by Connor Mccoy
“What is wrong is that I think we’re being spied on,” Conrad said.
“Yeah, they probably just passed by, saw the house, and wanted to make sure we knew they were coming. That’s called being polite,” Sarah said.
“That was being polite back in the days when people weren’t coveting the very land you lived on,” Conrad said.
“No kidding,” Camilla added. “We’ve already had two mobs try stealing this place.”
“And these people haven’t done that. Think about it! Why didn’t they come in with guns blazing?” Sarah said, waving her hands.
“Negotiating terms of surrender is preferable to wasting your ammo,” Conrad said.
Sarah cringed. “God. You are absolutely impossible. So, what are you going to do? Spend all night burying more mines out in the lawn? Maybe you stowed away a nuclear bomb?”
Conrad pushed back his coat, revealing the gun on his holster. “I will receive them properly, as a gentleman. And if they don’t behave accordingly, I will have to eject them from my property.”
Camilla smiled. “Need some help?”
Conrad started for the hall. “Madame, if you please.”
But before Conrad could leave the living room, Sarah jumped in the way. “Okay. Fine. Do what you must. But if they come in for coffee and snacks, I will talk to them. You can’t stop me from talking to them.”
Conrad nodded once. “Do as you like, Sarah. I’ve never been able to stop you from doing otherwise.”
Chapter Fourteen
They were coming.
Conrad backed off from the eyepiece. This periscope, looking out from the attic window, was the closest thing the old rancher possessed to an early warning system since he lost his electronics. A tall, spindly woman marched down State Road 22 in front of ten other soldiers in a wedge formation. All of them sported green army fatigues and were armed with handguns in holsters, and many of them carried rifles over their shoulders.
They’ll be paying us a visit, Conrad thought. He reached for the belt and holsters on the metal box behind him. “Guess I shouldn’t disappoint,” he said.
Conrad waited for his guests out by the side of the road. About ten minutes had passed. He purposely waited by the heavy bushes that draped over the dirt onto the asphalt. The foliage would conceal him until the soldiers were about eight feet away.
Sure enough, the female soldier leading the pack raised her hand when she and her party got to about that distance. Conrad leisurely stepped out into full view, his boots hitting the surface of the road. “Good morning,” he said, “You all out practicing maneuvers today? Or do they call it something else now?”
The female soldier frowned as if puzzled, but then composed herself and spoke, “Conrad Drake, is it?” She started her approach once again, with her men close behind. “You must have received our message. I’m glad to see we don’t alarm you.”
“If you’re planning to pass by peacefully, of course you don’t,” Conrad replied.
“If by pass by, you mean visit and discuss the future of yourself and your household, then absolutely,” she said.
Now Deaden had closed to gap to just a couple of feet. This lady’s tall, Conrad thought. Her brown hair was cut short, but not very, as it still dangled over her shoulders. She still appeared feminine enough, but gave off such an icy attitude that, combined with her imposing height, she indicated she would be a tough customer.
“Our future’s just fine. Captain Joanne, I take it?” Conrad asked.
“Captain Deaden.” The army leader came to a halt, her gaze almost even with Conrad’s. “That is how I’m properly addressed, Mister Drake.”
“Too bad. Joanne’s a fine name,” Conrad said.
Captain Deaden ignored Conrad’s comment and instead turned an eye to the fallen trees. “Looks like you had some tree problems. What happened? Diseased trunks? Storm risk? Funny, I don’t see any trunks around here. Of course, you could have dug them up, but I get the feeling you wouldn’t waste that kind of time with all your crops to take care of.”
Conrad kept his gaze on the captain. “They’re like my personal doormen. Bertha and Goliath. They keep out unwanted visitors, especially ones that drive heavy automobiles and come armed to the teeth.”
“Very clever. You sound like someone who’s a good study on disaster survival. Perhaps we can work together.”
Conrad fought to keep his eyes from rolling. “Work together, or do you mean working for you? There’s a difference, Captain. I pay attention to how people talk to me.”
