Oil Apocalypse Collection

by Lou Cadle

  “It’s the only way to get used to doing it,” she said at the end. “You have to keep doing it. Ignore your fear. The worst thing that could happen to you is getting pecked, and usually they won’t draw blood.”

  “It hurts.”

  “There are a lot of things that hurt worse. Going hungry, for one. Do you keep the eggs inside?”

  “When we had extra, they were in the shed. But now we don’t have extra.”

  “Are you going hungry?” Sierra and Pilar could spare some eggs. Soon she’d have cockerels old enough to slaughter, but not quite yet.

  She left the girls to do their gardening alone and went to find Joan.

  When she found her, she got right to it. “I agree with you about Misha’s not being ready to learn how to shoot, but I’d like to have a chance to teach Emily, if she’d be willing to be around me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Sierra,” Joan said.

  “Maybe it would help her.”

  “Would it?”

  “Well, think about it. I or Kelly would be best as teachers. At least offer her the choice, would you?”

  “All right. I’ll do that.”

  Sierra started to walk away, but then turned and said one last thing. “Every girl deserves to know how dangerous she can be.”

  She returned home to clean her rifle, her father’s rifle, the shotgun, and his handgun. She counted rounds of ammunition and grew worried when she realized how many they had already used. In the future, she’d have to pick her shots more carefully.

  If they kept using rounds at this rate, before the year was out they’d be down to throwing rocks at enemies. Looking at the empty space where boxes of ammunition once sat, it seemed more important than ever to Sierra to deal with Payson so that they could stop threats coming up from the valley and so that Payson itself wouldn’t remain a threat to them.

  At supper that night, Pilar said, “Before we eat, I want to apologize to you. What I said to you the other evening.”

  “About me becoming hard and unfeeling.”

  “Not unfeeling. Just the other. Becoming a warrior.”

  “And not your little girl any more.”

  “You’ll always be my little girl. Even when you’re fifty.”

  “I was thinking today about how Misha has been so protected through all this. And wondering if that was a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “She wouldn’t be able to survive on her own. If Joan died, both of those children would be in trouble.”

  “They would.”

  “But we’d take them in, right? If Joan dies tomorrow.”

  Sierra hadn’t stopped to think of it. “Goddess, all of them? All eleven?” She looked around the kitchen and tried to imagine crowding that horde in here. “I don’t think my cooking is up to it.”

  “I was thinking only Misha and Emily.”

  “Those two? Sure, I’d take them in. I have a lot I could teach them.”

  “Good. Because, uh, I guess I need to apologize for this too, for saying yes before I consulted with you, but Joan asked me today.”

  “To take them if she dies?”

  “Yes. If she doesn’t come back from Payson.”

  “Okay.” Sierra couldn’t be irritated at him for saying yes without asking her. She would have said yes too. “But I don’t know about taking eleven of them.”

  “If everything goes well tomorrow, I’m hoping the extra nine get back to their relatives. You have pictures of them all on your phone still?”

  “Yes.”

  “You should take your phone. In case this plan works, you can start hunting for their parents the instant the city is secured. Joan has them on Mitch’s phone too. She didn’t bring hers along from her house, thinking there was no reason to have it.”

  “Okay, I’ll take mine. Food’s getting cold. Can I eat?”

  “Sure, go on.” He toyed with his plate, a hamburger and oven fries. “So am I forgiven?”

  “I forgive you. And you aren’t wrong. I’ve changed. I guess I was like Misha once. I’m not today. But that change makes me more likely to live through the next couple of days. That part’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Very good.”

  “I’m sorry too, for yelling at you.” There was no reason to hold a grudge, and every reason not to. She might be the source of his worry over her soul or whatever, and she didn’t see any way around that. But she didn’t want to die and leave him regretting how they’d left things between them. “You’re the best father I’ve ever known, and not just because you’re my father. You’re objectively the best of all I’ve ever seen.”

  He shook his head at that. “Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing. Ever.”

