Through Many Fires (Strengthen What Remains) (19 page)

“
I’ll
send the men out in the morning.”

The
next evening as the sun bent low over the hills west of Hansen, Caden sat at
his desk. Dark shadows spread across the room and instinctively he turned the
knob of the lamp on his desk. He was surprised by the glow of the lamp.
We
have power! Good.
For a moment he wondered if the men out at the coal plant
had it running. Brooks had led a squad out at first light and later in the day
brought out several civilians who had worked in the plant, but it was too early
for them to have it up and running. He scribbled a reminder to get a progress
report on Monday.

He
picked up the next paper that required his attention.
I had hoped for a slow
day yesterday and received it today.
He grinned.
The tedium of paperwork
is a nice change.

There
was a knock at the door. “Come,” he called, still reading.

“
You’re
late for supper.”

Startled
at the sound of Maria’s voice, he looked up and grinned at the sight of her
leaning against the doorframe holding a basket. “What have you got there?”

“
Let’s
see,” she said and pulled out a bottle. “Blackberry wine, made right here in
town.”

“
Nice.”

“
I’ve
also got bread, butter, cheese and crackers. Now all I need is someone to help
me eat them.”

“
I
think I can assist you with that.” Caden stood and moved toward Maria, but as
he did he could see the staff in the outer office. “Let’s find somewhere
private.” As they stepped into the hallway, Brooks and Lisa approached. “Let me
guess,” Caden whispered to Maria. “This was Lisa’s idea.”

“
She
might have mentioned it, but I didn’t object.”

“
Lieutenant
Brooks,” Caden said as they passed, “I’m going to have dinner with this lovely
young lady. Keep an eye on things for the next hour or so.”

“
Yes,
sir.”

Ten
minutes later Caden and Maria found an uninhabited storeroom and borrowed an
old wooden table and two mismatched chairs from the barracks for their dinner.

The
last rays of the sun cast long shadows across the brown crates and green ammo
boxes that took up much of the room. Caden started to turn on a light, but then
noticed a candle left by the door of the room. “We haven’t had much time alone
or much time to talk.” He lit the candle and set it in the middle of the table.

She
pulled two wine glasses from the basket. “That is why I thought it would be a
good idea to come here.”

“
I
hope you have a cork screw.”

She
handed it to him and he opened the bottle while she buttered the bread.

“
I
didn’t think there was food left in any store in town. Where did you buy all of
this?” Caden asked.

“
We
didn’t buy it. The stores are empty. Your father traded two guns, some ammo and
a bottle of scotch for a cow and calf.”

“
He’s
been busy today, but I asked how you got the wine, cheese, bread—everything.”

“
Lisa
and I traded a gallon of milk and two dozen eggs for the wine and cheese. We
made the bread and your mom still had crackers.”

“
Where
are you doing all this trading?”

“
You
know that park in front of the Hansen library?”

“
Sure,”
he said pouring the wine.

“
Well,
people gather there to barter things. Everyone went today, except Sue, she’s
still pretty tired, and we traded for things we need and,” she lifted the wine,
“a few things we just wanted.”

Caden
noticed a small handwritten label that read, “Please return the bottle when
done.” He pointed it out to Maria.

“
Yeah,
the family that makes the wine said they aren’t sure they can get more bottles,
so they’re asking people to return them. They’re going to work out some sort of
a discount if you do.”

He
smiled as she took a sip of wine and stared into her eyes, marveling at how
well and quickly she fit into the family and community that he was only now
rediscovering.
Maybe we can hold civilization together until things get
better.
He reached out and touched her hand.
“Maybe you and I….”

A
soldier burst into the room. “Sir, Lieutenant Brooks sent me to find you.” The
man took a deep breath. He thought…you should know…President Durant…he’s placed
the state under martial law…and…activated the Guard units.”

Caden
had little motivation to get out of bed, other than maybe to shoot the rooster.
The first rays of morning sun pushed back against the darkness of his bedroom,
but he closed his eyes, rolled onto his side and pulled up the blanket. Why not
get a few more hours of sleep? No crisis called for his attention this Saturday
morning—then he heard the scream.

In an
instant he was at the only window of his room. It looked out over the main
field of the farm, but he could see little in pre-dawn twilight. He was certain
the cry came from outside.
Probably from the barn.

He
threw on his clothes, grabbed his SIG pistol and hurried downstairs.

His
mother stood in the living room, “Trevor and Maria are outside. I think it was
Lisa.”

Sue
came down the stairs as he ran out the front door. Immediately he spotted his
father at the front of the barn and Maria, with a rifle, off to the side. His
dad signaled for him to go to the back.

Once
there, Caden threw open the rear door, looked left and right and then hurried
in. The interior was so dark, he saw almost nothing. Immediately he took cover
behind a stack of hay bales to his right and waited an agonizingly long time
for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he saw was Maria silhouetted in the
open door of a horse stall. With a wave of the arm he signaled her to move and
she ducked into the shadows.