Deaden pivoted away from the trees, back to the rancher. “So, what are you looking for, Mister Drake?”
“Lay your cards on the table. Tell me what you want. Then, I want you and the ten smiling faces behind you to leave my property and never come back.” He glanced at Deaden’s soldiers. Not a single one of them cracked a smile. Figures, he thought.
“Well, I can’t promise you the latter, but I will be happy to tell you what I want from you,” Deaden said.
Conrad’s throat clenched. A threat was implied there, that’s for sure. “Fine. I’ll escort you to my home, provided you leave your weapons out here,” he said.
A few of the men chuckled, but Deaden waved her hand. “That’s fine.”
“Captain?” asked one of the soldiers, a young man with short blonde hair and a French accent.
“Do it,” she said. “We’re not enemies here, after all.”
You don’t buy that, and I know it, Conrad thought. But he kept his composure.
Conrad opened the front door, then the screen door. “Welcome.” He walked quickly, to get Deaden inside, and then shut the door. He insisted the men stay outside. Deaden agreed easily. The captain was very confident Conrad wasn’t some lunatic who’d try something.
Maybe she’s got no fear in her veins, Conrad pondered. Or maybe she figures she’s got nothing to lose. Let’s face it, this world has taken a shitload from everybody who’s survived it, filed them down to their cores. I wonder if this lady always had been a soldier before this mess.
A plate of corn, potato salad and cut meat lay on the table by a glass of water. “We prepared a meal for you,” Conrad said. “We figured you’d appreciate some home cooking after a long march from wherever you’ve been.”
Deaden nodded. “Thank you.” She sat on the couch near the food. “I just came from a refugee camp about fifty miles south of here. The people are from all over, Davies, Wynwood, Redmond…”
Conrad leaned forward. Deaden stopped in mid-sentence, then said, “I see that caught your interest.”
“You could definitely say that,” Conrad said, “I had some recent…dealings in those places.”
Deaden jabbed a piece of meat with the fork. “Then you can imagine the state some of those people are in. Surviving vandals, mobs, gangs. Davies was under the thumb of a local dictator who, rumor has it, was killed.” Then she took a big bite.
“No rumor, Captain. He’s very much dead,” Conrad said.
“Well, the town experienced a terrible riot in its north end when those rumors hit. Fortunately, we pacified it and took in the survivors.”
Pacified. Another word he didn’t like hearing from this lady.
“With the food and medicine on hand, we’ve been able to pull many of them from death’s door. But at least half of them are very productive. We need more assistance, and we can’t afford to spread our forces too thin.”
“Well, if you like to barter, hell, maybe some donations, so be it.” Conrad spread out his hands.
“You’re a man who knows his civic duty. I like that,” Deaden said, “But the situation is desperate. Mere donations aren’t going to do. I need…direct control of your homestead’s resources.”
Conrad kept still, not betraying his thoughts.
“Relocating you and your family to the camp would be the best option,” Deaden said. “We’ve been gathering survivors under our protection.”
“From cities that are all burne
d out and ruined. I can see that. But we’re fine here,” Conrad said.
“Yes, but we have working electronics. Not a lot, but enough to help with medicine, air conditioning…”
“And way too many people to be effective for us. We’d be in long lines for that stuff,” Conrad said. “We know how to work this land and provide for ourselves, and we’ve done well so far in bartering for things we don’t have.”
Just then, Sarah pushed open the hall door, stopping Deaden from replying. “Conrad, is this our company?” She sounded mildly irritated.
Conrad rose. “Just wanted to get the good captain settled in here.” He turned to Deaden. “Captain Joanne Deaden, this is Sarah Sandoval.”
Sarah extended her hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
Deaden took it and shook it once, firmly. “Thank you, Sarah.” Then she released it. “I’ve been curious about the kinds of people living under this roof. I’d like to know how much you know about the outside and what’s available to you.”
Sarah’s smile grew. “I’ve been hoping things have been getting better.”
