Sanctuary

MARCH 15, 2015 ^{• • •}

Gordon needed to take a break to stretch after doing so much driving. He didn’t know if his legs and back were aching from sitting or from the blast.

The sun had just made its appearance over the eastern horizon and with it he hoped for another day without incident. Every time he saw the sunrise, he would make a point to say a quick prayer, hoping he’d see it set that day.

The first twenty-four hours of the drive had been successful, easily clearing over three hundred miles. But even given that, driving in the new world was slower. Weather and road conditions were problems before but now those were compounded by abandoned vehicles, road bandits, and the inability to stop just anywhere. The start of their drive was slowed due to the heavy rains. Fortunately for them, it hadn’t turned into snow and the temperatures didn’t drop below freezing. At the current rate, he hoped to pull into Cheyenne in three or four days.

Christopher began to stir but didn’t quite wake up. He had offered to take on some of the driving, and Gordon was thankful for that. Gordon grew excited about the prospect of getting relieved from his driving duty. Not wanting to wait any longer, he ran over a clump of debris, jolting the vehicle.

Everyone in the Humvee woke suddenly.

Christopher, now wide awake, asked urgently, “Is everything okay, are we okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine, accidently hit something,” Gordon lied. “Since you’re awake I need to take a break and rest. You mind?”

“No, not at all, pull over wherever you think is safe,” Christopher said, stretching.

“Where are we?” Cruz asked from the backseat.

“Somewhere east of Bend. We’re making good time,” Gordon answered.

Normally, Gordon wouldn’t have driven through the night, but he didn’t want the trip to take three times as long. And in some regards, the dangers on the road came at all hours.

“I haven’t seen anything for miles. Probably anywhere on the road is safe to just pull over,” Gordon said as he began to decelerate.

“Can’t we find a building that might have a bathroom?” Cruz asked.

“Is that a serious question?” Gordon asked.

“Yes, it’s serious. I have to use the bathroom,” Cruz stated flatly.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to do what the animals do. I have toilet paper and an e-tool in the back.”

“What’s an e-tool?” Christopher asked.

“A shovel. I like to have one when I go outside. I use it to balance myself when I squat.”

“Are you sure there’s not a rest area or facility close by?” Cruz asked.

“Sir, if we approach a building I can’t just let you go in without my securing it first. That could take up precious time. You can’t expect every building you see to be safe. It’s a dangerous world out here, in case you didn’t know.”

“Mr. Van Zandt, I don’t appreciate your condescending attitude.”

Gordon brought the vehicle to a coast and pulled along the shoulder of the road.

“I’m sorry if you were offended, but I can’t take your requests seriously. I know you must be a smart man. I’m not pulling up to any structure unless I absolutely have to. It’s just best we stay from any building,” said Gordon.

Cruz thought before he responded. He was not feeling well. His body ached and he had what felt like the beginnings of a fever.

“Here’s where we’re going to take a break. Mr. Vice President, the shovel is in the back on the right. You go first, pick any tree out there. Christopher, do you mind topping us off? Any of the fuel cans in the back will work. I’m going to be on watch,” Gordon said, then exited.

The long stretch Gordon took felt good. He bent over at the waist and let the weight of his body stretch his lower back. He had picked a very remote spot on the road. The rolling and lunging landscape was heavily dotted with pine trees and large shrubs. To the east the road went on for miles, to the west he followed the road till it died into the horizon. The temperature was cool but tolerable. The gray skies could mean anything; he just hoped it didn’t mean more precipitation.

Wilbur walked up to Gordon and asked, “Can you help me? Vice President Cruz isn’t feeling too well.”

“Sure,” Gordon agreed, and followed Wilbur to the other side of the Humvee. There he saw Cruz bent, sitting on the ground, resting his back against the right wheel tire.

“You all right?” Gordon asked, but what he saw gave him the answer, and it was no.

Cruz’s skin was pale and clammy. He looked up at Gordon with swollen, bloodshot eyes.

“He’s really sick now. He had been complaining before we left but I thought he was just fatigued,” Wilbur commented.