Next
he saw Lisa. A young man stood behind her. One hand clutched her jacket, the
other arm was wrapped around Lisa’s neck like a sleeper hold and so the knife
was to the side of her throat. By the position of the knife Caden could tell
the assailant was not a trained killer. Beyond those two, near the front of the
barn, his father stood in a shooting stance.

Caden
tried to maneuver for a clear shoot, but the guy kept turning, using Lisa as a
human shield.

“
All I
want is food! Get me food and I’ll leave!”

“
Put
the knife down and we’ll get you food,” Trevor said.

“
No!
I’m not stupid. Get me food or I cut her throat.”

“
You
cut her throat and I’ll kill you,” Caden replied.

“
I’m
hungry. All I want is food. The last meal I had was a lousy MRE two days ago.
Believe me I’ll kill her.” The man pointed at Trevor with the knife. “You, old
man, get me….”

With
no knife against her neck, Lisa kicked back hard against the man’s leg and
dropped like dead weight.

Trevor
fired a single shot.

The
man fell backwards and hit the floor with a thud.

Father
and daughter ran to each other and embraced. Lisa, cried, “I just wanted to get
the eggs and milk for breakfast.” Leaning into her father, between sobs, she
continued. “I didn’t think…didn’t bring my gun…he came out of the dark…grabbed
me so quickly…I didn’t see him.”

Caden
checked for vital signs and, looking to his father, shook his head.

“
It’s
all right,” he said to Lisa. “If he had just come to the door and
asked…maybe….”

Back
in the house Caden called and talked briefly to Hoover.

A
couple of hours later a single deputy came to the farm. “Do you know his name?”
he asked while writing notes in a pad.

“
No,”
Caden responded.

The
officer asked a few more questions as he continued to write. “There have been
attacks on other farms, the food bank…any place where there might be food.
People are desperate.” There was no mention of any further investigation. The
sun was high in the sky before a van from the sheriff’s department came and
took the body to the morgue.

Caden
stared as the vehicle rumbled away.
Death in America has become
common…inconsequential.
It was not the fact of death that caused him pause;
it was the brutality of casual killing. He had seen that in Iraq and
Afghanistan, but not in America. Perhaps it had always been there in the
poorer, gang-infested, neighborhoods, but he had not seen it until recently and
now it came to the barn beside his home and threatened to take his sister. What
next, a gunfight in the house?
It was a solemn day at the Westmore farm.

The
next morning as everyone sat around the breakfast table Lisa asked, “Can we go
to church?”

“
That’s
a good idea,” their mother said.

“
And
the swap meet,” Maria suggested, “It looks like a nice day to go out.”

“
I’ll
pack the extra eggs and milk in a cooler,” Lisa added.

“
We
can’t all go,” his dad said, shaking his head. “Someone needs to stay here on
guard until things return to normal.”

Caden
wasn’t interested in church. He wanted to say he would stay and guard the farm,
but he had a mouth full of pancake.

“
I’ll
guard this week and go with you next week,” Trevor said.

Sue
put her hands on her belly. “I should stay home too. I’m still tired from all
the walking we did to get here.” She turned to Maria. “But I will take care of
Adam for you.” Maria started to speak, but Sue insisted it was the least she
could do.

Caden
saw that Maria, Lisa, and his mother really wanted to go. He swallowed his
mouthful of pancake and said, “Okay then, let’s make a day of it.”

After
breakfast Caden returned to his room to dress for church. He was glad that he
had just dumped clothes into his duffle bag, including several nice shirts and
ties had been stuffed inside, even a suit. He wondered if his mother had ironed
the clothes because they didn’t have the wrinkles he remembered.
Did I hang
the clothes in the closet? Did I even unpack when I got here?
He couldn’t
recall.

He put
on a pair of slacks, a pastel blue shirt and royal blue tie. As he reached for
the suit jacket he stopped.
No place to conceal a pistol.
In the closet
he found a heavy jacket, put it on and then slid the SIG into the inside
pocket.
From now on I go everywhere armed.

The
events of yesterday morning again intruded on his thoughts.
The guy could
have slit Lisa’s throat and stolen whatever he could find. We wouldn’t have
known until later. We do need to keep a guard here. Maybe we should stay in
pairs. No, that would be difficult. If we could keep in better contact…. Where
are those two GMRS transceivers I bought in West Virginia?
As he continued
to dress, he looked around the room, but didn’t find the radios.

Everyone
walked out on the front porch as they got ready to leave. The sky was clear
blue and for a February day it was mild.
Could the radios be in the car?
He walked over and checked under the driver’s seat.

Maria
came up beside him. “What are you looking for?”

“
Those
GMRS radios.” He continued to look while talking. “Remember, we used them in
Alabama?”

“
I
remember. They’re in the back of the car.”

Walking
toward the rear of the vehicle he asked, “Are you sure?”

“
Yes.”

