SEVEN DAYS Page 18

After a few more minutes, Isaac stood up, a compassionate smile on his face. “I think they need some alone family time.”

  Rick nodded, all too eager to comply. He stepped out of the office without another word, tripping over a discarded blanket in the process.

  Isaac followed Rick and pulled his brother to the side. “What was that?”

  “What?” Rick replied.

  “Their daughter gets raped, and all you can manage to do is give the father a head nod?”

  Rick’s jaw clenched. “This is your department, not mine. What was she doing out there in the first place? She could have revealed our location. How many more people have been sneaking out every day?”

  “I know that boy. He’s come to church with Sarah a few times. I didn’t think he was capable of that sort of thing.”

  “That was before the world changed,” Rick replied. “Isaac, we have to make sure no one leaves from now on without my permission, period.”

  “What about Sarah?”

  “Honestly, she’s lucky to be alive.”

  Isaac shot his brother a glance, and Rick changed his tone. “Listen, Isaac, we’ve got to keep people in the chapel, or we’ll see this a dozen times over. This all follows a predictable pattern: once people realize that police can’t stop the looting and thievery, people will try to push the envelope and see what else they can get away with. I don’t like this business any more than you, but the most we can do is prevent this from happening—”

  “You’re right,” Isaac rubbed his face with his hands, his voice taking on a defeated tone. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. I just didn’t think something like this could happen so quickly. I knew that kid—I thought he was a good kid.”

  “He probably was…until he wasn’t.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Day 6

  Jane woke up in a cold sweat, her hair matted against her forehead. She was one of the few individuals who still refused to sleep in the basement, along with her mother. She, unlike most others, still had a bed to sleep in and a room to herself. Automatically, she reached for the book that sat haphazardly on her messy nightstand; but, as she grabbed it, she quickly realized that there was not enough light to read. Since the EMP, she had read several books, most from her own collection, but a few she took from her Mom and Dad’s shelves. The books she now thumbed through were drastically different than her typical genre. She wanted to read something fantastical and impractical, something that would be useless in a survival situation—like some teenybopper vampire book. Her history books stood unopened, forgotten under the juvenile books that now decorated her room.

  Despite the lack of light, she cracked open a book and strained her eyes, but to no avail. It was too dark and she guessed it would not be light enough to read for several hours. She had a flashlight that she had been using to read with, but that was before Rick confiscated it and locked it away somewhere.

  She lay back down and closed her eyes, but sleep would not come. She shifted and twisted in her bed, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. This movement did nothing more than keep her awake. After a few more moments of restless shuffling, she kicked her sheets off and stood up, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. She inched her way across the dark room, carefully stepping past the maze of books on her floor. The house was not as quiet as she thought it should be, and once she left her room, she could clearly hear several voices in the chapel. She walked slowly downstairs, tripping a few times on unseen objects. As she entered the family room, she could see faint and sporadic lights from under the door that led to the chapel. She headed for it and pushed it open, revealing several faces of the Congregation who were busy with the morning routine.

  Jane knew these people well, even though she had not spent much time talking to most of them. She had always been shy, and most of the conversations she had with members of the congregation never got past simple pleasantries. They were all good people, as far as she was concerned, but she just did not care to venture out of her comfort zone. They were not rich or poor—just average, good people.

  Jane spotted a man near the kitchen, his hands busy lighting a propane burner. His name was Tyler Davis—a man that seemed always to have his watch set fifteen minutes slow. His clothing was large and ill-fitting, evidence that they were purchased from a second-hand store, and his shoes were worn to the point that the tips of his toes had begun to peek through. He was a social worker, an occupation that once had some prestige but now had lost much of its appeal after dramatic salary cuts. He tried to find another job, but each employer demanded that he arrive at work on time, a feat that he could not even accomplish for the job interview, much less the job itself. His wife, Jaime Davis, stood next to him, her steady hands compensating for his shaking ones. She was always on time until she met Tyler and, for a while, people hoped that she might influence his punctuality for the better. The pendulum swung the other way, however, and soon she was even later than he was. They had twin sons who, despite their young age, were precocious at finding trouble.

  Next to her was Cindy Slack, a former head of Human Resources at Home Depot. She was a very assertive person until a recent divorce sent her self-esteem into a tailspin. Her decisive nature gave way to a passive-aggressive persona. She was once considered one of the most beautiful women in Norwich, but neglect and time seemed to have worn her down. It was rumored that she was currently living with a recently graduated high school student who cleaned pools for a living. Even though the “pool boy” was not here at the chapel now, Jane seemed to think that there was some truth behind the rumors.

  Behind Cindy was the Cagle family. Nick Cagle was a warm and loving father of three children. What he lacked in a steady paycheck, he made up for in the time he invested with his kids. He was a freelance journalist who wrote articles for everything from trade journals and magazines to real-estate brochures and billboards. He also owned and operated an online press that put out a newsletter called the “Open Air Parade.” It focused on government corruption and was widely read within the city, but the proceeds did not bring in much money. His wife, Sarah Cagle, was also a writer and wrote in the “Ask Me Section” of an online newspaper. She had to come up with new ideas every week and, consequently, was always mumbling to herself about possible stories. Despite the amount of energy exhausted in the effort, the gig paid only $50 dollars per article.