“Let’s get him into the Hummer,” Gordon said, grabbing one arm. Wilbur grabbed his other arm and they both pulled him up and sat him back in his seat. Cruz collapsed into the seat and laid his head against a box.

“What’s wrong with him?” Wilbur asked.

“I don’t know, but you better wash your hands. The last thing I need is to get what he has,” Gordon said as he examined his hands.

As soon as Gordon sat in the passenger seat he passed out from exhaustion. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep when Christopher shook him awake.

“Gordon, wake up!” Christopher barked.

“Huh! What? What is it?” Gordon said, sitting up and alert.

“It’s the vice president, he’s gotten worse,” Christopher said, pointing to Cruz’s sickly frame in the back. Christopher had pulled them off the road.

“Where are we?” Gordon asked, looking around. The sun was still high in the sky, so they couldn’t have gone too far.

“I saw a sign a mile back that said Hines, seven miles,” Christopher said.

“Hines? Where’s the map?” Gordon asked, looking around the front of the Hummer.

“We need to find him a doctor!” Wilbur yelled at Gordon.

Gordon turned around and looked at her, then at Cruz.

Cruz looked lifeless. He hadn’t moved since they had dumped him in the seat earlier. His sweating had increased and when he opened his eyes, the whites were now almost entirely red.

“Major, in the back is a trauma kit. Grab it and let’s look through there for anything we can give him that will help,” Gordon commanded.

She jumped out and ran toward the back.

“Here’s the map,” Christopher said excitedly as he handed it to Gordon.

“Hines… we must still be in Oregon,” he said out loud as he opened up the map. “Here it is!” Gordon yelled out as he found the town on the map. “Damn! That’s a small town and we don’t know if we’ll find help there.”

Wilbur rushed to Gordon’s door with the trauma kit and handed it to him. He snatched it out of her hands and fished through it until he discovered Motrin.

“This will help with his fever for now,” Gordon said, taking two capsules and giving them to her.

Giving Cruz the Motrin was not easy. After several attempts he was able to swallow. His symptoms looked like the flu, but it was difficult to determine without a doctor’s attention. Finding one wasn’t likely.

Gordon had to find a safe place for Cruz to rest. They pulled back on the road and headed toward Hines, Oregon.

All Gordon could think was, Shit, can’t anything go right, just once?

Nelson walked back into the house feeling defeated.

The sound of the heavy door closing sent Samantha rushing to see him. When she saw him empty-handed a wave of emotions cascaded over her.

“This can’t be happening again. This can’t be!”

Nelson didn’t know how to answer her cries. He hadn’t slept one minute the entire night. He and Eric had walked for what seemed like endless ice-cold miles looking for Haley but no clues presented themselves.

As Samantha sat crying, Nelson walked past her and into the kitchen. There wasn’t anything he could say or do to ease her pain aside from walking in with Haley.

Samantha didn’t blame Nelson, but she didn’t need to. His own self-loathing was enough to make him feel like a failure.

Over and over again he reenacted what he thought could have happened in the barn. In his mind’s eye, he saw her feeding Macintosh. Her sweet voice gently serenading him. Her attention to detail as she made sure each carrot she fed him wasn’t too big. Then he saw the fear, the sheer terror she must have felt when whoever took her came at her. He wondered if she had any notice. Was she hiding from them or was she surprised? The thought of her somewhere now, terrified, crying out for Samantha or him, ate him up inside.

The lack of sleep in over twenty-four hours was making him feel delirious. But taking a few hours to rest meant a few hours not looking for her. Determined to find her, he motivated himself to go back out and try to find a shred of evidence in the barn. He stood up, weary, and left a tormented Samantha crying in the other room.

His eyes were heavy and his thoughts were becoming garbled. He slapped himself in the face to wake up.

Entering the barn, he went back to Macintosh’s stall. There he found the horse happy and unaware that his friend was missing.

“Hey, boy,” he said, petting the horse on the head. “What happened? Where is she? God, I wish you could tell me what happened.”

