Dark Coup (9 page)

“Point,” Ben said and looked at Mallory.

“They’ve been model guests,” she said.  “They were even broadcasting well before the radar picked them up.”

“This is your base, Major,” Ben said, making sure to use Mallory’s title.  “At this point, I’m an uninvited guest myself.  I’m glad I made a difference, but if nothing else I would suggest getting those thirty Black Hawks off the freeway.  They reminded me of Battleship Row in 1941 on the way in.”

…

 “And who is this,” Mallory asked.

“This would be former First Lieutenant Curt Mathis,” Ben said.  “He’s been stripped of his rank and command until a summary court-martial can be held.”

Mallory raised her eyebrows at this.

“I know you didn’t have any commissioned officers who were licensed to practice law in Tennessee,” Ben said.  “Do you since the promotions?”

“Unfortunately not,” she said.  “We may have to hold this off for some time.”

“Or, I can accuse him of treason and just shoot him right here,” Ben said and unsnapped the loop of his holster.

Mallory put a hand on his arm.  “Not worth the nightmares, Major,” she said.  “Trust me.”

Ben still had his hand on the butt of his pistol and Mallory could feel the tense muscles of his upper arm.  Ben was angrier about Mathis than he was letting his face show.

“Maybe,” Ben finally said and secured his holster.  “We’re still going to have a nice long chat Mathis.”

Mathis just looked at both Ben and Mallory.

…

“What’s going on with him,” Mallory said after they left her brand new brig.

“He’s my mole,” Ben said.  “I was fairly sure he was communicating with someone since just before I was down here last time and decided to keep my own council instead of telling the Colonel off.  I also decided to keep an eye on him instead of grabbing him right away.”

Ben rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head.  “Something he said a couple of days before the raid, right after the MPs grabbed him has been bothering me, though.”  Ben said.  “I remember that I asked him why and what the Colonel was holding over him.  He looked at me and said “You know
nothing,
” with, I don’t know, some superior look in his eyes.  His whole bearing changed for a minute there when he said that and it’s been bothering me ever since.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Mallory said.

Chapter Nine

The afternoon after Ben arrived, Mallory put together a meeting to discuss some plans that Chuck had been working on for Redemption, Promised Land, and any other new towns that might crop up or, as Chuck saw it,  that they might just start on their own.

The low-level hum and din of ever-present activity around base came in through the unshuttered windows.

“First of all,” Mallory said, as she began introductions, “I wanted to include Major Franklin now that he’s here since some of what we discuss will most likely impact him and his people.”

Mallory nodded to Chuck.  “Ben,” she said, “This is Chuck Turner.  Don’t call him Charles or Mister.”

Chuck held out his hand at the introduction.  “I’m not as picky about it since I got married,” Chuck said.

“Chuck got back last night from checking something out for us,” Mallory said.  “I’d like him to be in on this meeting as he’s basically taken on the role of civil engineer for both the base and the town.  You met Joel yesterday.”

Joel nodded to Ben and everyone sat down.

“Joel,” Mallory said, “why don’t you start us off?”

“What we’re doing isn’t going to work long term,” Joel said.

“How so,” Mallory said.

“Basically, we’ve been going along for a year,” Joel said, “operating pretty much like we were before the power went out.  We’ve made a few modifications but not nearly enough.  We quit looking for new ways to do things six weeks into this crisis.  Everybody says things have changed but nobody is
acting
like it.”

“Ok,” Mallory said.  “I guess I can see your point.”

“So,” Joel said, “things need to actually change around here, on base and in Redemption.  We can’t keep growing like we have been, and I don’t just mean doubling in size like we just did–no offense.”

Ben raised his hands in a ‘none taken’ gesture.

“For instance, we need to rethink the communal eating idea,” Joel said.  “It took a little bit of work to get things situated for the folks in isolation, but once they had what they needed, they’re actually more efficient cooking for themselves in their own homes.”

“We also need to look at different types of construction,” Chuck added.  “This last winter was proof that the homes we’re used to living in just aren’t designed to be used without electricity, natural gas and central air conditioning, and heating.  Until we have a reliable source of power, we need to construct shelters that can use coal for heat in the winters, and possibly for cooking as well.”

