The Alpha Chronicles (30 page)

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Authors: Joe Nobody

BOOK: The Alpha Chronicles
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“Now you’re talking,” agreed Bishop. “There are some things only the community can do as a whole - projects that will be beyond the scope of individuals.
That’s why governments have always been formed. You can’t ignore that reality. There has to be a balance.”

“I’ll accept under one condition,” Terri announced to Diana.

“Okay.”

“I get to address the issue at Fort Stockdale first,” she said with defiance.

Diana shook her head, surprised at Terri’s request. “I know that day at Station #4 shocked you, but I thought you had gotten over that. I’m a little surprised it’s still bothering you.”

A look of frustration crossed Terri’s face, her voice becoming cold. “Please don’t underestimate me, Diana. I’m not making that demand based on revenge or some ivory tower concept of righting all the wrongs
in our little corner of the world. More than half of the people that are immigrating to Alpha are coming from the Fort Stockdale area. While I would love to set things straight in that little town, my motivation is to take the pressure off Alpha. If we fix things in Fort Stockdale, people will stop migrating here.”

Diana’s finger found
her chin, “I’m sorry; I did underestimate you. You’re absolutely right about Fort Stockdale. If we addressed the source rather than bustle around trying to treat the symptoms, the patient would no doubt improve. I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t think of that myself.”

“When I told Bishop about my plan, he told me a story about Afghanistan that made a very good point. He made me promise to remember that nothing is as it appears, and that I should use that as a rule moving forward.”

“Sounds like sage advice. It also sounds like Bishop is completely onboard with your taking the job.”

Terri grinned, “I would
n’t go that far. He still has reservations about being married to a politician.”

Both women laughed, and then Diana rose up from behind her desk and walked around to take Terri’s hand. “Welcome to
the jungle, Ambassador. Come on in - the water’s fine.”

“Liar.”

Diana snorted, “You’ve got the hang of this game already! I’ll let Pete know your decision. I look forward to hearing your idea regarding how to fix the problem in Fort Stockdale.”

Alpha, Texas

February 7, 2016

 

Lou deposited the three men four miles outside of Alpha. It had dawned on the security man that he, personally, was one of those people who believed gold would have astronomical value when things settled back down. Since Mr. Lewis didn’t have any interest, Lou felt no disloyalty in asking his team of spies to check out the rumors floating around about this Bishop character.

Each man was issued an AR15 and several magazines of ammunition. Their orders were very specific – find out as much as possible about Alpha’s electrical capabilities. If information
comes to light about the gold, all the better.

As he watched the three saunter
off, a wave of second-guessing gripped the man. He had recommended these guys to the boss, and if the whole thing went south, it might blow up in his face. The men he was sending into Alpha weren’t overly mature and definitely not the highest IQs in the county. Far too aggressive, cocky, and unafraid, the trio was bound to run into trouble.

As he turned the SUV around and began the long drive back to
Midland Station, his concerns began to fade.
What’s the worst that can happen?
he thought.
Alpha’s a tiny little shithole, and no one really cares much about what’s happening there anyway.

Sergeant Mit
chell hoped this town would be more interesting than the last one. After getting busted for his third drunk and disorderly in the last eight months, he had decided his military career was over. His service record in Iraq and Afghanistan had kept his rank at an E7 after the first incident. They had demoted him one pay grade after the second infringement, and he was surely facing time in the brig after this last little session with a bottle of moonshine smuggled in from El Paso.

Fort Bliss and the A
rmy were deteriorating, anyway. Since Mitchell had been stationed at the desert base, there had been an assassination attempt on the president, tanks firing on civilians outside the front gate, and even a murder mystery involving some dude and his wife. Things were surely going to hell.

Food rationing had begun not long ago, followed shortly after by the base’s generators being shut down at night to conserve fuel. Training exercises were canceled, MP patrols minimized
, and even the movie theatre was closed. Morale was low and desertions high.

The two privates strolling along with him had been fast acquaintances, all three men drying out in the base’s drunk tank. They were far from model soldiers themselves, and it had been a mutual agreement to desert if the opportunity presented itself.

It finally did. Released until a court martial scheduled for the following week, an unattended HUMVEE had been far too tempting. One of the privates swore his family owned a nice country place outside of Katy, Texas where the trio would be welcomed. A land of plenty... plenty of booze, plenty of women, and plenty of food.