“I think they are, or can be. That’s why I’m here,” Deaden said. “We’ve been taking back land, city by city, town by town, but it’s not easy, and we’ve suffered delays.” She leaned a little closer in Sarah’s direction. “If I could, I’d like to talk to you privately.”
“Excuse me?” Conrad asked.
“In your house, of course,” Deaden added. “Any room will be fine.”
“Anything you need to say to her can be said in front of me, Captain,” Conrad said sternly.
“Conrad, I don’t think this is a problem,” Sarah said.
“Well, it is for me,” Conrad said. “You think I’m leaving you alone with her?”
“Mister Drake, if you fear for her safety, I assure you I have better things to do than to threaten someone in your house. Particularly since I’m the only one of my company inside and you have the advantage of numbers,” Deaden replied.
Conrad advanced one step toward his guest, taking the opportunity to overshadow her since she remained seated. “The point, Captain, is that I don’t need anything said in confidence to a member of my household that I don’t know about.”
“Conrad, I will talk to Captain Deaden without you, either here or outside with her. You can choose,” Sarah said in a flat but firm tone.
Conrad sucked in a loud breath, then answered his ex. “Liam. He comes in and sits with you. That’s my terms.”
Sarah nodded. “That’s fine.”
“Liam? Is that the young man walking with you the other day?” Deaden asked.
“Yes, he is,” Conrad replied curtly.
“My son. Mine…and his,” Sarah added gently.
“Oh.” Deaden raised an eyebrow. “You two are married?”
“Were,” Conrad quickly corrected.
Deaden stirred her up her last bit of potato salad. “I see. That doesn’t come as a terrible surprise. Sure, you may bring in your son.”
Conrad stood up. “I’ll bring him in.” He opened his hall door and hollered, “Liam! Get your ass in here!”
Sarah dropped her head in her open hands. “God, Conrad!”
Camilla sat by Conrad in his bedroom while the rancher flipped up a loose wooden panel to reveal a telescope and a wire with an ear bud hanging from it. “Sorry I don’t have another for you, but I didn’t figure I’d have more than one person with me when something bad went down.”
“Did you rig all the rooms like this?” Camilla softly chuckled.
“No, just the living room.” Conrad leaned into the telescope, then turned the focus knob. The image of Captain Deaden on the couch with Sarah and Liam came into sharp focus.
“I put in this scope about twelve years ago. Figured that if the living room was breached for any reason, I could sneak in here and get a good look at what’s going on.” He planted the bud in his right ear. “There we go. Yeah, our lady captain thinks she’s smart as hell. Well, she’s in for quite a surprise.”
“Okay, just remind me, you’re not scared she’s going to take Sarah or Liam hostage, right?” Camilla asked.
“No, I don’t figure her for that, but she could talk Sarah into something, going with her, trying to peel Liam away. Some of these people study brainwashing techniques, the art of mental manipulation.”
“You once told me no man could convince Sarah to do anything even if they held a gun to her head,” Camilla said with a chuckle.
“Yeah. That’s the problem.” Conrad tightened the focus a little more. “That’s a woman in there. Ah, she’s talking.” He leaned in a little closer.
Deaden had pulled out a notepad, which now rested on her lap. She scribbled quickly as she spoke, while Liam sat right next to his mother, eyeing the woman with distrust. The army captain seemed to ignore him completely. “Sarah Sandoval,” she said, “native born?”
“Second generation. My mom’s parents came from Honduras. My dad’s mom was born in Cuba, married a farmer in the northern part of the state,” Sarah replied.
Deaden kept her gaze on the pad, still writing as she talked. “I’m third generation. I had great-grandparents who emigrated from the Netherlands. Running from the Nazis. So, how long have you been living here?”
Sarah tilted her head back. “Oh, about nine months maybe. It’s so hard to keep track of time anymore. I know it was summer when I…I was rescued and brought here.”
“Rescued?” Deaden asked.
“Conrad and my boyfriend, Tom, they came after me. I was taken away by a bunch of thugs. They worked for a crime boss in the city I lived in.”
