way. I say we take a giant leap of faith.”

  “It’s your call since you’re taking all the risk,” said the chief governor. “If your gut tells you not to enter, we’ll try something different.”

  Blake looked from man to man, receiving a nod from each. “We’re running out of time. Let’s do this. I’ll take the lead. Stay close. Single file.” Blake stood and came out into the open followed by his men one at a time. Grayson stayed behind the barrier, keeping low, peering over the top so he didn’t miss anything. Blake and his men pressed up against the wall, just outside of the entrance door. Blake moved to the door alone, pounding on the door. “We’re coming in!”

  “Come ahead!” Gant shouted back.

  Blake took a deep breath and opened the door slowly. Peering inside, he could see the force they would have been up against. There were significantly more men than he’d anticipated, lining the walls of the foyer and hallway leading to the interior, all armed, but with their weapons down and in a non-threatening manner. He was glad they’d been able to reach an agreement. They wouldn’t have stood a chance. He stepped inside, waving for his men to follow.

  Gant stepped forward. “The stairs here lead to the third floor. Governor Davis is at the end of the first hallway, in the southeast corner office.”

  “Thanks,” replied Blake, moving toward the stairs. His men stayed close on his heels, closely watching for any sign of aggression from the others.

  Ryder kept an eye on Darby, moving to be next to him. They had been best friends for the past four years and Ryder knew Darby was prone to act irrationally at times. He was glad and surprised to see him calm, a contrast to his earlier determination to get to the governor. Perhaps he had gotten through to him.

  Blake and his men cautiously proceeded up the staircase, weapons ready. A trap could be waiting for them. On the third floor they found the double doors leading into the administrative wing. One of the team was placed at the door to watch their back. The rest proceeded to the corner office. Standing off to the side of the door, in an attempt to avoid being accidently shot, Blake knocked on the door. “Governor?” he shouted. It’s Governor Grayson’s men. You can come out now.”

  Governor Davis was not convinced.

  Damon moved to the door. “Can you prove who you are?”

  “I met the governor a few years ago when this place was established as an aid center. My name is Blake.”

  Davis got up from his chair and slowly approached the door. “Blake?” called the governor.

  “Yes, sir. It’s clear. We’re ready to escort you out of here. Please open the door.”

  Peck was eager to accept the invitation. “Let’s go. What are we waiting for?”

  Damon looked at Davis, waiting for his approval. Davis nodded. There didn’t appear to be any doubt about who was on the other side of the door. “Ready?”

  Davis nodded again and Damon unlocked the door. “We’re coming out.”

  Blake motioned for his men to back away.

  Damon reached for the doorknob, “I’ll go first, just in case.”

  Davis didn’t argue. He was anxious to reach safety, but he wasn’t willing to be the first to face potential danger.

  Damon turned the doorknob and cracked the door wide enough to see into the hallway. A man in uniform stood opposite the door with an assault rifle held ready. “Blake?”

  “Let’s go before they change their minds downstairs. Is Governor Davis alright?”

  Davis forced the door open all the way and stepped forward, past Damon. “I’m fine,” he said indignantly. Somewhere, it seemed he’d found his backbone. “I wanted you to come and take care of the threat to us. But instead, now I’m being forced out. If you did your job right, I shouldn’t have to leave. Where is Grayson? Did he come with you?”

  “You mean Chief Governor Grayson, don’t you?” asked Blake pointedly.

  Davis paused, staring at Blake and reconsidering his current position. “Yes, of course, Chief Governor Grayson.”

  Blake knew Charles didn’t really care much for titles, but he felt correcting Davis served an important purpose.

  “To answer one of your questions, yes, he’s here, waiting just outside. As far as taking care of the threat, it’s my understanding that you’ve brought this on yourself, but I’ll let Charles address that.”

  Davis didn’t miss Blake’s obvious and deliberate use of the chief governor’s first name, immediately understanding that there must be a familiarity between the two men, and Blake was rubbing his nose in it. He decided then to wait and direct all his questions to the chief governor in person.

  “We’re ready,” claimed Damon, entering the hallway, eyeing the other members of the detail.

  “I’ll go first,” offered Blake. “Governor Davis, why don’t you stay right behind me with your associates and the rest of my men will follow up. Let’s go,” said Blake as he led the way.

