“Look around,” she said. “Look at the person standing next to you. Look at the person standing next to them. Know what we are? We are it, folks. It’s pretty obvious that no one is coming to rescue us. We’re not anywhere close to home. If anyone is going to defend our town, it’s going to have to be us.”
A few of the gathered townsfolk smiled. One of them, a grizzled old-timer named Huck, saluted. “Live free or die!”
A cheer went up. This was why she loved New Hampshire. The state motto wasn’t just a motto, it was a belief. “Live free or die,” she said. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
She motioned to the four armed squads. “You all will patrol the town. Check houses for anyone still in hiding. Make note of anything unusual, but do not approach. And watch out for...invaders. Keep at least a half mile from the border.” She looked at the remaining townsfolk. “The rest of you are on clean up duty. That includes repairing damages and removing wasp carcasses. We are going to do this together, in shifts. From this point on, no one walks the streets of Refuge alone. At least not until we—”
“What’s the point?” a woman’s voice asked from the rear of the group. Frost leaned over and was surprised to see the woman Dodge had introduced as Sally Field staring back at her with a wild look on her face.
“The point, Sally,” she replied, “is defense. Protection. We don’t want anyone else to die.”
“No one else to die?” The woman barked a laugh. Her voice had a slight hysterical edge to it. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re all going to die, anyway. Every last one of us.”
“Hold on, Jillian,” Dodge said. “You don’t know—”
Jillian? So that’s her real name.
“Don’t be stupid, Pastor.” Jillian threw her rifle on the ground, and Frost wondered who had given her the weapon. She certainly didn’t seem fit to wield a butter knife, never mind a semi-automatic rifle.
“The next shift is just going to dump us somewhere worse. There could be dinosaurs! Zombies! Maybe fucking vampires!”
She stormed to the front of the group and stood directly in front of Frost, her eyes wide, her skin sweaty and pale. Frost thought the woman looked like she might pass out at any moment.
“Calm down, Sal—Jillian,” Frost said. “That’s why we’re arming the town. Sticking together. No one will be left without protection.”
“Protection? Protection? You saw those wasps!” Jillian shouted. “They were bigger than my dog! You saw those trees! What happens when we shift to a world with wolves the size of buildings? Or spiders the size of the Sears Tower?”
Frost was glad she and Griffin had kept the carnivorous nature of those trees from the general population. No one they knew had been killed by them. Ignorance was bliss, though in this case, it might be the only thing keeping the insanity at bay. But that didn’t seem to be the case with Jillian.
“How are you going to protect us against that?” Jillian shouted. “We can’t fight those with rifles. We aren’t even people anymore, we’re just meat! Meat!”
“Jillian,” Dodge began.
“Meat! We’re just meat.” Jillian was laughing now.
Definitely hysterical, Frost thought. But the woman’s words were already having a demoralizing effect on the rest of the group. Several other residents were staring at her with expressions that suggested similar thoughts. She had to stop this. Now.
“Pastor,” she said to Dodge, “Why don’t you take Jillian to the library. See if you can help her rest.” It felt strange suggesting Dodge take someone to the library, but no one wanted to be in the church anymore. It also felt odd to suggest Dodge be alone with the strange woman, after most had assumed he was having an affair with her. But Frost no longer thought that was the case. Despite his fearful response to the first shift, Dodge had shown himself to be trustworthy, brave and aptly enough, righteous. She didn’t think Dodge would sleep with a married woman, though he had yet to reveal why the woman had been with him at all.
Dodge shouldered his rifle and moved toward Jillian, trying to speak in soothing tones. He held out his hand to her. “Come on, Jillian,” he said. “You just need to lie down for a bit. Things will look better after you’ve had some rest. The Lord knows, we all could use some rest.”
Jillian looked at Dodge’s outstretched hand and bolted.
“Meat!” she screamed as she ran. “We’re all just meat!”
Loomis tried to tackle her, but she sidestepped him and took off, heading down Main Street, screaming the word ‘meat’ over and over again. She was surprisingly fast, fueled by mania, and she disappeared over the crest of the hill a moment later. If she keeps going...
“Loomis,” she snapped. “Pick a team and come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
Frost pointed in the direction Jillian had run. “After her.”
Loomis hesitated. “But...”
“Everyone in this town is my responsibility now. If you don’t want to help us—”
Loomis held up his hands. “I’m on it. I’m on it.”
“Dodge, take the rest of the people and—”
“No,” Dodge said.
Did he just say no?
“Pastor,” she said, “I thought you and Rule had an agree—”
“Jillian was my responsibility, before she became yours,” he said. “Lucifer himself couldn’t stop me from coming.”
Frost looked at the distant, barren landscape and said, just loud enough for Dodge to hear, “If we run into him out there, he’s all yours.”
She looked at the man, reassessing him for what had to the be the tenth time since things had gone haywire. Like most in town, he was a dedicated hunter. During deer season, he led a men’s group out into the woods to pray and shoot. The season ended with a potluck of venison dishes. He was probably good at tracking, too.
“Fine,” she said. “But you do what I say.”
Dodge nodded. “You’re the sheriff.”
