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Everyone was sitting anxiously in the living room except for Brody who was on watch. Darren and Kathy had immediately kicked everyone out of the kitchen area after Allison had been placed on the large dining table. It had been over an hour. With the house’s open floor plan, they all kept very quiet to prevent disturbing Darren as he worked. They had hung a curtain next to the operating table to allow some extra privacy. Most people just sat in silence with some praying silently. The only thing breaking the silence was Darren occasionally giving instructions to his wife Kathy, a former nurse. Sean sat at one end of the couch with Maria’s head lying in his lap. He gently ran his fingers through her hair as she slept, exhausted from the excitement and emotion of the long day. He stared into the flames of the fireplace and watched them dance along the logs with an occasional crackle to break the silence.
Sean wished his parents were there. If anything happened to Allison, he would never forgive himself for agreeing to make the dangerous journey with her. What if it was Maria in there, he thought to himself. The emotions of that thought started to well up and he pushed them back down. He would not let his thoughts drag him down into that dark place. All it would do is make him worry and stress out. He allowed his mind to wander for a while, thinking about simpler times, happier times, times when they were first married. They were inseparable.
They had met while serving in the Air Force and married young. Maria had just turned nineteen. Sean was a Survival Instructor and Maria had been stationed straight out of Basic Training on their side of the base to process the students as they came and went through Survival School. Sean remembered the day vividly. She was moving into the co-ed dorms for a career field dominated by men. In fact, she was only the third female in the entire dormitory that housed three hundred men in a highly prestigious career field. Sean’s work was cut out for him. He had been bent over the engine of his old 81 Chevy pickup the day her parents drove up to drop off a beautiful Hispanic goddess. He had grease up to his elbows but quickly rushed in and cleaned his hands so he could help them carry her stuff in.
They fell for each other instantly and spent nearly every second of their free time together for the next four months. One weekend they had been discussing their future and the fact that Sean’s four-year enlistment would be ending before long. He didn’t have any job lined up locally so what would become of them when he moved back to Pittsburgh? How would they stand being on opposite ends of the country? Sean threw out the thought of them getting married so they could get base housing and he could stay in town and use his GI money to go to college. She didn’t hesitate and the following weekend they eloped to The Hitching Post in the next town. However, Maria had never let him live it down that he never got down on one knee and that his marriage proposal was more of a conversation. It had stayed an inside joke between them.
Sean brushed a strand of hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. There had been really good times during their fifteen years of marriage and there had been really bad times, but through thick and thin they always found their way back together. Sean reached over and ran his hand over her belly. What kind of world was he bringing this child into? What would the world look like in seven months? Could he provide a safe environment for his child to grow up in? There was so much to think about, so much to plan. Sean’s mind had been running scenarios and trying to stay one step ahead ever since the lights went out. He just couldn’t turn it off. He wouldn’t. There was so much to stay ahead of and Sean knew that if they made just one wrong decision, it could mean the end.
Kathy abruptly walked around the curtains looking haggard while wiping blood off her hands with a dish towel. Sean immediately thought the worst. His heart leapt up in his throat and panic set in all in a single instant. He jumped up off the couch, startling Maria awake. He rushed over to Kathy who put her hands up reassuringly and forced a small smile.
“It looks like she is going to be okay,” she said out loud. Sean lost his motor functions and fell to his hands and knees as his worst fear was overturned. He gasped for breath as he started to cry which quickly turned to laughing in utter joy. Kathy shushed him and Maria was quickly at his side on her knees crying softly with her head on his back and her arms wrapped tightly around his chest. Sean looked over to see Randy give Damian and Andrew a high five as the women hugged each other.