  As they neared the first floor, Blake stopped them all. It seemed too quiet bel
ow. “Jones, go check it out. Make sure it’s okay to proceed.”

  Jones came to the head of the procession and proceeded alone down the stairs. They waited impatiently, Davis and Peck especially showing concern. Rapid footsteps up the stairs caused Blake to raise his rifle. Jones stopped when he saw Blake. He nodded that it was okay below, waving them to continue.

  They entered the foyer. There was a noticeable tension in the air, all eyes on them. Darby took a step forward, but Ryder, anticipating the worst, held him back. Darby, seeing who had a hold on him, knew better than to fight against the restraint.

  Before reaching the door to leave, Governor Davis spotted his former long-time Master of the Guard, Gant. He broke from the procession and stormed over to him. Blake, not expecting such a rash act, hadn’t been quick enough to stop him. “It’s because of you that this has all happened. Why? Didn’t I treat you and your family fairly?”

  Damon grabbed the governor’s arm and gave it a tug. “This isn’t going to change anything. Let’s go!”

  “I just want to know why?” repeated Davis, resisting Damon.

  Gant refused to respond. What was the point? If Davis didn’t have a clue as to why this had happened, then there was no answer that he would accept.

  Damon continued to direct him to the door until Davis finally stopped resisting.

  The detail met Governor Grayson at the gate.

  Davis, seeing him, began his tirade as he rushed at him, “I thought you were going to come here and make things alright again. That’s why I radioed you. Now, instead, we’re having to run away. What are you going to do about this?”

  Grayson was taken aback a bit, then responded, “You’re welcome,” in a calm voice.

  Davis stared back, coming to realize he’d just been rescued and that the person responsible for it and the one man who could make things right, was the man he was yelling at. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Thank you for coming.”

  “Why don’t we get out of here while we can?” urged Blake.

  “Governor, shall we?” remarked Damon as he motioned to Davis.

  A silence fell over the group as Blake led the way back to the helicopter. Davis worried that he may have burned one too many bridges. As they approached, they were met by a huge crowd, the workers under Davis’ control, the residents of Tent City.

  Blake raised his hand for the procession to stop, then proceeded alone toward them. They seemed to be peaceful, not like the desperate mobs he’d witnessed during the early days after the quakes.

  One of the workers stepped forward.

  “What do you people want?” asked Blake.

  “Is it true? Are we free?” the worker asked, directing his question past Blake to Governor Davis.

  Davis ignored them, backing away until he had members of the tactical team between him and the crowd.

  Grayson came up behind Blake. “Can I help?” he asked.

  “They want to know if they are free,” relayed Blake.

  “I don’t understand,” said Grayson with a puzzled expression. “My name is Charles Grayson. I am the Chief Governor over this sector. What do you mean free?”

  “Since the guards are gone,” began Roy, “are we free? We don’t want to get into any trouble by asking, but will we still get our rations?”

  Grayson looked back at Davis, Damon, and Peck. All three were avoiding eye contact with him. Davis was suspiciously quiet. Anger began to build in him as he came to understand what had been happening there. He blamed himself. He should have anticipated the possibility of misuse of power. Perhaps, if he had stayed in better communication or had been more hands-on, this could have been prevented. The old adage “no news is good news” obviously didn’t apply. Evidently, Davis had completely taken advantage of the people who had come there looking for help, instead becoming victims for the second time. And it infuriated him.

  Grayson looked at the other faces in the crowd. This was no mob. They were not a threat, even though it had appeared that way from the air when they’d first arrived and had been fired upon. These people were the ones who needed to be rescued. They just wanted answers and they deserved them. He turned to Blake, “We’re not leaving yet. First, I’m going to have a talk with …” He looked at the man in front of him.

  “Roy. Roy Wilson.”

  “Keep an eye on Davis and his friends. They may require special attention.”

  Blake nodded acknowledgement as Grayson led Roy to a place where they could have a little privacy. A fallen tree in the shade of the late afternoon sun served as a good spot.

  “I thought you were going to take me out of this place,” Davis said to Blake. “So, let’s go.” There was a quiver to his voice. Here, with this large crowd of Tent City workers moving closer, he felt extremely vulnerable. The crowd began to surround them.

