Push Back: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (The Disruption Series Book 2) (32 page)

“Worse how?”

“Like now everybody is supposed to pool their food and supplies for the COUNCIL to distribute. Except the people on the council, and most of the people who voted for it, don’t have anything to contribute. Hell, we can’t even get most of them to take a turn at guard duty, but they want to run things.” He shook his head. “Most of us have resisted, but they’re getting more aggressive, and like I said, things are getting tense.”

“Actually I’m relieved to see you in such good shape,” Kinsey said.

“You can thank Connie for most of that,” Zach said. “You know how she loves her garden. She wouldn’t even let me put in a pool because she didn’t want to give up the garden space, and she took up over half the storage room in the garage for the stuff she canned out of the garden.”

Kinsey grinned. “You can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.”

Zach snorted. “You got that right. Anyway she had another idea. We had two freezers in the garage full of fish and game, and our neighbors on either side had pretty much the same. And between the three households we had a couple of little Honda generators, so we moved the generators around and ran the freezers three or four hours a day to preserve the food. Then we pooled our propane bottles, and Connie and the other ladies used the gas grills and camp stoves to can as much of the meat as possible. And when they ran out of propane, we started pruning our trees real hard and finished the job on wood fires in the backyard. When they ran out of canning jars, we started eating the frozen stuff and consolidating the rest in one freezer. We didn’t lose any of it at all; we either ate it or canned it.”

“Pretty smart,” Kinsey said. “What about water?”

“We had a rain barrel, and I helped the neighbors rig tarps for rainwater. We treat it with a few drops of Clorox for drinking. One of our neighbors has a pool, and we’ve been using buckets for washing and flushing toilets. The pool’s half-empty now and it’s gettin’ kind of green, but it’s better than nothing.” Zach shrugged. “It sucks, but it’s doable.”

Kinsey nodded, and Zach shot a worried sidelong look at his companions and lowered his voice. “Ah … about that, Matt. We don’t have much left, maybe a week for the folks we’re supporting. I don’t think—”

“Relax, Zach,” Kinsey said. “I’ve got a safe place in Texas, and I came to get you all. It’s not without its challenges, but there are plenty of supplies for at least the immediate future.”

Zach’s relief was visible, even in the peripheral light of the headlamps; then he looked concerned again.

“What’s the problem?” Kinsey asked.

“It’s not just us,” Zach said. “Reba and George are here with their two kids, and so are my folks. And we’ve always been tight with our neighbors; they’re like family, especially now. We can’t just leave them here to fend for themselves. I wouldn’t feel right about it, and I know Connie won’t leave them.”

Kinsey was quiet a long moment. “How many?”

Zach was quiet, mentally counting. “Seventeen.”

Crap
, thought Kinsey.

Chapter Seventeen

1615 Lombardy Lane

Baton Rouge, Louisiana

Day 29, 7:25 a.m.

Kelly Kinsey sat on the couch beside her father, a hand slightly resting on his forearm. She’d hardly let him out of her sight since they woke her. For all her nineteen years, she was very much a little girl again, unwilling to be separated from her dad for even a moment. Kinsey gave her hand a reassuring pat and turned his attention back to the group. He sighed. Nothing was easy.

After a joyous and emotional reunion, his plan derailed almost immediately. The quick race upriver under the cover of darkness never happened, and he sat now in a group meeting in Zach and Connie Duhon’s living room, discussing ‘options.’

“We appreciate you coming, Matt,” Connie Duhon said, “but I don’t see how this ship is an improvement on our situation. We all have gardens in and enough supplies to last until they start producing, if we’re careful. We get plenty of rain, so drinking water isn’t a problem, and we’re already rigging more tarps to replenish the wash water in the swimming pool.” She shook her head. “It’s not perfect here, but I doubt any of us want to go to some strange ship. And what about these convicts you mentioned? It sounds like we’re safer here.”

Around the room there were nods and murmurs of agreement. Kinsey nodded as well, suppressing a surge of secret, guilty relief as his life just got a hell of a lot less complicated. Still, they were family, and his own conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave it at that.

