Fight for Power (16 page)

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Authors: Eric Walters

BOOK: Fight for Power
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“And thanks for the tea,” Todd said.

“You're welcome to come back for another cup, anytime,” Leonard's mother said.

“Thanks, Amy. We appreciate that offer,” I said.

“Not as much as we all appreciate the food you brought,” she said.

“Really, we just brought you the food you deserved. We were just being fair.”

“Acts of fairness and kindness mean even more now,” she said. “Could you do me one more favor?”

“Of course.”

“If you do hear anything about what's going on out there, could you share it with us?”

“Definitely. And I was wondering if I could share one other thing with you,” Todd said. “I have this tent—it's pretty big, and it's not like we're using it—you could have it if you'd like.”

“Thanks for the offer, but we'll be okay.”

“But, Mom, this one leaks,” Penny said.

“I'm pretty sure mine doesn't leak,” Todd said. “How about if you just borrow it, then? You can return it when you don't need it any longer.”

Amy smiled. “I think we'd be wrong to turn down such a generous offer. Thank you.”

“Just have Leonard come up tomorrow. I'll have it left with the guards at the fence where we met today.”

“When do you want me there?” Leonard asked.

“Anytime after noon.”

We said our goodbyes and started off.

“That was nice of you,” I said to Todd.

“You're not the only nice guy,” he said. “Besides, they need our help and it's not like I was planning on going camping myself.” He paused. “Now if I could just learn to keep my mouth shut about other details we'd all be fine.”

 

14

I tried to sit quietly at the back of our dining room while the committee members all settled into their seats. I knew I should just consider myself lucky that they allowed me to listen in, because it meant that I knew everything going on. Then again, I wished I hadn't learned about the dog and cat meat in the meals, so maybe knowing everything wasn't always a good thing.

Herb settled into a seat at the side. Judge Roberts always sat at the front, flanked by Councilor Stevens and my mother. Officially, they were the three people most in charge, but Herb should have been seated up there. Maybe Brett was right and Herb should have been the only one sitting at the front.

“There are more issues than usual on the agenda tonight, so we might as well get started,” Judge Roberts said, calling the meeting to order.

I'd been at—or listening in on—enough of these meetings to know that the day-to-day stuff would happen first and the new developments would wait until the end of the meeting. I knew it was all important, but some parts were of much more interest to me than others.

The school was continuing to operate, even though it was summer, with all students in grades one through eight attending a half day five days a week. There had been talk about extending the program right through high school, but now there was a greater need for the older students to be working in the fields or guarding the walls than sitting in classrooms. I guess the least of our worries was that we were all going to miss a year or fall behind. Survival trumped education, and I guess in many ways we were getting a whole different type of education.

Dr. Morgan reported on an outbreak of chicken pox—nothing that wasn't to be expected or that his team couldn't handle. I was glad to hear that both men injured by friendly fire during our attack on the compound were coming along nicely and that one had been released from the clinic already. Also, almost ready for release was our prisoner, Quinn.

Herb offered reassurances that Quinn wouldn't stay in the hospital but gave no specifics about where he'd go from there. Some members asked whether they should set something up as a jail or just release him, expelling him from the neighborhood. Or, they went on, would there be a more final answer? That opened up a whole discussion about what was going to become of Quinn. Finally, the committee agreed to put off a decision until he was completely back to health.

Mr. Nicholas gave a report on some water projects. His daily tests showed that the river water was still potable, if boiled or treated with chlorine; that our wells were producing water; and that the pools were filled to the top from the rainwater collection after the last storm. His crew had been working out a way to block off the sewers and start to store water under the roads. If water was the most important thing to keeping us alive, we had plenty of life in us.

The hair salon was operating—I knew that from Lori's hairstyle experiment—along with the vet's office. And the bakery had started making bread again, using wood to fire the oven. Ernie talked about the community meal and received lots of compliments about the tasty stews he'd been serving.

Mr. Peterson had nothing but positives to say about the crops and their growth. Two new greenhouses had been assembled from scavenged windows and car windshields, and they were both ready to be seeded with some fall vegetables. Another snowblower had been converted to a small rototiller to help with that process, and four more lawn mowers had been remade into noisy little go-carts that were helping to patrol the neighborhood. None of those contained the motor I was most interested in. I shifted impatiently, wanting to hear about the Cessna, but didn't dare interrupt.

“I'm a little concerned about the general mood out there,” Councilor Stevens said. “Is it just my imagination or are people more on edge?”

“It's not your imagination,” my mother said. “My officers have had to deal with a number of what we'd normally call domestic disputes or disturbances involving neighbors.”

“I would have thought with the threat removed that people would have been happier,” she said.

“No, it's often the other way around,” Herb explained. “When there is an external crisis people pull together, put away minor issues. And then when the crisis is resolved, all those small issues that have been festering boil over.”

“So far, we've kept the boiling-over to a minimum and nobody has been hurt,” my mother said. “Although we had a funny incident the other day when a husband and wife over on Wheelwright Crescent got in a domestic and were chasing each other up and down the street while actually brandishing frying pans. My officer thought he was watching a cartoon.”

There was plenty of laughter over this.

“It's just that it gets more complicated when there are more weapons readily available,” my mom added. “What people have seen and experienced somehow seems to devalue life.”

“You'd think it would make life more valuable,” Mr. Peterson said. “Isn't something more valuable when there's a threat to take it away?”

“That makes sense,” my mother said, “but when you've witnessed so much death and trauma, then these things become more the accepted norm. People aren't shocked the same way.”