  “Relax,” replied Blake. “Sit, if you want. We could be here for a while.” He gathered the rest of his unit together and quietly informed them of what he had overheard and how Davis’ status may have changed.

  Half an hour passed while Grayson and Roy talked, Grayson glancing frequently at Davis with disbelief. The sun was now dropping below the tree tops. During their talk, some of the crowd had seated themselves on the ground, patiently waiting for the outcome. Others had headed back to Tent City to the only homes they knew. The people had been forced to work in the fields preparing the soil, tending to and then harvesting the crops, or taking care of the livestock, for the past five years. They wondered what would happen to them now. Would they be able to leave? Would they be forced to leave? Either way, where would they go?

  Grayson and Roy stood and shook hands, walking side by side back to the others. The crowd, sensing an announcement, began to stand. Their faces showed their concern. Grayson pulled Blake aside.

  “It’s worse than I could have imagined. These people were imprisoned and used as slave labor since day one solely for Davis’ personal gains. He was no more than a dictator. He took everything I gave him and everything he collected and used it only for his own personal use. I should have maintained better control.” He paused. “I hope none of the other sectors are being run this way. When this situation has been resolved, we’re going to personally go to each sector and make sure this hasn’t happened at any of them.” He paused again. “I’m not sure what to do with Davis and his men. Any ideas?”

  “Not offhand, but I’m sure we can come up with something appropriate. What about all these people? They’ve been waiting to hear what’s going to happen to them.”

  “According to Roy, they want to stay here and make it a real community and I told him they could do whatever they want and if they decide to stay that I’ll help. This time I need to maintain better control and keep this sort of thing from happening again. He said he’d spread the word.”

  “And the people who seem to have taken over the compound?” asked Blake.

  “I need to talk with them too. With Davis removed, they may be more agreeable. Roy said two of them had already come to them about sharing the stockpile Davis had accumulated. That’s where these people were headed when we arrived.”

  “It’ll be dark before long,” said Blake. “Why don’t you wait until morning to talk to them? As long as we stay out here, I think we’re out of danger.”

  “You know I hate putting things off. I’d rather try to talk to them now. Care to go with me?”

  “Try and stop me.”

  “Have your men take Davis and the others to the helicopter and watch them until we get back.”

  “Okay. It’s against my better judgment, but if you’re determined to go, let’s get it over with.”

  Grayson smiled at his friend. He liked that Blake wasn’t shy about speaking his mind. It was one of his best traits and he knew he could count on him to be brutally honest at all times.

  ***

  .

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “They’re gone,” declared Gant after the detail escorted Davis and the others out.
“Now we can bring the wagons back over to the dock and finish packing them and get out of here.” He received several nods of agreement while others were already headed for the lower level to gather more goods.

  “Wait!” shouted Darby. “Why do we need to leave at all? Davis is gone. The entire place is ours now.” He hoped to hear support from at least some of the others, but no one spoke up, which frustrated him and made him angry. “Tell me, why should we leave?”

  Ryder came to him. “I thought we agreed, we don’t need this place. Most of our men have families back there. And that’s where our friends are.”

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go back, it was the fact that this place was free for the taking. “We can have both,” claimed Darby, “for all of our people.”

  “That stockpile belongs to everyone in this region. Davis’ men took all this from them and kept it for himself. Once word gets out, they’ll come for their share.”

  “And what’s to keep someone or some group from doing just like Davis and taking it over for themselves?”

  “We can leave the tent people in control and let them distribute the goods,” suggested Ryder. “C’mon, Darby, be reasonable, we already took a share of the goods and we don’t need this place.”

  Darby stormed off without another word. Ryder now knew he hadn’t gotten through to him earlier. He hated arguing with his friend, but sometimes he felt Darby just argued for the sake of arguing. Ryder checked on the wagons. They were already full with the men in the process of tying the items down.

  “Let’s get these wagons moving,” suggested Gant, “and put some distance between us and this place before it gets too dark.” There was no argument since Darby wasn’t there.

  Two of the Raiders took up positions at the reins of the two wagons, one to go to Paradise and the other to Haven. From there, the goods could be distributed to people in the surrounding areas. What they’d taken had barely made a dent in the stockpile of goods in the lower level. Perhaps the people of Tent City would allow them to return for more.

 

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