Harvesting Ashwood Minnesota 2037 (29 page)

“What do you know about their condition?” In a clean room with all my injuries treated, I thought about David’s possible wounds. “Did they look like they were moving on their own?”

“We have no specifics.” I recognized bureaucratic-speak. “The three were sitting against trees and eating.” He lowered his chin, his eyes made more readable from where I sat. “They wore military camouflage and were chained together.”

They were being fed, they were resting. I stored away the positives. “Thank you. Now, please tell me what’s happening on Ashwood.”

“You’ll have to trust us, General Manager Hartford.” Kapur’s posture became stiff once more. “This is an internal military operation unfortunately involving Ashwood. Chief Engineer Lao is operating under our orders as civilian representative for the estate. None of your family or staff are in danger.”

“I disagree, Lieutenant Kapur.” I managed to stand. “Look at me. Captain Peterson is waging a rogue operation from our offices. He and his troops are willing to endanger civilians.”

He tipped his head. “You have the apologies of our commander. Full restitution will be made when this operation is completed.”

“Lieutenant Kapur, you speak from a sense of military honor, but I don’t think you can begin to calculate full restitution for a little girl who has been traumatized by her father’s absence or for my husband who has spent days in captivity.” I kept my hands quiet, my voice calm. “I assume the U.S. government will offer compensation to repair our property and cover medical care. But how will we restore our children’s trust in this government?”

Members of Kapur’s small squad stood with eyes focused on the wall behind me. They were like a poster of all that was admirable about the marines. “General Manager Hartford, your record is that of exemplary citizen known for supporting the U.S. government through very difficult times. I’m sure you are an excellent parent who will demonstrate the same for your children.”

I guessed he wasn’t a parent. He was early in his career and life experience. I had no quarrel with his loyalties, just the mess he represented.

“Does this operation involve our Giant Pines location?”

“No.” He was back on tactical grounds. “We have a small patrol squad on that site as a precaution.”

“Then I want my entire family evacuated to Giant Pines with generous security for the duration of this military operation. I want them out of here in a half hour and I want to see them leave.” I turned to Paul. “Jack has space at Giant Pines. Do you agree?”

“That’s an excellent idea. And I’d like to be with them,” Paul added.

“Perhaps Dr. Frances has an opinion,” I said.

“It wouldn’t hurt to move the kids,” she responded. “But let them wake up at their normal time. They’ll need to know that you are safe and that they will be safe.”

“Well, Lieutenant Kapur, could you run that proposal to your commander?” He considered, then gestured for one of his troops. I wanted to sit, but not while I negotiated control of our home. Kapur gave quick directions to the chosen man then sent him away.

“Sit.” Dr. Frances touched my arm and gestured toward the chair. “It’s painful to watch you stand on that ankle.” Even the bare wood of a folding chair felt comfortable. Terrell cobbled together an assortment of crates and rugs to elevate my foot, wrapped a cold pack around the worst of the bruising. The doctor spoke to us as our guard watched from across the room. Paul rested on one of the beds, his face pale with fatigue. “Is there a place the children could be kept safe here if Giant Pines isn’t an option?” she asked.

“Ashwood has a safe room,” I said. “There’s one at Giant Pines as well. Phoebe doesn’t do well with our annual twenty-four-hour drills in it.”

“I think you understand your daughter.” Dr. Frances rubbed at her neck. “Terrell, you didn’t say anything about how exciting estate life might be.”

“Seems to me like this kind of excitement happens in a seven-year cycle around here,” he answered. “I got to get upstairs for breakfast prep.” He waved at us. “You and Paul stay out of the coolers. I’ll bring you real food. Get some sleep.”

I leaned my head back, careful to avoid the bump from last night’s fall. “Hard to believe we were all sitting at dinner about twelve hours ago. Is Milan still here?”

She lifted her shoulders. “We stayed at the table with the kids until Lao sent for him. I didn’t see him after that.”