He
opened the rear and immediately saw the three pistols, including the pink
Ruger, taken after the gunfight at the church. He had forgotten about them.
They’ll
be good for trade or additional security.
He paused as the killing in the
church lobby flashed through his mind.
The woman was killed. Sure it was
self-defense, but it should be investigated. Aren’t these guns evidence? Should
I turn them over to Hoover?
He smiled grimly.
Didn’t Hoover shoot some
looters? Was there any inquiry of that? No one seems to want any bother about
the barn shooting.
He was certain there would be none about the church
shooting, but still it seemed wrong to keep the weapons.
In the end, he
decided to hold on to them until he could talk with Hoover.
He picked up
two pistols, leaving the pink one alone. It was senseless, but that gun gave
him a bad feeling, he didn’t want it in the house.

Caden
was about to tell Maria she was wrong about the radios when he spotted them in
the corner partially under the seat. Clutching them and the pistols he walked
over to his father. “These transceivers will be good for keeping in touch
around the farm. We can trade the weapons for things we need, but keep them
until I clear it with the sheriff.”

Soon
he was driving the three ladies to the church just outside of Hansen, where he
had been baptized as a teen. As he passed over the creek on the main road he
looked for the red-haired kids who often fished there, but was disappointed.

He had
good memories of friends, cookouts and ballgames while in the youth group, but
it had been ten years since he set foot in the building. He struggled to recall
the last time he had been in any church other than for a wedding. It wasn’t
that he was an atheist or even an agnostic, but in his hell-bent pursuit of a
career he had little time for God. However, if it made the women in his life
happy, he was willing to go and even smile.

The
church, a large, white, wood-frame building that dominated the top of a hill,
was just ahead. They followed a horse-drawn wagon full of people into the
parking lot. There were a dozen cars parked in front, but as the church bell
tolled most people came by foot. At the edges of the parking lot three horses
were tied to trees. The wagon pulled up close to the front door. Kids jumped
from the back as a couple of adults disembarked more slowly, then the man led
the horse and wagon to a tree in a grassy lot beside the building.

As
they entered the sanctuary, Caden’s thoughts were far away, recalling a hayride
with the youth group as a teenager. The morning sun, shining through a large
stained glass window, warmed his face and brought his attention to the present.
The congregation stood and sang a hymn acapella. He looked back at a corner
where he once sat with young friends and recalled summer camp and the Boy Scout
troop that the church sponsored. He took in a deep breath as if trying to suck
in the atmosphere so full of light and life that it washed away the darkness of
the previous weeks.

His
mother selected a pew near the middle of the sanctuary and the rest of the
family followed. Caden stood silently, holding Maria’s hand. He didn’t know the
words of the song they were singing, but he liked the sound.

A
couple of hymns later, a middle aged man walked to the front as the
congregation sat.

“
Good
morning everyone. For any new people, I’m Jim, an elder here at Hansen
Community Church. Before we get started there are just a few announcements.” He
paused to look at his notes. “Dave, the owner of the farm supply store, donated
a greenhouse to the church. We’re going to use the large area behind the
building for growing vegetables this spring. We need help assembling it and to
put up a security fence. If you can assist, sign up at the desk just outside
the sanctuary. Also, if you know where we can get more greenhouses, let us
know.”

Good
idea.
Caden recalled seeing one along the freeway behind the burned-out home of a
friend.
There are probably more. We need to find a way to use things that no
one claims.

Jim
continued his announcements, “…and if the power stays off, like it has this
weekend, the Doran’s will need help at their dairy and are willing to pay in
milk, butter and cheese. Several farmers have told us that, if gas stays in
short supply, they will need help with spring planting and probably harvest.
They are willing to pay in food. That sign-up list is also out at the desk.”

Caden
continued to think about greenhouses and other equipment the community might be
able to find and gather. Suddenly he became aware of a different voice. An
older man now stood at the front of the congregation.

“…
will
never forget those terrible events of less than a month ago. Many of us have
lost family. Most of us know someone who died. The nuclear fires have tested
the nation and our community. The aftermath of those terrible days continues to
test us and they will be with us for years to come, but like Shadrach, Meshach,
and Abednego of old, our nation has been through many fires and we have come
out of it with our faith intact.

“
God
did not bring this wickedness down on us; He is not the author of evil. What we
have seen is evil, in all its forms, working against the will and the plan of
God.

“
Much
that was good has been burned away and lost, but like metal forged in flame,
what is left behind is stronger than before that dark day. Now, as it says in
Revelation, we need to, ‘wake up, and strengthen what remains.’ Our work isn’t
done and the path will not be an easy one, but we need to take on this yoke and
move forward. We have a community to rebuild and a nation to restore.”

Caden
nodded inwardly. He had never put it into words, but strengthening what
remained seemed an appropriate description of what he had been trying to do
since he returned home. He stood with others as the music played and in that
moment it seemed the struggle to save Hansen was a burden they all shared
equally, but more than that, it was as if his own personal burdens were shared
by everyone in the congregation. His mother would call what he felt the Holy
Spirit. Caden wasn’t sure, but it felt good to be there. The next time he had
the chance he would come willingly.