“Ok,” Mallory said.  “I assume you aren’t just complaining and have some solutions to these problems.”

“Some,” Chuck said.

“I started out by asking myself, what is it that every town is going to need,” Chuck said.  “I’ve boiled it down to four things; a reliable source of water, food, skilled labor, and a way to defend itself.  You can add to that if you want, but you really can’t take anything away or the town can’t survive.”

Mallory nodded and Chuck went on.

“First of all, we’ve been relying on surface water up to this point,” Chuck said, “but if we can drive wells and build pumps, even hand-pumps, we’ll open up a huge area for resettlement.”

Chuck glanced at his notes.  “Second, food,” he said.  “I admit I don’t know much about farming but I’ve been talking to the groups we sent out to work the farms and the ranch.  We’re working well together so far, but I think that could be expanded and enhanced.  From what I’ve been able to gather, there’s no reason we couldn’t be producing a surplus right now.”

“I’m going to skip skilled labor for a minute,” Chuck said, “because it’s actually a pretty substantial category.  Next is defense, which can be handled in a couple of ways, and it kind of depends on how you, the military, want to handle it.”

“Go on,” Mallory said.

“Is the military going to continue to be structured like it is now,” Chuck asked, “or is it going to become, as we’ve discussed, more of a militia?  If it’s going to stay centralized, and keep the structure that it has now, then initially, defense is going to be up to each individual town.”

“We can’t answer that right now,” Mallory said, looking at Ben.  “We just don’t know.  With Olsen still out there, we can’t commit to anything other than maintaining the heightened state of awareness and security within our own sphere of influence.”

“We weren’t necessarily expecting an answer right now,” Joel said, “but it’s something to consider.  The other thing to consider is that by keeping everyone massed in one spot, we’re creating a target that eventually the Colonel may find it too hard to resist.”

“Last is the skilled labor,” Chuck said.  “That includes everything from craftspeople to doctors, beekeepers to masons.  Obviously, no town at this point could realistically have all the skilled trades it needs, so trade between towns will be critical.  Towns will most likely need to be close enough to travel between within a day, probably on foot for the time being, which would also aid in mutual defense.”

“Either way,” Joel said, “it’s a switch from how we’re doing it here, because this is just not sustainable.”

“Because of that, towns will have to start specializing,” Chuck said.  “Ben, you brought a lot of heavy equipment with you, and not just the military variety.  You also have a lot of experienced tradesmen to back that up.  Potentially, it would make a lot of sense to have a town of engineers, maybe, or one that at least was more industrial than agrarian.”

Joel snickered.  “Kind of puts a whole new spin on ‘military-industrial complex’, doesn’t it,” he said.

“Nice,” Mallory said as she shook her head.  “How long have you been waiting to say that?”

“I just came up with it,” Joel said, “honest.  This is the first time I’m hearing some of this.”

“Another thing I’m looking for,” Chuck added, “which I mentioned before, is new building techniques.  We could probably go back to log cabins, but those are really very labor
and
resource intensive and I’m not sure we have enough of the right trees anymore anyway.”

“What, Joel,” Mallory asked.  “You look like you want to say something but don’t know how.”

“Well,” Joel said.  “How many sandbags do we have?”

Mallory furrowed her brow.  “Why,” she asked.

“Have you ever heard of sandbag, or dirtbag, construction,” Joel asked.

“Not outside of a retaining wall or flood prevention, no,” Mallory said.

Joel outlined the process, to the best of his limited knowledge, in a couple of minutes.

“How come you never brought this up before,” Mallory asked.

Chuck didn’t pester, but was wondering the same thing, since they’d already had this specific conversation a number of times.

“I don’t know,” Joel said.  “It just didn’t seem like it would work or be worth the effort.  I guess now it’s to the point that I’m willing to try anything.”

Mallory gave him a skeptical look, but didn’t push it.

…

“Any idea how many sandbags it’s going to take to build one of these houses,” Chuck asked as they walked away from the meeting with Ben and Mallory.

“None whatsoever,” Joel said.

