299 Days IX: The Restoration (27 page)

“Thanks, guys,” Grant said, “I appreciate it.” He added, “I’m very well armed so I can handle anything, unless of course, I can’t and that’s when you guys jump on in.”

“Roger that, sir,” the senior agent said as he and the younger agent took up positions in the Meconni’s parking lot.

Grant got into the driver’s seat and put the keys in the ignition. At exactly 2:00 p.m., a man came walking up to the parking lot. Grant rolled down the window to the unmarked State Patrol car.

“Hey, Jason, need a date?”

The man looked stunned and then recognized that it was Grant.

“Get in,” Grant said as he unlocked the passenger door.

The man got in.

“Okay,” Jason Wallace said, “to what do I owe the pleasure of this unusual rendezvous?”

“I need a favor, warden.”

Grant proceeded to make his request.

“I dunno,” Jason said after hearing it. “This is super illegal.”

“Oh,” Grant said. “I know. Not only is it illegal, but it destroys my credibility and the Governor’s – if I get caught.”

“You won’t get caught,” Jason said as he sat up straight, “I have total control over everything that happens at the old Olympia High School prison.” He was proud of that fact and he was going to prove it by doing Grant that favor. That hugely illegal and politically destructive favor. Because it was something Jason had wanted to do for a long time.

“Thanks, Jason,” Grant said. “I owe you, man.”

“No, you don’t,” Jason said, “Pardoning my cousin repaid me in full.”

“I would have recommended his pardon anyway, Jason.”

“I know,” Jason said, “but it makes it easier for me to justify what I’m about to do.”

Grant smiled.

He remembered the speech he gave at the Delphi Road overpass when they caught that teenage kid texting their position to the Limas. Instead of shooting the little bastard, like they were perfectly entitled to do, Grant told the 17th and the Delphi guards, “Reconciliation starts today,” and then he proceeded to merely hammer and tag the kid.

Well, Grant admitted to himself, given what he did today, reconciliation starts tomorrow. He was taking this day off from reconciliation and letting revenge have just one day. He owed it to all those poor souls under the Clover Park football field.

Chapter 328

New What?

(February 1)

“Vehicle approaching,” the CB radio said in the Forks City Hall, where Steve Briggs was sitting around talking to some other guys about how to fix a broken water heater.

“Lots of them approaching,” the scared voice on the CB said. Steve and the others grabbed their rifles and headed to the city gate.

Steve was terrified. Two pickup trucks with armed men and a small military fuel truck were parked right outside the city gate. It was probably a gang fuel run to supply Port Angeles that got lost. They’d fight to death to protect that treasure in their fuel truck. Then a larger bunch of that gang would come looking for what happened to their treasure and kill everyone in Forks. This was the exact nightmare scenario the Forks guards had been talking about for months and now it was coming true.

A military looking man got out of the first pick-up. Maybe this was a gang of AWOL soldiers, Steve thought. The military man put his arms out like he was hugging everyone. Great, they were high.

The man was smiling. Another man got out with a yellow Gadsen flag, but it had an evergreen tree on it. What?

“Welcome to New Washington,” the man exclaimed.

New what?

Steve went up to the man, wanting to get these stoned AWOL gangbangers back on the road and the hell away from Forks.

“Can I help you find where you’re going?” Steve yelled.

“I’m where I’m going,” the man said with another huge smile. “I’m in Forks. And you’re in New Washington.”

What was this “New Washington” thing? Oh wait, Steve thought. Don Watson, the Forks ham radio guy, had said that the state, except for Seattle, was calling itself that. Steve hadn’t really paid attention to that. Politics from the outside world didn’t matter in Forks, which had been forgotten by the outside world.

Pretty soon, more men got out of the trucks and came walking up to the gate with their arms out. They seemed really happy about something.

The flag. Doc Watson’s ham radio reports about the Patriots taking over most of the state. Now it was starting to make sense.

The Patriots won? It took Steve a few seconds to process that.

“What the hell is ‘New Washington’?” Steve yelled back. He thought he knew, but wanted to make sure.

“The new state you live in,” the military man replied. “The Patriots won. We have the whole state, except Seattle. You’re free and we have gasoline and a medic.”

A warm wave went over Steve. Gas and a medic. Freedom. A new state. Patriots won. Gas and a medic.

The Forks guards started to jump up and down and whoop and holler. The realization was hitting people at different speeds and they reacted at different intervals.

Pretty soon, it was a full-on party at the gate. People were hugging the soldiers, asking about news from New Washington—which sounded so weird to say. “New Washington.” It would take some getting used to, but thank God the Patriots won.

Steve spent the next two days distributing the gas and arranging for medical treatments. He made sure the soldiers radioed their base with a list of additional needed supplies. Pretty soon, another convoy arrived with blankets, some antibiotics (but not enough), biscuit mix, and a precious, precious item: a newspaper.
The Olympia Patriot
, it was called. A new newspaper. Independent. It actually seemed believable, what all the stories were saying. The internet was still spotty and the Limas hacked Patriot sites to put in Lima propaganda so, amazingly, actual hard copy newspapers were getting the real news out.

Steve devoured the paper. He read every single word in it. He almost fell over when he saw a long story about Grant Matson. Grant was a war hero and heading some Reconciliation Commission. Thank God he was okay, Steve thought. As Steve read the story, he got goose bumps. All those things about Grant’s past that Steve knew about seemed to have been planned long ago. The miracle of getting the cabin and of knowing that Special Forces guy who trained them. All those weird things in Grant’s life, Steve could now see, had been planned and allowed Grant to do what he’d done.