  On the opposite side of the building, near the front entrance of the chapel, Kate Hensen was working in the dim light of a dying flashlight. Whatever she was doing required both hands, and she was forced to hold the flashlight in her mouth. Her concentration, however, often shifted from one thing to another, and the flashlight bounced unevenly.

  Jane approached the woman and stuck out her hand, “I’ll hold it.”

  Kate looked up, surprised by who she saw. “I haven’t seen you up this early before. What are you doing up? And where is the history book you’re usually toting?” She handed Jane the flashlight.

  Several years back, Kate had actually been put in charge of some of the younger children, one of whom was Jane. They had gotten to know each other exceptionally well, despite Jane’s shy nature. Kate had a way of bringing down people’s walls and, gradually, Jane opened up. She still did not talk much to everyone else, but with Kate, it was different. She could blab on for hours about some obscure historical event, and by the end of it, Kate would still be a captive audience. She was so different from Jane’s mother, who would only listen to the first few sentences before she started giving advice or changing the subject.

  Before the EMP, Kate received a Ph.D. from a prestigious college and was on the fast track to a promising career with Google. A week before she could start, however, her mother was diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer. The disease quickly spread, effectively paralyzing her mother and forcing her into a wheelchair. Kate’s mother had little movement in her arms and legs and was utterly dependent on her daughter. In the process, Kate’s
credit was tarnished, forever excluding her from the chance of gainful employment. She was forced to take a job as a metal shop and IT teacher at a local high school just to make ends meet.

  “I’ve got nothing to do,” Jane said, “It’s too dark to read, and Rick took away all the flashlights—although, he seems to have let you keep yours.”

  In the dim light, she could barely see a small, mischievous smile on Kate’s face. “He can’t take away my flashlight. I’m a grown woman.”

  “You don’t seem to like him much.”

  “Well…he’s a little over the top. He’s got us all worked up like this is the end of society as we know it. Things might get worse before they get better, but there are other countries out there that I’m sure are sending us aid. And I still have a hard time believing that the government is not prepared for something like this. The government still has funds it allocates for emergencies—granted, not as much as it once did, but I’m sure this qualifies. The government will bail us out, you’ll see. In the meantime, I think Rick is just making this harder than it needs to be.”

  “How come they have not shown up so far? Things are already getting bad. Did you hear about the retirement home that Jacob saw?”

  “Yes. The Government has a lot to do, but I do not doubt that they’ll be here. Your Uncle, however, who I’m sure has good intentions, does not seem to trust the system. He seems a little too eager to accept that the world has changed and that it will never be the same. This is America—not a third world country. He’s a little paranoid, and that kind of mindset, more than anything else, creates more problems than it solves. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m all about making preparations to ensure that we have enough of everything for everyone, just in case it takes the Federal Government a little bit longer, but this is by no means the end of the world. Look what happened in the LA earthquake—an event that killed thousands of people. The government was slow in acting, but eventually, they did show up; and when they did, it was these “doomsday preppers” who were ripe with panic that caused the majority of the problems. Only about half the casualties in the earthquake were from the disaster; the other half were caused by the ensuing violence as people fought for supplies. If everyone had just stayed in their houses and waited to be rescued, the panic and death toll wouldn’t have been nearly as bad.”

  “What are you working on?”

  “I’m daisy chaining these car batteries together,” Kate replied. “There are two ways to do this: I can either hook them up together to create a higher voltage, or I can hook them together to create a low voltage that’ll last longer. I just need to decide which is more important: longer-lasting batteries or higher voltage.”

  “Why don’t you hook them up so you can do both?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Jane replied, “To get high voltage, you have to hook positive to negative and negative to positive, right? And to get your batteries in parallel you need to hook positive to positive and negative to negative. There’s nothing that says you can’t hook them both up at the same time: All you have to do is select the correct connection for whatever task you’re trying to accomplish. That way, you don’t have to undo all the cables and reattach them every time you’re switching between high and low voltage.”

  Kate smiled. “That is actually…really brilliant. I did not even consider it.”

  “If you wanted to, you could even attach a switch between the two cables,” Jane said. “That way, you can switch between the two power types without having to attach and reattach the cables to the inverter.”

  “Brilliant, you’re still as sharp as ever.”

  “By the way, where did you find the inverters? I thought they would all be fried in the EMP.”

  Kate looked around and lowered her voice before she spoke, “Your Uncle had them in his vehicle—part of his doomsday preparations.”

  Now it was Jane’s turn to smile mischievously. “So you’re saying it’s good he came prepared? Maybe his paranoia is a good thing.”