“There’s a hospital in the area called Burns. It’s just a few miles away,” Gordon shouted out after finding the icon signifying hospital on the map.

“Good, let’s hurry,” Wilbur responded.

“Don’t get too excited. The chances that it’s open are slim but we might be able to find some supplies there,” Gordon said.

“Gordon, we might have a problem. Up ahead!” Christopher said, a touch of apprehension in his voice.

A manned roadblock stood between them and the town.

“Christopher, stop and turn around!” Gordon commanded

“No, we have to keep heading toward the hospital!” Wilbur challenged him.

“We don’t know if those people are friend or foe. What I don’t need is to find out they don’t like us, and we’ll all need to go to the hospital. Turn around now!” Gordon yelled at Christopher.

Trusting in Gordon’s experience over Wilbur’s, Christopher slowed and made a U-turn.

“Where to now?”

“I don’t know, maybe there’s another way around,” Gordon said, looking at the map, trying to find a detour.

“Hey, there’s a car coming after us!” Christopher said.

Gordon looked into his side mirror and saw the car gaining on them.

“Turn down this street!” Gordon ordered. “Now pull over up there.”

Christopher did exactly what Gordon ordered. Wilbur prattled on, questioning every step.

“Major, please just shut the fuck up and get ready to fight,” Gordon barked at her. “Take this,” he said to Christopher, handing him a pistol.”

“I don’t understand why we’re stopping! If you think they’re bad, we should try to outrun them!” Again Wilbur challenged Gordon.

“I don’t have time to explain.”

Christopher pulled over and stopped.

The Hummer hadn’t stopped for a millisecond and Gordon was out of the vehicle, M4 at the ready.

“I am so tired of this!” he said as he slammed the door and took up a position, ready for the car to make the turn in its pursuit of them.

The car, a 1960 Ford Falcon, made the turn at a high rate of speed but began to slow down when the driver saw the Hummer pulled over.

Gordon was tired, frustrated, and all he wanted was for something to go right. “I really don’t have time for this shit!” He took aim on the windshield and began to shoot. After a half dozen shots, the car swerved and crashed into a telephone pole. “You see what happens. You just had to follow us, didn’t you? You just couldn’t leave us alone, you dumb fuck!” he said out loud. He shot a few more times at the car.

Steam billowed out of the crushed front end as the coolant hit the hot engine.

Gordon paused to see if anyone was moving. He walked over to the car and looked inside to find two men, both dead. Not one to miss out on an opportunity, he opened the car door and grabbed their weapons, a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun and a Winchester Model 70 bolt-action rifle. He quickly looked around for anything else of value but found nothing. He took a step back and looked at the car. “Where do they get these cars from?”

As he was running back to the Hummer, a few townspeople stepped out of their homes, curious to see what had happened. “Go back inside or I’ll kill you!” Gordon yelled at them. He wasn’t serious, but then again, who knew what this day would bring.

After tossing the guns into the trailer he jumped back in the Humvee. “Let’s go!”

Both Christopher and Wilbur just stared at him.

“Drive, let’s go!”

“Ah, where?”

“Go straight, then turn left about two blocks. We’ll maneuver through these back streets. We’ll figure it out.”

“Aren’t you worried they’ll send more people after us?” Christopher asked.

“Yes, I am, that’s why I’m asking you to fucking drive. Now go!”

Christopher put the Humvee in gear and stomped on the accelerator.

Nelson had passed out on the floor of the barn from pure exhaustion. Macintosh’s cold, damp muzzle against his face woke him up.

He sat up quickly and saw that it was getting dark outside. He jumped to his feet, brushed off his clothes, and went back to the house.

Inside he found Samantha and Lucy, who had just returned from looking for Haley.

“Hi,” he said to both ladies as he walked in with a sheepish expression on his face.

“What happened to you?” Samantha asked.

“I’m so sorry. I literally passed out in the barn. I went down there looking—”

“You don’t have to defend yourself. I know you were wiped out. Eventually, our bodies just shut down. Remember, I have experience with this stuff,” she said, interrupting him.

“No, Sam, I’m really so sorry that I let you down,” he said somberly.

