Sanctuary: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series) (11 page)

Nelson looked to Scott and returned his look with a raised eyebrow.

“Nelson, I assume you’re not from around here, are you? I don’t know if you know about snow like we have here in Idaho. How when it freezes over, you can see a person’s tracks for days. Well, we tracked my brother to this neighborhood, to that house,” Truman said, pointing to Nelson and Samantha’s house. “We have a place like this over the hill. My little brother was watching you guys. He would drone on and on about some little blonde here. Well, yesterday he got drunk and left my house saying he was going to get laid. That’s the last time I saw him. We tracked his footprints in the snow to that hill there, but then we noticed somethin’ a little suspicious. We can’t find his tracks back.”

Not knowing how to respond, Nelson nervously shot back, “You need to leave now, this is private property!”

The barn door opened and Haley ran out and grabbed Nelson’s hand.

“Haley, come back here!” Samantha commanded from inside the barn.

Nelson looked down at her and whispered, “You need to go back inside. Mind your mother and go, now.”

Haley had seen enough already to know that something bad was about to happen. “Leave us alone!” she yelled at the men.

Truman and his men looked at each other and laughed at Haley’s command.

“Oh my God, you’re so precious. What’s your name?”

Samantha marched out of the barn and grabbed Haley by the arm.

Truman laughed out loud and commented, “Is this my brother’s little blonde beauty?”

Samantha shot Truman a look and pulled Haley back inside the barn against her will.

“By the looks of her face, I’d say she likes it rough. Or did she get those bruises somewhere else?” Truman asked as he pulled back his coat to expose his holstered pistol. His men adjusted themselves and spread their stances.

Nelson swallowed hard. His vision narrowed and his palms began to sweat. His pistol was tucked in the small of his back and he tried to anticipate the best way to react. A fight was coming and the odds were not in his favor.

“Listen . . .” Nelson said, his voice cracking.

Then suddenly, like the Seventh Cavalry, a truck rumbled down the small street and pulled down the driveway just behind Truman and his men.

Both doors on the old pickup opened up and out came Mack and Eric. Nelson’s father, Frank, and another man who lived in the neighborhood jumped out of the bed.

“Nelson, is everything all right?” Eric asked, looking at the men. He had a shotgun in his hand.

“Eric, Mack, Dad, good to see you,” Nelson said.

“Where’s my brother? I’m not going to keep asking!” Truman exclaimed.

“These guys came here looking for someone, and we told them that no one has been here in weeks. They were just leaving,” Nelson said to Eric, answering his previous question.

Mack and Frank had spread apart and chosen their targets.

“Truman, I don’t know your brother nor have I seen him. Now please leave; this will not end up how you hoped it might,” Eric said.

Truman looked at Eric, then back to Nelson. He paused and said, “Guys, let’s keep looking for him.” He then walked up to Nelson and stood inches away. “I know he was here. If I find out he never left, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Nelson stared into Truman’s dark brown eyes and said, “If your brother was how you described him, maybe you should be looking in the closest ditch. Now, get out of here.”

Truman grimaced and motioned for his men to follow him.

“We’ll escort you gentlemen out the front,” Nelson quipped.

Eric nodded and said, “This way.”

Following Eric, Truman turned around one last time and winked at Nelson. It sent a chill up his spine.

 • • • 

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”

—Abraham Lincoln

Coos Bay, Oregon

R
oger was an adaptable politician. He knew that in the old conventional world, what Barone had done would not go unpunished. But in this new world, Barone promised his small town a chance to survive and flourish. Yet Roger’s coalition with the other town leaders was fracturing quickly. In their attempt to convince the three dissenters to acquiesce to Barone’s plan, they had lost two others. The five leaders who had rallied against Barone could not see the consequences of expelling Barone. A call for a return to civilian control of the military was on the rise.

He was not looking forward to telling Barone the latest development. Sitting outside Barone’s office in the old finance department of city hall, he anxiously awaited the meeting.

The door opened and Simpson came out. “Come on in.”

Roger stood, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, and walked into the office.

Barone stood over a small table looking at a map of southern Oregon and Northern California. His brow was furrowed and he appeared to be lost in thought.

Roger cleared his throat.

“Ah, go ahead and sit, Mr. Timms. Sorry, I just had a briefing on some activity to the south,” Barone said without looking at him.

Roger sat down like a nervous student awaiting the principal. Barone pulled himself away from the map and walked to his desk. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not,” Barone said as he reached to the bookcase behind the desk and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“Colonel, we have a problem.”

Barone took a large swig of whiskey. He turned and sat down in the worn leather chair. “Doesn’t every day pose a problem?”

“We now have five council members that are opposed to you staying here,” Roger said.

Barone laughed and said, “Really? Can you remind me who wants me and my Marines to leave?”

“The original dissenters were Mayor Brownstein, Milford, Franklin, and now they’ve convinced Peloni and Harper. They have told me they are not willing to change their minds and are actively courting the others. They plan to announce their decision tomorrow.”

“How nice of them,” Barone joked. “Well, how can we convince them otherwise?”

