Seeking Safe Harbor: Suddenly Everything Changed (The Seeking Series) (33 page)

The following day a roving militia patrol came into Fitch. There were twenty eight of them. They had two captives, and three travelers who had decided it was safer to move down the road with armed horsemen as added protection from highwaymen. Everyone was
covered in dust, and the horses looked well ridden, with a layer of sweat and mud covering their flanks and necks.

They rode over to an abandoned warehouse which had been converted into a stable and barracks for the Militia. Several young men came out and led the horses away by their reins, three horses per person.

“Looks like you rode hard this time,” one of the young men commented.

“Yep,” the Sergeant replied, “we sure did.”

“Did you catch any bad guys this time out?”

“Just those two,” was the casual answer.

“Junior, make sure they’re all brushed and fed real good, will you?”

“You got it, Sergeant.” The men walked into the large warehouse entrance and slipped through the door. One by one they all filed in, except the travelers who headed to the fairgrounds to pitch tents for their stay.

Four of the Militiamen led the two captives over toward the Sheriff’s Office for safe keeping in the jail. They shuffled along after leg chains were secured in place and they were handcuffed. The Sheriff was coming down the street in his Patrol car and he pulled alongside, “What do we have here, Ranger?”

The man eyed the Sheriff for a brief moment before speaking. He had a deep voice and it was obvious he was tired when he said, “We caught these two going through some baggage and an abandoned cart about twenty miles outside of town as we were returning from Patrol. They didn’t have a satisfactory answer as to why they were doing the ransacking and they freely admitted the things weren’t their own. We decided to arrest them and let someone else get to the bottom of what they were up to. I don’t know that they did anything wrong,” he shrugged, “but I don’t know they didn’t, either. It’s not our say, it’s going to have to be someone else making that decision.”

Reaching into his pocket, he continued, “we did find these papers on them and I think you and the Admiral will find them interesting. My lips are sealed.”

The Sheriff took the papers and said, “Okay son, have your men take them down to my office and have them locked up. The Deputy there can help you.” With that, he let his foot ease off the brake and slowly took off. He stuffed the papers into the separation between the seat and the backrest of the passenger seat.

Several minutes later, the group arrived at the Jail and Sheriff’s Office and they went inside. Marcy was there at her desk and a Deputy was working on some paperwork. They both looked up as the six men came through the door. Two of the Militia escorted the captives over to a wooden bench, sat them down, and stood on either side of them.

A third Militia man approached the desk, “I was instructed to bring these prisoners to the jail by our Sergeant. We will assist you in taking them to their cells and if you don’t mind, we’d like to take the handcuffs and leg chains with us.”

Marcy smiled and nodded her head. “Will, lock these two up.” Will got up from his desk and walked toward the door which led to the cells.

“This way, men.” The five of them went through the door and three of them returned to the front office about five minutes later.

“What are those two being charged with?” Marcy asked.

“Can’t say, ma’am,” said the one who had originally spoke up. “We were just told to bring them over here and have them locked up.”

“Can you at least give me a name of those two?”

“No ma’am, that’s all we know.” Marcy looked at them for a moment and decided to skip any further questioning. She would get to the bottom of this soon enough.

“Okay boys, thanks.” They all smiled and left.

The Deputy said, “That was kind of strange.”

Marcy replied, “It’s a strange world we live in these days. Nothing will ever be the way it was before the war.
Maybe we need a social so all us law enforcement types can get to know one another better!”

Will chuckled, “Well, I know they’re tired. Looks like they were rode hard and put up wet.”

An hour later the Sheriff came in to his office. As he walked in the door he asked, “Our two new guests make it here safely?”

Marcy cocked her head toward the door and raised a hand and her thumb went up as her fingers made a fist and she rocked it from side to side toward the door to the cells.

The Sheriff looked toward the door and said, “Good.”

He turned and went into his private office and shut the door. He took out the papers he had been given by the Rangers and began to read. He stayed there until he heard Mike Reynolds in the front office.

“Is the Sheriff in?” he could heard through the door.

“You know where to find him,” came the muffled reply.

“Thanks,” he said as he turned the knob on the door, letting himself in, and closing it behind him. Even with hearing it all, he was distracted by the papers he was reading and didn’t look up until Mike cleared his throat.

Waving Mike to a chair, he said, “Please… make yourself at home. Need anything?”

Mike said, “No, sir.” He leaned forward in his chair, “Sheriff, I think we may have a couple of valuable assets locked up in your cells.”

It was the Sheriff’s turn to leaned forward as he said in low voice, “You have no idea, my friend.”

“What do you mean, Bob?”

The Sheriff handed him the papers and said, “Read these.”

Mike leaned back in his chair and began to read. He looked up several times with a questioning look on his face before continuing to read. He eventually looked up and said, “It’s going to have to be verified, of course. And,” he sighed, “it’s going to take some digging. Did I mention it’s going to be a dangerous job.”