“Nelson, don’t apologize. It’s this world, this place, me, I don’t know; I wish I did,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Anything new?” he asked.

“Nothing, it’s like she just… vanished into thin air,” Lucy answered.

A car horn blared from outside the house, startling all of them.

Nelson ran to the front window and looked out to see Eric waving from behind the wheel of the old truck.

Samantha jumped up and ran outside. Nelson was close on her heels.

Eric yelled out the window of the truck, “I need you both to come with me now!” Samantha and Nelson slid into the truck without a word as Eric sped off toward the community’s main entrance.

As they drew closer, Nelson could see the large gathering of people outside. Then he spotted a little girl standing in the middle of the fray. “It’s Haley! I see her!”

“Oh my God, they found my little girl. Oh my God, thank you, thank you,” Samantha cried out, looking up toward the sky.

Something wasn’t right, though. Eric wasn’t saying a thing. He just drove and wouldn’t say a word. To Nelson, that was unusual. He’d known Eric long enough to sense when something was wrong. He continued to scan the crowd, trying to identify something out of place.

Eric pulled the truck to a stop just behind Mack’s car and they jumped out.

Mack was standing at the gate with a shotgun pointed at the group. Standing on the other side of the gate with his hands on Haley’s shoulders was Truman.

Samantha’s excitement melted away when she saw who had Haley. “Give me back my daughter!”

Truman smiled and said, “You have a sweet little girl here, so polite and nice. You must be a good mother.”

“Leave her alone! Give her back, she’s just a child!” Samantha screamed.

“I want to give her back, because I wouldn’t be as good as a parent as you would be. You see, I don’t want to hurt her.”

Nelson counted ten in Truman’s group. He looked around for more. If Truman thought anything like him, he’d have people hidden with rifles trained on them.

“If you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you! She’s just a little girl!”

“Mommy, I’m scared!” Haley cried out in fear.

“Baby, it will be fine. I’ll get you.”

“Here’s the thing. We have something you want and you have something we want, so how about a trade?”

“What do you want?” Nelson asked.

“Oh, if it isn’t the Peeping Tom!” Truman laughed.

Nelson scrunched his face in confusion.

“I saw you two weeks ago watching us from your little perch in the hills. You think that we’re just some dumb group of hicks! Well, you pegged us wrong.” Truman laughed.

Ignoring Truman’s comment, Nelson asked again, “What is it you want?”

“Here’s the thing. I want something you might not be able to give. I want my brother back!”

“We told you, we don’t—”

“Shut up! We’re not idiots. We know he came here. I already went through this with you.”

“It was an accident!” Samantha lied, hoping a retelling of Raymond’s death would be convincing.

“Samantha, don’t,” Nelson whispered.

“Tell me what happened, blondie,” Truman said.

“He fell down the stairs, he was really drunk and fell down the stairs. We didn’t know what to do so we buried him. We didn’t know anyone was looking for him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this the other day when we stopped by? All of this could have been avoided,” he stated, holding up his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she begged. “We were concerned you’d be angry with us and try to hurt us. I didn’t, um, I tried to help him but he slipped and fell down the stairs and broke his neck.”

“You look like you have a face I can trust. If you say he died by accident, then I’ll collect my brother’s body and leave you all alone.”

Samantha had now boxed herself in. She didn’t know how to backtrack to get Haley back to her safe and sound. She was afraid that if she told him that she had been the one who had killed Raymond, Truman might not return Haley. She just couldn’t take that chance.

“Let me have my daughter and I’ll take you to his grave,” Samantha offered.

“How about we all go together? A little group outing!” Truman laughed.

Nelson reached back on his vest but didn’t feel his pistol. He couldn’t remember where he left it, but not having it made him feel very insecure.

Truman’s offer put Samantha in a bind. She wanted Haley back, but what would happen once he saw Raymond had wounds that countered her story? He would know it wasn’t an accident. She wished she had told him something else and silently cursed herself. Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest and she resisted the urge to vomit.

