The Alpha Chronicles (27 page)

Terri smiled broadly. “We look forward to having you visit, Sheriff. If there’s any way you could let us know when you’re coming, we
might be able to organize a barbecue.”

Nodding, an unusual look crossed the lawman’s face. “Is there a functional church in either town?”

Deacon Brown glowed at the inquiry. “Why yes, there is. We just had a beautiful Christmas service. You and your people are always welcome – regardless if you take us up on our offer or not.”

Watts smiled, “How about we come calling Sunday? My wife and I would welcome hearing a good choir and God’s word. I know it would renew this old soul of mine.”

Diana stood and offered her hand. “So, we have a date then. Services start at 10 in Alpha. Ask anybody for directions to the church. We look forward to seeing you, Sheriff.”

Diana stood at the church’s door, shaking hands and greeting everyone as they left the service. It had been another packed house
, with extra folding chairs required to house the worshipers. The fact that over 40 law enforcement officers and their families had attended made her Sunday morning even brighter.

While she was hugging babies and grasping hands, Diana noticed all of the visitors from
Wal-Mart were huddled in one section of the pews, apparently having a private meeting. Eventually the line of parishioners dwindled, and the elders were almost through cleaning up after the service. Diana decided to let the visitors have their privacy and found Nick on the front steps talking with Terri and Bishop.

“Are they still in there having a meeting?” asked Terri.

“Yes. I thought I’d let them have their privacy. We’ve presented them with quite the dilemma, I’m sure.”

The door behind the d
eacon opened abruptly, Sheriff Watts and his people exiting quietly and filling the front steps.

“Diana, we would like to take a tour of the town, if that’s all right with you. My deputies are interested in seeing some of the available housing. Some of our
folks with young ones would also like to discuss what the town’s plans are for a school.”

Smiling,
Bishop stepped forward and said, “I’ll be happy to give a tour of the school. It’s not far, so we can just walk over if you wish.”

Nick volunteered to give a tour of the
downtown business district, including the courthouse, police department, and jail. Diana added that everyone was welcome to wander around on their own as they wished.

A few minutes later,
Bishop left with several moms and a few fathers in tow, the group laughing as they began the short trip to the school building.

Sheriff Watts hung back, waiting until his people had scattered with their tour guides. Diana approached the tall man and asked, “You’re not interested in seeing the town, Sheriff?”

A friendly look filled the man’s eyes, “I saw everything I needed to see this morning during the service, Miss Brown. I’m a professional people-watcher… in a way. No offense, but my eyes were on the town’s people more than the pulpit. I saw what I needed to see in their faces. You’re doing a good thing here, and I personally want to be a part of it.”

The lawman’s statement brought a smile to Diana’s face, “Why thank you, Sheriff. That makes me feel good inside.”

“I’m not a dictator, Miss Brown. I can’t order my people to leave the safety of the distribution center. I won’t do that. You’ve sold me, and I believe most of my people, but I’ve got to let them make up their own minds.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, sir.”

Terri cleared her throat and looked down shyly. “Sheriff, when you gave us a tour of the distribution center, I noticed a truck full of deer corn. It was backed up to the dock, but the trailer looked completely full. Are you folks using that feed?”

The lawman shook his head, “No, we’ve not been able to find any use for it. You can’t eat it. We’ve even tried to make bread out of it, and that experiment failed badly. Right now it’s just sitting there taking up space.”

“If I were to offer you a trade… say 10 sides of beef for that load of corn, would you consider it?”

Watts thought for a moment before answering, “I don’t see why not. As long as you had the truck to haul
it off. We haven’t started any of those diesel motors in months. I’m not sure they’ll run, and we’ve drained all the fuel out anyway.”

Terri stuck her hand out, “We have a deal then, Sheriff. In a few days, you’ll be seeing a truck coming up your lane. Please do not shoot at it.
It
will be me coming to deliver the beef in exchange for the corn.”

The sheriff nodded, “Okay, I’ll let the boys know. That brings up a good point. How should we communicate? I don’t want any accidents on either side.”

“Do you have HAM radio capability?” Diana interjected.

