Sabotage (Powerless Nation Book 3) (3 page)

BOOK: Sabotage (Powerless Nation Book 3)
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“He should have something to remember her,” said Dee. “I’ll be right back.”

Dee ran after the man, holding the collar in her hand. He took it from her with thanks, then turned and went into the night.

She stood for a few minutes, letting the crisp night air refresh her. There was no moon, but the stars twinkled at her from a cloudless sky. A sound nearby startled her, and she jumped. Out of the shadows another man materialized, holding his arms around his mid-section.

“Help me,” he said, coming towards her, and stumbled. Dee automatically moved to support him and he leaned heavily on her.

“Come on in,” said Dee. “My grandpa’s the doctor and he can help you.”

Once inside, Dee tried to help the man to a seat but he clung to her, so she took him to Linda at the front desk. “I’ve got a new patient here,” she said. “I think it’s serious.”

Linda looked up to assess the new patient and her face went very still, her movements careful. “Sure, Dee. I’ll show him to a room and send the doctor right in.” She didn’t look at his wound or call him by name like she had with the other patients.

“Is everything okay, Linda?” Dee asked.

“Of course, of course,” she said, coming around the counter and offering the man her arm.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll let Dee here help me,” he said.

“She’s just a volunteer,” said Linda. “She’s not qualified to help patients.”

“I said I want the girl’s help,” said the man, his voice loud and adamant. He drew a pistol out of the inner pocket of his coat and showed it to Linda. She stepped back.

“That’s better,” said the man. He gave Dee a hard smile. “Now, take me in back and we’ll wait for this grandpa of yours.”

CHAPTER THREE

D
EE
RISKED
A
GLANCE
at her mom. Claire rose to her feet, a stricken expression on her face. “Let me help you, sir. Dr. Kerns is my dad.”

“I’ve got all the help I need right here. Come on, girl. Show me to my room.”

The man leaned heavily on her, and Dee’s legs trembled, though she wasn’t sure whether it was from his weight or her own fear. Was this one of the men that had attacked the town tonight? What would he do to her?

“Come on,” she said, a quaver in her voice despite her efforts to stay calm.

She took him into the room where Mabel still lay on the exam table.

“What’s wrong with you people? Is this a hospital or a bunch of animal do-gooders?” the man sneered. He pushed at the body of the dog and it started to slide to the edge of the table. “That looks like the stupid mutt that bit my buddy earlier.”

“I’ll get her,” said Dee, moving quickly to keep the dog from falling off the table. She lifted Mabel’s body in her arms and set her gently on the tile floor before turning to the stranger. “Let’s get you up here so the doctor can examine you.”

He swayed on his feet and then sat down heavily in a plastic chair, still holding his gun. “Your grandpa better hurry up,” he mumbled. “I don’t feel so good.” He shook his head to clear it. “Doctor!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. “I need a doctor!” A moment later he shouted again. “A doctor, now! Or the girl’s gonna end up like the dead dog you got in here!”

Dee’s dad walked into the room, and she barely resisted the urge to run to him.
 

“I’m the doctor here,” Ted said. “What can I do for you?”

Before the EMP, Dee’s dad had spent long hours at the office every night and traveled frequently. When he was home he was too exhausted or distracted to spend time with his two kids. Dee grew up knowing that his work was important to him. She also knew he had a lot of regrets, especially after her brother was killed in a bicycle accident on his way home from school just over a year ago.

Although her father was very good at his job, he wasn’t a doctor. Yet here he stood in a white exam coat with a stethoscope around his neck. “What seems to be the trouble?”
 

“I took a bullet, Doc,” the man slurred. “I need a little patching up, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Come sit on the table so I can take a look at you.”

The man tried to get to his feet, but he was shaking too badly and sank back into the chair.

“On second thought, stay there. Let’s see what the problem is.” Ted put the stethoscope in his ears and stepped forward to listen to the man’s heart.

The man looked at Ted and narrowed his eyes. “Wait a minute—you ain't an old man! Who are you?”

The arm holding the gun began to rise to point at Ted. Before Dee could move, her dad pushed the man's arm to one side. The pistol discharged into the wall and the blast of the gun hammered in her ears.