The Sheriff was in agreement, “Mike, this sounds pretty serious.”

“It’s so serious that I’m not comfortable talking about it here. What say we go for a ride and I’ll explain?”

They both got up and walked toward the door to the office. “Before we leave,” Mike suggested, “how about you make sure nobody talks to those two prisoners?”

“I guess you’ll explain that later, too?” the Sheriff mentioned.

Mike just raised an eyebrow and the corner of his lips raised.

“You got it, Mike.” He paused and motioned, “Age before beauty.”

“Guess I should go last and first, then!” Mike laughed as he stepped through the door into the outer office.

“Marcy, Will,” the Sheriff addressed them, “Can you please get those two something to eat and drink, and don’t let anyone talk to them or come and see them without my explicit orders, okay?”

“You got it, Sheriff.”

T
HE PATROL CAR
traveled toward the airport and the Sheriff was getting nervous, “Well Mike, what do you think?”

“I think we may have a big problem in Chicago.”

“That’s an understatement. If these papers are true, we’re talking treason on a huge scale”

Mike sighed as he let the breath out of his lungs. He sat there watching things go by out the window until he said with resignation, “If it’s true, and the man who says he is our legitimate President, is not, we’re going to have to do something about it.”

The Sheriff pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. Getting out, he leaned on the hood and lifted his hat long enough to scratch his forehead. “Wow! This is a bit of news. Just what do you propose we do about it?”

“Whatever we do,” Mike’s mind continued to race as he spoke, “we’re going to have to walk a fine line, and we cannot, under any circumstances, let anyone know what we have found out. Our next move should be to find the
Militiamen who originally took them and ensure their lips are sealed.”

“Already done.” he bowed his head and said, “Mike, we’ve weathered a world war, almost everyone on earth has died, and we have struggled to protect and feed ourselves. We’ve lost friends to these senseless battles we’ve had to fight and now this? When does it end?”

Mike looked his friend in the eye and said, “It doesn’t. Not until we die. We just take it moment by moment, and hope to God things come out in the end.” He took a deep breath. “There’s more.”

“More?” The was disbelief in his voice, “For Heaven’s sake, how could there be more?” He paused a moment, “Well, what is it?”

“Well, I only got bits and pieces of it, but those two men you have in your jail were seen parachuting in from a plane yesterday and it’s clear they were trying to get to Wormwood. The new President is somehow aligned with Mr. Avlin Cobb, or Slasher, or whatever the heck that scums calls himself these days.”

“Jesus, Mike. This is bad.”

“You can say that again.” He suddenly straightened up, “But no matter what, we have to make sure those guys never make it to Wormwood and tell their stories.”

“What are we gonna do Mike?”

“The only thing we can do Sheriff, take them out of that cell tonight when everyone is asleep and shoot them in the head. At least that’s what they’ll think we’re gonna do. There’s an abandoned and little-known miner’s cabin a few miles from Avalon that we can stash them at with a few guards we trust until we know more. They may prove useful to us, or we may have trial. In the meantime, I have to come up with an excuse to get myself to Chicago.”

“Mike, what if what we’ve heard isn’t true?”

Mike stared at the ground, taking a full minute before answering, “I’ll interrogate the two we have tonight before we do anything further. I have a few tricks up my sleeve and with any luck, we’ll at least get some answers
we can use. We need to get that paperwork to a safe place, too. We cannot lose it under any circumstances.”

“I’ll see to it; I will guard it with my life.”

Gravel crunched as Mike, The Sheriff and Randy walked toward the Jail. It sounded much louder than it actually was in the cool night air as the men trudged along with grim determination. The Sheriff fumbled with the keys to the office before inserting one into the keyway.

A click sounded as the key was turned and then it clicked again as the Sheriff turned it a second time, engaging the small pistons that completed the sequence. The door opened with a small push and the three men walked toward the cell area.

A small lantern attached to the wall cast a dim light that barely lit the area. It was enough for them to head directly toward the large door that led to the cells. Another key opened that lock and the Sheriff opened it. The hinges squeaked with a high pitch and stopped once the door was fully opened. He looked to the left when he entered and could see the form of the Deputy sound asleep off to one side on a cot. The Sheriff approached the sleeping Deputy and gently shook his shoulder.

The Deputy woke up and the Sheriff said, “Go on home, Jeff. We’ll take over now.”

The Deputy rose from the cot into a sitting position and reached down to put his shoes on. He said, “What’s going on Sheriff?”

The Sheriff put a finger up to his lips and said, “Quiet, I’ll tell you all about it in the morning. Go home now and don’t worry about anything. Keep this to yourself.”

The Deputy had a questioning look come over his face and the Sheriff said, “I promise you, I’ll let you know in the morning. Now, go home and surprise that lovely wife of yours and we’ll take care of things here.”