So
down I-10 they traveled, barreling along in the stolen HUMVEE and heading east for Katy. One little problem occurred a few hours after their departure, however. That diesel engine under the hood of the military vehicle consumed a lot of fuel, and no one had counted on gas stations no longer being an option. They had walked 12 miles to Midland Station, the HUMVEE pushed off the road and hidden until they could find, steal, or earn some fuel.

Nick was helping Kevin clean his rifle when the radio transmission came in. “Nick, this is Corey at the north end roadblock. Are you there?”

Nick unhooked the portable from his belt and acknowledged the call.

“Strangest thing just happened. We had three
healthy looking guys walk up to the checkpoint. They were wearing civilian clothes that looked cleaner than mine…accessorized with military-issued packs. They claimed to have walked from a relative’s house up by Fort Davidson, but there wasn’t any dirt or dust on their boots.”

Nick thought about the description for a moment and hit the push-to-talk button. “Maybe they cleaned themselves off before coming into town. Maybe they wanted to make a good impression on someone.”

The response was almost immediate. “That could be. As they were walking off, one of them turned around and asked if I knew a guy named Bishop.”

Corey had Nick’s attention now. “Go on.”

“When I told him I did know of a Bishop, the guy asked me if he was in Alpha. Claimed Bishop was an old Army buddy of his and wanted to look him up.”

Nick walked away from the workbench, staring into the distance. “Were these guys military?”

“I would say yes. Short hair, the right age range, and in pretty good condition.”

Nick’s voice sounded strained. “Weapons?”

Corey was now becoming nervous, no doubt wondering if he had done something wrong. “Well, that’s just the thing. I noticed the outline of a rifle barrel protruding from one of the packs. I told the guy he didn’t have to hide anything – that weapons were allowed in Alpha. I thought he was going to freak for a second when I mentioned the gun.”

Nick turned to Kevin who had been listening
to every word. “Go warn Bishop… right now… hurry.”

Kevin answered “Yes, sir,” as he ran out the doorway.

Corey transmitted again, “Nick, did I mess up?”

Nick shook his head even though the man at the other end of the conversation couldn’t see it. “No, no you didn’t do anything wrong.
As a matter of fact, I appreciate your being so observant. We’ll let Bishop know to watch his back. You did the right thing by contacting me.”

“We sent them to the courth
ouse. They should be getting there about now to check in.”

“Okay, Corey. Thanks for the heads up. Nick out.”

Nick hefted his rifle and shoved in a magazine. He grabbed two spares from the workbench and headed for the door. A single bound down the front steps left him beside the golf cart, within seconds speeding toward the courthouse.

A short t
ime later, he arrived, the scene seeming like a typical day. The volunteers were at their usual stations, ready to help the new arrivals. While the inflow had slowed somewhat, Alpha still received 25-35 new refugees a day.

Nick slung his rifle and approached the main reception station. The three ladies looked up and smiled. “What brings you here today, Nick?”

“I was wondering if three young men checked in recently. Say, the last 10-15 minutes?”

The women all looked at each other and then checked the clipboards full of paperwork sitting in front of them. “No,” one of the ladies answered, “we had a single older man and
a family with a 17-year old boy, but that’s been it.”

Nick looked to the north, hoping to see the thre
e men walking toward the courthouse. There wasn’t any sign of the strangers. “Okay, thanks, ladies. If three younger men do check in, will you ask someone to radio me and let me know they’re here?”

“Sure, Nick. Is there a problem?”

“I don’t think so, but I just want to be certain.”

With that, Nick waved farewell and began walking toward the north, pulling his rifle around to the ready. While Alpha was as f
ree a society as one could imagine, there were a few rules. When the men working the checkpoints instructed a newcomer of the need to check-in at the courthouse, it was expected for people to comply.

If these guys didn’t show up soon, Nick had the excuse he needed to become inquisitive. Nick grunted.
And
I can be very inquisitive
, he thought. Continuing toward the northern roadblock, he reached the point where he could see the barrier off in the distance. Corey and two other men were sitting in the shade of their golf carts, that approach to Alpha not having any traffic at the moment. 

Nick couldn’t see anyone walking between him and the outpost.
They’ve disappeared
, he thought. The big man pivoted and headed back for the church, hoping Kevin had found Bishop and Terri. Retrieving his electric ride on the way back, he soon saw Kevin trekking in the same direction.

“Did you find Bishop
and Terri, son?”

“No, I sea
rched the church and didn’t find them, but one of the ladies said she thought they were working at one of the schools. Westside Middle School is what she said.”

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