Read Betrayal: Society Lost, Volume Two Online
Authors: Steven Bird
“Rise and shine,” Leina heard a man’s voice say as she opened her eyes and felt the room begin to spin.
“What…huh?” she murmured as she tried to focus.
“It’s okay,” the man said. “It’s me, Chief Peronne. Did my men take good care of you last night?”
“I don’t…I don’t really remember. I…I don’t remember much of anything. It’s all a blur. The kids, where are the kids?” she said as the fog in her mind began to clear.
Taking a seat next to her on the cot, he placed his hand on hers and said, “They’re safe and sound, but we still haven’t found the assailant that killed one of our townspeople. We’ve had reports from residents that he’s inside our town’s perimeter. With that in mind, we feel it prudent to keep the kids on lockdown at the clinic. We have several of our officers on scene there twenty-four hours a day, so they will be safe.”
“Can’t your men there just bring them here?” she asked, feeling panic begin to set in. “I need to see my children. They need me. You can’t keep them away from me like this.”
“Ma’am. Like I said, we’re making every effort to ensure the safety and the well-being of the children. Hopefully, we’ll come to a resolution soon in our attempts to capture the perpetrator. That has to be our first priority, though. If we take our officers away from the clinic to escort the children, and then something happens at the clinic, well, you can see where that just wouldn’t be in the town’s best interests. The feeling of security is a fragile thing these days. To be honest, making sure nothing happens to anyone inside our borders isn’t just about the safety and well-being of the individuals involved; it’s about the psyche of everyone else. Our people feel safe here. They’ve all been through hell, though. Before we got a grip on things, that is. That feeling of security would be lost if anything happens inside of our safe zone. So, I don’t mean to sound rude, but it’s not just about the safety of you and your children. It’s about the peace of mind of our citizens as well. We can’t let anything at all happen that would compromise the security that our residents feel.”
Piecing his words together in her mind, she asked, “Town? You have a functioning town?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chief Perrone replied. “We have a clinic. We have a community garden. We have a school for the children. We have—ˮ
“You have a school?” she interrupted.
“Why, yes. Well, it’s more of a one-room school like in the old days. A few of the teachers from the elementary school, from before the attacks, have remained in town and do a pretty good job keeping our kids up to speed in their studies. We will need to expand things in the long run, but for now, it works just fine.”
“So you’re the chief of police here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied confidently.
“Have you always been the chief? You know, since before?”
“I’ve been with the Fort Sumner Police Department since before it all began.”
“As the chief?” she quickly asked again.
“Well, before the attacks and the fighting started, I was a lieutenant. A few months into the collapse, the previous chief was killed in the line of duty, and I was next in the chain of succession.”
Pausing for a moment to digest what he said, she then asked, “Is the mayor still in town?”
“No, he didn’t make it either.”
“What happened to him?”
“A lot of bad things happened. I can’t document them all for you right now. The mayor was merely one of many who got caught up in the ensuing violence of it all.”
“So, who is in charge? Ultimately, that is, for the town?”
With a perturbed look on his face, Chief Peronne stood up and replied, “I am.” Looking at his watch, he said, “Well, I hope you feel better today than you did yesterday. You have sure been through a lot. I’ve got to get going. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask the officer who’s just outside the door.”
“Am I confined here?” she asked inquisitively.
“Confined? No. But we are on lockdown pending the apprehension of the assailant. Like I said, we take security very seriously here. So for now, it would be best if you just stay put where we can keep you safe.”
Turning to leave the room, Chief Peronne paused and turned back to Leina, saying in a calm and reassuring voice, “I know this is a lot to take in. I know you lost some of your friends back there, and you’re still worried about the kids. Anyone would be full of worry and doubt in this situation. But trust me, you’re safe, the kids are safe, and it’s all going to be just fine from here on out. This is a real, functioning town full of wonderful people. Once we catch the murderer, you’ll be reunited with the children, and you’ll start to see that for yourself. We’ve been through a lot too, just like you. We’ve lost a lot of our own, including the mayor, as I mentioned, to the violence of this world outside our gates. That’s why we take situations like this so seriously. We’ve learned the hard way that in order to ensure the safety of our residents, we have to take immediate action and not relent until each and every security situation is resolved. It won’t be much longer, I promise. But you have to respect that.”