“No, no we don’t. The radios in our patrol cars are short range without the tower.
We’ve found CB radios inside the center, but nothing long range.”

Diana rubbed her chin for a bit before brightening. “How about plain old white flags? Will you honor a white flag?”

Again, it took Watts a few moments to consider. “I suppose so. We’ve not had any trouble for months, with the exception of your husband, ma’am. I’ll give orders to honor a white flag.”

A few hours later, the
lawmen and their families gathered again on the church steps, the general mood upbeat and positive. As soon as everyone was accounted for, Sheriff Watts passed the word to everyone to load up into their cars.

Goodbyes and waves filled the air as the sheriff approached Diana. “We’re on our way to Meraton to see the market and
talk to the mayor there. Afterwards, we will want to talk things over for a day or two. I’ll send word as soon as we’ve reached a decision.”

“Thank you, Sheriff. You and your people are always welcome in Alpha, even if you decide not to join our communi
ty. Please come back to our services regardless of what you decide.”

Tipping his hat
, Sheriff Watts strolled to the lead patrol car and began what was a long convoy of vehicles out of the church’s parking lot. Diana, Nick, and Terri stood and waved until the last car was on its way west.

Midland Station, Texas

February 3, 2016

Lou’s earplug sounded with a crack of static followed by a transmission. His gaze dropped to the floor as he listened in silence, his index finger pressing the tiny device tight into his ear. “Hold them there,” was his response after the report had finished.

The security man turned to Mr. Lewis and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir.”

A glance from the nearby desk gave Lou permission to continue. “We have Dr. Prescott with a fully loaded sedan, his wife, and daughter at the west roadblock. They’re trying to leave.”

Cameron looked up from his stack of papers with a questioning expression. “What exactly does the term ‘fully loaded’ mean, Lou?”

“All of their personal belongings are packed in the car, sir.”

“I see. Inform your men that I request a word with the good doctor. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Lou transmitted the ‘request,’ and then called for additional men to escort Mr. Lewis for the trip. In a few minutes, a black SUV exited the parking garage at the headquarters building and proceeded on the cross-town excursion.

Cam
eron rarely traveled through this section of Midland Station, his rapt attention on the surroundings passing by his window. It would be easy for the eye to be drawn to the destruction. Entire blocks of homes burned to the foundation – evidence of a fire department that could no longer respond. Several automobiles were overturned, their rusting frames surrounded by piles of blackened ash and pools of melted plastic – a symptom of rioting that the local police force couldn’t contain.

Mr. Lewis had seen all of those sights a hundred times before
, and they held little of his attention. His examination focused on the people, and the prognosis wasn’t good. Rail thin and grungy looking citizens were visible here and there, most of them shuffling along with stooped shoulders and distant gazes. The images reminded Cameron of the black and white newsreels from WWII - footage of disheveled, defeated refugees fleeing a conquering army.

The comparison pushed Cameron’s mind to another analogy from that same war – the citizens of Midland Station bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the films of concentration camp survivors. Dark, sunken eyes that didn’t focus
, atop skin and bones bodies that ambled about with no vigor or purpose.

Exhaling loudly, Cameron turned away from the SUV’s window glass, and
concentrated on the back of Lou’s head in the front seat. Despite removing the visual, his mind couldn’t ignore the image. Most of the problem was hunger. Adequate nourishment would go a long way to improve people’s lives. But Cameron knew it was more than that - hope was evaporating in Midland Station.

Calories were critical, but people also needed the chance to progress – to improve their lives.
Hell
, he thought
, I’m sick and tired of the whole ordeal, and I’m eating quite well
.

His analysis was interrupted by the slowing of the SUV, a signal they had reached their desti
nation. Lou and the security team exited the vehicle first, scanning for trouble and doing their job before opening the door for their charge. Cameron stepped out, immediately surprised by the scene.

A line of cars, wagons, bicycles and just about every other method of transportation imaginable was waiting to leave Midland Station. Frowning, Mr. Lewis scanned the exodus, intrigued by the ingenuity of the transportation and the attitude of the travelers. Bundles of clothing were secured to makeshift carts being towed by bicycles. The few automobiles were stuffed to capacity, trunks overflowing
with bags and personal items - lids held down by strands of rope or yards of duct tape circling the bumper.