“It’s not that easy, Colonel.”

Barone poured himself another drink. With drink in hand, he walked to the bank of windows that overlooked the street below his second-story office.

Below he saw a perfect blending of townspeople and his troops, living in harmony. The coordination had gone seamlessly. He couldn’t have these few people causing a disturbance.

Turning back around, he asked, “What do they want? I know you politicians. You always want something.”

“Colonel, I’m serious. These people—the mayor specifically—are hardnosed and principled. Brownstein won’t budge. She’s actually stating that you either need to leave or face a trial for your crimes.”

“Crimes?” Barone laughed. He went back to his chair and sat down. “Mr. Timms, this is all crazy talk. Do I need to remind them of the advantages they have from our being here?”

“I’ve told them, but she is the one leading this. She’s a very patriotic person.”

“I’ve heard enough. Please set up a meeting as soon as you can so I can discuss this with them,” Barone said, leaning forward. He sat his drink down and clasped his hands together before he continued. “Mr. Timms, I want to thank you for coming to see me about this. You are a friend.”

“Colonel, what happened before is the past to me. I can see with my own eyes what good you’re doing for us. I’ve told you before. I want you to stay.”

“I want to stay too,” Barone said. He shifted in his chair and looked over at the map sitting on the table. “Sorry to be rude, but I have to get back to some of the other daily problems I’m plagued with. I look forward to hearing back from you soon.”

Roger stood up quickly and headed for the door. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Mm-hmm. Tell Master Sergeant Simpson to come in here, please,” Barone called out.

“Sure thing,” Roger said as he opened the door.

As if he had been listening to their conversation, Simpson was standing right there at the entrance to the office.

“The colonel—”

“Thank you, Mr. Timms,” Simpson said and walked past him and closed the door.

When Simpson walked in, Barone was pouring his third drink. “Top, you might have been right. I need you to keep tabs on the following people.”

Barone quickly ran down the list of the local leaders who were opposed to them. He gave Simpson some guidance on what he wanted, from following them to monitoring where they went and who they spoke to. He instructed him to plant Marines in plain clothes in any public meetings. He needed human intelligence as to what they might be doing.

“Yes, sir, I’ll get right on this,” Simpson acknowledged, turning to leave.

“One more thing, Top. Recall all our forces. We might need them here.”

South of Roy, Utah

“I gotta piss,” Brandon said from the backseat of the crew cab truck.

“I’ll pull over up ahead. Just hold it for a bit longer. And stop with the vulgarity,” Sebastian chided.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot we’re not supposed to curse in the apocalypse,” Brandon said sarcastically.

Sebastian adjusted the rearview mirror so he could see him. In response, Brandon lifted up his middle finger.

Sebastian nodded and readjusted the mirror back.

The four had been on the road since the early morning. It had started out uncomfortably for Sebastian and Annaliese, but within a few hours they began to carry on a light conversation. The boys acted like typical boys on a road trip. They bantered, laughed, made fun of things they saw. Annaliese tried to play a few games she grew up with, like “I spy with my little eye.” Luke was a good sport, but Brandon mocked her and the game. Sebastian played along while monitoring the road ahead, looking for any threats.

When they had pulled out of the compound in the early morning, they drove off with Sariah crying and waving. Annaliese had an intense premonition that she’d never see her mother again. They embraced for a long time, and many tears were exchanged. Sariah told her that she was welcome back anytime, but Annaliese knew that only pertained to her and not to her husband. This hurt her, as it pitted her feelings for Sebastian against her own mother. She prayed that time would heal the wounds of the past few weeks and that the altercation with Samuel could be forgotten. But until then, the time needed to pass. She and Sebastian still hadn’t completely dealt with the incident. It was a conversation they’d have to have and she wanted to make sure it was done in a way that benefitted them both.

Sebastian planned the trip carefully and estimated it would take them five days to travel the five hundred miles to McCall. However, he began to recalculate the instant they drove onto the freeway. Icy spots, old packed snow drifts, abandoned cars, and trash slowed them down. Fear of hitting something buried in some of the patchy areas of snow caused him to drive slower than he wanted. They had been driving for over seven hours and they had only gone forty miles. He was not happy at all. Soon the sun would be setting and he was not even halfway to where he wanted to be for the night.

Seeing a grouping of abandoned cars ahead of him on the freeway, he slowed and pulled in behind one of the cars.

“Here’s your pit stop,” he said to Brandon.

“It’s about time,” Brandon mocked. He opened the truck and stepped out. “It’s as cold as a witch’s tit,” he said, then slammed the door.

“That boy is incorrigible,” Annaliese said.

“What am I supposed to do, put him over my knee?” Sebastian asked.

“Actually, he needs a good spanking. I bet he was a spoiled as a child,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to go too,” Luke said, jumping out.

“They couldn’t be any more opposite,” she remarked.

Laughing, Sebastian joked, “I know, good and evil.”

Sensing he was a bit tense, she reached out and touched his arm. “What’s the matter, hon?”

