Sabotage (Powerless Nation Book 3) (6 page)

“Good guess,” said Claire. “Grandpa has a surprise for you though. He wants you to meet him at the medical center after lunch. He will be done with his patients by then and he wants to show you something.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Claire said with a smile. “You’ll like it though.”

Dee moped around the house until after lunch and then went to find her grandpa at the clinic. Linda was at the front desk. “How’s our little pyromaniac?” she asked with barely hidden amusement.

“Library is still standing, so I’m not much of a pyro,” Dee replied. “Give me a few more days. Is Grandpa ready yet?”

“He sure is. He wants you to meet him around back.”

Dee was really curious now. She waved goodbye to Linda and went back outside. Behind the hospital her grandpa was loading his medicine bag on a blue and silver snowmobile.

“Grandpa!” Dee shrieked. “Where did you get that?”

A warm smile parted his thin lips. “The folks in town want me to make house calls, so I’ll be using this a few afternoons each week. I thought you might like to come with me.”

“Heck yeah!” Dee said enthusiastically. She pulled her stocking hat more snugly down over her ears and climbed on. “You know how to drive this thing, right?”

“Of course,” Grandpa said, handing her a helmet. “Hold on.”

He started the engine and the snowmobile leaped forward across the parking lot. This was going to be fun. Grandpa pointed the machine south and they set out. Dee laid her head against his shoulder as they crossed the windswept fields outside of town and drove alongside the frozen river. When they came to a narrow place, Grandpa drove right across it.
 

He headed for an older home situated at the end of a lane. The quiet of the winter day was shocking when Grandpa turned off the engine.

“Who lives here?” asked Dee.

“This is the old Graham place. Your grandma and I were good friends with the couple that used to live here. The man was named Edwin, and his wife was Ruby. Ruby loved to throw pizza parties. She invited us over at least three or four times a year, and she served the most delicious homemade pizza.”

Grandpa was silent for a few moments, reliving old memories.

“Ruby passed away a few years before your grandma died,” he said after a moment. “Edwin was still alive after the EMP though. I stopped by to see him as soon as we got things under control in town. He didn’t make it. Hyrum and Mason helped me bury him a few weeks ago.”

“Did he have a pacemaker too?”
 

“No, he was diabetic.”

“I didn’t think diabetes was a deadly disease.”

“It wasn’t, thanks to modern medicine. That’s all changed now,” said Grandpa. “Diabetics are dependent on a drug called insulin to regulate their blood sugar. With shipping completely stopped since summer, Homer couldn’t get any refills. He tried to make his medicine last, but it was summertime, and insulin needs to be refrigerated.”

“That’s awful,” Dee said sadly.

“I’d be surprised if there’s a single Type 1 diabetic that made it to Halloween.”
 

“I’m sorry about your friend, Grandpa,” Dee said, giving his hand a squeeze.

“There are a lot of tragedies,” said Grandpa. “Too many. Let’s get what we came for.”

Grandpa took his bag from the snowmobile and headed for the house, Dee following right behind him. Grandpa had a key, which he turned in the lock. The door swung open and they entered. It was dim inside, and Dee sneezed from the thick layer of dust on the furniture.

Photos covered almost every available surface, old fashioned portraits of stiffly posed couples in uncomfortably tight clothing, and laughing babies in yellowed Polaroids.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

Grandpa was in the kitchen searching through cupboards and drawers.

“I was remembering the other day that Edwin used to complain about his wife hoarding medicine. Apparently she never threw away a prescription, even after they were well past their expiration date. Some of that medicine might come in handy if he didn’t get rid of it after she died.”

“Even if it’s old?”

“Most medicine is fine well past its expiration. It might lose some of its potency, but it would be better than nothing.”

They searched the kitchen together, finding nothing useful. The food had already been claimed and taken for the residents of Lookout Falls.

They had better luck in the bathroom. A medicine cabinet opened to reveal three red prescription bottles. Grandpa read the labels by the light of his flashlight and looked pleased.

Dee carried them out to the living room where Grandpa started putting them in his medical bag. Dee caught a glimpse inside and was surprised to see it was nearly empty. There was a small bottle of Tylenol, a stitch kit for sewing up wounds, a ziplock baggy of antibiotics, and another of vitamins.

