The Alpha Chronicles

by Joe Nobody

  Terri produced a piece of paper and began jotting notes between bites of food. Diana sipped her tea and asked, “What about security? Right now, everyone is getting along pretty well, but it won’t last. Besides, we’ve got people on patrol 24x7, and that eats up a lot of manpower.”

  Pete agreed. “I was a cop for years. We’re going to have to train a police force of some kind. We will probably need judges, too. I don’t want to re-create the legal system mess we had before, but people are people, and conflicts are bound to arise.”

  Bishop stared into the distance for a while before remarking, “I know where there are a lot of cops. I can’t comment on their attitude, but there’s a whole bunch of them about an hour’s drive from here.” Bishop went on to explain about the Wal-Mart Distribution Center he had come across while walking to Fort Bliss. “The parking lot was full of police cars from several different departments. They were pretty smart taking over that place when everything went to hell.”

  “Maybe we should go and invite them to join our ever more prosperous community,” suggested Terri. “Maybe they would welcome a chance to live normal lives again.”

  Bishop was skeptical. “That little diplomatic mission would require some planning. I got the distinct impression that those guys were operating under ‘a shoot first, ask questions later,’ principle. You might be right, but we would have to be cautious.”

  Betty added, “I’ve got a feeling that diplomacy is going to become an important skill in the near future.” Everyone had to agree.

  The conversation continued late into the night before a yawning Bishop excused himself. “My apologies for being such a lightweight, but these medications kick my butt. I’ll see everyone in the morning. Nite.”

  Bishop’s exit broke up the gathering, but not before Terri had compiled a very strong list of the group’s priorities.

  It took Alpha’s sole living mechanic a full day to restore the squad car to running order. While the town’s police department normally boasted nine functional law enforcement vehicles, most of them were beyond salvaging due to a variety of reasons associated with the collapse of society.

  Four had been wrecked, their drivers obviously succumbing to the toxic gas while traveling at a high rate of speed. Many of Alpha’s residents had fallen victim to similar circumstances as the town’s streets were still littered with the crumpled remains of an assortment of cars and trucks.

  Three were simply too gross for anyone to attempt repairs. Officers on duty had died in their cars and had remained inside, their decomposing flesh rotting for months in the torrid Texas sun. Maggots had discovered the decaying carcasses and done their work, the chemicals from their larva adding to the destruction of plastic and metal inside the vehicles.

  The remaining two cruisers were newer models, equipped with fresher seals, bearings, and more modern engines. But restoring even these more desirable units posed additional issues. While Alpha was in complete anarchy, scavengers had taken to spiking fuel tanks in order to access the precious gasoline stored within. Anti-siphoning devices, time, and general laziness had promoted the destructive habit that left all otherwise undamaged transportation worthless. Despite their relatively low mileage, any machine that sits unused for a protracted period of time requires extensive efforts to restore.

  Once the two patrol cars had been located, one was stripped for spare parts – critical organ donations for its sibling. Eventually the mechanic had pronounced the remaining cruiser “good as new.”

  Of all the priorities discussed the night of the barbecue, it had been decided that obtaining a police force should be tops on the list. The false alarm at Meraton and T-Bones’ robbery all contributed to the decision. Nick felt like his security volunteers would have more time for training if they didn’t have to police Alpha’s streets alone.

  Bishop and Nick were like two schoolboys, readying to give the car a test drive. Neither man had driven a high performance vehicle in ages, and the general lack of traffic anywhere added to their anticipated delight. Nick won the coin toss, awarded the first session behind the wheel while Bishop was relegated to the passenger seat, the promised consolation prize consisting of controlling the lights and siren.

  Deacon Brown was the spoiler. “Before you two young men go out and get into trouble, I want you to keep in mind one very important fact. The gasoline you burn is a critical resource to everyone here. It is life and death to all of us. So I trust you’ll each keep cool heads and not be wasteful.”