“The rest of you,” she said, “get started cleaning up the wasps. Set up a fire in the lot behind Jimmy’s.” She winced after saying it. Jimmy was well known and well liked. And while his death meant she could turn the lot into a bonfire, it might not sit well with some.
She was about to address the elephant she’d just allowed into the room, when old ‘live free or die’ Huck spoke up, saying, “Jimmy’d want it that way. Being helpful from beyond the grave.”
“Thanks,” she said, and then asked. “Mind keeping watch while I’m gone?”
“It’d be my pleasure,” Huck said, with a half-toothed grin.
With that settled, she turned to Dodge and Loomis, and their five-man group. She knew them all: Jarvis Brent, Matthew Silver, Bill Meeks, Anthony Grimm, and Tucker Marshall. All good men. “Okay, guys. Let’s get her back, quick.”
3
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Lisa said, looking over her shoulder. The driveway and the street beyond looked clear, but she always felt nervous being inside Radar’s house. Not that the garage was really inside the house, but it wasn’t unusual for Mr. Wilson to tinker in the garage, and she didn’t think he’d take too kindly to them messing around with his things. Not only that, Griffin had asked them to help out around town, but they’d just snuck away instead, which kind of meant they were doubly not supposed to be here.
“It’s my moped,” Radar said, pouring gasoline into the open tank.
“But it’s his gas, right?”
“It takes like a gallon,” Radar said, slowing the pour. “He’ll never kn—”
The scuff of a foot on pavement turned their heads back to the torn up driveway.
“Charley,” Radar said, standing up quickly and spilling some gas.
Charley Wilson stood silently in the driveway, eyeing them both. Lisa could tell that Charley was sober, in part because he hadn’t shouted yet, but she’d never really seen him lucid. She had no idea how this would go.
Charley nodded. “Boy.”
&nb
sp; Relief swept through Lisa, as Charley took a step toward the side door.
“I have a name,” Radar said.
Lisa spun toward Radar, her eyes wide. What was he thinking?
Charley stopped short of the door. “‘Scuse me?”
Radar looked down at the rusty old green moped. Lisa recognized the face. He was going to back down. Apologize. And thank God for that. She didn’t think she could handle a Charley Wilson meltdown. Not after what they’d seen and survived. Not after losing her family. As much as Radar helped her feel safe, his father scared her more than any of the worlds they had visited.
But then Radar’s expression changed. He looked...angry. Straight at his father. Angry!
“I said, ‘I have a name.’”
Charley’s hand fell away from the door. He tried making fists with both hands, but when the fingers of his bandaged hand flexed, he winced, which only made him angry.
Radar approached him. “Do you even remember my name?”
Charley didn’t move, but his face twitched with raw fury. Radar had never spoken to him like this before.
“Radar,” Charley said. “I—”
“That’s not my name,” Radar said. “You ought to remember it. You gave it to me. It was your father’s name.”
The anger in Charley’s eyes softened. “Josh... I’m...I’m sorry.”
Lisa’s hand went to her mouth. She felt like she was witnessing some kind of a miracle.
“That’s the best you’re going to get out of me today,” Charley said, opening the screen door. He looked past Radar, into the garage. Eyed Lisa, and then the moped. “Wear helmets.”
He stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him.
When Radar turned around, he had tears in his eyes. His hands shook. Lisa hurried to him, eyes on the door, half expecting it to burst open at any moment. She took Radar’s hands and squeezed them. He sniffed and placed his head on her shoulder. The brief connection seemed to calm him. He lifted his head again and looked her in the eyes. “Maybe there’s hope for him?”
“Maybe,” she said, but she thought, I doubt it.
Radar screwed the cap back on the moped’s gas tank. He pointed to a large, white helmet that looked like half an egg. “You can use that.”
“What about you?”
“We only have one.” He shrugged. “I’ll drive carefully.”
He pushed the moped down the driveway and into the sloped street. Motion over at Griffin’s house caught his attention. It was Cash, putting his tools in the back of a car. After closing the trunk, he approached Radar and said, “Handled that well, kid. Not many people in town would stand up to your dad like that.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve seen worse now.”
“Ayup, ‘spose we all have.”
Lisa still disagreed. The monsters they’d seen, even the wasps that had stung Carol, seemed unreal and distant compared to Charley Wilson. He was the monster that wouldn’t go away each time the church bell rang. He’s the monster we’re stuck with.
“If you see Griff,” Cash said, “Let him know he’s on the new grid.”
“I’m not sure where he is,” Radar said, “but I’ll let him know, if I see him.”
Cash gave a nod and headed back toward his car. “Good luck with the moped, kid.”
“You shouldn’t have lied to him,” Lisa whispered. “It might be a good idea if someone knows where we’re going, in case...”
Radar swung his leg over the moped and sat down. Its old, spring shocks creaked under his weight. “We’ll be fine. I’m not the wimpy kid I used to be.” He turned the moped on, took his feet off the pavement and began furiously peddling. “Don’t I look tough?”
Lisa laughed. He looked ridiculous. But then the engine coughed a black cloud and buzzed to life. Radar drove down the street, turned around and came back. He stopped next to her, a cocky smile on his face.
