WWIV - Basin of Secrets (11 page)

The heavy man – the supposed family leader – balked at her request. “I didn’t see it firsthand, but my neighbor was there, and when she came home, she was scared out of her wits.”

Cara nodded thoughtfully. “Did you see any of these perpetrators?” A quick shake of his head gave her the answer. “Did you hear any of these shots?”

“No ma’am. But my neighbor lady said she saw heads exploding up on stage with each shot.” The collective group blanched at the description. “Don’t mean to be so blunt, but that’s what she said she saw.”

Cara pondered the situation further. “Did she have any idea who might have done this? Who would be evil enough to do something so awful?”

The man’s wife stepped forward. “It was that man and his gang from the south. The one that Captain Bond routed and chased out into the desert. Those guys with the red handkerchiefs.”

“Willem Tarlisch.” A new voice came from behind the group, causing most to jump. Cara turned, recognizing Steven’s voice right off. “So what is he allegedly up to now?”
 

“Steven,” Cara began, “this is Theodore Hanson and his family. From the Salt Lake Community.” Steven and the eldest man exchanged a handshake. “Mr. Hanson says they and others have fled Salt Lake because this group assassinated the mayor and council.” Her gaze focused on her husband’s unchanging face.

“It’s possible,” Steven stated. “Not likely, but possible.”

“Are you calling me a liar?!” Mr. Hanson shouted. “I was in town when it happened. My neighbor told me everything she and others saw. This man, this Tarlisch fellow, is set on revenge. Word has it he’s planning on hunting down Talbot Bond and his family.”

Steven raised his hands apologetically. “I’m just saying that maybe something happened, but without a firsthand account of the facts, it’s sometimes hard to say just exactly what that something is.” Focusing on Cara, he continued. “Talbot Bond is Willem’s uncle. Rumor has it Talbot killed Willem’s father and brother. But I’ve never heard that from anyone who was there. Far as I know, it’s a myth. The Tarlischs and the Bonds are family. What he says just doesn’t add up.”

Hanson stepped closer, more excited than before. “Erickson, Brushbrow and the whole council are dead. Something happened.”
 

Steven stared back. “And you saw them, dead?”

Hanson backed off. “No,” he replied, sounding less sure of himself.

Steven turned toward the assembly. “Well, something happened down in Salt Lake. And it sounds like it could be serious. I don’t doubt any of what Mr. Hanson has said, but we could use some eyewitness accounts just to be sure. We should be on alert but probably not alarmed.” Moving closer to his wife, his eyes met hers. “But that’s just my opinion. It’s up to the assembly and their leader.” He turned back to Hanson. “They call the shots around here.”

“So, those are my feelings on the subject.” Cara took her seat next to Emily Bradley and noticed her expression of agreement.

Reaching out, Emily patted Cara’s hands. “Well stated, Cara. I couldn’t agree more.” Searching the other faces, they felt outnumbered.

“Chet,” Cara politely asked. “How about you?”

Rocking in his seat, the old man pursed his lips and let his breath out slowly, hissing like a balloon losing air. Finally, his face met the others. “Cara, you are the voice of wisdom,” he began. “And what you say makes some sense.” His wrinkled face hid whatever news he cared to share. “But…” he trailed.

Cara’s heart fell hearing the single word.

“…we can’t go off half-cocked anymore. We don’t have the resources like we used to.”

“But Chet,” Cara protested. “Mr. and Mrs. Hanson have brought us dire news from Salt Lake. I don’t believe we can just toss it aside without some debate.”

His old dry hands rubbed together in front of his face, creating a sound like that of rubbing sandpaper together. “Let’s consider a few former problems, if we will. Four years ago, a group of folks brought us news of all Salt Lake being engulfed in fire. That turned out to be false, of course.”

“They were frightened, Chet. They saw smoke from a forest fire and couldn’t see the basin. It really wasn’t a problem.” Cara scanned each face around the room, confirming what she already knew. Three to two still.

“Then,” Chet chuckled as he recalled another time, “then there was the news that the entire basin was swallowed in a sinkhole. I think almost every camp, including ours, feared for our safety then.” He let his sad eyes settle on Cara. “False rumors, of course.”