  Standing beside Diana with her arms crossed, Terri added her voice of reason. “Bishop, you’re not even close to 100% yet. If you wrap that fancy car around a telephone pole, I’m not taking you back to Fort Bliss to be patched up again. I am pregnant, and that is not an excursion I intend to make after a sophomoric joy ride gone bad. You sir, are an expectant father, and I expect you will act like one.”

  Both men assured the girls that they would be calm and reasonable, that a test drive was critical before their journey. After all, they would not want to risk a mechanical breakdown in the desert.

  Nick started the powerful machine and pulled out of the church lot like a little, old lady leaving Sunday morning services. The two girls stood and watched the car’s progress, neither of them believing for one moment that the guys were going to take it easy.

  “I’ll bet you lunch they have that thing at top speed before they’re out of the city limits,” offered Terri.

  “No bet,” Diana responded with a grin. “I saw the look in Nick’s eyes.”

  Terri grinned, nodding her agreement. “It’s okay – they need to have a little fun. I don’t know about you and Nick, but for Bishop and me, the overwhelming task of getting society back on track can be a real killjoy sometimes. In a way, it’s kind of cute how they act like teenagers now and then.”

  The two women started to turn back toward the church compound when the report of squealing tires and a revving engine sounded in the distance.

  Terri glanced at Diana and flatly stated, “Dang. I wish you had taken that bet.”

  Bishop couldn’t help himself. Despite his bravado-based promise that he wouldn’t react to Nick’s driving, no matter what his friend did, he had to reach up and grab the “oh-shit handle” located over the passenger window and stabilize his body. He was thankful his right arm still functioned.

  After leaving the church, Nick resisted temptation a full six blocks before issuing a warning to Bishop. “Hang on,” he cautioned. Those two words served as the only advance notice for a change in venue. And before Bishop could even inhale, the big man had floored the accelerator. The police car was fast… very fast. The machine had managed 90 miles an hour within seconds. Nick then slammed on the brakes and negotiated a screeching turn that Bishop was sure lifted the car up onto two wheels.

  In short order, they were out of Alpha and on open road, Nick’s foot never losing contact with the gas pedal. “How fast so far?” Bishop yelled over the racing engine and rushing wind.

  “A mere 138 and climbing,” was Nick’s calm response.

  Bishop whistled and then remembered the lights and siren. He flicked the switches and then sat back, a huge grin on his face.

  Nick was smiling as well, glancing over at his partner in crime while yelling, “And this is how we roll!”

  A few miles outside of town, Nick let off the gas and announced, “This bad boy made it to 146. Gotta love a well-tuned V8.” Letting the car coast for a bit, Nick slammed on the brakes and cut the wheel sharply. The squad car turned and slid, eventually coming to a complete stop pointed back at Alpha and leaving two stripes of smoldering rubber in the road. “Your turn, partner.”

  Bishop and Nick exchanged places, and to the surprise of his friend, Bishop put the car in gear and slowly accelerated back toward Alpha. “My 95-year-old grandma drives faster than this to church on Sundays. Is something wrong with the car?” Nick asked.

  “Not that I know of,” replied Bishop. “I just want to get a feel for he
r. I’m not as much of a gearhead as some people I know.”

  Bishop stayed well below the speed limit until they rolled into the edge of town. Once back to civilization, the driver came to a complete stop at an intersection and glanced at Nick. “Rides nice,” was his only comment.

  Nick was just about to tease Bishop when the motorist revved the engine hard while still holding his foot on the brake. Huge clouds of black smoke rolled from the car’s rear wheels, the smell of burning rubber filling the interior. Bishop wiggled the steering wheel just slightly; the movement causing the back end to sway like it was dancing. When the rear wheels drifted to the left, Bishop let off the brake and cut the steering hard, causing the car to literally leap into a right hand turn. The g-force slammed Nick against his seatbelt, the strain eliciting a grunt.