Answering only with a nod and a look of understanding, Leina watched as Chief Peronne turned and left the room, pulling the door shut and locking it once again from the outside.
Slipping into a position of cover on the northwest edge of town, Jessie watched as the sun disappeared over the horizon, casting the shadow of the coming night over the town of Fort Sumner. Nestled behind the post of an advertising billboard on a small hill surrounded by wild brush, Jessie peered through his scope, being careful not to allow the sun’s final rays to reflect directly off his lens.
Only a few more minutes of useful light,
he thought.
Spence should have stolen me a night-vision scope if he was gonna go through the hassle,
he thought to himself with a chuckle as he fondly thought of his friends Spence, Jӧrgen and the others he had left behind.
Returning his thoughts to the task at hand, Jessie scanned the town looking for signs of movement. Seeing the back door of a small, one-story ranch-style home open halfway, Jessie paused his scan and focused on the movement. Seeing a young woman’s head appear from the doorway, seeming to scan the area as if she was looking for potential threats, he observed as she slipped from the door, hurrying across the back yard of the home with what appeared to him to be a laundry basket full of freshly folded clothes. As she reached the neighboring house, its back door seemed to be opened from within as the young woman hurried inside.
“Everyone sure seems to be on edge around here,” he whispered to himself, turning his attentions elsewhere.
Seeing one of the camo-painted SUV’s slowly work its way down the street from the east to the west, Jessie noticed as it stopped periodically at each intersecting side street. As the failing light of the sun finally gave way to darkness, Jessie sat his rifle aside and continued to watch the vehicle as it now began using an A-pillar mounted spotlight to scan its surroundings, slowing working its way through town.
Looking up at the clear night sky, Jessie reassessed his position in relation to the bright moonlight being cast down upon him. Being in the shadow of the billboard above, he thought,
I’m still good here.
Chuckling under his breath as he gazed up at the billboard above, Jessie couldn’t help but laugh at the picture of a cow trying to talk fast-food patrons into eating chicken instead of beef.
That’s what did us in,
he thought.
Everyone was okay with whatever was going on in the country and in the world as long as it was someone else’s rights being trampled, and not theirs. The problem with that flawed logic is, the attention will eventually be on you, and then there will no one else willing to help, either. We were the cows and the chickens. If only our proverbial cows and chickens could have understood the strength they would have had if they would have simply stood together, and didn’t just watch silently as the others were being taken off to slaughter by the farmer.
~~~~
After several hours of still calm, interrupted intermittently by the passing of a patrolling vehicle in the town below, Jessie watched as a vehicle approached a home on the north edge of town. Unlike before, this time, the men in the vehicle, all dressed and equipped the same as the others, exited the SUV and moved to form a perimeter around the home as two of the men approached the front of the house. Spotlights from the vehicle illuminated the area, allowing Jessie to see.
Unable to hear what was going on due to the distance to the home, Jessie carefully watched and observed, taking special note of the behavior and mannerisms of the men.
They move like a well-trained unit,
he thought, noting their textbook movements and procedures.
After repeated attempts to get the occupants of the house to answer the door, Jessie watched as the men kicked the door from its hinges, quickly entering the home, weapons drawn, one aiming high and one aiming low. After a few moments, the men who had forcefully entered the home reemerged, one carrying what appeared to be a young woman, kicking and screaming, while the other beat back an elderly man with the butt of his rifle, finally taking the man to the ground.
Forcing the young woman into the vehicle, the men sped away, turning east toward the direction from which they came. The elderly man, now lying motionless on the ground in front of the home, was quickly retrieved by several other occupants of the home, and taken inside.
“What the hell?” Jessie mumbled to himself, unable to know for sure what had just taken place before his very eyes.
~~~~
Remaining silently in position for what felt like several more hours, Jessie checked the time on his watch and looked up at the moon in the sky.
It’s almost three in the morning,
Jessie thought.
I’d better fall back, get back to Eli, and get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.
