The Trigger (8 page)

She glanced at the menu, wondering what Sonja would eat. She wasn’t a vegetarian. Maybe a foodie, with high-end tastes. A moment later, she sensed movement and looked up. An attractive, forty-something man was walking toward her. Spencer Clayton. Thank goodness he was physically fit and easy to look at. She had once faked an interest in a chubby, flat-faced drug dealer, and it had been challenging. Dallas gave her new target a bright smile. “Spencer?” She stood and shook his hand. “Sonja Barnes. Thanks for meeting me. I’m very pleased to be here.”

“The pleasure is mine. We love when bright young people want to join our community.” Spencer sat across from her in the booth, and Dallas looked him over. He seemed dressed for golf in a short-sleeve pullover and khaki pants.

No concealed weapon that she could perceive. “How many members do you have?”

“Just thirty-seven. We’ve had hundreds of applicants, but we have high standards for admission. The essay portion disqualifies many, and the psychological evaluation eliminates half of those who come out here for it.”

The psych test was news to her. “What are you screening for?” Dallas laughed. “We’re all a little obsessive about something.”

“Obsession can be a good thing.” Spencer’s tone turned serious. “We’re trying to keep out people with paranoia/conspiracy issues or antisocial attitudes. We’re a close-knit community and personal interaction is essential.”

“Whew!” Dallas joked. “I’m a social media consultant, so I’ve got that under control.”

Spencer grinned. “I knew that. As long as you’re not afraid the government is out to get you, I think you’ll breeze through.”

“Good government is essential, even in small communities. Does Destiny have a council of leaders or some kind of mechanism for democratic decision making?”

“We do. And the council will decide whether to accept you.”

“When do I meet them?”

“Probably this evening. Let’s order lunch, then tour the community this afternoon and see how it goes. You may reject us.” Spencer signaled the food server, and a young man came over. Dallas ordered a specialty salad with pears and candied pecans. She wasn’t crazy about pears, but gourmet chefs loved them, and she wanted to look like someone who had grown up with gourmet food instead of rice and beans.

“Good choice. I’ve had everything on the menu by now, and that’s one of my favorites.” Spencer ordered a patty melt, then sheepishly admitted, “It’s my weakness, but I went for a long run this morning.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not a purist. I love free-range beef.” This was almost too easy. “Do you raise livestock out there?”

“Some. We have a little bit of everything.”

Another food server, a woman about her age, walked by, seeming familiar. After a moment of mental searching, Dallas’ heart skittered.
Holy shit.
Ashley Townsend. They’d gone to high school together in Flagstaff. What the hell was she doing in Redding? More important, would she recognize Dallas with her new hair? Most likely. Not much else about her had changed in ten years. She couldn’t sit here and let her cover get blown.

“Do you mind if we move to the patio? It’s such a nice day.” Dallas grabbed her purse and got up, not willing to take no for an answer.

Spencer looked surprised, but said, “Sure. I’ll let the hostess know.”

Dallas was tempted to make a break for the restroom so she could call McCullen, but she wasn’t willing to cross the restaurant. What could her contact do, anyway? Detain Ashley? Force the owner to close the business because of a security threat? No. She just had to keep her face averted and move things along as quickly as possible.

Outside, she chose a table that wasn’t visible through the windows. Spencer came along a moment later and sat down. “This is a nice idea. I love spring when the weather is perfect.”

“Me too. Although spring in Phoenix comes a little earlier than this.” The bureau had kept her real location because they’d had to move so quickly.

“I don’t know how you live there. I hate the desert.”

“Me too. That’s part of why I’m here now.”

“Why else?”

“I’m tired of living in uncertainty about the future, and I’m tired of grieving. I want a new life.”

“You lost someone?”

Dallas nodded, mustering up a sad expression. “My fiancé. We were together five years, then he killed himself after he developed Huntington’s disease.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Spencer reached over and held her hand. “Destiny is a good place to heal, but it’s also where I hope to spend my last days.”

