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

     “Thank you, Mom. I love you so much.”

     “I love you too, honey. We’ll make this happen somehow, I promise.”

-5-

     Linda keyed the microphone on the ham radio.

     “Scott in San Antonio, this is Linda in Junction. Is your lazy ass out of bed yet?”

     Sara giggled as they counted off about twenty seconds of radio silence.

     Then, a groggy Scott responded.

     “I don’t think the FCC likes it when you say ‘ass’ over the airways.”

     Linda chuckled.

     “Well, that might concern me, except that the FCC doesn’t exist anymore. And when they did exist, I’m sure they had more important things to worry about.”

     “It’s only six thirty in the morning, Linda. And it’s Sunday. Why in the world are you up so early? Is everything okay?”

     “Everything’s fine. And I’m up early because it’s my turn to man the security desk.”

     “Well, it’s so nice to hear your sweet voice so early on my day off.”

     “Your day off? Oops. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

     “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. What’s up?”

     “Scott, I’ve got Sara here with me. She’s been going through some turmoil about her parents. She wants to know whether they survived the blackout and the plague.”

     “I thought her parents were out of the state when the blackout happened. It might be impossible to find them, unless she knows what city they were in and what address.”

     “That’s just it, Scott. It turns out they were in San Antonio after all.”

     Sara never told Scott of the abuse she suffered at the hands of her parents. She was afraid that if Scott knew they weren’t really out of town, that he would send her back home. And like many victims of abuse, she took on the shame of her abusers. She still didn’t feel comfortable telling Scott of her ordeal.

     Scott said, “They were here the whole time? But, why didn’t you tell me before? We could have contacted them. They’ve probably been worried sick about Sara.”

     Linda’s silence spoke volumes, and Scott sensed there was more to the story.

     So he stopped asking questions and said instead, “If you’ll give me the address, I’ll go by and check on them.”

     “That’s just it, Scott. Sara wants to go herself. With us.”

     “The three of us?”

     “Yes. If you can swing it. You’ll have to borrow a car to come and get us.”

     “The car isn’t a problem. There’s enough running now and I’ve got one assigned to me. I’m expecting them to issue the all clear any day now. As soon as I get it, I’ll let you know. But…”

     “But what?”

     “Well, honestly, with Joyce gone and with Tom working every day at the sheriff’s office, do you think it would be wise for you to leave the compound so short- handed? I mean, could Jordan hold off another assault by himself long enough for help to arrive?”

     It was a valid point, and one that neither Linda nor Sara had considered.

     Sara looked at Linda and whispered, “It’s okay. Scott can take me. It’ll give us a chance to bond and get reacquainted again.”

     “Are you sure, honey?”

     “Yes. He’s right. They’ll need you here if anything bad happens.”

     Linda was disappointed, but saw the logic and relented.

     Sara smiled, then took the microphone from Linda.

     “Thank you, Dad. I guess it’ll just be you and me. I love you so much!”

     “I love you too, sweetheart. And you’re welcome.”

     Scott got off the radio a bit puzzled. It was the first time Sara had ever called him “Dad.”

     He wasn’t displeased, of course. Sara was a wonderful girl, one any man would be proud to have as a daughter. It was just that he thought it strange she would reach out to Scott as a father when she had a father at home.

     Or, at least she used to.

     Of course, had Scott known the true nature of Sara’s home life before the blackout, he’d known that Glen was anything but a father to her. He was more of a monster.

     Scott was concerned about Sara’s emotional state if it turned out her parents hadn’t survived. He wanted to spare her the grief of walking into a house to find the skeletal remains of what used to be her mother and father.

     He resolved to make sure that didn’t happen.

     Scott chatted with his son Jordan a couple of times a week. He knew Jordan got bored, working the two a.m. to six a.m. security shift every other day. So he got up sometimes just to call and chat with Jordan on the ham radio. It was a good way to stay abreast on what was going on at the camp.

     He made a mental note to ask Jordan for Sara’s old address the next time they talked. So he could run by to see if her parents had survived.

     And to bury their remains if they hadn’t.

-6-

     A couple of days later Tom snuck away before daylight, careful not to wake anyone in the house. He waved at Zachary, taking his turn at the security desk, then put on his gun belt and headed out the door.

     Zachary thought nothing of it. He figured Tom was just going into work a little early. He’d done it a dozen times before.

     He had confided to Zachary a few days before that he’d never known there was so much paperwork involved to being sheriff.

     “I thought it would be like it was in the old western movies,” Tom had told him. “I figured I’d ride up and tell the bad guys to give themselves up, and if they didn’t we’d just have a shootout on Main Street.

     “And, of course, I’d always win, just like in the movies. The sheriff always won the gunfights.

     “But this job, this job has so many forms to fill out. I have to fill out a form every time one of my deputies pulls his gun, whether he shoots it or not. I have to fill out a form every time somebody reports a theft. And every time we arrest somebody, even if it’s just for getting drunk and stupid. And then when I let somebody out of jail, another form. Some days it seems like that’s all I do.”

