An Undeclared War (Countdown to Armageddon Book 4) (21 page)

     “What happened to the rest of the city council?”

     Tom was sitting at a chair in front of a group of five men, in the
Kerrville City Hall chamber.

     There were sixteen empty chairs.

     “We’re all that’s left. The rest are dead or have disappeared in search of greener pastures.”

     The man speaking was
David Reichig, the interim mayor.

     “Mayor Gilley
was one of the first casualties. Shot by outlaws for the case of water he was lugging home from the Handy Hut. Such a terrible waste of life.

     “I only took the job as interim mayor because none of these other sissies would do it. And to be honest, I consider it a temporary gig. As soon as we can get the city government running again, the first thing I plan to do is hold an election. And I won’t be running.

     “I’m curious, Tom. We’ve known each other for thirty years. I never took you for the lawman type. Why did you decide to take the job?”

     “The world has changed a lot over the last year,
David. We’ve changed a lot with it. Just like a year ago you never saw yourself as mayor, I never thought I’d be the county sheriff someday. But three weeks ago I saw a good friend killed by outlaws. A few days ago I got word that another good friend was gunned down as well. And one of the sweetest girls in the county, who I considered a daughter, was brutalized.

     “A man can only take so much.”

     “That’s a true statement if I ever heard one, my friend. You’ve seen what you’re up against. A lesser man might have been scared away. The fact that you’re still here tells me we have the right man for the job.”

     “I’ll do my best. I have no lawman experience, but I know right from wrong. I know the good guys from the bad. And I don’t take any guff off of anybody.”

     “I understand you have friends down San Antonio way who are policemen. Perhaps they can give you some pointers.”

     “I’ve already talked to them. After they finished with the Barney Fife jokes, they offered to help me any
way they could.”

     “Good. Now all you need is a staff. The city has authorized you ten deputies. Do you know any good men
who might be interested?”

     “The men who rode with me on the posse did a good job. They followed instructions and weren’t afraid. I’d be honored to work with any of them again, if they’re interested in applying.”

     “We’ll talk to them about it. Anybody else?”

     “Not really. I don’t know who’s still alive or dead.
I would like for Jim Colson to vouch for any applicants. He knows every good man in the county. If he says they’re capable then that’s good enough for me. I will insist on having the authority to fire my deputies if they aren’t willing to follow my rules.”

     “Fair enough.”

     “How do you plan to pay these guys?”

     “We’re going to offer them the same salary our deputies used to make, only in city bonds instead of money. They’ll be worthless until the new monetary system is established, of course. But once the dollar is worth something again, they can cash the bonds in for current value plus five percent interest per year. We’re also taking a cue from some of the other cities in the area and offering a ten acre plot of land for completion of a full year’s service, up to forty acres per man.”

     “Sounds like a decent option, for men who have no job and no income. Not a lot of choices for them out there I suppose. But how will they eat?”

     “They’ll eat just as they have since the crisis began. They’ll scavenge or barter their goods or services to the local farmers for produce and meat. Many of them have been providing private security, and I suspect they’ll continue to do so in their off-duty time.”

     “I reckon. Now, what do we do with the bad men we take into custody?”

     “We hired Jim Colson as the jailer yesterday. We wanted him to be your undersheriff. He said he’s too old for that. Said the ride into the foothills with the posse hurt his back so bad he can barely move. But he’ll be a good jailer.”

     “We’re also negotiating with Judge John Hardy to come out of retirement. Once we come to terms with him, he’ll hear the cases and render judgment. Are you amenable to hanging men who are condemned to death?”

     “I don’t think I’d like that. How about I deliver them to the gallows and you can hire someone to do that?”

     “Fair enough. I’m sure it’s not the most popular job around. How about your salary, Tom? You already have your own spread. The county owns a hundred acres to the west of you. Would you accept that as partial payment for say, a five year contract? In addition to what the former sheriff was making in city bonds?”

     “I reckon that would be fair. I haven’t really thought much about it, to be honest. I know you’re fair men who will pay me what I’m worth.”

     “We’ve heard rumors that you have the only automobile in the county that runs. Would you be willing to use it on the job, if we were to reimburse you for the mileage used?”

     “I’d be amenable to that too. But you don’t have to pay me for the mileage. It’s an old car and ain’t worth much. And it’s held together on a wing and a prayer. We’ll just use it for transporting prisoners until we can get some of the other
sheriff’s vehicles working.”

     “Do you think you can do that?”

     “Sure, but the city will have to give me the authority to take the parts I need from the auto parts stores and tractor dealers.”

     “We’ll back you up if you need it. But I’m pretty sure all of those places went out of business and were abandoned right afte
r the blackout. Didn’t seem to be much use for them anymore.

     “When can you start?”

     “Do you have the keys to the Sheriff’s Office?”

     “Right here.”

     “Then I’ll start tomorrow. I’ll be there at nine a.m., if you can get word to my new deputies to meet me there.”

     “We’ll take care of that. And welcome aboard, Tom.”

     “Thank you, David. I hope I don’t live to regret this.”