  “Then you fake it pretty well. Now eat.”

  Chapter 9

  “Jailbreak,” Arch said. Sierra was in the car with him, Kelly, and Dev. Curt and Joan were in a second car, an attacker’s car that had four-wheel drive. Pilar was at home, defending the neighborhood. Rudy was babysitting the kids, who had no idea they might be going back home to Payson by tomorrow. Joan had not wanted to get their hopes up in case the liberation of Payson was a failure.

  Kelly said, “I think a jailbreak is from the inside breaking out, hon. This will be breaking into jail.”

  Arch nodded. “The trunk has some confiscated weapons—except ones that I really liked and wanted to keep for us. You understand you’re all going to carry two weapons and give one to one of the men you break out of jail.”

  “We remember,” Sierra said.

  “I won’t be with you, of course,” Arch said. “I’ll be outside of town with the walkie-talkie plug-in to the cell phone. Wes will be leading the big party, heading into Payson from the north.”

  Sierra had heard it all before, at least twice. She changed the topic. “You’re both feeling okay, Kelly? You and Dev?”

  Kelly said, “I suspect Devlin has a headache he’s not admitting to, and I’m still sore all over, like I wrestled a bear. But I can run and shoot, and that’s all that matters.”

  “I’d rather we were all healed up, me included, and Pilar too,” Arch said, “but I don’t want to wait that long. I think this is the best time. They’ll be confused about their missing men, hoping they’ll return. They’ll be talking about that and about our supposed dawn attack in four days. If we’re lucky, they’ll be arguing among themselves over what to do and disorganized because of it.”

  “That’s a lot of hoping,” Sierra said. “Pretty optimistic for you.”

  “It is the best-case scenario,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s impossible, or entirely wishful thinking, that there might be some disorganization, maybe even dissent in their ranks. That’s to our advantage.”

  “Sounds right to me,” Dev said. “And there’s no way they’d anticipate that we’d be going straight for the jail. That’s a bold move.”

  “If I knew which women were good shots in town, I wouldn’t have suggested it,” said Arch. “But we can’t start knocking on doors and asking. On the other hand, I suspect the men they jailed were exactly the ones able to use guns. The good fighters may have mostly been killed, but surely some of them ended up in jail.”

  “There’s one problem,” Dev said.

  Sierra turned to face him. He was frowning. “What?”

  “Maybe they never jailed the men. Maybe that was a lie to keep the women in line and growing food.”

  It took Sierra a second to see where he was headed. “You mean they might all have been executed.”

  “I wouldn’t have, in their position,” Arch said. “I’d keep them alive in case an unpleasant job needed doing.”

  “As slaves, you mean?” Kelly said.

  “Or as cannon fodder, like they used the children,” Arch added. “Put them out in a line in front in order to get to somewhere else, like up at Flagstaff’s roadblock. Shoot one in the back when he makes a run for it, and the rest might cooperate. But yeah, we’re basing the jail raid on a hope rather than a fact. We d
on’t know for sure that any Paysonites are still alive in there.”

  Kelly said, “Which is why we’re only committing four to the raid.”

  “Who except us?” Sierra said.

  “Us three,” Dev said. “You, Mom, and me. Plus one volunteer from the other group.”

  “Don’t take Tad,” she said.

  “Why not?” said Kelly.

  At the same time, Arch said, “I wouldn’t. I don’t get a good feeling about him.”

  “That’s accurate in my opinion,” Sierra said. “Wes would be great if he’d go. But anyone he picked would be fine, I imagine. Who’s our team leader?”

  “Me,” Kelly said. “If whoever joins us from the other neighborhood has military experience, I’ll take his advice on the raid itself. Otherwise, it’s me because of my having been to the county complex several times.”

  “You were never in jail, right?” Sierra said. She was teasing, and everyone knew it.

  “Ha,” Dev said. “Her?”

