Welcome to the Greenhouse (33 page)

Bear shook his head. “Lost her,” he said. “Lung disease. Cancer, we think.”

Des looked up at Bear and laid a hand on his arm. “She’s with God now.”

Bear’s molars ground together. But he tried to take the words as Des intended: as comfort.

“Don’t worry about the colonel,” Des said. “Just keep your head down. You’ll do fine.”

“Hard for me to do,” Bear replied, “keeping my head down.” Des seemed to think he was joking, and chuckled. “How did you end up here?”

“Gloria and I never made it to Seattle. Fortunately we found this refuge. We joined Colonel O’Neal’s company a long time since, and we have been here doing the Lord’s work, helping to comfort the soldiers and succor the refugees.”

Succor?
Was that what they were calling it now?

“Colonel O’Neal is building an army,” Des went on. “He is working with others across the U.S. to rebuild and reclaim our country. It’s a great endeavor! You must join us. We need you.” He showed Bear the barracks, the “soldiers” doing drills, the fuel and military vehicles. Obviously O’Neal had big plans.

“The man doesn’t look very military.”

“Well… technically, he’s not.” In fact, the remaining few U.S. military battalions had been disbanded twelve years ago. There might be a few companies here and there, in the major cities, but they reported up no chain of command. “But that’s going to change soon. He wants to reconstitute the U.S: reunite the entire northern portion of the country.”

He went on like this for a while. Bear fell silent. Des eventually seemed to notice. He stopped and turned. “I know we parted on less-than-friendly terms, Bear, but that’s all behind us. I hope you know that. It’s a sign from God that you are here. I’m so thankful to see you.”

Bear said, “Pastor, we were friends once, and I’m grateful for your help just now. But I have no intention of joining Colonel O’Neal in these escapades. I simply want to take my kids and go.”

“Kids?” Pastor Des seemed confused. “You and Orla never had kids.”

“I mean the kids I came in with. The refugees. I made a promise. I mean to keep it.”

Des got a horrified look. “Oh, no, no, no. You have to let that go, Bear. There’s nothing you can do for them now. They’re destined for a munitions factory in Denver. We need all the hands we can get, to help us prepare for war.” “

What?”

“This is God’s plan! To make America great. We’re going to invade Canada.”

Now it was Bear’s turn to stare, horrified. “Des… that’s insane.”

“I thought so too, at first. But it’s a good plan. Let me show you.”

He had brought Bear to a giant hangar. The hangar had big radioactivity warning signs on it, and Authorized Personnel Only. A guard stood outside. He glowered at them, but Desmond gave him a stern look and he let them through. Des must be in good with the colonel. Or he had something on him.

Inside the hangar was a blimp—the largest airship Bear had ever seen. It was lit by floodlights. People, ant-size against its flanks, swarmed around working on it. Beneath its belly was a cabin the size of a 757, and numerous missiles. Nuclear weapons.

“It’s nearly ready,” Des said. “It’s one of five military blimps that were built in the thirties and forties. Four are still in good repair. They’ve been moved to our northern border and are being outfitted for battle. The colonel is coordinating with other military commanders west of the Great Lakes.” You mean warlords, Bear thought. “We’ve uncovered this cache of nuclear warheads, and are going to use our blimp to deliver them to the other airships soon. I’m told they are even getting orders from
Washington,”
he said in a hushed voice tinged with awe. Unlikely, Bear thought, unless a tin pot dictator had set up shop in the White House. Which since Washington, D.C., was uninhabitable in the summer, like most of the U.S. south of about forty degrees north latitude, did not make sense.

Des went on, “We’re shorthanded. We need engineers who can help keep equipment in repair. Here’s a chance for you to show your worth. The colonel will reward you.”

Bear stared at his old friend. They stood beneath one of the few lights in the camp that was not burned out. Words wouldn’t come. Nuke Canada? The sheer delusional magnitude of the plan overwhelmed thought.

Des misinterpreted his silence. “Impressive, isn’t it? Our glory days are ahead.”

Bear rubbed his mouth. “I’m a railroad engineer, Des. I know nothing about aeronautics. Never mind airship technology. Or nuclear weapons.”

“A machine is a machine. You’ll figure it out.”

Des took Bear to his place, where Gloria made him a late dinner. They served a meal the likes of which he had not had in years: bread with real butter, roast chicken, yams, and asparagus, with a glass of ‘82 Merlot.

