The Homecoming: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 5 (16 page)

     It wasn’t the first time, but would be one of the last. The light at the end of her tunnel was the knowledge that in only five more days, she and Scott would be driving back to the compound together.

     And forever.

     She hugged Sara goodbye first, and then the man of her dreams. He lingered a lot longer with Scott.

    “I love you, Boogerhead. When do you expect to be back?”

     “I love you too, Doll. Probably not until after ten. Leave your ham on, and I’ll call you when I get back. If you’re asleep, I’ll ask whoever answers to leave a note on your pillow.”

     “Okay. If I get called in, I’ll make sure the scanner is on at the nurse’s station. We’ll listen for the code.”

     The men of the new San Antonio Police Department had long before developed their own special set of police codes they used to pass brief messages over the official police network. The police chief and his senior staff knew about it, of course, and overlooked it as a way of fostering better morale and taking care of their men.

     In the police world, both were essential.

     Code 10-2511 meant that Scott or his loved ones were all present or accounted for. When that call came over the police radio later, the average citizen might scratch his head and think he misheard something else.

     But Becky, and any of Scott’s other friends, would hear the code and know that Scott was back from his trip, safely at home, and ready to call it a night.

     The system worked so well that the entire force now used it. Each district had a different set of codes, and each of the officers in that district had committed theirs to memory.

     Some were so elaborate they almost defied logic. A couple of days before, when Randy called out to John, “Charlie Three Seven, 10-4753, five by five,” most of the officers on duty just ignored the call as nonsensical.

     John, however, understood Randy’s instructions to stop at an abandoned liquor store and pilfer five bottles of booze, to support a party starting at five p.m.

     It was a whole new world, not just for the men and women protecting the city of San Antonio, but for society in general.

     Two and a half long years after the blackout, many things had changed. Many things once considered taboo were now common practice. Many common practices of the past were now taboo. Society had made adjustments in many ways, and it seemed to be working.

     Although virtually unrecognizable from the world of three years before, things once again seemed to be thriving.

              -31-

     But Scott’s safe return to San Antonio was still several hours away.

     First, there was the two hour car ride back to the compound, to drop off a young and fragile woman who was an emotional wreck.

     The day had taken a heavy toll on Sara. It was a roller coaster of laughter and sorrow, and tears of both pleasure and pain.

     Now, Sara sat mostly quiet, watching the scenery roll by, occasionally wiping a tear or trying to suppress a chuckle at something someone had said or done.

     It wasn’t until the pair was within a few miles of the compound that she finally opened up.

     “I’ve decided to forgive her, and I’ve decided she isn’t the vicious and selfish bitch I’ve always thought her to be.”

     “I’m glad, Sara. It’s nice to know that Scarlett isn’t as bad as everyone thinks she is.”

     “I’m talking about my mom, Mister Smartass.”

     “I know. And I’m still glad.”

     “Why?”

     “Because it renews my faith in you as one of the most compassionate and caring people I’ve ever known. The easiest thing in the world would have been for you to carry a grudge. To continue to hate her for not being there when you needed her, and not protecting you when she should have. No one would have blamed you for continuing to feel that way, because nearly everyone else in the world would have, were they in your shoes.

     “But you’re choosing to rise above that. You’re accepting of the possibility that there may have been more to the story. That maybe after all this time, you might finally see that maybe it was she who was the weaker of the two of you. That maybe she didn’t protect you because she was simply incapable. That maybe she was waiting for you to gather the strength or the opportunity to rise up and correct the situation yourself. To rescue both of you from the same sad situation.”

     “Oh, please don’t put it that way.”

     “Why not, sweetheart?”

     “Because it makes me sound so cold and heartless. When you turn it around like that, it makes it sound like I’m the one who deserted her when she needed me the most. It makes me the cold and heartless bitch, not her.”

     He turned and looked at her, then reached out to catch a tear rolling down the crease of her nose.

     “Well, honey. There are three things I know for sure, despite all the uncertainty of the whole situation.

     “Number one, you’ve already considered that possibility or you wouldn’t have forgiven her. And number two, you know better. You’re too fine a person to abandon anyone in their time of need. And you’re smart enough to have already considered the difference between your actions and her own.

     “The fact is, she knew of your situation and chose not to intervene. We don’t yet know whether it’s because she didn’t care or was unable. That’s something for you to discover, or perhaps to decide in your own mind.

     “But you can’t mix apples and oranges. You can’t say you were guilty of abandoning her. Because while she was well aware of your situation, you knew nothing of hers. In fact, you still don’t. You have considered the possibility that she was too weak to help you, or to help herself. But at this time it’s only a possibility. And at the time you were suffering your abuse, you didn’t even know it to be a possibility. If you had, things would have ended much differently. There are few things in life I’m certain of. But that’s one of them.”

     Sara drew silent again for several minutes. Then, her curiosity got the best of her.

     “If you’re so certain, then I have to ask. If she were too weak and afraid to save me… if I was actually the stronger of the two, then how do you think I would have handled it if I had known?”

