Divided We Fall (16 page)

“Or maybe they wouldn’t,” said Sweeney. “Twenty-one people were hit. Only three guys in Danny’s squad were missing bullets after it was over, and then they were only down eight rounds. That’s a whole lot of bullets flying, and they’ll never figure out who was shooting. Why should Wright be the only one to pay?”

“Plus, they’re really pissed about this,” said Cal. “All these protestor people want someone to be punished.” JoBell lowered her eyes. Cal whipped a pebble into the river. “Danny didn’t do nothing wrong, but the president might want to lock him up just to calm people down.”

“That’s my point, though,” said JoBell. “They … A lot of people, even me a few minutes ago, don’t know that Danny didn’t do anything wrong. If we talked to the FBI or whoever, maybe they’d understand.”

“I think Cal might be right.” Becca looked up from her comm.

Cal had climbed up on the side rail, holding the vertical post in the truss. “What? Seriously?”

Becca held the comm so we could see the video of a riot the previous night in Oakland. Some people were flipping cars while others were looting or setting fire to stores. Most were shouting in the streets. There was no sound on the video, but when she tapped the screen to enlarge it, we could see a few of the signs the rioters were carrying. Among the usual signs that bitched about taxes or the military, a bunch of them read
JUSTICE FOR THE IDAHO
12, and
YOU’RE NEXT, IDAHO GUARD
, or
ARREST THE SOLDIERS NOW
.

She flipped to a news site where the headline read
RODRIGUEZ VOWS BOISE SHOOTERS WILL BE PUNISHED “TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW.”
Below that was another headline:
SPECIAL FEDERAL PROSECUTOR PLEDGES TO PURSUE CIVIL RIGHTS VIOLATION CHARGES FOR BOISE SHOOTERS.

Becca snapped the cover over the screen. “The Internet is flooded with this stuff. People arguing back and forth on both sides. It doesn’t matter what Danny did or didn’t do in Boise.”

“People are looking to make someone pay for this,” Sweeney said.

Becca reached out and squeezed my arm. “And I think maybe this is all out of control, bigger than the issue of figuring out who shot who that night.”

It was my turn for a drink. It burned so bad that my eyes watered. “Well, obviously the Fed knows I was there in Boise and maybe that I fired a round. I wonder who else they’re after.” I hoped they wouldn’t release our names publicly. The less people who knew about this, the better. I took another slug of the whiskey. “Thanks, everybody, for coming with me today.”

Cal jumped down off the railing, and I swear the bridge shook a little. “We’re your friends, man.”

Becca held out her fist for a bump. “With you all the way.”

“And while all of this is really touching,” Sweeney said, “and I’m glad we didn’t get killed in the chase today, I know that neither the sheriff nor the governor could keep Coach Shiratori from killing us if we miss football practice tonight. We better head back. I’m driving.”

We piled into Sweeney’s Mustang, and I started back to school with the greatest friends and girlfriend a guy could have.

We rode in silence for a while. Finally, when we were about halfway to the school, JoBell put her head in her hands. “Oh, we’re going to be in so much trouble.”

“Um, about that.” Becca reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. “Everybody chew this, so we don’t show up with alcohol on our breath.” She held the gum out to me. “Any chance the governor can get us off the hook with Mr. Morgan?”

“Relax,” I said. “If we didn’t get in trouble for that chase, they won’t touch us for skipping class. I think I can get Montaine to square things away with the school.” I hoped I was right.

“How?” Sweeney asked. He wasn’t doubting me. He sounded genuinely curious.

I pulled my comm and Sheriff Crow’s scrap of paper from my back pocket. “Governor Montaine sent me his personal comm number.”

“Bullshit!” Cal smiled. He grabbed the slip right out of my fingers.

JoBell took it from him and handed it back to me. “Oh, ’cause
that’s
so unbelievable after everything that’s happened today.”

“Well?” Sweeney said. “What are you waiting for?”

“What do you mean, what am I waiting for? Yeah, I’ve been to the governor’s mansion, but I was there along with my whole squad. It’s not like we’re best buddies. You’re talking about calling the governor. That’s a pretty big deal.”

“Do it!” Sweeney shouted.

“Hank, I want to add a new contact,” I said.

“My stars, you’re … a popular guy. You got it, buddy.”

I tapped Governor Montaine’s comm number into my contacts list. Sweeney looked over from the driver’s seat. “Get him on video,” he said. “I want to see him.”

“Hank, will you get me a video call with Governor Montaine?”

