by Steven Smith
"Oh, Jim, I'll be okay here. I'm here by myself all the time when he runs into town or to the sale barn."
Jim shook his head. "It's a different world, Mary. We'll pick you up in the morning."
The rest of the afternoon was spent checking the Eddington's place, where they still found no one, and installing more surveillance cameras at Stonemont.
Kelly had the Garners moved into the guest house, where they had given the place a quick cleaning and put on new bed linens. Mike had spent his time identifying potential shooting positions around the compound and scouting the property for likely attack channels, making mental notes on how to fortify the former and tactically manage the latter.
When they gathered that evening for dinner, Jim explained their trip to Topeka the next day. Though Kelly was worried, she understood the need, and knew she would want someone to try to get her kids out if things were reversed. She gave him one piece of advice: “Don't get killed.”
Mike and Bill would remain at Stonemont and continue weapons training while Kelly, Ann and Tracy would start an inventory of food and supplies in the bunker. The reality of the new world was setting in.
6
At first light, Mike, who had taken third watch, awakened Jim and Christian. Within a half hour they were headed to the Samuels' and a half hour after that had dropped Mary off at Stonemont and were headed west.
The rising sun threw long shadows ahead of them as they kept their speed around sixty. The blacktop back roads were in good shape and the lack of other traffic made it easy to keep their speed up, as generations of Kansas kids with pickups had long known.
They passed through Baldwin City without incident and continued west on 56 Highway. Everything seemed normal except for the lack of even the minimal normal traffic and the absence of the glow of mercury vapor lights that usually illuminated the farm and ranch buildings a short distance off the roads. Cattle and horses grazed the tall green grass, corn and wheat fields were beginning to show their colors, and an occasional farmer or rancher could be seen walking to or from a house or barn. As the shadows in front of them started to shorten, they came to Highway 75 where they turned north toward Topeka.
Driving north, they began to see traces of smoke coming from chimneys. Almost all farmhouses, old and new, had fireplaces, and the older ones had fireplaces and wood stoves still in the kitchens. More people could be seen walking around, and at one point an old GMC pickup pulled out of a side road and passed them going south with a wave.
As they approached the town of Lyndon, Jim slowed to forty miles an hour. The houses were closer together here, with many properties running from a couple of acres to ten or twenty rather than the hundreds of acres of the rural farms and ranches.
As they passed through Lyndon, they drove slower still. Everything seemed normal, if you forgot that all the cars had been parked in their current positions since the event. Jim was sure that many had stalled out while driving, but small-town people were the kind that pushed them out of the way and into a parking spot. He knew the cities would not look like this.
They saw a number of older vehicles driving around, as well as a couple of tractors and one riding lawnmower, and the looks they got were only those given to obvious strangers on any normal day.
They picked up speed as they left Lyndon and within twenty minutes were entering Carbondale, another small town, though bigger than Lyndon. Carbondale was much like Lyndon, with a bit more pedestrian traffic and a few more running vehicles. They drove slowly through the town, drawing the normal stranger stares, when Jim slowed down even more. "Look up ahead."
Christian and Ralph switched their attention from watching out the side windows to looking forward. A large Caterpillar back hoe was parked across the road just on the other side of the city limit sign. Several vehicles bracketed the Cat, and several men stepped out into the road. Two were wearing uniforms and were carrying rifles in addition to their side arms. The largest man was wearing a white Stetson and gave a wave that seemed friendly but obviously meant stop.
Jim stopped about twenty feet from the men, but kept the Excursion in gear with his foot on the brake. "Stay cool but be ready," he told the others.
The man in the Stetson walked slowly toward the Excursion as the other two men separated to cover each side. They held their rifle muzzles down, but were obviously ready.
Jim figured the man coming toward them to be about six foot four and two hundred and sixty pounds. He'd obviously eaten well the last few years, but still had the light step of forty pounds ago and the muscle to move it. Genetics and hard work grew them big in Kansas. As the man approached the driver's window, Jim could see the Sheriff Department patches on his shoulders and a gold star above the left breast pocket.