“She’s not out of the woods yet though,” Kathy started. “There is still some danger from infection that could set in and she needs absolute bed rest for the next few weeks. She has a broken rib and she lost a lot of blood. If you hadn’t used the quick clot to stop the bleeding, Darren said there is no way she could have made it so long.” Sean stood up and walked over to hug her. She accepted the hug awkwardly and held her hands out to prevent getting Allison’s blood on him. All of a sudden there was a line of children with heads wedged between the spindles of the loft railing. All the excitement and commotion had brought them out of the second floor playroom and they were wondering if they had missed something fun.
“What’s goin’ on, momma?” Randy’s oldest asked.
“It’s okay Sweetie. We just heard some good news, that’s all. You guys need to keep quiet. Go downstairs and get ready for bed. It’s way past your bedtimes,” Emily told the children, trying to coax them down to the basement sleeping quarters.
“What’s the good news, daddy?” one of Caleb’s older sons asked.
“Well, that friend of ours that was hurt earlier is going to be okay now. There is a doctor here that fixed her all up,” Caleb answered his boy. “Now listen to Miss Emily and take your sisters downstairs quietly and get ready for bed.”
“There’s a doctor here?” he exclaimed excitedly. “Can I meet him?”
“In the morning son, for now you kids need to get ready for bed. We have a busy day of chores tomorrow.” There were ‘ewws’ and ‘ahhs’ all around but in unison the children turned and headed down the loft steps for the finished basement sleeping quarters. Sean smiled at them as he turned back to Darren’s wife for more details.
She hesitated before slowly asking, “We were actually wondering if we could have something to eat? We’re both pretty famished.”
“Oh my goodness, yes!” Rose said, jumping up from a chair as everyone seemed to hurry forward all at once to help in any way possible.
Kathy held up her hands to stop them, “Just the ladies, fellas. Your sister has been through a lot and is finally sleeping. She is too fragile to move right now so we need to keep it quiet.”
“Can I just see her real quick?” Sean pleaded.
“Sure, just make it brief and don’t wake her,” Kathy said with an authority that only comes from being a nurse for twenty years.
Sean walked around the makeshift curtain to see Darren slumped in the chair next to the dining room table and Allison’s still body. His eyes were heavy and he seemed to be on the verge of passing out. “Thank you Darren,” Sean whispered sincerely.
“Don’t mention it,” he waved Sean’s thanks aside. “I’m just glad she pulled through.” By now the women were quickly yet quietly making their way around the kitchen, getting some food together.
“What do you say we let the women folk rustle up some grub while you relax and join us over in the great room?” Sean asked quietly.
“That sounds good,” he said while pulling himself slowly out of the chair. “Let me wash up and I’ll be right over.” Sean smiled and nodded before turning towards his sister. He saw Kathy watching him out of the corner of his eye, waiting to pounce should he disturb her patient. Sean knelt down next to his sister and softly placed his hand on top of hers. She was breathing easier now but still a little raggedly, probably from the broken rib.
He watched her sleeping for a moment, then stood up and kissed her lightly on the forehead and whispered, “Way to be tough, kiddo. You’re going to be alright now. Sleep well, I love you.” Not wanting to disturb her any further, he left her and walked back to the great room just as Damian was coming up the steps from the basement with two brown bags in his hand.
“What do you say we have ourselves a little meeting of the minds? Let’s head out onto the deck.” The men grabbed their coats and went outside and sat around the large patio table as Damian pulled a large bottle of twenty-year-old DeMaurange single malt scotch out of the first bag.
“Now you’re talking!” Randy said as he pulled up a chair.
Damian pulled a couple packs of Backwoods cigars out of the second bag. “I’ve been saving these for a celebration,” he said as he tore the wrapper off and started passing cigars out. “Figured now’s a good as time as any.”
“Thank you, Damian,” Sean said sincerely as he accepted a cigar, “for everything....” Damian waved off his thanks and grabbed a chair. They sat in silence at first, passing a lighter and glasses, till everyone was alight and had a glass in hand, including Darren who had joined them. Sean raised his glass in the air, “To my baby sister’s health and speedy recovery and the hopes that Darren’s services will never be needed again.”
