Holding Their Own IV: The Ascent (26 page)

Diana commented first
. “Is Alpha on fire?”

“It’s not the right color,” answered Nick.

“I think we’re seeing streetlights. Oh, my gosh! Our little scheme worked!”

As the team progressed closer to town, it was confirmed their mission had succeeded. Windows glowed
from electric beams, the bright white illumination completely different from the candlelight everyone had become accustomed to. “I’m gonna miss candlelight,” Diana confessed. “It took 10 years off my profile!” The group chuckled at the idea of such a striking woman needing the advantage of soft lighting.

Pulling into the church, the team was met with a hero’s welcome, big smiles and happy faces all about. Terri embraced Bishop, a look of wonderment on her face. “This is so fantastic!” she declared. “It’s like Disneyworld all over again!”

Kevin approached Nick and Mr. Chancy, his hands filled with two cups. “Let me be the first to offer you a
cold
drink of water.” Nick was pretty sure it was the first chilled thing to hit his pallet in six months.

The rest of the night was occupied by people
strolling the streets and admiring the lights. The display wasn’t anything special or noteworthy. Before the world had gone to hell, no one would have even noticed the common streetlamps, business signs, or household illuminations.

To the people of Alpha, it was a spectacle worthy of awe. Bishop and Terri walked hand-in-hand with the small groups of citizens,
sauntering through the cool night air, gawking and pointing like everyone else.

Terri gazed
up at Bishop and said, “I’m getting tired, would you like to turn in?”

“And miss all the excitement? Are you sure, Terri?”

Terri winked at her husband, “I figure since everyone is out looking at the show, we might find some alone time and won’t be missed. The lights are progress, Bishop. They make me happy and hopeful, and I thought we might celebrate in private.”

Bishop smiled and looked around to make sure no one was watching.

Moving so quickly Terri didn’t even have time to flinch, Bishop scooped her up in his arms and held his wife like a baby. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

It was several hours later when the lights began to dim, the event causing people to question what was going on. Mr. Chancy explained the cause, the cooling of the atmosphere no longer generating enough wind to spin the giant turbines to the south. Word spread quickly and while disappointed by the fading lights, most of Alpha’s residents retired that evening with an improved optimism. Bishop and Terri never noticed.

The time has come for all young men

To bow their heads and say amen.

The time has come to take a stand;

To voice beliefs across the land.

The time has come to raise up arms;

To make aware and set off alarms.

The time has come to make repairs;

To fix what’s wrong when
no one dares.

The time has come to set things straight;

To change our ways ‘fore it’s too late.

The time has come to hold our ground;

To circumvent without a sound.

The time is now.

DALH  November, 2012

Alpha, Texas

December 27, 2015

Early the next morning, Bishop and Terri set about saying their goodbyes and best wishes. Reestablishing electrical power hadn’t been a completely positive experience for the town as reports of two
abandoned homes burning to the ground had filtered in.

Nick was busy organizing a team to go house t
o house and turn off breakers where there were abandoned homesteads. They were also going to warn property owners that electrical appliances left unused for months posed a fire hazard.

There were a hundred new tasks to be assigned and managed, but the entire population showed a vigorous attitude, anxious to get on with
rebuilding their little corner of the world.

As Bishop negotiated the ev
er more crowded streets on the way out of town, he noticed Terri was as happy as any of Alpha’s residents.

“Why are you all shits and giggles this morning, young lady?”

Terri reached across and brushed his hair. “Because of last night. Last night was extra special.”

Bishop grinned, his chest slightly expanding. “I was on my game, wasn’t I?”

Terri playfully swatted her husband. “No, that’s not what I meant, and you know it. I meant the huge step forward we took as a society last night.”

Bishop played hurt, his bottom lip slightly protruding in a pout.

Terri spotted the reaction and smiled, touching Bishop’s cheek. “You’re always on your game, my love. I’m a very lucky girl.”

As they drove, Bishop couldn’t remember a time when such optimism dominated Terri’s conversation. “Thi
s is a pivotal moment,” she declared. “This is everyone’s big chance. I just hope we do the right thing this time.”

“What do you mean?”

Terri rubbed her chin. “I can’t help but feel like this is our second chance. I just hope we’re good enough not to mess it up this go around.” 