Ted and the man struggled with the gun. Dee screamed.

“Get out of here!” shouted Ted, but Dee wouldn't leave him. She watched for an opening to help her dad, and when the man's wounded side was exposed, she kicked him directly where he'd been shot. He grunted in pain and backhanded her. She crashed into the wall, but the distraction was enough for Ted to keep the man's gun hand immobilized and he followed up with another punch to his side. He collapsed to the ground, and Ted took the gun.

“Are you okay, honey?” he panted.

“That was amazing, Dad,” Dee said, rising to her feet and touching her bruised cheek tentatively.

Her dad pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her to his chest. She savored the feeling of safety within her father's arms.

Claire rushed in and surveyed the scene. “Maddie! Ted! Are you okay?”

“Everything's fine, Claire,” said Ted, releasing Dee. “Let's get him tied up, and send someone out to find Max. I'm sure he'd like to ask him a few questions when he wakes up.”

*

The next morning, Dee woke up in an unfamiliar bed. The home they’d moved into had previously been owned by a family of four named Stevenson. Now it was one of many homes in Lookout Falls left empty by the devastating sickness and hunger that swept through the town following the EMP. Ted had scouted it out on a previous trip to town and said its wood burning stove and proximity to the medical clinic made it the perfect choice for their temporary winter quarters.

Waking up in one of the sons' rooms, Dee questioned whether ‘perfect’ was the right word for it. Apparently the teenage boy had liked the Seahawks—players
and
cheerleaders. She rolled her eyes. Maybe there'd be time to redecorate later. She glanced at the other empty bed in the room. Sena must already be up.

In the kitchen, Claire was brewing coffee and chatting with Sena about their plans for the day. When Dee walked in, Claire drew her over to the window to look at her cheek in the light.
 

“How bad is it?” Dee asked, wincing at her soft touch.

“Not too bad,” said Claire.

Dee looked at Sena for confirmation, and Sena dropped her gaze guiltily.

“All right, how bad is it really?”
 

“Do you remember when Daniel got a black eye in the
Karate Kid
?”

Dee groaned. “Which time?”

“We’d need Hyrum to answer that one,” Claire laughed, pushing Dee toward the table. “Now sit down and eat some breakfast.”

Thinking about Hyrum and his quirky movie taste brought a rush of homesickness for life back on the farm, and for Mason. Definitely Mason.
 

Dee smiled to herself, thinking about their date. It didn't seem like it had only been the previous night. She didn’t notice when her mom set a bowl of oatmeal in front of her. What was Mason doing today? Was he thinking about her?
 

Then she frowned. How many other girls had the best date of their lives and then ended the night as part of a hostage situation?

“Did Max find out anything about the man from last night?” she asked her mom.

“We haven't seen him yet,” said Claire. “He's called a town meeting for this morning. Your grandpa's going to check on his patients and then we'll head over. We're meeting at the church.”

“The church? That's where we rescued Mason last fall. Did you know his stepdad was going to have him shot?”

“You've only told me the story a few dozen times. I wouldn't mention it in front of your dad though. Last time he heard it he got pretty upset.”

“But, Mo-om,” Dee whined, pronouncing 'Mom' with two syllables. “Dad’s not being fair. It's not like I can avoid taking risks. Look what happened to me last night. I could have been killed and I wasn’t even doing anything dangerous. Things are different now.”

“He knows things are different, Maddie. That doesn’t change the fact that his only daughter risked her life to rescue a boy she barely knew at the time. We should be getting mad at you for sneaking out to go to parties or staying out past your curfew, not staging jailbreaks.”

Dee sighed. “For heaven's sakes, Mom. That was a one-time thing. I'm practically a farmer now. I'm so tired at night I couldn't party if I wanted to.”

Claire tried not to smile. “A farmer, eh? I guess that's one way to look at it. I doubt many farmers are sporting black eyes this morning though.”

“I just wish Dad trusted me. I want to prove to him I'm not the same as I was when you went on your trip. And I want him to like Mason.”

“One step at a time, honey. Why don’t you go on and get dressed? We’ve got to head over to the meeting soon.”