“Here for a reason,” Steve said out loud. That’s what Steve always told Grant when Grant was down. “You’re here for a reason, dude,” Steve would say, and as it turned out, Steve was right.

Steve went on to become the mayor of Forks. He refused to take a salary. He was living just fine on fish and deer, although he was glad to see that first semi of food come to Forks about two weeks after the first soldiers arrived. A few weeks after that, someone from Steve’s old company showed up and started to take orders for car parts. Many vehicles were not running and now, with a little gas being available, people wanted to drive again. Boy, did they want to drive again. And now Forks could sell timber again because that was a “critical industry” under the new laws, which meant that they cut the red tape to get it moving. People had jobs again in Forks. It was a miracle.

The Collapse had changed Forks. It had brought them together as a town. They had fed each other and saved each other’s’ lives. The churches stayed strong. So many people had experienced tragedies and miracles and there was only one explanation to many people. Thanksgiving would never again be about overeating and watching football. Thanksgiving was real in Forks now. It was about giving thanks. Everyone who lived through the Collapse in Forks knew why they should be thankful.

Later, when Steve got to Olympia to visit Grant, he couldn’t believe how much that place had really changed. For the better. He and Grant had a grand old time, telling stories about their upbringing and the Collapse and all the “coincidences” in their lives. “Here for a reason,” they would both say time after time.

Chapter 329

Remembered for a Hundred Years

(February 2)

Warden Jason Wallace walked onto the second floor of the old Olympia High School prison.

“I need to speak with Eric Benson,” he told the guard.

“Yes, sir,” the guard said.

The warden was let into the classroom housing Eric.

“You’re dismissed,” he said to the guard. The guard left.

“We need to talk,” the warden said to Eric.

“Whatever,” Eric said. He was still stunned that the Patriots were holding him as a prisoner when his only crime was working too hard to help them. He could not understand why they didn’t give him a medal for killing so many Limas.

“You know who Grant Matson is?” Jason asked him.

“Yes,” Eric said. “He’s the guy who isn’t giving me a pardon.”

“Grant asked me give you a message,” Jason said. Eric was silent. He could care less what Grant Matson had to say. “Don’t you want to know what he said?” Jason asked.

“Okay,” Eric said sarcastically, “What did he say?”

Jason whispered, “Nice work at the carwash.”

Eric smiled and briefly relived the thrill of killing Bart Sellerman. He could see the blood and the sudsy carwash foam on the cement when he was done with Sellarman.

“He wanted to ask you a favor,” Jason said. “And I know you’re gonna love doing it.”

Eric’s curiosity was piqued. “Yes?” he said.

Jason told him the plan.

“I’m in,” said Eric. “Let’s go.”

“Okay” Jason said as he took a knife wrapped in cloth out of his suit jacket.

“How do you know you can trust me?” Eric asked.

“Because you asked that question,” Jason said. “If you were going to kill me, you’d enjoy it more by surprising me.”

“Excellent point,” Eric said with a laugh.

“Besides,” Jason said, “you want to be a Patriot hero. I’m giving you the chance, and if you kill me, you won’t be a hero. You want to be a hero, don’t you, Eric?”

Eric nodded like a child.

“Remembered for a hundred years as a man who did a great, great thing?”

Eric nodded again and let out a slight guttural sound.

“Okay,” Jason said, “make it good.”

Eric, feeling like a giddy child, gave Jason the thumbs up.

Jason handed Eric the knife, careful not to touch it so his fingerprints wouldn’t get on it. The only fingerprints on it would be Eric’s.

“Oh God!” Jason screamed. “He’s got a knife! Help! Guards!”

The guard came running to the door but was afraid to open it.

“Open that door or I kill him!” Eric screamed. He felt a rush of pleasure just screaming those words. He felt alive again, like he hadn’t felt in months. He was going to get to kill someone. And not just anyone.

The guard unlocked the door and watched in horror as Eric held the knife up to Jason’s throat and slowly walked out of his classroom cell.

Eric took Jason down the hall. By now, several guards stood petrified, unable to believe that a prisoner had taken the warden hostage. When he came to classroom 210, Eric screamed, “Open the door!”

The guards were still frozen.

“Open the damned door!” Jason screamed.

A guard slowly came up and opened the door. The prisoner in room 210 started to scream, too.

A second or two later, the screams turned to shrieks of agony, shock, and slaughter. The shrieks got quieter and quieter as the slashing sounds got louder and louder. Eric was started to cry out with pleasure and Jason cried out in horror.

And Nancy Ringman lay dead.

Chapter 330

Smiley Faces

(February 3)

Grant and the Team were in Mark’s truck, driving to Yakima. He was in the back cab with Pow, as usual. Pow was checking his kit to make sure he had everything. He looked stunned. He had everything all right; he had something he forgot he had.

He looked sheepishly at Grant and said, “Oh, dude, I totally forgot I had this,” as he handed Grant the letter from Lisa.

Grant looked at it in disbelief. “How long?” he started to ask.

“Like, two weeks,” Pow said. “Oh, I’m super sorry, bro. Super sorry. Things got crazy. That Tillimook at the rest stop, going on R&R, all the stuff that’s going on. I put in it my kit so I wouldn’t lose it, then I forgot. I’m sorry, Grant.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Grant said, politely. Because it really
was
his fault that Grant had lived two weeks or so without knowing what Lisa really thought.

“If it’s bad news,” Grant said to Pow, “then thanks for two weeks of me not worrying.”

“But if it’s good news?” Pow asked.

“Then I hate you,” Grant said with a slight smile. He had far more important things on his mind now than being mad at Pow. The future of his marriage was in that envelope. He could see it going either way.