Alpha, Texas

December 31, 2015

Nick was laughing at how sleepy Kevin was. Reminiscing about his own teenage years, the big ex-Green Beret still couldn’t resist teasing his son about the need to sleep in until noon. “Kevin, wake up son. You’re missing the best part of
the day. The sun will be up in an hour; snap out of it, boy.”

The younger man’s response was a half-hearted attempt to stifle a yawn. It only gave his father more ammunition. “All week long, all I’ve heard was you
r begging me to take you deer hunting up in the mountains. ‘I’m bored, Dad. There’s nothing to do, Dad. Please, Dad, please.’”

Kevin decided to push back, “I didn’t know deer hunters had to be in the woods before dawn. Nobody gets up this early to hunt.
I don’t even think the deer are awake yet. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Nick laughed,
draping his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Yes, son, I know what I’m doing. I took my first buck when I was 17. Your grandpa rousted me out of bed extra early, and I managed to bag a 12- pointer. I’ll never forget that glorious morning, that day, or that shot.”

The duo continued down the main drag of Alpha, Texas, strolling toward the courthouse where the electric golf carts were charging. As they passed the spot where
the president had been killed, Nick wondered if the town shouldn’t construct some sort of monument. He quickly dismissed the thought—there were simply higher priorities right now.

After the collapse, Alpha had
initially been overtaken by the prisoners from the city and county jails. No one really knew how they had deposed what little was left of the local government. Only the barricaded compound of a local church escaped their harsh rule, and that had started what amounted to a range war.

Nick and Kevin helped defeat the criminals and reestablish legitimate rule. Now the town was recovering, making its way down the bumpy road on its journey to normalcy—at least as normal as things could be without any sort of state or federal government. The restoration of electricity had really
made a difference. Things had been going well enough for Nick to take a break from rebuilding. It was a good time to take Kevin hunting in the nearby mountains, famous for their trophy white-tail deer population.

They had asked permission to borrow a golf cart, the preferred method of cross-town transportation. Generators were no longer needed to recharge the fleet of electric powered cars every night. Now they were plugged in to the charging equipment salvaged from the local golf course, making them ready to conduct the town’s business the following day. Gasoline was always in short supply
, and the electric transportation had been a godsend.

While he and Kevin could’ve walked, Nick wanted to save the boy’s strength to climb to a good altitude for the hunt. If they did harvest an animal, the golf cart would come in handy to bring the meat back into town. Meat was in short supply as well, so the semi-personal usage of the cart had been a no-brainer.

Less than a block away from the courthouse, movement along the row of basement windows caught Nick’s attention. It was just a flicker of a shadow, a hint of light. “Kevin, did you see that?”

“What?”

“I saw something along the windows over there.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what—something moved. Can’t you say anything but ‘What?’”

If nothing else, Nick now had his son awake. “I don’t see anything, Dad.”

Again, one of the basement windows flashed bright for just a moment, and then the illumination was gone. Nick looked at his son, who nodded—he’d seen it too. “What would anyone be doing in the basement of the courthouse this time of night?”

Nick didn’t have the answer for that. “That’s a very good question. It might be another one of the leftover prisoners. Let’s go check it out.”

Since the congregation of the church had taken over the town, they still encountered the occasional stray convict now and then. When the prisoner army had scattered, some fled to the desert, a few had surrendered, and many had died from wounds suffered during the battle. A handful of others had fled to the outskirts of town and gone underground. The church people still encountered the occasional vagabond—normally hungry and ready to surrender. A few decided to shoot it out rather than return to captivity.

Nick and his son moved up the courthouse steps with caution, approaching the
doublewide glass doors. Sure enough, the chain securing the entrance had been cut. Nick glanced at Kevin who nodded his agreement—they had to go see who it was.

Before the collapse, Kevin had been the stereotypical army brat. Girls, basketball, video games, and cars had consumed the lad’s interest, often to the chagrin of his father. Nick found himself constantly pressuring for
better academic results—pushing desperately for his son to prepare for college.

Being in Special Forces meant a lot of time away from home, a career choice Nick could have never accepted if not for his
own father’s help. Kevin often lived with his grandpa, and the two became close during the long periods when Nick was gallivanting around the globe and combatting terrorism.

The last few years of his distinguished military career allowed Nick to accept domestic training assignments at various US bases, and he utilized his free time to reestablish a strong bond with his son. The master sergeant’s retirement papers had been submitted just a few months before the
crash. Fate was with him once again when the world fell apart. Finishing out his tenure in the military by taking months of accumulated leave, Nick and his father had been on a fishing trip when everything fell apart.