Some people carried their earthly possessions on their backs, enormous hiking packs bulging with content. One couple simply pulled along wheeled suitcases as if they were traveling through an airport.

But there was something else – something beyond the creativity of transportation. 

These people carried themselves differently, he realized. While they were still thin, heads were held higher
, and eyes were brighter than the people Cameron had just passed by in the town. There was a hint of purpose in their step.
Optimism
, thought Cameron,
The word I would use to describe these people is optimistic. They’re looking forward to something – thinking about the future.

Mr. Lewis’
gaze focused on a car that had been pulled out of line, a security man and driver standing by the hood having a conversation. With his ring of security tightly around him, Cameron moved closer, his presence drawing attention from everyone in the area.

“Hello, Danny,” Cameron said to the driver, “I was quite surprised to hear you were leaving town.”

Dr. Daniel Prescott wasn’t embarrassed, but pretended to be. “I’m sorry, Cameron. I should have stopped in and said ‘Goodbye.’ It seems like you’re always so busy, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“A bother? M
y best friend from high school - the town’s most respected physician - a man I’ve always considered trustworthy, is leaving town and doesn’t even send me a note?”

Shaking his head and looking down, Dr. Prescott responded with a quiet voice. “I was concerned you’d try and talk me out of it, Cameron. Or worse yet, forbid me to…
.”

“To what, Danny?” Cameron snapped. “Forbid you to sneak off in the middle of the night and leave everyone who depends on you behind to fend for themselves?” Cameron waved his hand through the air, clearly dismissing the man in front of him. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t stop you, but I do have one question. Where are you going to go? What par
adise summons you so strongly to make the physician violate his oath?”

Dr. Prescott ignored the bait over his oath,
and looked at his former friend through melancholy eyes. “We’re heading to Alpha, Cameron. Word is they have electricity and food. People say they’re rebuilding, and I want a future for my daughter. Cindy and I want to be a part of that.”

Snorting, Cameron’s voice became mono
tone. “You have all of that here, Doctor.
Your
family isn’t starving,
your
daughter is in school, and I see lights on in
your
home at night. There’s something else, and I’m insulted that
you
, of all people, don’t have the courage to say it to my face.”

“Okay,
Mister
Lewis,” the doctor hissed, “I’ll spell it out for you. I want to live in a place where there’s a future. I want to live among people who determine their own fortune, choose their own leaders, and live in a free society. You’ve lost touch with reality, my old friend. Your priorities are protecting a company, not the people you grew up with, and I don’t want to be a part of this any longer.”

Dismissing the statement with a wave of his hand, Cameron retorted, “All of that bullshit
about Alpha is just rumor and fantasy. You’re chasing rainbows, Doctor. Regarding your high-minded statement about protecting my company, you’re absolutely right. Without Lewis Brothers Oil, there are fewer people left alive in our little berg, sir. Without the corporation, there’s nothing.”

“You’ve got that backwards, Cameron. Without the people, there is no Lewis Brothers Oil.”

Pointing his finger at Prescott’s chest, Cameron’s voice filled with rage. “I won’t debate this with you. If you want to leave, then leave. But before you go, I need to be assured you’re not absconding with any company property, Danny.”

“I’m not a thief, Cam. You know that.”

“I thought I knew a lot of things before today, Danny. Where did you get the gasoline in your car?”

The question seemed to surprise the physician. “I… I… I earned that gas, Cameron. It was part of my compensation for working at the hospital. If you disagree, then take it back. We’ll walk to Alpha.”

The response seemed to distress Cameron. He was about to reply when he noticed a considerable crowd of people had gather around – the throng clearly making his security team nervous.

“No,” he decided, “take the gas
, Danny.” Without another word, Cameron pivoted and began a brisk stride toward his SUV. Almost as an afterthought, he stopped and yelled at the men operating the checkpoint. “Let them through.”