The handholding irritated her, and she was relieved when their server hustled up with their food. Dallas pulled away and dug in. Ashley was still in the building, only fifty feet away. Dallas wondered again how the woman had ended up in Redding. The sight of Mount Shasta brought it into focus. Ashley was a skier, and Redding was a similar size and geography as Flagstaff. Ashley had probably moved here for the skiing—and better state politics. Had she brought her high school boyfriend along too? Dallas had to get out to the anonymity of the compound as soon as possible.

While they ate, she brought up the news she’d read that morning about a European banking scandal, and they discussed the financial system. She learned that Spencer believed globalization was contributing to the demise of the human race because it accelerated carbon emissions. He was also vehemently opposed to recreational air travel and the “superfluous” burning of jet fuel. Dallas nodded, asked polite questions, and didn’t find anything too laughable.

Fortunately, Spencer didn’t mind chewing while talking, so they finished their meals quickly. Dallas was jumpy to leave before Ashley spotted her. “I’d love to see Destiny. Can we head out?”

He looked at his watch. “I have an errand to run, but I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

After a twenty-five minute drive through scrubby pines dotted with occasional homes and small farms, Dallas found the little community at the end of a narrow private road. Few people would ever stumble upon Destiny by accident.

Before she reached the cul-de-sac, Dallas noticed retractable gates on both sides. Did they close the entry every night? Or was the gate just part of preparing for the apocalypse? It wouldn’t deter anyone on foot, but it would keep most vehicles from advancing. The trees along the road made the gate difficult to drive around… but not impossible. If she needed to escape the community with the gate closed, she would plow right across the last lawn and head through the thicket. The Audi was nice, but still only a rental.

Dallas eased past the gate stubs, noticing narrow side streets that led to a second layer of homes on both sides. She spotted Spencer’s Jeep and parked in front of the largest house at the end. Beyond it were fields and at least one greenhouse she could see. Curiosity made her nerves hum. What else was out there? And where were they keeping Emma and her baby?

Spencer stepped out of the bright yellow house and waved for her to come in. Dallas took a deep breath and jogged up the path. This was the turning point. She was no longer sniffing around the edge of this scenario. Once she entered, she would be committed.

“This is my home,” he explained as they stood in the vaulted living room. “But the annexed building is our data center and meeting room. We also have some informal gatherings here.”

“It’s bright and beautiful.” Dallas didn’t have her eyes on the tall windows or teak floor. She noted instead a small handgun on the foyer table. What was he worried about?

Spencer noticed. “We have to protect our livestock from coyotes and wolves.”

“We
are
out here in the boonies.” She tried to sound casual. “Did you clear the land yourself ?”

“Most of it was already farmland. We tore down an old homestead when we started building.”

“You had quite a vision.”

He beamed, obviously proud of his creation. “I’ll show you the data center, then we’ll walk around.” He glanced down the hall. “I’d introduce you to my wife, but she’s sleeping.”

Spencer started toward a side door, then turned to her, his voice low. “The truth is, my wife is dying. She may only have a few days left.” His expression didn’t change, but his voice held a reverent tone.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. You must be devastated. Is this a bad time for me to be here?”

Spencer touched Dallas’ shoulder, his fingers staying longer than she expected.

“I’ve had a long time to grieve for Lisa, and she’s in a lot of pain. It will be a relief for both of us to move on.” He started across the room again.

“Will you have a service for her here?”

“Of course. And I’ll scatter her ashes in the lavender patch she planted.”

They stepped into the data center, and a young man glanced over his shoulder. Catching sight of her, he popped to his feet. Dallas wasn’t impressed: scraggly hair, sweat pants, and pudgy from lack of exercise.

Spencer gestured. “This is Greg Rafferty, but he likes to be called Raff.”

The techie didn’t offer his hand or make eye contact.
Odd
. Men rarely ignored her
.
And he didn’t look like a prepper. More like a slacker or, in this room, a hacker.