No one moved. They were all waiting for Samantha to say something and she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want it to escalate into a firefight, because Haley would be in the middle. Her mind raced.

“Well, are you letting me go get my brother’s body?” Truman asked.

“Mommy? I’m scared!” Haley squealed.

Truman bent over and whispered something in her ear. The look of terror that washed across Haley’s face gave everyone an idea of what he must have said.

“Yes, we’ll let you in, but we can’t let you all in!” Nelson shouted.

“I’ll tell you what, me and little Haley here are going to go back to our new home together. I’m sure I have some books to read to her,” Truman said with a vicious grin.

“Truman, please don’t hurt her. We’ll let you get your brother’s body, if that’s all you want. Just give me back my daughter,” Samantha pleaded.

“Little lady, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. My baby brother has been my responsibility since he was a boy. You see, he is or was a bit touched. In other words, he had to take the short bus. I’ve had to do everything for him since our parents weren’t model ones, like yourself. I had to feed him, fight his fights, and stand up for him when he was bullied.”

“Truman, just please let her come to me now, I promise I’ll show you where he is!” Samantha begged.

The commotion had drawn the remaining members of Eagle’s Nest. Many came with guns ready to fight.

Seneca walked up to Samantha and attempted to console her but Samantha was focused on Truman and Haley.

Truman looked up. “It’s getting dark and it’s cold as tits out here. I’d like to get my brother home to bury him.”

Samantha again looked at Nelson, then around at all her neighbors. Their numbers were similar, but there was no guarantee of who would prevail in a battle. She had no choice but to let him in.

“Haley, do you have a brother or sister?” Truman asked loud for all to hear.

“Stop taunting her!” Samantha screamed.

“Mommy, please, pleeease!”

“Truman, she did have a brother and he was murdered recently, please don’t take my only baby away from me!”

“Did that happen here? Who did that?” Truman asked with what seemed like sincere curiosity.

Samantha didn’t want to get into this with him. In fact, she wanted to scream at him that his brother was a piece of shit scumbag and deserved the horrible death he got.

“What happened to the person who killed your son?” Truman asked, still curious about the story.

“Daddy went to kill him,” Haley spoke. Her statement was an attempt to frighten Truman.

“He did? So that man there isn’t your daddy?” Truman pointed at Nelson.

Haley just shook her head.

“Aha, so much drama and intrigue here. I thought you two were an item. So your husband is gone finding the killer of your son. I have to say, he and I agree that there should always be justice, an eye for an eye as they say.”

The words he chose turned her stomach.

“All right, enough already, are you going to let us in or am I taking little precious home with me?” Truman asked in a more sinister tone.

“Truman, I lied!” Samantha blurted out.

Truman raised his eyebrows. “Another lie?”

“Things happened differently—” Samantha began to say but was stopped short when Nelson spoke up.

Nelson had had enough. His anger had been brewing and he knew what Truman wanted. “I killed him! He was beating her. I found him and beat him to death, then I stabbed him in the eye!”

“You murdered my brother?” Truman shouted out.

He pulled a knife out of the small of his back and put it next to Haley’s throat.

“God, no. No!” Samantha screamed.

Everyone in both groups raised their guns at each other after Truman ratcheted up the tension.

“So should I take her life for my brother’s life? An eye for an eye?”

“If you want a life, take me!” Nelson shouted.

Truman smiled at Nelson and said, “You’ll give yourself to me freely?”

“Yes, but you have to let her go. By the way, you’re not getting his body because that was another lie. I burned it!”

“Nelson, no!” Seneca cried out and ran over to him.

Samantha looked at him with huge eyes. “Nelson, what are you doing?” she whispered.

“I’m doing what I have to do. I promised Gordon that I’d do whatever I had to protect you both.”

“There has to be another way,” Seneca pleaded.

“Hey, brother, anytime you want me to, I’ll put one right between this fucker’s eyes,” Mack yelled out.

“Mack, please!” Samantha implored.

“You might kill me, but this little girl will die too. I can assure you of that.” Truman grinned maniacally. Samantha looked like she was going to faint. Truman continued. “But you know what? I’m a better man than that. If you give up one of the others, I’ll give you back the little angel,” he said.