“It’s not without its dangers,” he said. “I’ve been up front about that. But in the long run, it’s the better option. You’ve done great here, but you’ve got no reserves. When you get right down to it, you’re one failed garden crop away from starvation in increasingly hostile territory. But if you don’t want to come, that’s your call. I came here mainly for Kelly, so the rest of you can make up your own minds.”

Connie hesitated. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Kelly is an adult now. She has a say in the matter.”

Kinsey was dumbstruck. He’d been so focused on getting here and so relieved at finding Kelly well, it never even occurred to him she might not agree to his plan. He turned and saw the indecision on her face.

“Kelly, honey, what DO you want to do?”

“I want you to stay here. Why can’t you do that?”

“Because I have obligations there too,” Kinsey said. “A lot of people are depending on me, and I really think it’s the best option in the long run. You’re scared; we all are, but I need you to trust me on this.”

Kelly shot a look at her aunt Connie, who almost imperceptibly and perhaps unconsciously shook her head. Kelly looked conflicted, then turned back to her father.

“If … if you think it’s best, Dad, I’ll come.”

Kinsey reached over and folded his daughter in a hug as he fought down a lump in his throat.

“Okay,” he said, releasing her, “that’s that. We’ll leave as soon as it’s good and dark. I’m sorry the rest of you—”

“Just a minute, Matt,” Zach Duhon said, then turned toward his wife. “Connie, let’s not be hasty.” He glanced across the room to two men standing on either side of the door into the dining room. “Things are getting a lot worse with the council.” He hesitated. “I’m not so sure how long it’s going to be safe here.”

“What do you mean, Zach Duhon? You’ve been telling me Fat Ass Fontenot was just a big blowhard and nothing to worry about.”

“He is, but he’s managed to control the council, and three days ago they started taking food and supplies by force, for the ‘community store.’ The only reason they haven’t messed with us is they know we have six men and we’re all armed. But we’re one of the few places neighbors have banded together, and Fat Ass’s group is getting stronger all the time. Even folks who should know better are going along for self-preservation. When they finish all the easy marks, I think we’re next.”

“And you’re just telling me this NOW?”

Zach shook his head. “And why would I tell you before? So y’all could all go crazy worrying about it too? I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since it all started.” He nodded to the men standing near the door. “Me, George, and Jerry have been trying to come up with a plan, but I think maybe Matt’s offer is the best answer.”

Kinsey listened, conflicted and thinking of his earlier conversation with Hughes. Seventeen people was considerably more than Hughes was expecting.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock.

“DUHON! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!” yelled a voice from the front porch.

Zach rose and walked to the door as Kinsey gently disengaged himself from Kelly’s hand and rose to follow. The others in the room followed suit.

Zach opened the front door to face a man standing at the glass storm door. He was in his sixties, red-faced, and agitated. Overweight despite the times, the man was dressed casually but expensively, as if about to play eighteen holes. However, his clothing was rumpled and dirty, and he had graying stubble on his cheeks. He looked like a fat, homeless golf pro.

Zach pushed the storm door open and stepped onto the porch, forcing the older man back. The man’s eyes widened as Kinsey and the others crowded out behind Zach, filling the small porch. It was almost comical to watch him scamper down the two steps to stand on the sidewalk, just out of reach. As Redface stood there trying to recover his dignity, Kinsey looked beyond him into the front yard. There were six armed men there, and two more stood on either side of a pickup backed into the driveway.

“What do you want, Fontenot?” Zach asked.

The man ignored the question. “You’ve crossed the line this time, Duhon. You know it’s against the rules to let outsiders inside the perimeter. Who are these people?”

Duhon started to reply, but Kinsey touched his arm. “I’m Chief Petty Officer Matthew Kinsey, US Coast Guard,” he said. “And who might you be?”

The man puffed up. “I’m Ronald Fontenot, president of the Community Council.”

Kinsey nodded. “Congratulations.”

He suppressed a smile as the older man turned redder still, but the others on the porch were less diplomatic and laughed out loud. Fontenot turned back to Zach Duhon.