“Sonja Barnes.” She nodded and glanced around. The data center held three main computers, a host of monitors, and a small server. How unusual. Why did a back-to-nature community with fewer than forty people need all that digital capacity? Raff was obviously a cyber geek, but why was he here and what was he up to? She turned to Spencer. “You have satellite internet?”

“Yes, and it’s quite reliable unless we have really bad weather.”

“What about cell phone service?” Questions any other applicant would ask, but the answers might be critical to her ability to relay information.

“It’s intermittent. But some locations, like right outside the community center, seem to be better than others.” Spencer chuckled. “You’ll see members standing there talking on the phone.”

Her personal smart phone would plug right into her laptop and, hopefully, connect to the community modem and satellite internet, so Dallas felt somewhat reassured that she could stay in contact with McCullen. But what if they monitored outgoing calls on the server? She’d be uncovered instantly.
Crap.
She would send emails or use her burner phone in front of the community center unless things got hinky.

She turned back to Raff. “You must be the tech guy.”

“Yep. If you ever need any help with your personal computer, just ask.”

“Since you’re here in Destiny, you must be concerned about the future. What happens when the internet goes down?”

Raff grinned, a man happy to show off his knowledge. “I belong to a group that’s preparing for that. We have a patchwork of landlines in place and people inside the major cable companies that will keep some streams going even if their companies shut down.”

“Good to know. I’m sure that in a post-collapse world, we’ll all be too busy trying to survive to have time for social networking.”

Both men laughed, and Spencer said, “That may be true for a while. But pockets of preppers all over the world will survive, and we’ll need a way to communicate.”

“It’s reassuring to know you’re prepared for everything.” Dallas sort of meant that. She admired their willingness to see an alternative future and prepare for it. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to be here.”

“Great. Let’s go see the rest of the community. Maybe meet a few people.”

The afternoon went quickly. At first they walked around the homes, with Spencer talking about the members who lived in each. Behind the houses, paths crisscrossed the grass, leading to the community center and various storage buildings. She also met Grace, a fatigue-clad engineer who’d built a power station by the creek. Her tight smile didn’t distract Dallas from noticing her physique. Unlike the Clayton brothers, Grace would be a worthy opponent in a physical confrontation.

Eventually, Spencer backed a golf cart out of his garage and said, “Let’s tour the back property in comfort.”

Dallas climbed in. “It’s such a pretty day, I was prepared to walk.”

“I usually do, but I’ve got a lot going on right now and have to get back to it.”

Dallas touched his arm. “Preparations for your wife’s passing?”

“Yes, but that’s only part of it.” Spencer drove down a dirt road leading into the fields behind his house. “We think something major is coming, and we want to be ready.”

A shiver shot up her spine. What were they planning? “It sounds like I came here just in time.” Dallas had to press. “I heard buzz on the internet that the next asteroid could cause climate change if it hits us. Is that what you think it is?”

“Not really. We’re seeing financial activity that indicates the banks are ready to panic.”

The bureau kept abreast of those things, but she hadn’t heard a word. Was he referring to hacker activity? “That’s not good. I’m so glad I’ve been buying gold.”

“Where do you keep it?”

“In a safe deposit box in Phoenix. If I’m accepted here, I can have the trustee transfer it here.”

Spencer patted her leg. “You’ll be accepted. I can tell you’re a good fit for us.”

They drove past barns, storage buildings, and a corn silo, with fields and pastures behind every structure. Spencer kept up a running inventory of everything they had stocked and planted. Corn crops would be processed into biofuel, which they would use to run tractors, chainsaws, and other gas-powered equipment. They also had five hundred gallons of gasoline stored, along with a supply of diesel and propane. Dallas was blown away by the extent of their preparations.

“You said there are other communities like this around the world?”

“I wish.” He shook his head. “Other groups are out there, but none that I know of with this much land or biofuel planted. I believe we also have the only large-capacity hydro-generator. But other futurists are prepared enough to survive.”

Dallas took a risk. “What about a nuclear event or a major ice storm? Don’t serious futurists have underground bunkers too?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment. “We have one planned, but it’s hard to build something big enough for all our members. So it’s politically sensitive.”