     The last time Zach had seen him leave so early, he’d asked why, and Tom had grumbled, “Heading to the office, to fill out more damned forms.”

     So it was understandable that Zach wasn’t curious at all to see old Tom arming up and heading out so early in the morning. Didn’t challenge him, didn’t even ask why. Merely wished him a good day.

     On this particular morning, though, Tom Haskins had no intention of going into the office. On this particular morning, Tom Haskins had a mission to go on. And he wouldn’t take a posse with him. This was something he needed to do alone.

     He was careful not to tell anyone in the compound about his intentions. They’d hear about it after the fact, anyway. And Linda would be upset. Actually, she’d probably be furious with him, for going to such a dangerous place alone.

     But at least she wouldn’t have to worry about him making it back at that point. She’d rant and rave and probably call him a couple of choice names. But it wouldn’t matter much then.

     His mission would be done at that point, and he’d be back safely.

     At least, if everything went according to plan.

     “I just didn’t want to worry you,” he’d say.

     And she’d eventually calm down.

     It was the first time he’d gotten the old Ford Galaxy over fifty miles an hour in ten years, but he didn’t worry about her. She purred like a kitten and seemed to appreciate getting the chance to run.

     The Galaxy never had air conditioning. Back in the days when it was new, air conditioning was a very expensive option on new cars. It was considered a luxury. Most buyers opted out of it.

     He cranked the driver’s side window down, then reached across the bench seat and did the same with the passenger window.

     After the air was flowing through and keeping him cool, he chuckled to himself, remembering an old joke from his youth.

    
One man asked another, “What kind of air conditioning do you have on your car?”

     “I have two fifty five air conditioning.”

     “Two fifty five air conditioning? I’ve never heard of that. How does it work?”

     “I roll two windows down and drive fifty five miles an hour, and I’m as cool as a cucumber.”

     As he put more and more miles between himself and Kerrville, he grew serious again.

     And wondered what lay ahead of him.

     He knew that San Antonio could be a dangerous place. He’d heard the stories that John had told to Hannah, of marauding gangs roaming through the streets, killing and raping and plundering as they went. Most of that should be a thing of the past now, since John and Scott and all the others had been working hard to clean up the city and normalize it again.

     And Tom Haskins was afraid of no man, so even if the marauders were still there, it wouldn’t have bothered him much.

     Marauding outlaws might have inconvenienced him. Might even have slowed him down a bit.

     But they wouldn’t have kept him from his mission.

     He wasn’t afraid of a mechanical breakdown either. The old Ford wasn’t what she used to be. But she was still a workhorse. Always had been. Her luster was gone, but her heart still beat strong. The engine was sound. If one of the other parts: the radiator, the starter, the transmission, went out, he was capable of walking back. It might take him a few days, but he could do it.

     So the possibility of taking an old car on a long trip and breaking down didn’t bother him much either.

     No, the only thing that worried old Tom Haskins was failure. Failure to accomplish his mission. For that would let some good people down. People he cared about. And the thought of that happening was much worse than having to walk ninety miles or face bad men with guns.

     So he’d succeed. He had to.

     He’d given Dawn Hawkins, his administrative assistant at the Sheriff’s Office, very specific instructions the day before.

     “I’ll be going on a road trip to San Antonio tomorrow. I cannot tell you why, and I’m sorry about that. This is just something I have to do. You wouldn’t understand my reasons even if I told you. You’d think I was a crazy old man, which I probably am. So I’ll just keep my motives to myself.”

     “No problem, sheriff. What do you want me to do?”

     “Just cover for me. I should be back in Junction in the late afternoon. If I am, I’ll call you on the radio and let you know. If you don’t hear from me, you can assume it’s just taking a little longer than I thought.

     “If that’s the case, Linda and the folks in the compound will be looking for me. They’ll likely call you on the ham and ask where I am. Just tell them I’m doing sheriff’s business and will be working late, and will just spend the night at the office.”

     “Yes, sir.”

     Dawn was chomping at the bits to find out more about the sheriff’s mysterious mission. She wanted to ask, but held her tongue. A mere girl of nineteen, she was trying her hardest to convince the sheriff that she was a professional. It was imperative to show him she was capable and worthy, so when she asked him to let her become Junction’s first female deputy he’d have no qualms with granting her request.

-7-

     “Okay, I thought the last one would do it. This one will, for sure.”

     Rhett wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and picked up the next knotted rope in the line.

     This was the fourth in a group of twelve houses they wanted to collapse before winter set in.

     It was slow going. But this one was about ready to come tumbling down. When they’d pulled out one of the exterior studs a few seconds before, the house popped, groaned, and swayed.

     But it stubbornly kept standing.

     Scarlett, standing behind her husband, muttered, “Crap. This is really hard work.”

     Rhett turned and looked at her, his muscles sore from tugging on the heavy ropes, but didn’t say anything.

     “Oops, sorry,” she said with a sweet smile. “I’ll shut up now.”