Nelson stepped forward. “Take your hands off of her. I’ll go”

“Nelson! Don’t.”

“I have seen enough of this. You know me. I’ll find a way,” he said quietly.

“We’ll come for you, we’ll put a group together and find you,” Samantha promised.

“No, don’t do anything. The roads will soon be clear. You need to head to McCall. Gordon might already be there.”

“We’re going to come for you.”

“Save your energy. But if you feel like you need to do something, put a sign on Highway 55 so I can find my way back. It may not be that crazy of an idea. No crazier than this,” Nelson joked. Even when his life was hanging in the balance, Nelson could find a way to make fun of it.

“I can’t feel my toes anymore. So, what’s going on?” Truman asked smartly.

“I’m coming!” Nelson shouted.

“Remove any weapons you have first!”

Nelson obliged his request and took off two knives.

“What, no gun? You came to a gunfight with knives. Ha, you must think you’re a badass!” Truman said mockingly.

Nelson hugged Seneca and said good-bye to her, then gave Samantha a tight embrace. “I’m sorry this happened. You take care of that little girl there. I love her.”

“Nelson, we love you,” Samantha whispered to him, and hugged him tight, not wanting to let him go.

“Good-bye, Sam. When Gordon comes back, tell him not to take off again. Filling his shoes is a lot of work,” he said with a wink.

Nelson walked away and went to the gate. “Bring her here!” Truman walked up with her, and when he was in front of Nelson he let her go.

Instead of running to Samantha, she grabbed Nelson and held on to him. “No, don’t go, Nelson. Please don’t go!” Her little fingers clung to his jacket with desperation. In Gordon’s absence, Nelson had become the male figure she looked to for protection and strength.

Nelson knelt down and brought her close, “Oh, sweetie, I love you. You’re going to be fine now. Uncle Nelson has to go. Just know that I love you, okay?” Tears began to well up in his eyes, as he knew he’d never see her again. “You be a good girl for your mommy. Please. She needs you. And when your daddy comes home, you give him the biggest hug for me too.” Tears ran down his cheeks.

Haley whimpered, “Please don’t go. I need you!”

Samantha walked up and tried to grab her but she resisted and held tight to Nelson.

“Please, Haley, come here,” Samantha urged.

“Haley, sweetheart, listen to your mother,” Nelson said softly. Haley reluctantly gave in and went into her mother’s arms.

Nelson stood and walked into the center of Truman’s group.

Samantha fought the desire to kill Truman right then and there. This world was unfair.

Truman winked one last time at Samantha, then walked into the setting sun.

The attempt to navigate the back roads of Hines didn’t work out. The townspeople had roadblocks set up everywhere going into town. They found a small unpaved county road that led directly east out of town and decided to take it.

Off the road, they saw a series of industrial buildings. Cruz needed to get out of the Humvee and rest properly. His condition had not gotten worse, but it hadn’t improved. If they were clear, these buildings would be an ideal place to house him temporarily. They pulled around.

Gordon and Christopher jumped out, weapons in hand. The buildings seemed long abandoned. After a quick walk-through, they cleared them and went back to pull the Humvee and trailer inside through a large roll-up door. Wilbur made a bed for Cruz and together they laid him in it.

Cruz curled up, mumbling unintelligibly. His fever felt bad but they didn’t know what else to do but give him more Motrin and plenty of water.

Gordon had attempted to make radio contact with both Coos Bay and Cheyenne but they were out of range.

“Nothing. We’re that perfect distance in between both,” Gordon lamented as he sat down. They all sat in silence for a very long time, trying to figure what to do next.

“So… what’s your story?” Wilbur asked, breaking the silence.

“We all have one, don’t we?” Gordon answered smugly.

“How is it that you’re a third party in all of this?” she asked, not attempting to hide her disdain.

“Third party?” Gordon asked.

“Yes, you were tagged as a third party by Colonel Barone. So how is it that you do his bidding?” she shot back at him.