“Impressive provisions,” he remarked. Des beamed. “Yes. The colonel has his connections.”

“I’ll get the cheesecake,” Gloria said, laying her napkin on the chair. She shared a look with Bear that told him a great deal about Des, Gloria, and the choices they had made.

Des swirled his wine in his glass. “Too bad you didn’t find us earlier, Bear. Maybe they could have treated Orla’s cancer.”

Really, he shouldn’t have mentioned Orla. “You never much cared for her, did you, though?” Bear asked.

“Aw, Bear. That’s water under the bridge.”

But something about deciding he was ready to die made all this a lot easier for Bear. The church held no more power over him. And he found he had a lot of things to say. “I seem to recall you hated her for her defiance of the church.”

Des’s face grew stiff. “It was not for me to judge her. That’s God’s job.”

A knock came at the door. Gloria answered, looking anxious. An enlisted man stood there. “The colonel wants to talk to Mr. Jessen.”

Bear shook his head. “You still spin such amazing bullshit out of your own hot air.”

Des’s lips went thin. He stood and threw his napkin on his chair. “You want to know what I think? God punished your wife for her defiance. It’s too late for her. But
you
have a chance to repent. Jesus welcomes you with open arms. Come to me when you are ready.”

“I don’t think so.” Bear stood.
Orla, he shouldn’t have implied that, about your cancer being God’s punishment.
At the door, he turned. “I’m done with your God and I don’t think we have anything more to say to each other.”

The airman took Bear to a room at the command barracks, where Colonel O’Neal and his second-in-command waited. Two armed men stood outside the door. They made him sit in the room’s only chair.

“Now it’s time for you to tell us what happened to my men out on Highway 93,” the colonel said.

What the hell,
Bear thought. “All right. I killed your men myself. I’d do it again if I had the chance. They were about to slaughter a group of innocent children.”

They stared at him as if he had grown two heads. The colonel said, “I didn’t think we’d have it out of you so quickly.”

Bear shrugged. Death by firing squad seemed an okay way to go. Death by torture, not so much.

“They weren’t necessarily going to kill them,” the colonel said. “We need strong arms and backs for our war effort. Of course I give my troops broad discretion. We have an agreement with the Canadians. We help protect their borders and they give us any refugees who make it across.”

“Ironic, that, since you are using those refugees to build ammunition to attack the Canadians.”

The colonel looked at him thoughtfully. “Yes.” He paced for a moment. The major stood by the door, silent. “Ordinarily I would have you executed, Mr. Jessen. But we are in sore need of engineers. So Major Stedtler and I”—he gestured at the other officer—“have decided to give you a reprieve. If we can count on your cooperation, we will keep the children you traveled with here, and not send them off to the factory.”

Hostages,
Bear thought. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Jessen.”

The hell you are.
“What about Patty?” “

No, you can’t have Patricia. I have other plans for her.”

At that, Bear caught a fleeting shadow in the major’s eyes. Disgust? Anger? Or envy?

“I want to see the children now.”

The colonel studied Bear. “All right. Fair enough. But I have my limits. For every stunt you pull, one of your kids gets a bullet. Clear?”

“As crystal.”

Bear might be old. He might not be as massive as he once was, and his joints in the morning were stiff. But he was still plenty big and plenty strong. And he wasn’t afraid of dying anymore. He surged at the colonel and picked him up by the neck. His hand encircled the colonel’s neck as easily as a normal-sized adult’s hand might encircle a child’s. He plucked the gun from the colonel’s holster with his other hand. To Bear’s joy, it turned out to be his own Colt.45.

The colonel flailed in his grip, pinned with his back against Bear’s massive chest. Bear put the colonel between himself and the major and eased his grip on the colonel’s throat, just enough to let air through. As he did so, the two armed men burst in and aimed their weapons at him. Colonel O’Neal made wheezing noises but couldn’t speak. Bear said, “Drop your guns on the floor. Kick them over to me. Then lie on the floor with your hands on your heads”

The men did so. The major said, “You’ll never make it out of here.”

“You let me worry about that part,” Bear said.