My eyes felt grainy, my head heavy. “It’s generally pretty peaceful here. Believe me.”

“I’m going to repack the medical kit. You should rest. That’s what people do when they have a concussion.”

I watched Dr. Frances reassemble portable monitors and take inventory of used disposable goods. Marines wandered in and out of the cooler. Paul, relaxed under his covers, fell asleep within minutes. I remained sitting.

“You didn’t take all those meds, did you?” Her question carried no reprimand. “Your medical record shows no pharmaceuticals beyond vitamins, so I’ll warn you that if you kept the anti-anxiety pill, don’t take it unless you’re ready to sleep.”

“If I hadn’t taken a sleeping aid that night, things might be different. I’ll sleep when I know all my kids and our home are safe.”

Dr. Frances shrugged, snapped a last packet shut. “We’re all survivors, General Manager. We may have different ways to stay ahead of the flood.” She pulled one bag over her shoulder. “I’m here to help keep your family and its members intact. Terrell, who is one of your staunchest friends, was clear about that goal when we negotiated this arrangement.” Her eyes surveyed the storage unit. “We’ll get the rest of these things upstairs later. I’ll tell all your children that you’re banged up but will be fine.”

After she left, I sat in the chair with my head leaning against a wall, too tense to really relax and too uncomfortable to walk off that tension. Almost two hours had passed since our escape. Military action was taking place on our estate and I was out of the information chain. Would our laborers be able to work in the fields, our kids have breakfast and go to school. The small details were less stressful than wondering if armed vehicles filled the courtyard or the awful possibility of innocent people being caught in this action.

Lieutenant Kapur returned to the cooler, appeared surprised to find me awake. “I know I’m supposed to be asleep in that other bed, but you can understand why I’m eager to go upstairs. Could we speak?”

He moved like a warrior, smoothly and quickly. “We should hear back soon.”

“I’m asking for access to watch the estate monitors, not engage in communications. If you don’t want me to feel like a prisoner in my home, then I need to see what’s happening.” He seemed unmoved by my request. “Corporal, I want to see my kids.”

Kapur’s runner returned. “The family evacuation request will be honored, sir.” Neither looked my way.

“I hope that gives you some peace of mind, General Manager Hartford. I am needed outside. Corporals Smith and Rodriquez will remain on watch here.” He prepared to leave. Briefly his eyes and voice gentled. “I trust you will be reunited in time to tuck your children into bed tonight.” Nodding to Smith and Rodriquez, they stepped outside the room, closed the door.

I thought he was too optimistic. Paul remained asleep. I unlocked the security system cabinet and adjusted the screens to survey what could be seen of early morning. As images changed, I saw military transports parked among estate vehicles in an attempt to maintain a low profile. I watched Magda walking the outdoor vegetable garden acres with her partner, arms thrown open in broad gestures across the plants ready for harvest. Sarah appeared alone in the front sitting area, head bent. On another screen, Terrell directed house workers through a routine breakfast prep. Phoebe, dressed for the day, wandered into the kitchen as the screen changed.

I turned away, remembering the early days of the first pandemic when teachers and students were told to stay home. Watching twenty-four-hour news coverage obsessed me. Film of empty grocery stores and parks implied something menacing, still I watched. Ashwood’s security screens went blank. Lost between memories and the present, I startled.

I pulled at the door handle to check with our guards about the system failure. At first the handle refused to move. I worked it hard. The tumblers moved, the handle slid, and the door opened. Paul’s breathing hitched into a snoring sound.

Cautiously I hobbled out, unsure how the guards would respond. In the hall, lights flickered, turned to weak yellow as I looked past empty chairs. Weak yellow dimmed to a glow just a shade brighter than a child’s nightlight. I knew the power grid drill, began counting to forty-five while returning to my father-in-law.

“Paul, wake up.” I shook his shoulder. A great shuddery sound came from his mouth. My count passed thirty. Our emergency generator system would target this room for early power restoration. “Paul, please wake up.”