-40-

     Tom rode Bonnie back to the compound, calling in on the radio when he was about half a mile out.

     “Hey
Jordan, this is Tom.”

     “Go ahead, Tom.”

     “I’m about fifteen minutes away. Can you drag that old tree out of the way for me?”

     “Um… sure. But could you take a little longer? Come back in, maybe thirty minutes or so?”

     “Why?”

     There was something in
Jordan’s voice that seemed out of character for him. Jordan was by nature a serious young man. But he sounded almost… mischievous.

    
Jordan keyed the mike again and was distracted. Tom heard Sara in the background, telling Jordan, “Tell him we can’t find the tractor key.”

     “Tom, we can’t find the tractor key. If you take your time and come back in thirty minutes, we should be able to find it by then.”

     They were up to something. He wondered what it was. But wondering wouldn’t do him any good. He’d find out soon enough.

     “Okay, ten-four. Thirty minutes, but not a minute longer.”

     He slowed Bonnie to a walk. As he turned off Highway 83 and onto the gravel road that led to his ranch and the compound, he paused long enough to gaze at the bodies of Tony Pike and his gang. They were still there, lined up on the dirt berm that blocked the road, just as they’d left them almost a month before.

     They were little more than skeletons now. Most of the meat had been picked away by buzzards or beetles. Tom noticed that some of the limbs were missing. Carried away by coyotes or wild dogs, he supposed.

     When he was young, there were black bears in these hills. He saw one on a boy scout camping trip when he was twelve. Officially, according to the local game wardens, they were long gone.

     But occasionally he’d still hear rumors of a bear sighting.

     He had mixed feelings. In a way he’d like to see the bears make a comeback. He tended to root for the underdog in most situations, and never thought it fair man killed them all off when they were doing nothing more than being bears.

     But then again, little Chris would be out there in these hills before long, learning how to ride a horse and how to hunt and fish. He didn’t want anyone he cared about being mauled by a black.

     It was at that moment that Tom realized how much the people at the compound really meant to him. He no longer considered them just friendly strangers. They were now family. He considered Jordan and Sara his children, and little Chris his grandson.

     He looked forward
to putting Chris on horseback and going riding with him. And he hoped that Chris had some brothers and sisters someday, so he could teach them too.

     It was quite a transformation for an old cowboy who, two years before, was all alone in the world except for a
horse named Mollie and a dog named Blue.

     And who’d liked it that way.

     Sara’s voice came over the radio.

     “Okay, Tom, we’re opening the gate. You can come home now.”

     Her voice was almost giddy. He could hear the little girl giggle.

     An
d it sounded sweet to the old man’s ears.

     He and Bonnie galloped down the gravel road and bore right into the driveway of the compound.

     And there he saw what the kids had been up to.

     And he couldn’t help but smile.

     There, parked in the front yard of the house, was his 1963 Ford Galaxy 500, decked out like a police car.

     Or, more specifically, a sheriff’s car.

     Linda greeted him with a kiss as he dismounted and let Bonnie go to graze.

     “It was the kids’ idea,” she said. “But I thought it was a great tribute to you. They really love you, Tom, or they wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble for you.”

     And their work was quite impressive. Tom’s jaw dropped as he walked completely around the vehicle, admiring their handiwork.

     On the front driver’s and passenger doors
, Sara had hand painted large five pointed stars, in gold with black trim. Above the stars were the word “Kerr County,” below the word “Sheriff.”

     Across the back of the trunk, she’d repeated the same words.

     Although she had no formal art training, she was a talented girl, and from ten feet away her work rivaled a professional painter’s.

     “Sorry for having to delay your arrival. They were having trouble getting the driver’s side door back on.”

     “They took the doors off?”

     “Yes.
Sara needed a flat surface to get the detail just right. When the doors were on the car, it was just too awkward to sit on the ground for several hours, and would have been hard on her back. So Jordan and Zach took the doors off and laid them across saw horses for her.

     “But they found out that doors are a lot easier taking off than putting back on. They had a hard time getting the hinges to line
up perfectly to get the pins back into place. It took four of us trying to maneuver the door into just the right position.”

     Tom
smiled.

     He hugged
Sara, and kissed her on top of the head.

     “But where on earth did you get the paint? And how did you do all this? I was only gone for three hours.”

     “I used the paint we saved from the Walmart truck. Remember all those model cars you found, that Zachary’s been putting together one at a time? Well, there was a case of model paint also. I must have gone through a hundred little bottles, and thought I was going to run out of the gold, but I barely had enough. Do you like it?”

     She looked up at him and noticed for the first time
his eyes were moist. For a very long time he’d considered the younger generation to be full of themselves, and a bit selfish. He had a hard time believing that these people put so much time and effort into doing something so special for him.

     “No, honey,” he said. “I love it.”

     Linda answered his second question.

     “They’ve worked hard for the last three days to keep you out of the feed barn. That’s where they put the car when you weren’t paying attention. You didn’t even notice it was gone.

     “They went on high alert anytime you went outside. They were using code words on the radio. ‘Sunny day’ meant you were outside and that somebody needed to get out there and head you off.”