“Whooooie! You got friends … in high places. Calling now. Would … you like to hear one of my great country songs while —”

“Make the call, Hank,” JoBell said.

We waited for a long time. Montaine was the governor. On a normal day he was probably busy signing forms and attending meetings. Today he’d just ordered the arrest of seven FBI agents. I said, “He’s gotta be way too busy to —”

Wobbly live video popped onto the screen. Governor Montaine looked down at me. Behind his head was a white ceiling. He must have had his comm lying on his desk.
“Private,”
he said,
“it’s good to see you’re safe. When my people got word that the FBI were making a move on your school, I knew they must have been after you. Sheriff Crow came as fast as he could but … Well, I heard about what happened. I’m glad you were able to get away.”

“Gross, you can see his nose hairs,” Cal whispered.

“Yeah, not his best angle,” whispered Becca.

“I can’t believe he’s actually talking to the governor,” Sweeney said quietly.

Montaine sat up straighter.
“Is there someone there with you?”

I guess Sweeney hadn’t been quiet enough. I hope he hadn’t heard Cal. “My friends, sir. They were with me in the chase. They helped me get away.”

“Private, I told you not to tell anyone about what happened.”
Montaine’s jaw trembled a little, as if he was trying to hold in his anger.
“I can’t keep you and the others safe if too many people find out about this.”

“I trust them with my life, sir, and I won’t be telling anyone else.”

The governor pressed his lips together for a moment. I could tell he did not approve of me letting my friends in on the situation. Tough luck for him.
“Well, I don’t know how much longer we can keep it a secret now that the Fed has identified you.”

“Ask about help with Morgan,” Becca whispered.

“Sir, I know you’re busy, but I wanted to thank you for sending the sheriff and his men to help us today, and I’m … well … We were wondering if you could pull some strings with the principal at Freedom Lake High School, you know, because we did skip classes today.”

When Montaine laughed, the creases around his eyes deepened.
“I expect I can do something about that. In the meantime, for the safety of you and others, Private … kids” —
JoBell and Sweeney frowned at his use of the word
kids — “I expect that nobody else will know about this or about what happened at Boise. We’re doing our best to keep you safe, and I’ll be stepping up local law enforcement, but you still need to be alert and be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary.”

That was almost funny. Since Boise, nothing had been ordinary.

“Wilco, sir,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”

Governor Montaine nodded.
“We’ll be in touch.”
He tapped out of the call.

The five of us went back to school, trying to act like everything was normal.

*  *  *

That night’s practice was rough. It was hard to focus after what had gone down, and I could have done a lot better. Still, for the most part, it felt great. Football. Normal, hard-hitting football. What fall during my senior year was supposed to be all about.

By the time I made it home, I was shaky and tired. Mom would arrive in a few minutes, so I put my comm and truck keys on the kitchen table and set the kettle for tea. I’d probably have some too, to calm myself down after an insane day.

One thing was sure: In a small town, the best way to make sure everybody knows something is to try to keep it a secret. The FBI had showed up at school asking about me, and a bunch of people had been in the office along with Sweeney. Nobody kept their mouths shut. All afternoon people shot me nervous or curious looks in the halls. Some of the guys on the team flat-out asked me what it was all about. I didn’t answer, but how long would it take for people to start figuring out the truth?

“Danny?” Mom called from the living room. I hadn’t heard her car roll into the driveway. Good. I’d fixed the belts and must have done a good job.

“In here, Mom.” My chair scraped the linoleum as I pushed it back to stand up.

“Hey,” she said when she saw me, reaching out for a hug.

I hugged her and felt her kiss on my cheek. She squeezed me close and held on for a long time. Longer than normal, anyway. This could be trouble.

When I finally pulled away, I smiled to let her know that everything was all right. “I’ll have some tea on for you soon. Water should be boiling any minute. Why don’t you sit down in your chair?”

“I’m okay,” she said, leading me to the kitchen. “I’ll join you.” She took a seat at the table and motioned for me to sit down across from her. “You’ve been so busy lately with school and football, plus drill or work at the shop on weekends. Then when you
are
home, you’ve been so quiet, up alone in your room all the time. We never get to talk. Let’s talk.”

“Sure, Mom,” I said. She was right. We used to share everything, but lately, I’d kept my distance. “I mean, I have a lot of homework to do, but I have a little time.” This was at least partially true. I did have English and government homework, but I would probably just copy that from JoBell or Becca tomorrow before school.