Since then, Nick had utilized his skills more than ever, life being a constant struggle merely to survive. Kevin
had been right there with him . . . video game controller replaced with a rifle, hard fought basketball games replaced with tense gun battles.

Nick’s father had been killed by the Rovers just a few months after anarchy broke out, something both
son and grandson thought about every day. There hadn’t even been time to give the retired Marine a proper burial.

There were also positive aspects to this new life. When lives are on the line, the bonds of friendship and personal relationships grow strong. Bishop and his wife, Terri, had entered Nick’s world by accident, and the couple had fought side-by-side with his family. Nick’s relationship with his son was stronger than before—the distractions of civilization no longer between them.

Nick had met Deacon Diana Brown via random circumstance. Now he was in love with the de facto mayor of the small town. Life was looking up, and for the first time in years, Nick felt like he had a future right here in Alpha, Texas.

The light in the courthouse basement was possibly an intruder, intent on harming Nick’s new home. He and Kevin moved into the building with caution, each man naturally falling into his role. Nick led, sweeping the hallways and doors with his weapon, with Kevin behind, covering his father’s back.

They encountered nothing unusual en route to the basement steps. The lower floor of the courthouse contained records storage, a fact announced by the sign hanging on the wall next to the door leading down into the darkness below.

As far as Nick knew, there was one way in and one way out of the basement – the doorway he and Kevin now flanked. Nick racked his brain, trying to remember the contents below. As far as he could recall, there wasn’t anything down there but boxes of old
documents and archives stacked on the top of rows of file cabinets.
Why would anyone be down here at this early hour? It’s not as if the office is open to apply for a deer-hunting license,
he thought
.

Nick’s thought was interrupted by another flash of light illuminating the staircase. He glanced at Kevin, a look of puzzlement on both their faces. “I’m going to check it out. You stay up here in case he gets behind me.”

Kevin nodded.

Nick started down the stairs, staying close to the edge to minimize any creaking from the old wooden steps. The smell of old paper, floor wax, and stale air drifted up from below. Absolute darkness at the bottom of his
descent gave him pause, making him unsure of his bearings. From a far corner, the light flashed again.

The brief spot of brightness etched in his mind, Nick began moving, his rifle up and ready. Reaching the long row of storage containers, he paused again—waiting
for the intruders to show themselves.

Despite being ready this time, he was still shocked when the temporary beam of a flashlight illuminated two men standing in the aisle. He could clearly
observe the outline of rifles slung on their shoulders.

“Can I help you gentlemen?”

Out of habit, Nick moved back two steps after his challenge. It was a fortunate move. Two shots roared through the pre-dawn calm of the musty smelling basement, the flash of the weapons like a strobe on a dance floor. Nick felt the bullets slam into the wall right where he’d been standing.

Undaunted, he flipped off the safety of his M4 and returned a couple of shots himself—still sure it was nothing more than two escaped criminals loose in the basement. He fully expected their surrender after being fired upon.

“I’ve got men at the top of the stairs,” he warned. “Give it up, and no one will get hurt.”

There wasn’t any response. Brief whispers of sound came floating across the basement. Odd little scrapes, brushes, and movement of cloth.
They’re moving
, he thought.
They’re trying to get out.

Nick turned to intercept his quarry at the bottom of the stairs, but was too slow. A violent storm of gunfire erupted as he
detected shadows skirting toward the opening. Before he could shoulder and fire, the movement was past, and then the basement was calm again.

Rushing in pursuit, Nick yelled, “Kevin, I’m coming up!”

Taking the stairs two at a time, Nick burst out onto the main floor of the courthouse, his weapon swinging back and forth, searching out the threat. The hallway was empty.

He sensed, more than saw, Kevin leaning against the wall. “Did you see them, son? Which way did they go?”

“Dad, I . . . I . . . I don’t feel so good.”

Something in his son’s voice struck that dreaded cord embedded in all parents—a tone recognized from an early age—the sound of a child who is really hurt. Taking his eyes from the hall, Nick glanced over and
realized a parent’s worst nightmare. His son was propped against the wall, staring at his hand, which was covered in blood. Kevin flashed his father the most hopeless look the veteran warrior had ever seen, and then slowly slid to the industrial tile floor, his son’s body coming to rest sitting upright. Kevin’s arm flopped lifelessly to his side, revealing the bullet hole.