“And then last year,” Charlie Watson jumped in as Chet took his seat, “we got taken by that group that told us indians were attacking. They told us several bands from the east had joined and were reclaiming their sacred ground. We spent weeks on edge waiting for an attack that never came, Cara. We looked pretty foolish then.”

“Foolish,” Cara agreed, “but prepared. It’s hard enough to survive out here on our own. When news of trouble reaches us, well, it adds extra unneeded stress.” Cara firmed her resolve and made another run to sway just one more member.

“Carol, you must have some idea that there could be a problem coming at us from Salt Lake. Don’t you?” Cara begged.

Her tired face drooped before she had the strength to gaze back at her waiting friend. “Cara, I want to believe these people. But they didn’t see anything. They didn’t hear anything. They just left because of something the neighbors may have blown out of proportion.” Cara looked away, but Carol dipped her head to catch their leader’s eyes again. “We are so busy getting ready for harvest. And then we’ll be busy drying, and bagging, and storing. We just can’t dedicate any more resources to go find out what might have not happened down there. I would imagine we’ll see more people in the next day or two if something bad went on.” Smiling thinly, she looked at Chet and Charlie. “Until then, I agree with the majority. We wait it out.”

“Three to two against sending men to Salt Lake,” Cara plainly stated. “That is the decision of the assembly?” Three heads nodded; she felt Emily squeeze her hand again. “So be it then. We have decided.” Rising, she nodded curtly at the group. “Thank you all for your time.”
 

Saving her frustration for her alone time, Cara hustled back to her home. She needed to have Steven hear her thoughts. Perhaps he would be able to sway one of the three. Halfway there, she froze misstep.
Steven will say the assembly has spoken,
she thought
. No further discussion.
 

Changing her direction, she focused on the drying racks being let down from the sides of the camp walls. She may as well not waste her time spouting her frustrations to a man that wouldn’t agree, she thought. “I’ll put a smile on my face and move forward with the day,” she resolved to herself out loud. But as she hustled away, she doubted she’d let go of being on the losing side of the debate so easily.

Howard steered the horses around another corner and shot a peek at his companion on the buckboard. Willem was distant, lost in thought. Clearing his throat, he addressed his boss.

“So what’s your plans for those wives of yours anyway? Get them knocked up at the same time or one after another?” he asked.

Tarlisch blanched at his words. “Don’t be so crude, Howard. Those are my women you are speaking of,” he retorted. Glancing at the buildings in the area, Willem leaned back. “Two are too young. Maybe Andy can have his way with them. It’s about the only way he’ll ever have a woman.” Both men chuckled.

Howard shook the reins, spurring the team forward. “So just the older one?” He watched as Willem contemplated his question.

“My heart belongs to another. You of all people know that best, Howard.” Leaning forward he grinned at his old friend. “Suzanne is certainly beautiful enough for me, but that’s not why I took any of them. I wanted to make a point. I needed to have everyone in this community understand that I, and I alone, am in charge here.” He shrugged at Howard. “What better way to get that point across than to take from them one of their most precious commodities?”

Contemplating Willem’s words, Howard nodded ahead. “Here’s the first warehouse. And I see that young Anderson fellow is waiting for us; just as you requested.” Howard focused his attention on the thin, short teen awaiting their arrival. As they drew near, he thought, “Who left this one in charge?”

Inside the faded red brick building, the skylights illuminated the large expanse. The three men strolled amidst large blue barrels the color of the afternoon sky. Kicking at one, Willem looked back at young George Anderson.

“It’s empty,” he stated, sounding as bored as he could. “I’m here to inspect a bunch of empty barrels. Just great.”

George ran back to the third row of containers. Kicking at that one, Willem heard the sound of a dull thud, not the hollow sound the other had just made.
 

“This one’s full,” George called. “About a third of them are still full.”
 

Willem’s eyes scanned the barrels. “Ten rows of 30. Three hundred in total. Maybe 100 are full.” Stepping closer, he watched as George cowered away. “But full of what, young man?”

George grinned. “Why, water of course. What else did you expect to find here?”
 

Willem gasped. “You have a warehouse with 300 drums of water?” He watched as young Anderson grinned.

“No,” he replied. “We have five warehouses around the community with 300 each. You know, there’s a lot of people needing water around Salt Lake.”
 