“Where are we?” His voice told of decades of interrupted sleep for all the reasons a family and farm might throw into the dark of night. “Annie, are you okay?”

“Something is happening to the power grid. We need to find the kids.”

He pushed himself upright, appearing refreshed on an hour of sleep. “I’m coming with you. Let’s take our marines.”

“The guards are gone.” The large storage room began to shrink as darkness filled its corners.

“How long have the lights been down?” He stood, stretched his back, crunching and cracking exaggerated in the hard-surfaced room.

“Over sixty seconds.” My eyes adjusted to the near dark. “There’s some power holding in the system, or the generators should have kicked into operation.” I took his hand, led him toward the door. “On the other hand, the security screens blanked out.”

“Did the kids leave for Giant Pines?”

“I saw Phoebe in the kitchen before the system shut down.”

Fully awakened with this news, he shook off my hand and moved ahead. “I can be upstairs faster than you with that ankle. Is your wristband working?”

I held up my arm so he could see the lit inactive button. “Do you think Kapur was trying to keep us safe or quiet?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter now, Annie.” Paul stepped into the hall first. “I think the marine’s plan went off-kilter. I’m going upstairs and will send someone to help you. It might be time to send you and the kids to the safe room.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The hitch of Paul’s left foot from an arthritic kneecap, the flat-footed way his shoes hit the floor didn’t slow him as he scurried away. Even with a cane and sense of urgency I moved at only a fraction of my normal speed. Somehow a grandfather a few days shy of turning seventy managed two steps at a time up the stairs. I climbed like a toddler having to step with both feet on each tread.

Long before I reached the top step, I heard John questioning Paul, and Phoebe shushing Noah. Terrell said “safe room” in the distance, stopping my advance. I waited on the seventh step from the top, one finger to my lips, ready to greet my children. John ran down first, his face a montage of surprise, joy, fear, and discipline. He almost stumbled, his arms held open while obeying my sealed lips. Andrew came next, one hand holding Noah’s.  Terrell followed, a hand extended back to Phoebe. He didn’t smile, just pointed down the stairs. I carefully turned and led the group, obediently silent, back toward the food storage room, then through a cooler, hoping Terrell would call all clear. I worked the unique lock and opened our safe room, waiting for a reprieve.

The children tumbled past me into the sixteen-by-sixteen secure space. “You, too, Annie,” Terrell directed. “Lao was clear you got to be safe, too.”

I turned away from the children, kept my voice low. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“All our systems went off grid about five minutes before Captain Peterson launched crazy stuff at the residence.” Terrell began to turn away. “Too much to talk about right now. Lao’s taking no chances with these kids and you.”

Noah held on to my left hand, fear draining his face of color. “What about Grandpa Paul and Grandma Sarah?”

“They’ll be fine, Noah.” Terrell began to ease out of the room. “I got to get back. You stay here until we give the all clear. Who has the communications band?”

Andrew held up his wrist.  “Looks like we’ve got one that works,” I said. I grabbed at Terrell’s shirt. “You’ve got to tell me something.”

“If we knew, I’d tell you. We got the day started as normal as possible and sent most of the house kids out to help in the gardens. But when the power grid got funny, the commander ordered the family into safety. Put laborers and workers on buses and got them out of here. Paul and Sarah stayed. Couldn’t get them to move.”

He loosened my hand, gave me a hug. “I think they pulled the alarm too fast, but nobody wants anything to happen to you all.” He bowed his head. “Andrew and Phoebe, help your mother. She’s not in the best shape. Now I’m getting out of here and you close the door. I promise good eats when you get back upstairs.”

I wanted him to stay with us, or at least give us one of his slow winks. But all I saw was his back as he sprinted through the cooler space. The door closed, air kicked in and lights glowed.

Phoebe threw herself against my chest, against the butterfly sutures holding my torn flesh together and the surrounding swelling. “Easy, sweetie,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ve got a nasty bruise right about there.” I kept one arm looped over her shoulders. “We’ll be okay.”