The man smiled and nodded as he stopped at Jim's window. "Morning, gentlemen. I'm Sheriff Freelove.” He looked inside the Excursion and saw the rifles. “I wanted to make sure you really wanted to go into Topeka before we moved our Cat out of your way. but it looks like you’re ready for what you might run into."
Jim nodded back. "Morning, Sheriff. I'm Jim Wyatt from Miami County, this is my nephew, Christian, and back there”, he gestured to the back seat, “is Ralph Samuels.” He motioned to the sheriff’s badge on Freelove’s shirt. “Christian and I both did the job in Jackson County, Missouri. We're headed into Topeka to bring Ralph's daughter, granddaughter and great-grandson out and back to their farm."
Sheriff Freelove nodded. “No offense. We just don’t know you and we’re being careful.”
Ralph’s voice came from the back seat. “No offense taken, Sheriff. We’re just getting to know you, too.”
Jim, Christian and the Sheriff all looked back at Ralph and saw he was holding his shotgun, not exactly at Sheriff Freelove, but definitely in his general direction.
Jim and Christian raised their eyebrows at each other and Freelove chuckled. "What part of town do they live in?"
"Southwest," Ralph replied. "Have you heard if there's any trouble around there?"
The Sheriff looked up the road as if he was trying to visualize Topeka from where he stood. He shook his head. "I haven't been up there myself, but the word I'm getting from some coming south is that the south side isn't too bad yet. Topeka PD and the Highway Patrol sealed the bridges, only allowing people to travel from where they don't live to where they do live. Of course, that was a couple of days ago and those guys may have gone home to their families, so things might have changed. Plus, the county jail is south of the river and they let the inmates out when they couldn't feed them anymore, so they're roaming around, and a lot of them aren't local so they have nowhere to go."
"You think there's any law enforcement at all?" asked Jim.
The Sheriff shrugged. "Hard to say. A lot of TPD officers live outside the city. We have several who live here and they all stayed home after the second day. I'd guess if there are any guys left up there it's not many."
Jim thought for a moment. "What's the roadblock for?"
"We want to be able to manage any refugees coming out of Topeka. This is the first step of what you might call our filter, to let decent folks through and keep the dregs out."
"Will there be any problem with us getting back through?"
The Sheriff straightened up and shook his head. "Nope. I'm your filter and you're good to go. Give me a minute and we'll get our Cat out of your way."
He turned away and walked over to the other man in uniform, talked for a minute, then returned. "Would there be any problem with my chief deputy going with you? We'd like to see for ourselves what's going on up there, and it wouldn't hurt for you to have a local uniform with you in case you run into any of the local boys, not to mention having another gun."
Jim shook his head. "No problem at all. We'll be happy to have him. He can take the seat behind me so we'll have a non-driving AR on both sides." Jim nodded up the road. "Anything special between here and Topeka?"
The Sheriff motioned for his chief deputy to join
them. "Not really. You'll see the exit for Forbes Field up a ways on the right. I'm sure the airport's closed, but there's an Air National Guard unit stationed there. From what I hear, they've secured the base and don't come out. I'd say if you don't mess with them, they probably won't mess with you. Just stay on seventy-five into Topeka."
As the chief deputy came up, Sheriff Freelove made the introductions. "Glen, this is Jim and Christian in front. They’re both former deputies from Missouri. Back there is shotgun Ralph." He laughed. "His muzzle kind of wanders around, so I'd be careful.” He nodded his head at the deputy. “Gentlemen, this is Glen Davis, my chief deputy. He knows Topeka pretty well, so he ought to be a help."
The deputy returned nods, climbed into the back seat and got settled as they waited for Freelove to get the Cat moved. When the way was clear, they returned Freelove's wave and continued north on highway seventy-five, following the western jag until they entered the suburbs of Topeka.