  “Complained about a property tax bill, dealt with some other minor government hassles, that kind of thing. But the jail is right there by those offices.”

  “What’s it like there?”

  “I looked around to see if we had any brochures or anything with a picture of the buildings, but we didn’t. So, without the internet, all I have to show you is a map I drew, which might not be entirely accurate.” She handed it over the seat back. “It’s pretty open. Lots of parking space, wide streets.”

  Sierra took it and said, “So finding cover is an issue.” She studied the map.

  “We don’t approach on the street,” Dev said. He put a finger on the map and traced a short line. “We come in this back way if we can.” His finger moved. “If it’s blocked, that way for plan B.”

  “How close are we going to risk parking to town?” Sierra said.

  “Something to discuss with the others,” Arch said.

  Three minutes later, they pulled into the forest road that led to the other neighborhood. Sierra noticed Dev looking unusually tense and then remembered he’d been shot at near here. Remembering he hadn’t had a chance to talk to any of the others yet, as she had, she said to him, “They’re okay. A lot like us.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, as if it was yet to be seen.

  The car pulled in a couple hundred yards and parked. A minute later, Joan and Curt pulled in behind.

  Sierra said, “I’ll get out first.”

  “No,” said Arch. “Let’s wait until we see a car. I’d hate to make their guards nervous.”

  So they waited. It wasn’t long before the first car came up the road.

  “Just one?” Sierra said.

  “Surely not,” Kelly murmured.

  Wes emerged from the car and raised his hand. Sierra opened her door. “Hey, Wes,” she called.

  Another car appeared, and then a line of them. Five more cars drove up as she approached Wes and offered her hand. “Good to be working with you again.”

  “Not with me personally. This is Jackson. Jackson, Sierra Crocker.”

  She didn’t correct him. It might be time to give up on having her own name and just accept her father’s. Easier for everyone, herself included. She shook hands with Jackson.

  “I hear you’re quite the soldier,” he said.

  “That’s nice of someone to say. But like all of us, I’m only doing what has to be done. Surviving, you know?”

  “Couldn’t agree more. Are you leading tonight?”

  “No, Kelly is.” She waved Kelly and Dev over. “She has a map.”

  “Good. Let’s talk about this.”

  The four of them put the map on the hood of Wes’s car and went over the approaches. Kelly described the place in three dimensions the best she could.

  “We have one guy who’s been inside the jail,” said Jackson. “Drunk and disorderly, he says.” Then he shook his head. “Kills me not to be able to look that up and verify it these days. But anyway, he drew this.” And he pulled out a folded piece of paper, an official blueprint.

  “Wow, looks good,” Sierra said. “Did he really do that?”

  “No. We have a drafter. Mostly used computer stuff at work, but still knew how to do this from his training. Anyway, you’re right: it looks good, but I can’t swear to its accuracy. There were locked doors here, and here, as the drunk guy remembers. But he also said it was all electric locks. So unless they’re generating electricity now, they must keep guards on the doors.”

  “Or they’ve managed to put in regular lock sets,” Kelly said.

  “Probably not, we decided. They aren’t in any way normal doors. They might have been able to do something—put in a hook and chain on the door, something like that. Or they might all yield to keys, designed that way in case of a power outage.”

  “Hope they aren’t using big chains,” Dev said.

  “I brought heavy-duty bolt cutters. They’re still in the car.”

  “Do they weigh a lot?” Sierra said.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “We’re giving him another rifle to carry too?” she asked Kelly.

  “What’s that?” Jackson said.

  Kelly explained about the confiscated weapons.

  Jackson said, “I can manage that much more weight. Also, if we can kill a guard or two, we’ll have yet more weapons to give out.” He had a doubtful look on his face. “I hope we don’t get shot for our trouble by the men we free.”

  Kelly said, “I would imagine they’d be grateful.”

  “If they exist,” said Dev.

  Sierra explained Dev’s concern.

  Jackson nodded. “I guess it could be an empty jail. In which case, it should be damned easy to get into, right? And then we can clear the town, from the jail to the south end.”