“Oh, we’re a bit behind schedule, that’s all. Do me a favor. In the glove compartment there should be a map and a paper with coordinates and frequencies.”

She rustled around and grabbed what he needed. They both discussed a more realistic travel plan for the day. After a few minutes, they noticed that the boys hadn’t returned.

“Stay in here. Keep the truck running and the doors locked,” Sebastian ordered and stepped out.

The cold wind was whipping down the dead freeway. He looked in both directions, but he didn’t see them. He saw Brandon’s footprints and began to follow in earnest. He pulled out his pistol and peered around a tractor trailer. Nothing. The tracks led down the length of the semi until they disappeared into a clump of wrecked cars.

From the looks of the cars and their arrangement on the road, they had collided with each other.

“Argh!” a voice screamed out.

The scream came from the cars in front of the tractor trailer. Not hesitating, Sebastian sprinted as best as he could.

He came up just behind the group of cars with his pistol outstretched when a snowball hit him in the face.

“Ha, ha! That was awesome!” Brandon laughed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sebastian yelled.

“Oh, now it’s okay to curse?” Brandon asked sarcastically.

“I thought someone was in trouble!” Sebastian yelled at him. Anger overcame him as he marched over to Brandon. “Don’t fuck around, ever again!”

Brandon stepped back when Sebastian got in his face. “Chill out. Just trying to have a bit of fun.”

“What are you, a fucking child? Stop your bullshit, Brandon. I don’t need it, nobody needs it.”

Holding up his arms, he said, “Sorry. Just thought a bit of fun would be fine.” Brandon walked around as Sebastian headed back to the truck.

“Where’s Luke?” Sebastian asked, looking around.

“I think he’s over there,” Brandon said, pointing to another group of cars about twenty feet away. Then under his breath he said, “Dick.”

Sebastian walked to the group of cars and there he found Luke crying, kneeling next to a car.

“Luke, are you all right?”

Startled by seeing Sebastian, Luke wiped the tears from his eyes and cheeks. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He stood up, brushed by Sebastian, and walked away quickly.

Sebastian looked at the car. The front end was crushed from a collision with the car in front of it. The engine had been pushed back into the cab. He looked inside and saw two corpses. Their bodies hadn’t completely decomposed; the cold air partially mummified them. Their hands were clasped together in what must have been their last demonstration of love and devotion. He then glanced in the back and saw an infant carrier and the body of a baby. Seeing this repelled him. He looked back toward Luke, who was shuffling toward the truck.

“Luke, wait up,” he called out. He jogged to catch up. A dull throb from his leg slowed him.

“Leave me alone,” Luke said, his voice still showing the signs of his crying.

“Want to talk?”

“What did I say? Leave me alone.”

Sebastian let Luke proceed, understanding that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about what he just saw.

Sebastian stood out on the cold, windy freeway and watched Luke get back in the truck. He could only imagine that seeing this family had brought up painful memories for Luke. It was a shame that this new world had inflicted such horrors on young minds. Sebastian didn’t know if he could ever provide the home that Luke desperately sought, but in that moment, he promised himself that he would try.

One mile north of Rajneeshpuram

The compound was immense. From Gordon’s count there were eight large permanent structures and one massive barn that he estimated was 25,000 square feet. The area didn’t look like a compound used by crazed religious leaders, but it was now the home of one.

Gordon and his group had arrived late yesterday. They established a campsite north of the compound and took advantage of elevation to scout and recon. The recon was a success and had given them the necessary information about the compound and its structure. It was nestled in a small valley, with six roads leading into it. The number of roads forced Rahab’s groups to be scattered over a much larger area than was necessary in his desert compound.

“How many people did you count?” Gordon asked Lexi after she returned from her recon to the north.

“He’s got two men on each road leading into the compound, so twelve right there. On the grounds themselves, I counted eight men walking the perimeter and only a handful milling about,” she said.

“Where do you think he’s keeping the prisoners?” Gordon asked.

“It’s a guess, but he only seems to be using that main building and the barn. He might be keeping everyone close,” Lexi theorized.

“Here’s a sketch of the area. From here to here, it looks to be about a thousand feet,” Gordon said, pointing to the square that represented the main building and the barn.

“So a rough head count is . . . ?” Rubio asked.

Gordon and Lexi looked at each other.

“Go ahead, smarty-pants, what do you think?” Lexi joked with Gordon.

“I’d say we’re looking at about forty to fifty people down there. This is based on what we’ve seen and my memory of what he had before.”

“Has your girlfriend started talking yet? Maybe she could help firm up those estimates,” Rubio asked Lexi. He was referring to the woman they had picked up yesterday, who had woken up to discover all of her friends were dead.

Lexi pointed her middle finger at Rubio, then blew a kiss. “She hasn’t said a damn thing. So far she’s been useless.”

“So, based on your estimates, we’re looking at upwards of forty armed people and we have three men, one pissed-off lesbo, and Jonesy, who’s now a gimp.”

“You know I probably
would
turn gay if I had to look at your little dick all the time,” Lexi cackled.

Jones chuckled loudly.