Once inside the SUV, Cameron told the driver to wait. He watched as the line of people exiting Midland Station began passin
g through the checkpoint one by one. “How many are leaving?” he asked Lou.

“About 30 per
day, give or take.”

Grunting, the boss replied, “That’s 30 less we have to feed. Let’s get going.”

Cameron sat in silence the entire trip back. As he and Lou rode the elevator to his office, the headman looked at his trusted aide and inquired, “What do we know about Alpha?”

“Only
gossip and speculation. My people hear that they have electricity. Not generators, but electrical power through the grid. There’s some woman who runs the town. She has a couple of hotshots that aren’t afraid to pull the trigger. There’s also been a rumor floating around for a long time about one of her henchmen named Bishop. Story goes he has a large amount of gold, hundreds of pounds of the stuff, hidden away at a ranch. Word is he killed a bunch of bank robbers who had stolen it in the Midwest right before everything went to hell.”

“Interesting,” replied Cameron. “I wonder if that gold has anything to do with how they’re obtaining electricity.”

“I don’t follow, sir.”

“They must be obtaining fuel from somewhere. While I personally
don’t think gold is worth its weight in cow dung at the moment, other people might find value in it. They might be using the precious metal to buy fuel.”

Lou’s shrug indicated he had nothing to add.

The elevator opened, and the two men strolled back to Cameron’s office, securing the door behind them. “Lou, I think it’s prudent we find out a little more about our competition in Alpha.”

“Competition, Sir?”

Cameron sighed, “More so than ever before, it’s every man for himself now, Lou. Resources, food, personnel, labor, and skills. Losing Dr. Prescott made Alpha stronger and Midland Station weaker. A minor loss in the grand scheme of things, but a loss nonetheless. I consider that competition, and knowledge is power when it comes to a contest.”

Lo
u caught on and offered, “Sir, not long ago we had some ex-soldiers show up at the checkpoint. They claimed to have been recently discharged from Fort Bliss. I’ve given them menial jobs in our security force because my gut tells me they are deserters, but there’s no way to be sure. They wouldn’t be missed if they should have an unfortunate incident. Would you like for me to provide transportation and ask these gentlemen to perform a scouting mission to Alpha?”

After a period, Cameron nodded his approval. “That’s a good idea, Lou. My primary curiosity is about their electrical system, but any information they can gather might be of value.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Alpha, Texas

February 3,
2016

“I need you to take me on a trip,” announced Terri.

“Sure,” replied Bishop. “Where are we going? A cruise? Hawaii?
Let me get my grass skirt! I know, let’s go to Alaska!”

“Silly,
not that kind of trip. A business trip.”

“Okay, what is our destination?”

“The Beltran Ranch. I want to go feed some cattle.”

Bishop shook his head, “I’ll
say one thing about the new Ms. Terri – there’s never a dull moment.”

Brushing off h
er husband’s comment, Terri relayed the tale of her conversation with Sheriff Watts and the deer corn. When she finished, Bishop smiled broadly and declared, “Terri, that is one hell of a good idea. Okay, let’s go visit the Beltran Ranch. Maybe they’ll share their barbecue recipe with me.”

After Terri’s bidding Nick
and Diana farewell, Bishop filled the truck with gas and headed west. The route took the couple through Meraton, and time allowed a brief stop to visit with Pete and Betty.

“Terri, I think you’ve probably saved the ranch!” was Pete’s assessment.

After a quick tour of the market, Bishop headed east from Meraton. “We’ve not been on this side of Meraton since our bug out from Houston,” Bishop noted.

“Sometimes I want to go back and see our house. Sometimes I miss it so very much. Do you think we’ll ever get to go back?”

“Maybe,” Bishop commented softly. “Maybe.”

Eventually the truck came to a well-worn dirt ranch road leading north off the highway. There wasn’t a
ny sign announcing the entrance… no fence or gate.

The
service road was washboard rough and required a slow pace as it wound through the lower foothills of the eastern-most Glass Mountains. Eventually, Bishop steered over a crest that revealed the ranch’s main cluster of buildings in the flat of a valley below.