  Kate looked down, her mind desperately searching for something to change the subject. “How…have you been lately—I haven’t talked to you for a while?”

  “Well, I don’t know…as good as anyone, I guess.”

  “How’s your mother?”

  “That question is even more difficult to answer then how I’m doing. Mom doesn’t really seem to understand what’s going on. I mean, she’s one of the main minds behind the organization and structure of everything, but I don’t think she really knows what’s happening. Do you know what I mean? If you hear her talk, it’s like she’s dealing with a church activity that had gone wrong or something. She’s still surprised when she flips a light switch and nothing happens. I mean, most people were like that on the first day, but I think she’s in denial.”

  Suddenly, a loud explosion interrupted the conversation. The walls trembled, shaking dust from the roof of the old church. There were a few screams as people ran in all directions.

  Moments later, emerging with a burst of speed and armed with a scoped M4, Rick appeared, shouting orders as he went. “Alpha and Bravo, lock and load. Get to your posts. The rest of you get down to the basement and keep it quiet.”

  Panic set in as people realized the seriousness of the situation.

  Kate grabbed Jane’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Congregation members moved quickly, occasionally colliding with each other. More screams and panic followed as a bottleneck of people formed around the top of the stairs. Some people hefting rifles were fighting their way up while others were pushing their way down. As per their training, Alpha and Bravo Teams broke off into small groups of two, one of which carried an assigned pistol or long arm while the other held additional ammo, and headed to their designated areas. Rick climbed up a flight of stairs to the top of the steeple where he could see the entire city. He stuck his gun through a circular wood grate and scanned the area using his scope. In the distance, a column of black smoke and red flames drifted up from the center of the city.

  Then the air filled with distant gunshots.

  Isaac appeared a moment later, slightly out of breath. “What’s going on?”

  Rick did not answer immediately, his focus still downrange. “Something has—”

  Another explosion went off—this one louder and more powerful than the first. A massive ball of flame erupted from the city and mushroomed out, filling the air with dirt and debris. Long moments passed before the debris rained back down. The smoking remains of a body struck the ground a few hundred feet from the church. More explosions followed. More guns were fired.

  Isaac stepped towards the window. “What’s happening?”

  “The Mayor just lost the vote of confidence.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, the Mayor, if he’s still alive, is going to have to do something phenomenal to keep the people happy. This is where things start to get interesting.”

  NINETEEN

  Day 7

  Rick racked a round into his M4, the sharp sound cutting the early morning silence. The other five people with Rick did the same. They were dressed in regular street clothes and looked completely benign except for the gun belts at their waist, the M4s slung on their shoulder, and the red bands tied around their right arms. There were six men in total: Ryan McCurdy, Hector Rodriguez, Old Pete, Nick Cagle, Anthony Simmons, and Rick. These were the best the Congregation had to offer—a thought that turned Rick’s stomach.

  It was early in the morning, far too early for anyone else to be up. Despite it being summer, the morning was cold and crisp—a foreboding reminder of the winter that was on its way. Luckily, the church still had a coal-fired radiant heat boiler. The often-cursed dinosaur would bring salvation to their temporal souls this winter.

  Rick faced the small group of individuals. “I chose each of you because of your natural talent and tactical skill. Don’t let that make you cocky becau
se you’re still a shit sandwich, untested by the tumult of war, but I know that you’ll have my back as much as I’ve got yours.”

  Hector raised his hand. “What are we doing, Boss Man? And why aren’t the rest coming?”

  “We’re on a rescue mission. They’re about twenty people in the city that are waiting for us to pick them up. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get into the city and get most of them before the sun is up.”

  Hector again raised his hand. “Who’s waiting for us?”

  Rick shook his head. “I don’t have time to explain, but these people need us as much as we need them. They’ve got specific skill sets that we lack, and if we don’t get them today, I don’t know if they’ll be alive by tomorrow. I don’t know what trouble we’ll face out there. We don’t know how the Red Sleeves operate and an incorrect action of any one of us could blow our cover. Apart from that, I’m sure there are rebels out there that would just as soon kill us because we look like Red Sleeves.

  “It will be important that we keep moving—no matter what we see. Keep your eyes focused forward, your mind clear. For the next couple of hours, you’ve got to turn your heart to stone. No emotion. No second guessing me or yourself. No questioning the commands I give, understood? These security bands we’re wearing will fool anybody from a distance, but I’m sure they’re a slightly different color. If we stop to chat, somebody just might notice that small detail.

  “This will be dangerous. Make no mistake: you’ll be placed in harm’s way, but if you listen to me, and follow my lead, we’ll get through this. Are you men still with me? Can you do that?”

  Most nodded, a few whispered yes.

  “What are we goin’ to see out there, boy?” asked Old Pete, his voice sounding ancient.

  Rick shook his head, “I have no idea, but we’ve got to be ready for it. Cagle, I want you to take the suppressed M4 and post up in the chapel. If we’re being followed, I need you to eliminate the threat.”