Things were starting to look different, with more people visible. Small groups walked the streets and larger groups milled around in the parking lots of strip malls, many of which had obviously been looted. No vehicles were moving, and the looks they received were different than what they had seen in the small towns. They could see the smoke from a number of fires to the north, and the sound of breaking glass drew their attention to a group of men entering a hardware store.
"Inmates from county," said Glen, recognizing the apparel from the Shawnee County Jail.
Jim pulled the Excursion into the parking lot, but stopped well back from the groups of people by the stores. Most of the businesses had already been sacked, and the remaining probably would be soon. He looked in the rearview mirror at the deputy. "You're the law here, Glen. It's your call."
Glen thought for a moment and shook his head. "This is probably going on all over. I don't think we're at the point of shooting looters, and we don't have any place to put them. Plus, dealing with this stuff will hold us up from getting to Shotgun's family. Let's go."
Jim nodded and pulled back onto the road, following Ralph's directions toward southwest Topeka. The scene remained pretty much the same as they passed more strip malls and businesses. As they turned a corner, Christian pointed up a hill ahead of them. "Black and white," he said, indicating a Topeka PD patrol car angled in the roadway at the top of the hill
Jim drove up the hill, slowing down as they got closer and stopped about twenty feet away from the squad car. The car was angled away from the curb, putting its driver's side toward them, and the trunk was open.
"Christian, Ralph, you're security while Glen and I check this out."
They got out and Christian and Ralph took positions to each side of the Excursion while Jim and Glen slowly approached the police vehicle. They soon caught the smell of decomposition that both of them recognized.
As Glen walked around the front of the car, he stopped. "Here he is."
Jim walked around the rear of the car until he saw the body. The officer lay curled up, clad only in boxer shorts and socks. Several days of heat and wild animals had left few identifying features, except for the assumption that it had been a male due to size, boxers and hair length. A pool of dark, congealed blood had collected in a low spot in the pavement about a foot from his body, the blood run beginning under his torso. Most of it had seeped through the blacktop or been lapped up by animals, but the stain and a small amount of sludge remained.
Jim nodded, looking around. "So somehow, they got the jump on him, gut shot him, took his uniform and left him here to bleed out. Which means there's a cop killer around here somewhere, maybe wearing a police uniform."
Glen nodded. "Looks that way." He went back to the car and got in, looking around. "Ignition's on. Light bar is activated." He thought for a moment and looked ahead. About ten yards up was a battered blue pickup sitting on the shoulder.
Exiting the patrol car, he walked to the pickup. An expired Nebraska license plate was hung on the bumper by some wire. In the bed were an assortment of rusted tools, tow chains, empty beer cans and a bald spare tire. A bumper sticker on the back window said "OUTLAW". Inside the cab was the usual trash he'd seen in hundreds of dirt bag car stops. Something whispered to him inside his head and he walked back to the patrol car.
He stood at the open driver's door for a minute, looking in and trying to hear what the whisper was telling him. Suddenly, it clicked. This was a two-man car. The way the computer was positioned told him that.
Walking around to the passenger side, he opened the door and looked inside. Laying on the floor was a small spiral notebook, the kind many cops carried for personal notes instead of the larger pads they kept for official notes and court reference.
Glen opened the notebook to find neat, obviously female handwriting. He looked inside the front and back covers for a name but found none. Leafing through the pages he found it to be a collection of lists, appointments and personal thoughts like "Capt. is an idiot." He flipped to the last entry. "Matt asked me out again. Maybe. Pulling over blue PU. shit everything off". The last words were scribbled uncharacteristically and was the last entry. He looked up. "Jim."
Jim walked over to Glen, who handed him the notebook. "It looks like there was a second officer. A female."
Jim looked through the notebook, also reading the final entry. He handed it back to Glen. "If they took her, I don't know how we could find her." He looked around, thinking and noticing that several acres of woods lay at the bottom of the slope down from the road. "But if this happened right at the time of the event ... if it was me, I'd want to get off the road as quick as I could, especially with a prisoner." He nodded his head at the trees. "Let's go take a look."