*

Dee couldn't suppress a shudder when she walked past the three wooden crosses in the front parking lot of the church. Only a few months ago, she, Mason, and Hyrum had been tied to these crosses, prisoners of Mason's stepdad, Hank. He’d been corrupt to begin with, and after the EMP he misused his authority as the sheriff to spread disease and fear, and prey on the sick and the helpless.

Inside the church, they were directed by a middle-aged woman to a large meeting room where rows of chairs faced a podium. Grandpa and several other older men and women occupied chairs at the front of the room, facing the audience.

A rumble of noise met her ears; the townspeople discussing the raid with neighbors. With a loud crack, Max called the meeting to order with a gavel he’d unearthed.
 

“People of Lookout Falls,” he began. “I’ve called this meeting because, as you know, our town was invaded last night. I'm sorry to report that we lost three of our friends and family in the violence.” He spoke solemnly, and announced each name of the deceased out loud.

“I wanna know who did it!” burst out one man. He was a big guy with huge hands clenched into ham fists.
 

“It was those losers over in Loserville,” said another man. He had a greasy-looking mullet and wore a puffy vest. “I say we go show them what for.”

“Quiet, everyone, quiet,” said Max. “Last night we managed to capture one of the invaders and question him. We didn't get much out of him before he passed on, but he said enough. They weren’t from Louisville—they’re from Spokane. It’s a big group, and there are more headed our way.”

The room erupted in gasps and speculation, then Max spoke over the crowd, capturing their attention once more. “That force last night was only their scout team. I got the impression that there’s worse yet to come.”

“What are we going to do, Max?” asked a well-dressed woman in an educated voice. “We're not set up to defend against an army.”

“Let’s open the floor to suggestions.”

“Could we build a wall?” asked a younger man. He was so thin Dee could see the sharp angles of his shoulder blades under the worn fabric of his flannel shirt.

“It would take too long,” answered the big man with the ham fists. “We don't have enough lumber in town, and we can’t mill more. Plus, the ground is frozen solid. There’s no way to dig post holes.”

“Why does it have to be made of wood?” asked Ted. Everyone turned to look at him.

“Who’re you?” asked a woman with a knit hat, twirling a long braid nervously around her finger.

“Everyone, this is my son-in-law, Ted Clark,” said Grandpa. “He and Claire were up near Seattle when the trouble started. He’s an engineer, he might have some good ideas.”

A few people nodded, and Ted continued. “We’ve got a town full of useless cars. We could use them to build car walls across the three main ways into town.” He got to his feet and showed them on the map.

“Blocking the roads won’t stop them,” pointed out the anxious woman with the braids. “They could just walk around the barricade.”

“True, but the barricade will keep their vehicles out, and allow us to control from which direction they come at us. Look here. We've got the river cliffs on one side, and Lookout Peak on the other. If someone tries to attack us, they’ll have to come in over the bridge, and then cut over the river bottoms south of town to avoid the barricades.”

“What if they do go around though? What are we going to do then?”

“Let ’em try it,” drawled a man in worn jeans with a rifle across his lap.

Ted nodded. “We can slow them down in the river bottoms on their approach, but then we’ll need a force here in town to take them on.”

“All right,” Max said, “so we’re going to build a wall. Do we all agree we also need some kind of militia?”

There were nods and murmurs of assent.

“By a show of hands, who is willing to train with and serve in the Lookout Falls Militia?”

Hands went up around the room. Dee raised her hand too, and her dad grabbed it and yanked it back down.

Dee shook him off. “Let me go, I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re too young to put your life on the line protecting a town that isn’t even ours. Let the citizens here defend their town.”

“So my life is more important than theirs?”

“It is to me,” he said quietly.

Dee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Not wanting to fight with her dad, she tried a new angle. “The militia will get weapons training. Do you remember what happened when I tried to shoot Hank? If Grandpa hadn't been there I'd probably be dead. I need training, Dad. I need to learn to fight so I can defend myself against threats. Like the jerk last night.”

“I'll defend you,” Ted said in a clipped tone. “You aren't joining the militia.”

Dee blinked back angry tears. He just didn’t get it. She couldn’t sit there with him for one more minute. She stood up.

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