He got the information he needed from the major, and left him trussed up and gagged in the interrogation room, secured to a pipe. Each of the colonel’s two guards he left in their own little rooms, also securely tied and gagged. He wasn’t a big fan of shooting people out of turn, but couldn’t have them alerting the camp. He tied and gagged the colonel, too, and carried him out over his shoulder, like a sack of grain. He crossed the camp in darkness to the building Des had pointed out to him as the colonel’s quarters. He knocked several times before Patty’s face appeared at the window.

Her eyes widened. She gestured and shouted. He could barely hear her.

“It’s locked! I can’t get out!” So Bear kicked the door in.

He came inside and dumped the colonel on the carpet. The room was dark other than the light streaming in through the door. Patty gazed at the colonel with contempt. She was wearing a flimsy nightgown. She gave him a good, hard kick in the testicles. Colonel O’Neal curled up with a moan.

“Let me get dressed,” she said.

“Hurry.”

When she came back in, she was wearing her clothes from before, Orla’s jeans and sneakers and a T-shirt, and was tying her long hair into a bun. “What are we going to do with him?” she asked, gesturing at the colonel.

Bear hadn’t wanted to kill the colonel. But after seeing Patty in the nightgown, he had changed his mind. He raised his gun but Patty put her hand on the barrel. “No. We may need him.” She pulled Bear out of the colonel’s earshot. “We can rescue the children and steal a vehicle.”

“And I know
exactly
which vehicle to steal,” Bear said, thinking of the airship. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“I do. They are in a big building,” Patty said. “A room with benches where people watch sports. What do you call it?”

“A gymnasium?” Bear asked.

“Yes. A gymnasium.” She pronounced it
hymn-nauseum.
“All right, then. We’re getting out of here. We’re headed to Hoku Pa’a.”

Amusement glinted in her gaze. “I thought you didn’t believe in Hoku Pa’a.”

“If it doesn’t exist yet, it will when we get there.”

She smiled.

The best-guarded place in camp was the hangar with the nuke-encrusted blimp. He glanced at his watch. It was midnight. They needed to be out of here before dawn and there was too much to do before then. He looked at Patty, so fierce a woman, so tiny—barely more than a child herself. He grimaced.
Dammit, Orla; she’s given me something to care about.
He handed her an automatic weapon. “Can you rescue the children on your own?”

“I can.”

“You sure? It’s important, Patty. Don’t say yes if you don’t mean it.”

“I saw only two guards guarding the gymnasium as we passed by, and they were both drunk.” She glowered. “You have to trust me, Bear. I know what I am doing.”

“All right. I’m going to need time to rig a diversion. It’ll take most of the night.” He took her to the kitchen, and gestured at Des and Gloria’s place. A light shone in their window. “I want you to take the kids
there.”
He pointed. “Hide the kids. Take Desmond—the man— hostage. Tell him you need to talk to his wife. When she comes out, you bring out the kids out. Her name’s Gloria. You tell her Bear said they needed a good meal and a decent night’s sleep. She’ll make sure they are taken care of.

“But you have to watch Des, the pastor. The man. You understand? He’s afraid of
him
“—he gestured at O’Neal, who glared at them from the carpeting—“and he’ll turn you in or raise the alarm, if he gets a chance. Also, don’t let Desmond get Gloria alone, or he will bully her into doing what he wants. Got that?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“At six AM, bring the children and meet me near the airship hangar. You can’t miss it—it’s the giant building at the base of the hills. That way.” He pointed out the window, at the black hills that blotted out the starlight to the southeast. “Don’t be late.”

Two guards were at the munitions shack. They were both asleep when he found them, and stank of booze. He took their flashlights and other equipment, tied them up with electrical cord, and left them a safe distance from the shed. In the munitions shack he found everything he needed. Bear might not know nukes, but as a former railroad man, he knew explosives. He spent the next several hours prepping charges and setting up a radio detonator.

Then Bear went back for O’Neal. The warlord (Bear refused to think of him as true military) had managed to worm his way from the middle of his living room carpet to the kitchen and was on his knees by the kitchen counter… presumably trying to get a knife out of the drawer. Bear slung him over his shoulder and headed out toward the blimp hangar. It was almost six AM.

The sky was still dark as pitch. Patty was waiting for him, and so were the rest of the kids. The children swarmed around Bear and greeted him. They were all there, miraculously, in one piece, along with a few other people Bear didn’t recognize. “They needed help too,” Patty said.