Folding his hands in front of his face, Willem pressed his lips to his thumbs. “We went without water for days and weeks in the desert. Meanwhile, you’re sitting on as much as 80,000 gallons of water.” He snuck a peek at Howard’s puzzled face. “That seems impossible.”

George was more than willing to provide the details. Every time it rained, they collected water. Every time it snowed, they collected water. When they were bored, they sent teams of horse-drawn wagons to collect water from mountain streams. Salt Lake, it seemed, had plenty of water.

“Every day, every family is allowed two gallons of fresh water,” George continued. “They go to one of the five stations. A checkmark gets placed next to their name. There’s 2,600 family units, so every day we disperse 5,200 gallons of water. Except to these 10 families.” George handed a list to Willem. He and Howard studied it carefully.

“Kane, Cormat, Williamson, Erickson, Brushbrow…” Willem looked up. “The founding families and all the council members.” George nodded. “So, just how do they get water?”

George grinned broadly. “Every week, on Sunday night, a covered wagon takes each of the families a fresh 55-gallon drum.” Tarlisch and Howard stared at one another, open-mouthed and amazed.
 

“The others are limited to two gallons a day,” Howard repeated. “But these 10 families get an unlimited supply?”
 

George chuckled. “Yep, that’s the way it’s always been. For the past four years at least.” He stepped closer to his guests. “And when it rains or snows, no one gets their two gallon allotment. They’re all expected to collect for themselves during those times. We have about 100,000 gallons of clean water at the best of times. That covers about a month for the community. So we spend a lot of time running to the foothills collecting the stuff. Keeps us busy, I guess.”

Willem strolled toward the back of the large open space, followed by the others. Pointing toward the back, he called out for George. “What are all those empty shelves for back there?”

“Food storage,” George replied. “We keep a lot of our dried foods here. Nice and cool and dry year-round. So they keep better.”

Willem stopped and looked back at the pair. “Where’s all the food now?”

“Well,” George began while picking something from his teeth, “almost harvest time. There’ll be plenty starting fairly soon. People are mostly eating out of their gardens right now. Except the 10 on the list, of course.”

Willem stared at Howard, nodding slowly. “Of course. We don’t expect
the 10
to fend for themselves.”
 

From the far end of the building, the sound of shuffling feet against the cool concrete echoed. The group turned to see a single person running their direction.
 

Finally, a voice called out. “Willem,” Andy yelled. He stopped next to the three, hands on knees gasping for air.

Willem stepped closer. “Andy? What’s the rush?”

Looking up, Andy sucked in one last large gulp of air. “There’s a crowd forming outside,” he got out between pants. “Kinda big. Thought you’d want to know.”

Willem’s gaze fell back on George. “Any ideas?”

Glancing at his watch, George nodded. “Almost 10. Time for water dispersal.”

Grinning, Willem started for the large doors in the front of the building. “Perhaps we can help, to show our support you know,” he said to Howard. A quick peek at Howard’s harsh expression told him his second didn’t like the plan.

“Could be a lot of people. Too many for us to control…if they get upset.” As Howard finished, he glanced at the collection of humanity outside. “Looks like 50 or 60, I suppose.” Turning to Willem he lowered his voice. “I suggest we go out the back, safer that way.”

“I don’t think so,” Willem snorted. “Andy, where’s the guard?”

“About two blocks to the north,” the younger cousin replied. “There’s about a dozen or so of us.”

Willem scratched at his chin. “Bring them up behind the crowd, nice and slow though. We don’t want to alarm anyone needlessly.”
 

His eyes focused on the nervous George Anderson. “Time to go meet the people,” Willem whispered.

George swallowed noticeably, unsure of the tactic. Pushing the door open, he nodded back to Willem. “Okay, you’re the boss.”

The crowd of citizens eyed the trio suspiciously. As they moved closer to the warehouse entrance, someone from the middle of the crowd bravely pushed his way forward.

“Who the heck are those two, Anderson?” he called out. “And what are they here for?”

Before George could answer, another man standing close to the front narrowed his gaze on Willem. “That’s Will Tarlisch. That’s who that is.” Looking around for support, the man stepped closer. “What do you have to say for yourself, Tarlisch?” he asked, focused now on Willem.