“Well,” Chuck said, “depending on the size of the house, it could be between fifteen and forty-thousand.”

Joel stared at Chuck.  “Seriously,” he said.  “That’s…I don’t…do we even have that many?”

“You heard Mallory, she doesn’t know off the top of her head, and I certainly have no idea,” Chuck said.  “Now, to be fair, those calculations are based on being completely above-ground.  I didn’t factor in building partially below-grade–sorry, underground.  That could cut the number almost in half but we would need to figure out how to weatherproof the interior walls.”

Joel bit his lip.  “Any idea if anyone knows how to make stucco,” Joel asked.  “Or if we even have the raw materials?”

Chuck shrugged.  “I don’t know, but I’ll start asking around,” he said.

…

“Bekah looks awful happy this morning,” Dan Clark said to his wife after they had dropped the girls off with the group that walked the five-and-a-half miles to the elementary school at the Natchez Trace Recreation Lodge.  Once the quarantine had expanded to the town, and both Bekah and Jessie had already been exposed, they started going to school every day again.

“She is,” Marissa said.  “The Kid Crockett’s are going out after school today.  It’s the first time they’ve been able to hunt since the quarantine started, and she’s been looking forward to it all week.”

“Our own little Calamity Jane,” Dan laughed.  “And how are
you
doing, really,” Dan asked.

Marissa squeezed Dan’s hand.  “I’m coping,” she said.  “Physically, I’m actually pretty good I guess.  Nobody is asking me to do too much, and everyone seems to understand my limits…so that’s not an issue.”  She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear to cover her pause, and then went on.  “The quarantine up in camp is bringing up a lot of emotions I thought I was mostly over.  Talking about Danny’s death with the Pastor helps, but…I guess I just didn’t realize how much I had bottled up and locked away in there.”

When their youngest son had died from a runaway fever and cough at the age of eighteen-months, a little less than a year ago, Marissa had refused to deal with the loss.  Instead, she had isolated herself from the pain and grief because she’d felt she had no choice if she wanted to protect the rest of her family as their neighborhood slowly crumbled around them.  She stopped and turned to Dan in the middle of the roadway, and a couple of people had to go around them.  “I’m sorry, Dan,” she said.  “I’m sorry I made you go through that all by yourself.  It was cruel and selfish and…”

Dan reached out and touched her lips with his finger and then pulled her into his arms.  “And now it’s in the past,” he said. 

Marissa nodded and swallowed, and leaned into Dan for a few more seconds.

…

June 13, 2013 - Several miles South of Natchez Trace State Park, Tennessee

“Remind me again why we’re walking,” Kyle said to Eric after two days of hiking cross-country.

“Kyle,” Eric said, “do
not
make me hogtie you and radio back to the base to come get you once I’ve vacated the area.”

Kyle sighed.

“We couldn’t even use mountain bikes over this terrain right now,” Eric said.  “And somehow, amazingly, we didn’t have a single motorcycle in either Promised Land or Redemption.”

Kyle shook his head.  “Even if there had been a few we couldn’t have taken two,” he said.  “I couldn’t have done that.”

“And I wouldn’t have let us,” Eric said.  “And a truck, at this point, would just draw attention or make us easier to find.  Neither of those is a good thing.  Plus, eventually we would run out of gas and we’d be walking anyway.”

Eric checked his map against the GPS and his compass.  When he was packing, he’d come across the portable solar chargers that he and Karen had bought at the truck-stop convenience store on the way out of town the second day after the power went out. They had picked them up in hopes that they would come in handy for recharging small electronics at some point.

Finding them brought the pain of losing her front and center again.  He was constantly running across things that reminded him of her.  It was a large part of why he felt he had to leave in the first place.

The chargers also reminded him that he had a half-dozen or so Apps on his smart phone that might come in handy when he and Kyle took off–like the digital compass, a second GPS, yet another flashlight, an alarm clock, and at least a dozen military and survival-related e-books.  He’d recharged his phone, and suggested Kyle do the same thing, using the camp power the day before they left. From now on he would keep it charged with the solar chargers.

Eric pointed a bit to the south-south-east, “Another mile or so and we can set up camp for a while, I think.”