  Blazing down the abandoned side street, Bishop maneuvered through a series of twisting turns and hard braking that strained every bolt and seam of the police car – and the passenger. After three minutes, Nick was sweating, breathing hard, and holding onto the safety handle with both hands. When Bishop finally stopped, Nick looked over with wide eyes and exclaimed, “That was fun! Let’s do it again!”

  Bishop grinned, ready to agree but then the gas needle caught his eye. Tapping the dash with his finger, Bishop sighed and said, “We better not. We’re probably in enough trouble as it is.”

  “Damned women. Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.”

  Bishop nodded, “Especially the ones who carry a pistol and can shoot.”

  The two wannabe racecar drivers returned to find the girls standing on the front steps of the church, disapproving scowls on their faces. Diana’s arms were crossed while Terri’s hands resided on her hips.

  “We’re in the shit now, bro,” observed Bishop.

  “If you had just a little more frontal lobe development - at least I committed my sins out of earshot.”

  Bishop threw his friend a look of “Yeah, right,” and then opened the car door.

  “Hi, honey,” Bishop cooed, attempting to make his voice as innocent as possible.

  “What’s up?” Nick asked Diana.

  The two women looked at each other, and Terri rolled her eyes. Without further comment, the pair pivoted and strutted with purpose back inside the church. After a suitable period for cooling off, the two guilty men sucked it up and went looking for their mates.

  “Does the church have a doghouse?” Bishop inquired.

  “Not that I’ve noticed, but not to worry. There’s plenty of empty housing around town.”

  “We could always go stay with the contractors over at the hotel. At least the conversation would be interesting.”

  Eventually the duo found their significant others searching through boxes of clothing, the items collected from unoccupied homes and sorted by size for newcomers.

  “We need to look professional,” explained Terri.

  “You don’t want us look like just any old off-the-street politicians, do you?” added Diana.

  Thirty minutes later, the four members of the Alpha Chamber of Commerce were on their way to visit the Warlords of Wal-Mart. Unlike the typical pre-collapse business meeting, all four of the visitors were heavily armed, Nick in full combat load – just in case.

  The drive via unused, smooth Texas highway was much quicker than Bishop’s previous trip on foot. He joked to Terri, “This cheapens the entire affair. You guys don’t know how much you’re missing by not suffering through the pedestrian route.”

  Terri replied, “Thirst, hunger, insects, and bullets all come to mind. I’ll stick with the quickie tour, thank you very much.”

  The I-10 exit used to access the huge distribution center contained scattered remnants of abandoned cars and trucks. In the daylight, Bishop noted the roadway clutter didn’t look nearly as ominous as it had when he came this way at night.

  “I’m pretty sure these guys have the road booby-trapped, Nick. Proceed with caution.”

  “You had better get out and clear it for me,” suggested Nick. “Just in case.”

  Bishop exited the back seat and began walking in front of the police cruiser. They hadn’t rolled more than a few hundred feet when Bishop discovered the first tripwire. Tracing it back to the source, he found it connected to a roadside flare and easily disabled the device.

  One additional early warning system was discovered before it was time to leave the interstate and proceed along the surface road to the warehouse.

  Diana turned on the strobe lights when they were within observation distance of the giant building. “Just to make sure they think we’re cops,” she commented.

  “Are you sure there wasn’t a doughnut delivery truck available in Alpha?” Bishop asked. “We could have at least set a box of chocolate frosted on the hood as a sacrificial offering. I’m sure they would smell it from here.”

  Nick slowed the car as they approached a sign in the middle of the road. It read, “No food, no water, and no barter. Stay away or you will be shot without question.”

  While Nick paused to let everyone read the warning, Bishop tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the side of the road. Two human skulls and a scattered assortment of other bleached skeletal remains littered the area. “They mean business,” was his only comment.

  The roofline of the complex was barely visible on the horizon. Nick judged its distance to be at least 1200 meters, the assessment eliciting a whistle. “If they have sharpshooters who can acquire a human target at 1200, they’re damned good. That would take at least a .50 caliber weapon.”