     “I think you’d have taken your mother aside. I think you’d have told her, ‘Mom, I’ve got this. But you have to follow my lead, and never look back. And if you’ll agree to do that, then I promise that bastard will never hurt you again.’”

     Sara turned to him, now more curious than ever.

     “And then what?”

     “I think that out of rage for what he’d been doing to you and your mother, that you’d finally rise up and find a way to send him a very strong message. Maybe a baseball bat to the side of the head. Maybe a well-placed knee into his groin. Maybe a sharp knife to the throat. I don’t know how. But I think you’d bring him to his knees and make him beg for his life and slobber all over himself trying to apologize for what he’d done.

     “And I think you’d show him the mercy he never showed either of you and spare his life. But I think you’d also warn him in no uncertain terms that if he ever darkened either of your lives again you’d kill him. Or throw him in prison.

     “I’m sure he would know that what he did to you would ensure he’d die a miserable death in prison, at the hands of men even more brutal than he was. And I’m equally sure that he would leave your lives forever.”

     “I would hope that I’d find the strength to do that, knowing it would mean leaving all of our nice things behind and maybe living in our car again.”

     “You would have, and you wouldn’t have.”

     “Huh?”

     “You would have found the strength, because if you found out your mom was weaker than you and just as much of a victim, you would have found the inner strength to rescue both of you, regardless of the circumstances.

     “And you wouldn’t have slept in your car because Jordan would have found out what you did, and we’d have taken both of you in.”

     “Seriously? Both of us?”

     “Seriously. Jordan would have insisted on it, and we’d have relented.”

     “You think I’d have been strong enough to stand up to him?”

     “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

     “Yeah. Sure. All eighty nine pounds of me, would find the strength and courage to beat up a so called ‘man’ of over two hundred pounds.”

     “Don’t sell yourself short. The courage is something you have within you. Probably always have. It’s a given, so we’re not gonna debate it. If you don’t believe me, ask Jordan. Or Linda. Or anyone else at the compound. They’ll tell you they admire you for how you handled yourself during the shootout. And how you’ve stepped up to help out up there wherever and whenever they need it.

     “I think Tom knows it best. He told me when I was up there after the shootout that you’ve grown a set of balls to rival any man within ten miles. I suspect that’s why he agreed so readily to make you one of his deputies. Because not only does he know you can handle it, but he knows you also deserve the chance.

    “So your courage is a given. As for the chances of a little spit of a girl kicking a grown man’s ass, I submit to you this: hold out both hands in front of you.”

     She didn’t know why, but she did as she was told.

     “Do you feel anything pressing down on your hands?”

     “Duh… no.”

     “That’s because all you’re holding up is air, and air weighs very little, does it not?”

     “Uh, not much at all. But I still don’t get it.”

     “You’ve seen the reports on the weather and news channels about all the damage that tornadoes do to the Midwestern states and Texas panhandle every year, right? You’ve also see the movie
Twister
?”

     “Uh, I haven’t seen much news lately, but yes. I do know the damage that tornadoes can cause. So?”

     “So, tornadoes are made up of nothing but air. The only difference between the air you hold in your hands and the air in those devastating tornadoes is that the air in the tornadoes has something to agitate it.

    “In the case of the tornadoes, what agitates the air and makes it violent is turbulent air masses of varying temperatures and compositions.”

     “Still not getting it, sorry.”

     “In the same way calm winds can be turned into a killer tornado, a little spit of a girl, who weighs little more than a handful of air, can be turned into a little ball of terror. All you need is something to agitate you to that point.”

     “Like my anger, or rage?”

     “Exactly. And agitated enough, you’d be able to kill a man like Glen with your bare hands if you wanted to.”

              -32-

     The two pulled into the compound, but sat in the car to finish their conversation before getting out.

     Scott drove home the point he’d been trying to make.

     “And you wouldn’t have given up your standard of living, because by that time Jordan was in your life. You’ve told me before that he was your own personal hero, right?”

     “Yes.”

     “So… if you took your mom and ran from Glen, Jordan would have come to me and Linda and Joyce and explained the situation to us. We would have immediately intervened. Probably sent your mom to the compound to work with Joyce, and brought you into our own home where we could protect you. We’d have done something, anything, to help the situation. Because Jordan would have demanded no less. He’s been in love for you for years, remember. Even before the two of you started dating.”

     Her mouth dropped.

     “Oh, shut up.”

     “It’s true. You never knew that?”

     “You’re lying now.”

     “When we go inside, ask Linda to show you the photo.”

     “What photo?”

     “The photo we came across a year ago. It was taken the day Jordan stopped wearing his hair long, in about the fifth or sixth grade. We called it the end of his hippie days, and took a photo of him in his room to celebrate the occasion. He was sitting there at his desk doing his homework when we walked in, his mom mentioned how handsome he was, and he smiled for the photo.”

     “So?”

     “So, look at that photo when you get inside. It shows Jordan, in his Backstreet Boys t-shirt, grinning ear to ear. And in the background, hung above his desk, is a big red heart he’d just cut from construction paper. It said ‘Jordan Harter loves Sara Stewart for-ever and allways.’ He never was much of a speller.”