“Lordy. I hope we can stay ahead of this,” Judge Roberts said. “There are more than enough external threats without violence being an internal worry. Okay, I'd like to turn now to an item that I know is of importance to all, but of particular interest to Adam, who's being so quiet over there.”

I perked up at the sound of my name.

“Can we hear about the condition of the Cessna?” Judge Roberts asked.

“Structurally it appears to be in good shape,” Mr. Nicholas said. “The issue is with the engine. There is significant damage, and we're trying to modify certain car parts to make it run.”

“Are modified car parts going to be safe?” my mother asked.

I knew that was more the mother talking than the police captain.

“An engine is an engine more or less,” Mr. Nicholas said. “Don't worry—I'm going to personally certify it before your son takes it up. In fact, I'll be so confident that I'm going to request that I go up as the copilot on that flight … if that's all right with Adam.”

“I can take you up, but I think it's better if I go by myself that first trip. From a weight perspective, it's better.” And better that two people don't die, I thought to myself, if the car parts should have stayed in cars.

“Okay, then the second flight.”

“I think we all understand the importance of having that plane in the air,” Herb said. “It would give us greater range as well as more air support, and if we can train another pilot, potentially more eyes and weapons in the air. In the meantime, it's been very reassuring to have Adam up every day for a scouting flight to provide information about what's outside our walls.”

“Always with somebody else with him for security,” my mother added.

“Always,” Herb agreed. “Often, me. I'm also asking that we continue the ground patrols outside the neighborhood with particular emphasis on the two remaining bridges across the river.”

“I'll make sure that happens,” Howie said. “It's getting more dangerous out there. It's not just that there's more desperation and deprivation, but we're hearing reports that the roving gangs who prey on others have become larger, more violent, and better armed. So I'd like permission for the patrols to be increased in size.”

“That's wise,” Herb agreed. “We want to make sure your patrols are big enough and well enough armed that they aren't even considered a target. Those new go-carts can be used in that capacity.”

“I also want to make sure they arrive behind the safety of our walls well before nightfall,” Howie added. “It's a different world out there when it's dark.”

“Which leads me to another thing I wanted to mention,” Herb said. “We do need to know about what is happening after dark. Brett has offered to lead a small patrol over the walls at night on a regular basis.”

“I can't think of a better person to lead those patrols,” Judge Roberts said, and others voiced agreement.

My mother didn't say anything and her face remained neutral. I knew from little snippets of conversations we'd had that she had doubts about Brett. But, really, who else would be crazy enough to want to go outside the walls after dark?

Herb surprised me by asking my opinion. “You've been spending some time with Brett lately. Do you think it's a good idea?”

“We're lucky to have him on our side,” I said. “I know the men he's gone out with before say they'd follow him anywhere.”

From the nod of his head, Herb seemed to be pleased with my response. “I'll let him know he can select his patrol and start immediately,” Herb said. “There is a great deal of information that can be gathered through those patrols. What is happening now under cover of night is an indication of what will eventually happen during the day. And while Brett is outside the walls we need to make sure our guards on the walls double their vigilance.”

“I'll make a point of talking to each guard individually,” Howie said. “I know there's potential for a letdown when the job starts to become routine.”

In the beginning it had mainly been men on the walls. Now it was almost a fifty-fifty split, since more women had been trained. Herb said he had a lot of faith in the women—less testosterone and more level heads, he said. Besides, many of them were out there protecting their children and it was never smart to come between a momma bear and her cubs.

“Please remind the sentries that there are still over a hundred heavily armed and very angry men who survived our attack and could materialize on our doorstep any night,” Herb said.

“I think we all have to remember that,” my mother said. “The sentries on the wall, the patrols going out during the day, Brett with his men at night, and of course my son in the air.”

I had been waiting for that last part.

“I'll keep my people focused,” Howie said. “I know the danger is real for them, but the most difficult part, the part that's having the greatest impact on them, isn't the fear of attack but having to watch innocent people walk past each day … families … women and children … It's hard to know that they can't do anything. It's really bothering some of them.”

“When it stops bothering them is when we should be worried,” Judge Roberts said. “It's only human. I wish we could do more.”

“We all do,” Councilor Stevens said.

“We've noticed that more people are setting up tents, making camp, in areas surrounding our walls,” Howie said.

“Are they any threat?” Judge Roberts asked.

I thought about Leonard and his family. They weren't right by the walls, but I hoped that nobody saw them as a danger to us and tried to clear them away.

“No threat that we can see,” Howie said, and I felt relieved. “I think they just feel safer in the shadow of our walls. We're getting more people just lingering on the outside within sight of our guards. My guards want to know whether, if there was a problem, they could go out and offer assistance.”

Everybody looked at Herb.

“Captain, what do you think?” he asked, and the attention shifted to my mother.

“We might have to intervene, but it has to be done in a coordinated way, with approval. We can't have people just running out on their own without support or in scattered numbers. If we go out, it has to be in force.”

“Caution is best,” Herb agreed. “After all, we don't have the resources to help everybody. Or, I should mention, the resources to bring anybody else into the neighborhood.”

He'd said that to everybody, but it seemed like it was directed at me.

“Speaking of which, how are our newest members doing?” Judge Roberts asked.

“Some have settled into some vacant houses over on Trapper Crescent, and others have been taken in by other folks,” Councilor Stevens replied.

“Good to know they've been welcomed,” Judge Roberts noted. “And psychologically how are they doing?”

“There has been a whole range of responses,” Dr. Morgan replied. “Most of the children have already started attending classes, and some of the women are helping in the fields and preparing meals. We also had a very tearful reunion when one of the men who was originally rescued from Olde Burnham was reunited with his wife and son.”

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