  Bishop replied, “I remember seeing a SWAT van parked in the lot. It wouldn’t surprise me if they had lots of long-range toys on hand.”

  The four agreed to continue, hoping that the police vehicle and flashing lights would grant them safe passage. At 600 meters, everyone began to relax.

  “I’m telling ya,” Bishop offered, “doughnuts would be like a passport to these guys. Are you sure you don’t want to go back and fry some up?”

  At 200 meters, they could see activity around the building. While it didn’t look like anyone was rolling out the red carpet, no sniper bullets slammed into the car.

  “How do you expect them to react when they realize we’re not cops?” asked Diana.

  “Depends. Does anyone here even smell like a glazed or sprinkled?” Bishop muttered. Terri leaned across the seat and whispered, “Which arm hurts, Bishop?”

  “Hmmm… I plead the fifth.”

  Terri hit his right shoulder anyway.

  Nick grunted, “Hopefully some of the paranoia is gone by now. They aren’t exactly on the scenic route, and other than Bishop’s little raid, they probably haven’t had visitors for months.”

  The facility was surrounded by a heavy gauge fence with the access blocked by a gate made of similar wire mesh. The access was closed and guarded by six eager-looking, young men covering the car with AR15 rifles.

  Nick parked about 50 feet away and took the cruiser out of gear. Before Bishop could stop her, Terri opened the door and stepped out of the car. “I’ve got this,” she announced.

  Nick and Bishop reached for their door handles, but Diana stopped them. “You guys getting out in all that gear is going to freak their cookies. Stay put. They’re not going to shoot Terri without any warning.”

  Nick rolled down the windows so they could at least listen.

  Terri had ventured about ten steps toward the gate when one of the men yelled out, “Can’t you read, lady? That sign back there was pretty clear. We don’t welcome trespassers here.”

  “My name is Terri, and I have the mayor of Alpha, Texas with me. We’ve come to make you gentlemen an offer… an offer you might want to seriously consider.”

  The men at the gate didn’t seem impressed. “What could you possibly offer us?”

  “A job... employment… a home… schools for your children. You remember all that stuff, don’t you? Society? Friends? A purpose in life.”

  For a ti
me, several of the guards looked at each other and their leader, a few hushed comments being exchanged. Bishop couldn’t hear their conversation, but it was clear Terri’s statement was of interest to the men.

  “Wait right there, and instruct your friends to stay in the car.”

  A few moments later, a man exited the building and strolled casually toward the gate. Bishop would have identified the fellow as a lawman immediately, even without his Stetson hat adorned with a shiny star on the front.

  The ramrod straight gentleman was slender, but not skinny. Probably close to 6’4” in height, his weathered face surrounded eyes that spoke of having seen just about everything and not been troubled by any of it. His walk betrayed confidence with a grace of authority, but showed no indication of abuse. Here’s the guy that’s in charge, thou

  ght Bishop. Here’s the man who is holding all of this together.

  The newcomer walked directly to the fence and tipped his hat to Terri. “Ma’am, I’m Sheriff Watts. What can I do for you?”

  “Nice to meet you, Sheriff.” Terri turned and indicated the car before she continued. “We drove here from Alpha. The town has reorganized and is in the early stages of recovery. We have electrical power and rule of law. We’re growing so quickly that we need trained, professional law enforcement. My husband was aware of your location, so we decided to travel here and see if you or some members of your group would be interested in helping us rebuild Alpha and Meraton.”

  “You have electrical power?”

  “Yes, we have restarted the windmill generators south of Alpha. The town has organized schools, medical care, and other essentials. We need policemen who are part of the community. The mayor of Alpha is in that car. I’m sure you would enjoy speaking with her.”

  “Her? I met the mayor of Alpha a few years back. That office was held by a man.”

  Terri nodded, “Many of the townspeople died in a horrible accident right when the country was falling into the abyss. There’s a new group of citizens trying to build something special there.”