Mom frowned and tipped her head back a little in that way she had that told me she didn’t believe me. “What’s new with you?”

“Nothing much,” I lied. “Football’s going great. Rodeo this Saturday.”

She shook her head and started picking the skin next to her thumbnail. “You know I hate you doing that rodeo stuff. At least in football you wear a helmet.”

The kettle began to whistle. Perfect timing. I stood up and went to take it off the stove, slipping one bag of chamomile tea into each of our cups before pouring in the boiling water.

“The thought of you being trampled by a bull in a rodeo or of you getting a concussion or worse in a football game makes me so nervous —”

I sighed. “Mom, I’ll be fine. I’ve played dozens of games and been to a bunch of rodeos. I’ll always be fine.”

She held up her hand. It was shaking a little. “As I was saying, I get nervous about you in those dangerous sports, but I know you’ll be okay. And I’m fine, mostly, knowing you’re involved in them.”

I took a sip of my tea. It burned the tip of my tongue. What was she getting at?

“I have my moments, but I can handle more than you think I can.”

“I know that, Mom.”

“Which is why I wish you’d tell me what really happened that last Friday in August.”

I almost spit out my tea. Some of it dribbled down my chin, and I quickly wiped it on my arm. What did she know? How did she find out? Maybe she was just bluffing, like she thought something was up, but she wasn’t sure what it was. “What do you mean? I went with Sweeney and the guys —”

“You went with some guys, but Eric wasn’t one of them,” she said. “Come on, Danny. The National Guard sent you to Boise, didn’t they?”

I hated lying to her. She looked mostly calm now. Her hands weren’t even shaking that much as she sipped from her cup. Maybe the tea was helping.

“Okay,” I said. This secret was getting harder and harder to keep locked down, but it was probably better she get the truth from me instead of some guy on the news. I slid my comm over from where I’d dropped it when I came in.

“Hank, silently bring up the CNN coverage from the August 27 Boise shooting story.”

The story came up with that horrible image as the lead photo. Could Mom handle seeing this? I could barely stand to look at it. I tilted the comm so the image would rotate right side up for her to see it.

“This is me, Mom.”

She gasped and put her hands over her mouth.

“I didn’t kill this girl. I was there trying to save her, but it was too late.”

I watched her carefully. Her hands shook even more when she lowered them to the table. Her breathing was level, though, and that twitch hadn’t started in her eye. The edges of the shadow were creeping in, but she hadn’t been overtaken yet.

“Let me tell you the truth,” I said. And I did, all the way up to a watered-down version of the car chase.

“Are you okay? Is JoBell and everyone else all right?” Mom said.

“Yeah, we’re all fine.”

She reached over and took both my hands together in hers. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

My muscles relaxed. Now that everyone in my closest circle of family and friends knew what had happened, knew what I’d done and didn’t hate me for it, I felt free. Like that feeling I’d get when the snow was all melted near the end of the school year, and the freedom of summer was near.

“I only hope I did the right thing,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

I took down a gulp of tea. Then another. “If I hadn’t fired that shot —”

“But you did,” she said. “That’s over.”

“I know, but I feel like this ongoing argument …” I pointed to the comm. “This Idaho standoff … is my fault. The president wants to arrest me. Maybe I could end a lot of this chaos if I give myself up and explain what really happened.”

Mom put down her teacup with a thud so loud, I thought it would break. “Now you listen to me.” The shaking was gone now and her eyes were a deeper blue than I could ever remember them being. “You owe those people nothing.”

“Mom —”

“Nothing! Do you hear me?”

“I swore an oath to obey the president and —”

“Has the president given you any direct orders? Has President Rodriguez activated you to federal duty under his command?”

“Well, no, but —”

“No buts, Danny. I’ve lost a husband to the Army. You’ve been without a father since you were eight years old, and I miss him every day.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “But I do know something about how all of this works. The governor is right. I don’t know about his other politics, and I don’t care, but he’s absolutely right in protecting you and the soldiers who were with you.”

She leaned back in her chair, wiped her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Oh, Danny, I might not look it, and I don’t always handle stress very well, but there is still strength in me. And if you give yourself over to those men in Washington, they better get ready, because I will be coming to get you back.” I laughed a little, but she didn’t. She was completely serious. “Even if the president did order you to turn yourself in, there’s more to life than duty, Danny. Remember that.”

“What about you?” I said. “You always do your duty as a mom.”

She leaned forward with her elbows on the table and a smile on her face. “That’s something I
choose
to do. Not out of duty. Out of love.”