“Which was?” Deaden questioned further.
“Redmond,” Sarah replied.
“Was this crime boss Marcellus Maggiano?” Deaden asked.
Sarah straightened up. “That’s right. You know about him?”
“I thoroughly interviewed the survivors of Redmond. I know a lot about what went on there.” Deaden cleared her throat. “So, did you suffer any personal abuse or trauma during your captivity?”
Sarah’s face twitched. “It was…degrading. I’ll say that.”
“Did you suffer any abuse of a physical or sexual nature?” Deaden asked.
“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Liam cut in, “Mom went through a lot. That’s all you need to know.”
Deaden still didn’t look up from her notes. “I need to properly understand what you and your family have gone through, Mister Drake.” Now she looked up. “We have a lot of ways to treat people who have been through all sorts of horrible things. Your mother needs to know that those choices are available.”
“Liam, it’s okay,” Sarah said softly.
Liam settled back in the couch. Deaden put her pen back to paper. “Go on,” the captain said.
“I was forced to strip several times,” Sarah said with an evident lump in her throat. “No, they didn’t…they didn’t rape me. But I was felt up more than once.”
“Do you suffer from nightmares, adverse health conditions, or sudden flashes of memory?” Deaden asked.
“No. Actually, I’ve been doing quite well. I’ve been settling into my new life nicely.”
Deaden looked up. “Well, that’s good to hear. But I am curious about why you and Conrad are no longer together.”
Sarah pushed back into the couch. “Well, that was a long time ago. Probably going on thirty-one years.”
“That long? I must say, it’s quite interesting that you’ve chosen to live under the same roof as your ex-husband. I trust you two have an amicable relationship,” Deaden said.
Sarah smiled, though a bit awkwardly. “We’ve learned to live with each other.”
“Was the initial separation acrimonious?” Deaden asked.
Sarah drew in her legs. “It was far from ideal.”
“Did you suffer any physical or mental abuse? Were you being cheated on?” Deaden asked.
“Okay, put on the brakes, Cap!” Liam stood up. “No
thing like that happened and you don’t need to ask Mom about it anymore.”
“It’s vital that I get all the information I need, young man. Believe me, I do want to talk to you, in time,” Deaden said. “If your mother is suffering from the result of her divorce, I think she would be better off coming with us.”
“She’s fine where she is.” Liam raised his voice.
“You’re very defensive. Is there something you don’t want to share?” Deaden turned her gaze back to Sarah.
However, Liam blocked the captain’s view. “Butt out, Cap.”
“I warn you, Mister Drake. If I find evidence of abuse in this house, I will not hesitate to clear everyone out and separate you…”
“Go to hell! My mom lied about my dad. That’s why they’re not together! It wasn’t him at all,” Liam shouted.
Deaden’s eyes widened, but only slightly. “Really?”
Sarah gripped a nearby pillow. “Yes…. yes, I said some very, very horrible things about Conrad that weren’t true.” She bowed her head. “Yes, I’m ashamed of a lot of what I said and did. That’s what happened.”
Liam’s skin burned. Watching his mother be humiliated like this drove the metaphorical daggers deeper into his soul. Worse, he was helping to increase her pain. He wanted to defend his father, but in the process, he was hurting his mother.
Before he could rouse another response to their guest, a familiar cry cut through the air, followed by a feminine “Here you go. Someone’s a little hungry, aren’t they?”
Abruptly, Deaden jumped from her seat. “Is that a baby?”
Chapter Fifteen
Liam glided in front of Captain Deaden, blocking her view of the kitchen door. “Yes, it is,” he said, slowly, flatly.
“Well, that is fascinating. Yours?” Deaden asked.
“None of your business, Cap, and I strongly suggest we change the subject.” Liam was not about to volunteer any more information than he had to.
“Well, that’s rather rude, Mister Drake. I came here to talk to everyone possible. I assume that’s the child’s mother speaking. I think she deserves to hear what I have to say.”