  Kelly said, “If all the men are dead, we can find women in town to use the rifles. It’ll take time, but better to have four more weapons on our side when we hit the street.”

  “I’m guessing a third of the women in Payson shoot. That’s about what it is in our neighborhood,” Jackson said. “Or was, before this happened.”

  “A hundred percent in ours,” Sierra said.

  “Except the Kershaw girls,” Dev pointed out.

  “Town is different,” Kelly said. “Maybe one in four women will be good with a rifle or handgun.”

  Sierra said, “So that would mean knocking on sixteen doors to find the four we need.”

  Jackson said, “Or four doors. Or a hundred. Make sure you don’t knock on a door where an invader is staying.”

  Sierra hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe we should have Joan with us. She knows where people live.”

  “Used to live,” Kelly said.

  “Right. Okay, I can see the problems with this.” Sierra shook off the disappointment she felt. “We may not need to do that anyway. Or when the shooting starts, they might come running and beg to help. Maybe some saw the flyers and have been talking with neighbors. Who knows?”

  “We can’t know,” agreed Jackson. “We’ll get to the jail, try and get inside, and see what we see. Wes said you’ve worked out your own signals?”

  “Let’s teach you those while we have time.” And for the next ten minutes, that’s what they did. Jackson was a quick study, but he finally held his hand up. “That’s all I can remember without confusing myself.”

  “It’s enough. We should probably work in two teams of two anyway,” Kelly said. “I mean, we’ll go in all together, but should we be separated, we should try to stick with a buddy. Someone to watch our back, give us cover, tend to a wound.”

  “Sure. I’ll go with Sierra, if that’s okay,” Jackson said.

  Sierra had no sense whatsoever that this guy was looking at her as a piece of meat, as Tad might have been, so she nodded. She hated that she’d been reminded of it, but at the same time she was glad Curt had said something about Tad. Going on a mission with a guy who was distracted by thoughts of sex would be dangerous. But Jackson seemed focuse
d, professional, and reliable. “Good by me,” she said, “if Kelly approves.”

  Kelly said, “We’ll see when we get down and assess the situation.”

  “Okay, people,” Wes said, raising his voice over the crowd’s murmur. “Let’s gather ‘round. I want to go over the night’s plan again. Make sure we’re all on the same page.”

  Sierra figured that meant that he’d already been going over it with his own troops. Wes explained. They had planned a three-pronged attack. They’d be going in on two fronts about a mile apart, on the northwest and northeast sides of town. The jail was almost centrally located, a mile to the south of the main intersection.

  “We stick to cover. No losses.” He raised his voice. “When the jail team releases men to fight, remember the danger of friendly fire. We might have three different teams coming at each other. Those of you with night scopes, know your targets. No one shoot at a woman. A woman is, statistically, likely to be a friendly. Try not to get separated.”

  Someone close to him said something in a quiet voice.

  “Right. While there may be a few female collaborators from what we’ve heard, at this point I think it’s likely they’ll lay low and not pick up weapons. I’d rather err on the side of caution. So no shooting at women. Or children.”

  Curt spoke up, his odd, deep voice easy to identify. “Before, in our neighborhood, they used children as shields. If they do that again, it’ll be a problem.”

  “Right. If that happens, be sure of your shot. If you have the skills and equipment, take head shots. If not, fire an occasional shot over their heads. Keep them pinned down and engaged.”

  He had more to say, and Sierra listened, but not much of what he said applied to her. He was talking to his troops—and to Joan and Curt, who would be going with them.

  “How will we know when we’ve won?” asked a woman.

  “Nobody else will be shooting at us,” Wes said.

  “What about if they surrender?” another woman’s voice asked. Francie, Sierra thought.

  “Don’t trust them,” a man shouted.

  “I wouldn’t trust them,” Wes said. “The other problem is, what do we do with them after surrender? Take them prisoner?”