As he lowered his head and turned to look back toward Fort Sumner below, Jessie caught movement out of the corner of his eye off to his left flank. Quickly picking up his rifle, he focused as best he could with what little light he had. Rotating the rifle at an angle, avoiding the scope, he looked through the forty-five-degree offset iron sights mounted on his rifle in an attempt to once again catch movement in his peripheral vision while being ready to engage a threat.
There!
he thought as he saw the form of a man moving past his left flank, heading in a direction away from the town and into the darkness. Quickly realizing that where there is one, there is likely more, Jessie felt that his position had been most certainly compromised. Undoubtedly, there would be another threat ahead of him, as well as off to his right flank, and given enough time for them to get into position, he would be boxed in from behind as well.
Not tonight, boys,
he thought as he slipped away from the billboard, moving as low and stealthily as he could, falling back, away from the town.
Working his way through the dry, arid landscape, attempting to use the natural lay of the terrain to hide in the shadows of the moonlight as best he could, Jessie heard movement from the darkness ahead as a voice quietly said, “Drop your weapon.”
Without taking another step, his rifle already trained on the source of the sound, Jessie saw a figure emerge from the shadows before him. A man in his early thirties, dressed in the same law enforcement style tactical gear as the others he had seen, held aim on him with an M4-style patrol carbine pointed directly at his chest.
“I said drop your weapon,” the man once again quietly insisted.
In a calm and steady voice, Jessie replied, “This rifle has a two-and-a-half-pound match-grade competition trigger. I’m already applying about a pound or a pound and a half of force. If you shoot, or if one of your buddies hiding off in the darkness shoots, the slightest twitch of my body as it takes the bullet will send a .308 round into your chest. At this close range, that vest won’t do anything for you,” Jessie said, referring to the man’s protective vest worn underneath his load-bearing web-gear. “You don’t have the position of authority here, son. You think you’re giving me an order, but to me, you’re simply offering to trade me one of your puny little 5.56 rounds for my .308. I’ll take that trade. Are you willing to accept my counter-offer?”
Looking around nervously, the man said, “Look, just lower your rifle and I’ll just walk away.”
With a chuckle, Jessie replied, “I’m not new to the art of negotiating at gunpoint. I’ve been doing it for years. I’m also not ignorant of the manual of arms in regards to your little rifle there. You’re a rookie, aren’t you?” Jessie asked in a dismissive tone.
“What?” the man nervously asked.
“If you so much as twitch, I’ll smoke you,” Jessie said. “Keep your thumb exactly where it is. You see, only a rookie would have brought his M4 to bear with the safety engaged. Before you are able to click that off with your thumb, I’ll have added that one extra pound of force I need to this trigger and the most that fancy ballistic vest will do for you at this range is to catch my bullet as it comes out of your back. It may do a good job of containing the splatter, but that’s about it.”
With a look of fear in the man’s eyes, Jessie continued. “Now that we’re both clear on exactly where we stand, call your friends out and tell them to drop their weapons.”
“I can’t do that,” the man said.
“Then I guess our trade is on,” Jessie replied in a calm and callous voice.
“N…no,” the man stammered. “I’m alone.”
“Bull,” Jessie replied insistently. “They wouldn’t have sent you out here alone. Now call them out or I’ll call them out with the crack of my rifle as it smokes you.”
“I’m alone. I swear. Okay, okay, I’m putting my rifle down,” the man said as his finger came off the trigger and he slowly and carefully removed the weapon’s sling from around his neck and lowered it to the ground.
Motioning with the barrel of his rifle, Jessie then said, “Now the nine millimeter. Drop it, too.”
Complying with Jessie’s demands, the man took a few steps back from the pistol as Jessie snarled, “I didn’t tell you to move.”
Jessie then began slowly working his way forward, and through gritted teeth, said, “I said call them out.”
“Sir, I told you. I’m alone.”
“Bull…” Jessie said. “I hate a liar.”
Seeing the rage in Jessie’s eyes, the man pleaded, “I swear, I’m telling you the truth. I came out here alone. I was just…” and before he could finish, the man was interrupted by the sight of the butt of Jessie’s AR10 rifle, sending him into a world of total darkness.