“Here, here!” everyone responded with Darren being the quickest to respond. They clinked glasses all around and took the first sip of many to come that night.
“I can tell you one thing for certain,” Andrew chimed in as everyone turned to hear what he would add. “Brody’s going to be pissed.” Everyone laughed out loud at that.
Caleb cut in to the laughter after a moment. “I say we draw straws in a little while and one of us go out and relieve him for a bit so he can partake.” Everyone nodded. “But not yet,” he added with a smile as he closed his eyes in satisfaction and took a long pull on the cigar.
MR. ANDREWS GENTLY tapped his pipe against his palm to release the excess ash. He took out the tip of a deer’s antler that he used as a tamper and gently tapped on the tobacco. He took a couple deep draws till a sweet billowy plume of smoke emerged, slowly spreading its fragrance throughout the opulent room. He picked up the book off the side table next to him and went back to reading. It was only a few paragraphs later that he closed the book once more in frustration and set it back on the side table.
“I’m bored,” he said to himself as he took another deep draw on the pipe. It had been over three weeks now and he was running out of things to occupy his time. Mr. Andrews had recently retired as CEO of a large defense contractor that developed advanced weapons for the various branches of the armed forces. Their specialty wasn’t in guns, grenades, or vehicles. His company had specialized in cutting edge technological weapons: the expensive type. Their last project was the development of a weapon that could send a concentrated shockwave of a magnetic nature to wipe out electronics. It wasn’t a super EMP of the type that must have hit the US. His pride and joy was a missile programmed to fly over head and could wipe out every electronic device in individual buildings and hit multiple locations.
It wasn’t his favorite because it was the new type of politically correct weapon in high demand that would minimize collateral damage to our enemies. He didn’t care about that. He was of the opinion to just fry them all, including the flea infested deserts they wallowed in. It was his favorite because the military brass went bonkers over it. They ordered twenty-five thousand units at two million a pop. Talk about a golden parachute. But that was two years ago now. Shortly after retiring, he had purchased five hundred acres and his own little mountain top five miles outside of Tionesta, Pennsylvania. He built a 5,000-square-foot log castle at the peak, overlooking the Allegheny National Forest and the river below. For the first year, he immersed himself in every aspect of construction: from the house to the barns, outbuildings, a vast tunnel network connecting the multiple buildings, windmills, natural gas generators, and solar power units hooked up to a battery bank. The next six months he had gone on an extended shopping spree. Guns, food, survival supplies, and everything he could find to help him when it all came crashing down. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. Working in the industry, Mr. Andrews knew full well how fragile and dependent our country’s infrastructure had become. It was just a matter of time. But time was up, ruining the intermediate plans he had been orchestrating.
The last six months leading up to the attack, he had been just having fun and enjoying his retirement at only fifty years old. He threw lavish parties in town for the local politicians and played poker with them while intentionally losing. He bought expensive cars and drove them around town, periodically stopping into one of the local bars and paying for the entire night’s drinking for its patrons. He donated money to the small town’s various religious organizations and paid for the renovation of the high school’s gymnasium. He was the new local celebrity. His plan was to win the hearts and minds of the townsfolk and run for mayor the following year. The current mayor got on his nerves. He was a mid-sixties man, fat and balding who was too square to be fun. A man of faith and a staunch conservative politically, he would never attend any of his “entertaining” parties. Mr. Andrews had decided to take the man’s job not because of any higher calling, but more out of boredom and he had always liked the feeling of being in charge.
That was in the open. His favorite activity, however, was his weekend endeavors. The local town girls weren’t very interesting to him. They were all old-fashioned farmers and hicks, doe-eyed and looking for love. He was forced to pay expensive limousines to haul high end escorts all the way from Pittsburgh and back. He paid very well and he made sure they earned every ounce of their pay. He had dropped hints to some of his favorite girls that they were always welcome to come and stay on a more permanent basis, but his “unique” tastes must have turned them off for the long-term arrangements he offered. He held out hope that maybe a few of them would risk the long dangerous journey once they grew desperate enough.