“Why do you carry this bag around, Grandpa? There’s next to nothing in it.”

“It makes folks feel better just seeing it,” he replied.

Dee looked at her grandpa in amazement. She realized that the main thing Grandpa offered people was his warm reassurance that everything would be fine. He was confident that they’d be okay, and they believed him.

“Time to get going,” he said, securing his bag to the snowmobile. “Our next stop is the Turners. They’ve got a new baby coming and I want to check on the mom, Darla.”

When they arrived at the Turners’, Grandpa stood in the yard and called toward the house. “Fred! It’s me, Doc Kerns.”

The door opened a crack and a pre-teen boy waved them inside.

“Come on in, Doc. You here to see my new baby sister? I got to name her.” The boy’s chest swelled with pride.

“That’s right, Charlie. How’s your mom feeling?” Grandpa kicked the snow off his boots and went inside. The house wasn’t much warmer than the outside air, and he left his hat and muffler on.

“She’s been sleeping a lot,” said Charlie, “but me and my dad are taking good care of Lizzie. That’s what I called her—Lizzie.”

“That’s a fine name,” said Grandpa.

Baby Lizzie was two days old, and pink as a summer poppy. Her little noises made Dee laugh. She sounded like a tiny baby elephant. Darla Turner was in good spirits too.
 

Dee wondered what it would be like to bring a baby into their current situation. She wasn’t sure she’d ever want to have kids, but there was no denying the joy Lizzie brought her family. The house was chilly, and everyone was wrapped up in blankets that hid their thin frames, but their faces glowed with happiness.

When it was time to leave, Grandpa counted out a few of his precious vitamins for Darla and promised to return in a few weeks to make sure Lizzie was gaining weight like she should be. Dee must have been smiling because Grandpa grinned at her.
 

“I have something else I want to show you.” Dee hung on while Grandpa drove her a few miles from the house. They crossed several fields and a small wooded area until they reached a clearing. Grandpa parked the snowmobile next to a sturdy old oak tree.

“What is this place?” asked Dee.

“It’s my thinking place,” said Grandpa. “When your grandma was still alive I’d come out here with my gun and tell her I was fixing to bring home a buck. Most of the time I’d take a nap up there in my deer stand. It’s nice and cool in the summer shade.”

Dee looked up at a primitive treehouse, not much more than a wooden platform and rickety ladder in the oak tree.

“What are we doing here now, though? Do you need to catch a quick nap?” she teased.

“Not today,” said Grandpa. “Come on over here, and bring me that bag.”

Dee slung the bag over her shoulder. It was light, despite its large size. “What do you have in here?”
 

“Go ahead and open it,” said Grandpa.

Dee reached into the bag and pulled out an empty can of beer. “If you were planning to get me so drunk I’d swear off drinking forever, you forgot the actual beer,” she joked.

Grandpa’s face was serious. “I brought you out here to teach you to shoot a gun.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

G
RANDPA
TOOK
A
HANDGUN
out of the side pocket of his medicine bag and Dee’s smile faded. It was the one Mason had given her. She hadn’t seen Mason in several weeks, and she wondered what he was doing now. Probably tinkering with something, trying to make life without electricity a little easier. Maybe she and Grandpa could stop by the farm with the snowmobile one of these days. At the thought, she couldn’t keep her lips from curving back into a smile.

“Are you listening to me, Maddie?” asked Grandpa, his eyes stern. Dee made herself focus on what he was saying. “I want you to understand that a gun is serious business. You should never point one at someone you wouldn’t be willing to shoot. A gun isn’t for making idle threats.”

Grandpa reached into his pocket and pulled something out and unfolded it. It was a large piece of butcher paper with the outline of a man drawn on it.

“Put this up on that tree there,” said Grandpa, handing her a pushpin. Dee pinned the man target onto the tree, slightly stunned that Grandpa was giving her shooting lessons against her father’s wishes.

She paid close attention while Grandpa demonstrated how to hold a gun, and how to remove the safety. “You always want to keep it pointed at the ground, even if it’s not loaded. And you
never
wave a loaded gun around.” He handed her the loaded gun, the grip still warm from his hand. “Now, before you remove the safety, let me describe a situation to you. See that target over there? Think of him as a real man. He can be Hank if you want. He’s carrying a knife, and he’s broken into your house. He doesn’t know you’re here yet. Are you prepared to kill him?”