“I don’t just do anyone’s bidding. He helped me several times in my life and I owed him one.”

“The man is a traitor and deserves to be tried for treason!” Wilbur exclaimed.

“You should be careful how you toss around the word traitor. I can think of many politicians who betrayed their country and were rewarded for it,” Gordon countered.

“He swore an allegiance to the United States. He had an obligation to follow the orders of the president.”

“Major, I’m not going to get into this nonsensical back and forth with you. He did what he did and here we are,” Gordon said matter-of-factly.

“How can you have that attitude?” Wilbur fired back, not giving up. She couldn’t bring herself to understand Gordon’s laissez-faire demeanor.

“Major, I’ll be very frank with you. I stopped having any allegiance to any group except my family after your beloved government fucked me.”

“I don’t know your story, but anyone who aligns themselves with a man like Barone is a traitor in my book too!”

“Exactly, you don’t know my story. But I’m independent in this whole thing. I will never put any government or entity above my family. I’m here to repay a man who helped me, then I’m getting back to my family.”

“So where is your family?” she asked.

“They’re in Idaho, waiting for me.”

“Where in Idaho?” Christopher asked.

“Central Idaho,” he answered. Gordon didn’t want to give too much personal information away.

“So that woman you kissed wasn’t your wife? How would your wife feel?” Wilbur said leadingly.

“Shut the hell up. I don’t have to explain myself to you or anyone. I saved that woman from a pack of hungry men. She and I went through a lot together.”

“Key word is together,” she said, and winked at Christopher.

Christopher wasn’t taking the bait to tease Gordon.

“Brittany and I never were together in that regard. She had feelings for me, which happens when two people go through traumatic events. She’s a good woman, a mother, and trusted friend, nothing more,” Gordon said bluntly.

“How did you end up in Coos Bay?” Christopher asked.

“What’s up with the twenty questions?”

“I think we’re going to be together for a bit and I would like to know who I’m spending that time with,” he answered simply.

“I used to live in San Diego.”

“Oh my God, I’ve heard San Diego has collapsed. Just total chaos,” Christopher said.

“San Diego is just one of many cities that we’ve lost control of,” Wilbur added.

“So, Secretary of State, what happened to the federal government’s response to this?” Gordon asked.

“Where do I begin? It’s just been very overwhelming. I don’t know how anyone could tackle something this huge,” she said. She went on to detail some of what she knew about the recent efforts without jeopardizing anything classified. She covered her life at Cheyenne Mountain, Conner’s nuclear strikes, the coup attempt, then his disappearance. She told them about the struggles for the federal government to get a handle on the rampant chaos, the mass migrations, mass starvation, and the numerous nuclear plant accidents.

Gordon was impressed by her candor. It wasn’t what he expected from a government official, and he respected her more for it. He and Christopher posed many questions, which she answered to the best of her ability.

She explained that a decision had been made to abandon the east and that new boundaries had been established for federal control. When she told them about the secession of Texas, Alaska, and Hawaii, they both gasped in disbelief. All the news was just too incredible to believe.

She then brought them up to date on how she happened to be there, from the nuclear detonations on the other federal bunkers to how she and Cruz were captured in Portland.

Gordon had assumed the rest of the country was in an unmanageable condition but he didn’t know it was this bad. He now knew without a doubt that the old world, the old way of life, were gone forever. He wanted to tell Wilbur that what they were trying to do was honorable but almost impossible. Normalcy, as they had experienced it in the past, could not be restored.

“And now I’m here with you two,” she said at the end of her long story.

“My story isn’t as exciting as that,” Christopher uttered.

“Don’t wish for the excitement, trust me,” Gordon quipped.

“I actually agree with you on something!” she said with a smile.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I was rude before. These times are really wearing on me,” Gordon said with real sincerity.

“That’s okay. I started it, I apologize too. We’ve all been through a lot. Tempers flare up. I understand,” she said.

With tension broken, they all started to swap stories of the good old days. Christopher in particular had some that were just unbelievably funny. Their laughter reverberated off of the steel warehouse walls. It was the first time that Gordon could remember laughing this hard in a long time.