“Folks around here are sick and tired of you acting like the rules don’t apply to you, Duhon. First you hoard food and supplies, and now you’re harboring outsiders. By order of the council, these men are to leave the community immediately, and you are further ordered to turn over all your food and supplies. They’ll go to the community store, and you will receive your fair daily distribution, just like everyone else.” He inclined his head toward the pickup truck. “Now start loading it into the truck. If you refuse, I am authorized by the council to arrest every person in the household eighteen years old or older. Is that clear?”

Kinsey saw Zach tense, and he put his hand on his own sidearm. He was about to respond when a voice rang out from the side of the house beside the garage.

“What is clear,
couyon
,” Cormier yelled, “is that you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. ’Cause, you see, I got me five shells fulla double-ought buck in this old Model 12, and I can take out all your men standing there all grouped together. And I mean right now.”

Fontenot stared at the corner of the garage, where only the barrel of Cormier’s shotgun was visible. “You’re bluffing.”

“No, he’s not, and neither am I,” came Bollinger’s voice, and Kinsey looked to the right to see the barrel of an M4 protruding from the opposite corner of the house.

“Me neither,
Gros Tcheu
,” called a voice from above, and there were titters of laughter from the porch at the use of the Cajun for ‘fat ass.’

Kinsey smiled. Bertrand! He must be in an upstairs window.

Fontenot made a strangling sound of impotent rage, and his men, never too enthusiastic to begin with, were decidedly less so when faced with armed resistance. They all took obvious care to keep their hands away from their weapons, and one actually had his hands raised.

“This isn’t over, Duhon,” Fontenot finally managed.

“Oh, I think it is,” Zach said. “Now get the hell off my property, Fat Ass.”

Fontenot stalked to the truck and motioned his men to follow. He got in the passenger side as his men piled into the bed, and the truck sped away.

“He’s right about one thing,” Kinsey said. “I don’t think it’s over.”

Zach nodded. “I know. Let’s go talk some more about your ship.”

***

“But we can’t leave tonight,” Connie Duhon said. “We have to pack all the stuff, and most of the food is in jars, so we have to pack well to keep them from breaking.”

Kinsey shook his head. “No way, Connie. I’m not even sure we can get all the PEOPLE up the river, much less supplies. Everyone gets one small bag, a change of clothes, toothbrush, stuff like that, along with enough food for three days. Each person will carry their own bag, except for the kids, who carry as much as they can. We’ll divide the rest of the kids’ food among the adults.”

Andrew Cormier stood in the dining room doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door jamb and watched the confused back and forth of the meeting. He broke his silence.

“Y’all need to take every gun and bit of ammunition you have. It don’t spoil, and if you don’t need it, you can trade it.”

Kinsey nodded. “Good idea.” He turned to Zach. “How you fixed for gas? We brought enough for our own small outboards plus a bit extra, but some of that went up with our truck. I’m not sure we have enough fuel left for that gas-hog boat of yours.”

Zach shrugged. “There’s most of a tank in the boat plus what we have left around here. We stopped making scavenging runs when the gangbangers ran wild, so all the cars have at least a little left. We can siphon it and leave just enough in a couple of cars to get to the river. The problem is, other than a few gas cans for our lawn mowers, we got nothing to put it in. And speaking of the boat, how the hell we gonna get it in the river? There aren’t any boat ramps near where y’all are tied up.”

“Just make sure it’s loose on the trailer and back it down the bank,” Cormier said. “We’ll keep a rope on it to make sure it don’t get away from us in the current.”

“But the bank is mud. How will I get the car … oh yeah, I don’t guess it matters, does it?” Zach said.

Cormier grinned. “It’ll be a one-way trip. And I’d have all the windows down and my seat belt off if I was you, just in case the car slips in the mud and keeps going. We don’t have time to chase nobody downriver on the current. Not that we could find ’em in the dark anyway.”

“I really love that car,” Zach mumbled.

“If we can’t take all the food,” Connie said, “I’m not leaving it for Fat Ass. I’m going to give it to the Wilsons and the Trahans on the next street over. They—”

“No, you’re not,” said Kinsey and Cormier in unison.

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because word will spread we’re leaving, and Fat Ass would likely try to shake us down for the gas or make some problem,” Zach said.