Dee’s stomach flip-flopped. “You said he broke into our house and he has a knife, right?”

Grandpa nodded.

Dee closed her eyes and imagined an intruder in the farmhouse, someone who might hurt Sammy or Katy. She steeled herself and opened her eyes. “Yes, I could kill him. Should I try it now?”

“First, tell me what you’d do.”

“I’d aim it at him and pull the trigger.”

“No,” said Grandpa. “That’s
not
what you should do. At this range your chances of hitting him are pretty low, especially because you haven’t had any practice. Get closer to him. Go on, walk up to him.”

Dee took a few steps closer to the paper target. She was still ten feet away.

“Closer, Maddie.”
 

Dee took five more steps. She could practically touch the target.

“All right, now don’t take the safety off. Show me where you’d aim.”

Dee lifted the gun and pointed it at the head of the target.

“Wrong,” said Grandpa.

“Won’t he die if I shoot him in the head?”

“Only if you make the shot. The head is a small target. Think. Where will you have the best chance of hitting him?”

Dee lowered the gun until it pointed at the target’s chest.

“Good,” said Grandpa. “You’ve got your target acquired, he’s moving toward you, he’s seen you. What do you do?”

“I shoot him in the chest.”

“How many times?”

“Three or four? Save some bullets in case I miss?”

“No. You are going to empty the entire clip into him.”

“The whole thing?”

“Maddie, if you ever have to shoot a man—and I pray to God you never will—you aren’t aiming to wound him. You are shooting to kill him.”

Dee looked at the paper target and swallowed hard. She could do this. She squeezed the trigger and the gun jumped back in her hands. She fired again and again until the empty chamber clicked. Her ears ringing, Dee lowered the gun slowly and stared at the paper target.

The entire abdomen was shot out, the edges burnt and shredded.
 

If this had been a real person he wouldn’t have a stomach now. He’d look like raw meat.

Grandpa’s warm hand closed over hers and gently took the gun from her.

“You okay, Maddie-girl?”

She nodded, still not speaking.

“Your dad’s a good man, and I respect that he wants to protect you from danger and violence. I don’t like going against his wishes, but I’m getting old, Maddie.”
 

Dee met her grandpa’s eyes in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You need to know how to take care of yourself. What if I hadn’t had the gun in the barn when Hank came after you? It keeps me up at night thinking about it sometimes.”

Dee looked at her feet. “Can I ask you something?”

“You know you can.”

“Was Hank the first man you killed?”

Grandpa gazed into the distance. “Yes.”

Dee waited but he didn’t elaborate, so she asked, “What was it like?”

She wasn’t sure he would answer, but after a long pause he said, “I had so much adrenaline pumping through me I’m surprised my heart could take it. Afterward, I saw what I’d done to him.” Grandpa took the gun from her and began to reload it. “He didn’t leave me any choice. That’s how I live with myself. I want you to remember that, Maddie. If you take a life you’ll have to live with it for the rest of yours. It’s a decision you may have to make quickly. Never make it lightly.”

Grandpa handed her the loaded weapon and she looked down at it. It was heavier than before.

“How about some target practice now?” said Grandpa. “We don’t have a lot of bullets, so we need to make them count.”

By the end of the afternoon, Dee was cold and tired, but much more confident about using a gun. Besides shooting, she’d learned to load and unload, clean, and carry the weapon Mason had given her. She wished he could have been there.

“Thanks, Grandpa,” she said after the gun was safely stowed in his medicine bag. When she hugged him he smelled like the day—crisp, with a hint of wood smoke.

“You’re welcome,” said Grandpa. “One last thing. About your dad—”

“If he asks where we’ve been, I’ll tell him we were just killing time.”

Grandpa’s eyes twinkled at her. “That’s probably for the best.”

*

After waiting a few days to air out the smoke, the library was re-opened for school, however, Dee wasn’t invited back to teach. Instead, she helped her mother with the chores in the mornings, and in the afternoons she made house calls with Grandpa on the snowmobile. Sometimes he let her drive, and if they finished early enough, he took her to his secret hunting spot and she practiced shooting.