“I’m totally badass, right?”
Still laughing, Lisa put on her helmet and climbed on the moped’s seat behind Radar. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, probably tighter than she needed to. “What if they catch us?”
“What are they going to do?” he asked. “Ground us? Besides, I’m the one who figured out the name. And we have a right to know what’s going on. They can’t exclude us, just because we’re kids.”
Lisa wasn’t sure if that was true, but if Radar wanted to find out what was going on, she’d support him. That’s what good couples did, right? Carol would do the same for Winslow. Probably for a stranger, the woman was so sweet. And Frost would support Griffin. They weren’t really a couple, but they had a better relationship than most of the married folks in town. And if Lisa followed their lead, she would follow Radar, wherever he went. No matter what.
4
Charley Wilson settled into his pea-soup green recliner. It was worn and frayed, but God-dang, it fit his ass like a glove. He sighed, lifted the cold beer in his good hand, fingernail digging beneath the can’s pop-top. But he stopped short of opening it.
He did stupid things when he drank.
He knew that.
Everyone knew that.
And if he drank one, it would quickly become ten. And then... At least I don’t have my truck any more. Can’t wreck what you don’t have. He shook his head, remembering the fate of his truck. Frost had recovered it from the depot, driven straight past him, parked in the Soucey’s parking lot and attached the sheriff station’s only wheel-boot to the driver’s side tire. She’d tossed the keys to him as she headed back to the station and said, “Stay sober, and maybe I’ll let you drive again.”
But there was still plenty he could ruin, even without the truck, starting with his son’s life. Near as he could tell, the kid had found some source of resilience that didn’t involve alcohol or treachery. Might have been the first Wilson boy in generations to pull that one off.
But if the boy could pull it off, why couldn’t Charley? Despite his obvious failings as a father, his notoriety as the town drunk, and T-boning Frost and Griffin on his way to Ellison’s, they had treated him fairly. More than fairly. They took his truck, but they could have locked him up again. He looked at his broken hand, wrapped in a bandage.
He’d paid his dues, hadn’t he? He had saved his son and Lisa, and Griffin’s girl, when that...giant bird-thing had attacked them. He wasn’t sure if he would have had the courage without the booze in his system. But he’d also stood up to those pricks at the Guard depot. Granted, his silence had been meant to protect his own ass, but to the others, he’d been tortured on their behalf and he’d taken it like a man.
More than a man.
Like a hero.
He looked at the beer again. It was an escape. A weakness. And it was going to get someone killed. Probably me, he thought. And while Charley was a drunk, angry man, he had no desire to die, primarily because he believed the pits of hell awaited him.
And that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?
A knock on the side door froze Charley’s thoughts.
Had the boy come back? He found himself feeling hopeful he’d see his son again. He’d tell the boy that he was turning over a new leaf. He stood quickly, leaving the beer on the TV tray. When he entered the kitchen, the silhouette through the door’s shaded window was clearly not Radar.
Only one person in town had curves like that.
“What do you want, Barnes?” he asked, as he opened the door.
Julie Barnes looked like a supermodel on most days, but today, her furrowed brow and cold eyes were enough to keep Charley’s libido in check. “You didn’t talk to him, did you?”
Charley held up his hand. “No, but I had a nice chat with his friends at the Guard depot.”
“And?”
“They were even more in the dark than us. But Griff went to find the old man with Winslow. Maybe they’ll—”
Julie’s face reddened. The lady was a powder keg. “And you didn’t go with them?”
“Tried
,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly a member of the town’s A-Team.”
“You and me both,” she muttered. “Then I need to know what you do.”
“Which is about the same as you.”
“C’mon,” she said. “You dug up dirt on most everyone who wasn’t playing along with the retrofit, except for Griffin—”
“You didn’t have much luck with him, either,” Charley said.
Julie rolled her eyes. “The point is, you did a lot of digging... Nothing stood out as unusual?”
“What about this isn’t unusual?”
“Look, you and I both know that there were...changes made to this town.”
“Doesn’t mean I know where to look, any more than you do,” Charley said. “But...it would have to be someplace far enough removed that no one would notice the work being done.” He really had no clue, but thought if he threw her a bone, she might get off his porch.
Julie’s forehead furrowed for a moment. “What about the farm?”
“Green Meadow? Never went there.”
She squinted. “Neither did I. Who owns it?”
“Hell if I know. The Byrnes sold it going on four years ago. Never met the new owner.”
“Then that’s where I’m headed.”
She turned to leave, but Charley caught her arm. She turned and leveled an icy glare at him. He released her quickly. He’d never been told, but he knew she was something more than a real estate agent. He didn’t know what, but that look in her eyes told him he didn’t want to find out.
He cleared his throat. “If you find the old man—”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
“And the last,” he added. “If we can undo this shit, I’d prefer folks didn’t know we helped kick it off.”
“You mean you don’t want your son to know,” she said, and then grinned. “I don’t think there are any Father-of-the-Year awards in your future, Charley. If you hear anything in the next few hours, you’ll know where to find me.”
Refuge Book 4 - Ashes and Dust Page 2