They made their way down the embankment, looking carefully at the ground for any sign while watching the tree line. As they reached the trees, they saw what appeared to be a natural separation of vegetation leading into the woods and stepped into the relative cool of the shade, stopping to listen and let their eyes adjust to the dimmer light after removing their sunglasses.
They made their way slowly through the woods and found her in a small clearing about fifty yards in, hanging by her handcuffed wrists from a tree branch.
Her uniform was gone and her legs were dark with the post mortem pooling of blood. The unnatural paleness of her torso showed evidence of a savage beating and dried rivulets of blood ran down her legs to her feet, where droplets had fallen to the ground.
Both men stood there, enveloped in a crushing sadness tinged with anger.
Finally, Jim spoke. "I had hoped to never see anything like this again."
Glen nodded slowly. "Yeah."
Jim lifted the body, taking the weight off the cuffs while Glen unlocked them, then lowered the dead woman to the ground. He looked at her hands and wrists closely and tested the movement in her arms and legs, assessing the status of rigor. "She lasted a long time. I'd say she hung there alive for a couple of days. Probably died yesterday."
He had become inured to violence and human suffering as a young police officer, but had been able to regain most of his humanity years later. Sometimes he thought that when his hard shell had cracked it had exposed an inner empathy that was even greater than when it had first been lost.
He knelt by the dead officer, looking at her face and imagining the suffering she had endured; the fear, hopelessness, despair and loneliness she must have felt. Without thinking, he placed his hand on her head, stroking her hair back from her face. "God was with you in your suffering, little one. Now you are with him in his eternal love and peace." He looked at her for another moment, patted her head softly, then rose to his feet.
Glen was silent for a moment, then spoke. "You believe that? What you just said?”
Jim looked at him, then back at the woman and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I didn't always, but I do now."
Glen shook his head. "I've never seen anything like this. I've been a cop for over twenty years, and I've never seen anything like this." He looked at
Jim, his eyes showing his rage. "How can people ... anyone. ..." He stopped, not able to find the right words, unable to continue.
Jim knew how seeing something like this for the first time could affect a man. He had seen it change many men, destroying some. "There's no answer for that, Glen, except that there's evil in the world. We can't ignore it and we can't turn away from it. We have to face it, recognize it for what it is and fight it like we always have, because there's also good in the world, and the good is worth fighting for." He looked back at the body. "Come on, let's get her back to her partner."
They carried her back up to the road and told Christian and Ralph how they had found her. They had no way of burying the dead officers and nowhere to take them, so they put the female in the patrol car and covered the male with a blanket. Siphoning gasoline from the patrol car, they dowsed both it and the blanket and lit them.
They stood there for several minutes, watching the funeral pyres, quiet in their own thoughts, then turned away and returned to the Excursion.
They rode in silence, the only sounds being the tires on the road and Ralph's occasional direction to Jim. Beneath the silence lay a deep and growing anger at what they had seen and an increasing realization that this was now a world without law or even the civilized facade the law had tried to enforce. As they made the last turn, Ralph said "It's about half way up the block on the right side."
Jim pulled over and looked at the neighborhood. It was a new development of mostly two-story houses. Small trees were planted close to the curb in front of each house, and only a few cars were parked in driveways. He watched for a few minutes, looking for movement or anything that seemed out of place. Other than one man coming out of a house to smoke a cigarette and a border collie chasing something across a yard, everything was quiet.
Jim turned to the other men. "We'll drive up and back into the driveway like everything is normal. That will put the tailgate toward the garage for loading. Ralph, you go on up to the door and see if they're there. Christian, Glen and I will stay in the truck and watch the neighborhood. We don't want some good Samaritan with a rifle to think we're home invaders and take a shot at us. When you get in, open the garage door and we'll come in that way."