That was behind him now, and with the power out and not wanting to risk going into town, he had become officially bored. Two days after the power went out, Charlie, Mike, and Travis had all shown up. They were locals that Mr. Andrews had recruited while rubbing elbows in town. Charlie was a good handyman and fix-it kind of guy. At the same time he had a small drinking problem, probably stemming from his tour in Iraq. With the absence of liquor, that problem would be solved. Mike, a former college lineman and current bouncer at the local hub, was a big six-foot-eight, three-hundred-pound African-American man who looked like he could rip your arms off without effort. He stood out like a sore thumb in the predominately white farming town, but Mr. Andrews had seen him crack skulls on occasion while clearing out bar fights. Once they met in private, in contrast to his imposing size, Mike had turned out to be pretty soft-spoken and friendly. The last was Travis, a Gulf War vet who also happened to be a founding member of the local motorcycle gang. He was a man who knew how to get things and where to “find” things in a pinch. He was also unscrupulous and not burdened with conscience which made him Mr. Andrews’s favorite to lead the other two. Travis was in his fifties and looked like your typical biker with a long grey pony tail and lots of tattoos.
This was Mr. Andrews’s security team. He had scoped them out for months before approaching them. They were all single and none of them had immediate family ties in town. They were given instructions to come over to his place in the event of any major events or tragedies if they wanted to make some money in security. They were also given instructions that if they told anyone or showed up with anyone, they would not be employed. When they arrived, Mr. Andrews had clued them in to what was going on and laid out his rules for the roost. They accepted their duties gladly in trade for room and board and the promise of one hundred thousand dollars each when things returned to normal. If they were seriously injured or risked their life to save his, then they would be paid one million dollars. He already had contracts drawn up and they each signed without even reading through the fine print.
Mr. Andrews knew full well that surviving on your own wasn’t an option. At some point, a large enough group would come and he would be overrun. They would come, not because they had any clue what he actually had hidden away below ground, but because he was rich. They had endured one security test already when an early-sixties pickup truck full of rednecks had knocked on his front door asking for food. When Mr. Andrews had refused to open the door, they tried to ram it with an improvised battering ram. What they didn’t know was the door had been custom made to his exact specifications. On the surface it looked like any other ornate wood door, but it had been designed with a solid steel core and lots of bracing and heavy duty slide locks on the inside. To combat the added weight, it had special ball bearing hinges that would allow the heavy door to open effortlessly. He watched them from a side window for a few minutes, amused with their huffing and puffing.
When one of the men retrieved an ax from the bed of the truck, Mr. Andrews figured it was time to end the charade. He wasn’t afraid of them making it through the door; he just didn’t want his beautiful wood door to get all hacked up. He stepped away from the window and nodded to his three soldiers in their new Multicam uniforms who stepped forward and opened the front windows in unison, releasing a barrage of bullets. Mr. Andrews had purchased twenty Bushmaster AR-15s as his standardized weapon. He had a myriad of other specialized guns but they were for specific purposes. At the first sound of gunfire, two of the men took off at a sprint. One tried to stand his ground and fire back with his deer rifle, but never even got a shot off. His futility delayed the security team long enough for the other two men to get in the truck which immediately sped off down the long drive. They put quite a few holes in the tailgate and blew out the back window, but the two men were able to escape. That had been four days ago.
Mr. Andrews had told himself that he wouldn’t enter town for any reason for the first month, but he was just too curious and too bored to wait any longer. He reached in his pocket and pulled out one of the walkie talkies that he had stored in the faraday cage in the basement. His men were bunked in the loft with a good 360 degree view of the farm. “Travis, come back.”
There were a few moments of silence then, “Yeah, boss?”
“Let the boys know to get suited up first thing tomorrow morning: no uniforms, just everyday clothes. We’re heading into town to see how well the mayor is handling things.”