“Come on, tell us your story. How did you get that gnarly scar on your face? Shark bite your face, California boy?” Christopher urged.

The jovial mood collapsed with that innocent question. Gordon didn’t answer. He just stared at the ground.

Sensing the mood shift, Christopher said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something difficult.”

“It’s okay. We should check on the vice president,” Gordon recommended.

Wilbur nodded, then stood and walked away.

Gordon too stood up. “Can you stand watch for a bit? I’m going to look around the grounds some more.”

“Sure thing,” Christopher answered.

Gordon stepped away to explore their refuge.

The building appeared to have been a manufacturing plant at one time. Yellow hash marks outlined the empty equipment spaces. On the walls signage still hung; one said, NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT AN ACCIDENT. In the blank a large zero was written. Below it was a handwritten note that read, No more accidents and no more jobs. Thank you China and Corporate America.

He followed an arrow that led him to the floor manager’s office. He opened the door to find trash, papers, and an old metal desk. Tucked in behind it was a large cushioned chair. He stepped over and sat down.

He needed to rest and this just might be the place to do it. He placed his rifle against the wall behind him, kicked his legs up on the table, and closed his eyes.

“Sir, there’s a man here to see you. He says it’s urgent,” a guard said, interrupting Pablo and Isabelle’s dinner.

“Who is it?”

The guard looked nervous. He had forgotten to ask for the man’s name. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know, sir. He insists that it’s very important.”

“Does anyone know how to do their jobs?” Pablo groaned. Upset about being disturbed, he wiped his face and stood up from the table. “Excuse me, my love.”

He marched out of the room and walked with the guard to the foyer of the mansion. Like the rest of the mansion, the foyer was lit like a Christmas tree. Pablo had seen that his needs came before others and had generators operating twenty-four hours a day to keep power and electricity available for himself.

When he walked in he saw the informant who was tasked with daily updates about Pasqual’s coming and goings. His eyes widened with surprise, which soon gave way to anger.

“Leave us!” he snapped at the guard. Walking over to the man, he grabbed his arm and dragged him forcibly down the hallway and into a small parlor room.

“Emperor, I have some very important information that I thought you’d want to know about urgently!” the man exclaimed.

“I told you to never come here at night, never! We are to meet every day at the same time in the garden. You never come inside!”

“Sir, I-I-I know who the general is seeing. I-I-I have a n-n-name!”

Pablo was still holding him but finally let go. “Go ahead!”

“I saw a woman, sh-sh-she’s about his age, oh, and sh-sh-she looks Mexican.”

“So, old General Pasqual is meeting a woman. That’s it. He’s having an affair!”

“N-n-no, sir. There was also a man. Ah, ah, he’s younger.”

“So what, probably her son.” Pablo stepped away from the man and paced the room, laughing. “So, the general is running around for a piece of tail.”

“N-n-no, sir. The younger m-m-man was wearing a uniform.”

“A uniform? One of ours?”

“N-no, sir.”

“You mentioned a name. What’s the name?”

“J. Ortiz.”

“Did you get an address too this time?”

“Y-y-yes.”

Pablo walked to a small end table where he saw a pencil and paper. “What are you doing? Write down the name again and the address.”

The man did what he ordered.

Pablo asked if there was other pertinent information. He told him there wasn’t anything else. Changing his tone, Pablo then thanked him, before reminding him to never come to the house at night again. The man nodded and rushed out.

Pablo looked at the paper. J. Ortiz, 5632 Cloverfield Dr., Folsom. He placed the paper in his pocket.

Back at the dinner table, after a few minutes, Isabelle asked, “Is everything okay? You’ve been quiet and haven’t eaten since your visitor left.”

“I’m just not hungry. This chicken is dry.”

“Was it General Pasqual coming here with another ‘urgent’ message?” Isabelle joked.

Pablo slammed his fist onto the table. “Shut up! Mind your business! What I do and who I meet is none of your business!” He stood up quickly, causing his chair to fall backward. Not saying another word, he stormed out of the dining room.