Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“They’re probably shoveling it down now that they’ve heard the news about the bug out, but they have only you to blame for that.”

“I’m sure they appreciate the food anyway, Del,” said Connor, ignoring the underlying barb.

A small man knocked timidly on the door and waited for eye contact from the group before letting himself into the room. He was wearing black-framed glasses under thick brown eyebrows. His gaze was a question mark, deeply inquisitive and highly penetrating. John McLeod and Connor MacMillen both knew that the overall intelligence in the room increased several fold by the man’s presence—he gave off that aura.

“Commander?”

“Dr. O’Reilly. It’s good to see you. I want you to meet some new friends of mine.”

The doctor walked to the side of the table opposite Connor and John and gave each of them a cursory, but intense once-over. He turned to Del Re. “What’s going on, commander? I was told you needed to see me for some emergency?”

“Yeah—I guess we’re on emergency footing here, doc. This is Colonel Connor MacMillen and Major John McLeod. Gentlemen, this is Doctor Danny O’Reilly.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” said the doctor, shaking hands with each of them. His attentive look was one of concern and curiosity.

“Yeah, doc, it’s nice to meet you, too.”

“Doc,” said Del Re, “they’re representatives of the President of the United States.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So, the chain of government has survived the Sickness?”

“Yep.”

“Doc,” interrupted Connor, “we’re a little pressed for time, so I’ll make this quick.” He grinned while he reached into his backpack and removed a large Ziploc bag of Gobstoppers. There was about a pound and a half of the colorful candy in a quart-sized bag and he tossed it to Dr. O’Reilly. The doctor caught the candy, surprised by its weight, and lifted the bag to his eyes, staring at its contents. “I’m told you like candy, doc. Is that right?”

The doctor fingered the contents through the plastic without speaking. He opened it and, after careful deliberation, he selected a green one. He popped it into his mouth and rolled the jawbreaker around, never removing his gaze from the three men. His look was priceless.

“They’re yours, doc. I have men who need your dental expertise—they have some teeth that are giving ’em some problems.” The doctor didn’t respond—he simply continued his inquisitive stare. “We need you to get started, doc. There’s a shitstorm coming this way and we don’t want to be around for it when it gets here.”

“Okay, colonel. How’d you find these Gobstoppers?”

“I was told they were your favorite.”

“They are, colonel, but I haven’t seen one for at least three years. How’d you find them?”

“Blind shithouse luck, doc. I meant it when I said they’re yours. I have about a half dozen guys that need your attention though. And very quickly. When you’re done, make sure you pack up your tools and head for safety.”

“I understand. But—“

“Listen, doc, if you wanna keep talking, give ’em back. We have an extremely tight timeline.” Connor held out his hand for the baggie’s return. Instead, the doctor opened the bag and removed another Gobstopper, a blue one this time.

He raised his hand. “Give me a moment, colonel.” He studied the color in the light and popped it into his mouth. He rolled it around in his mouth as he had the first one before nodding. “Very edible, colonel. A slight bit degraded, but that’s to be expected. I’m at your service, sir.”

“Good,” said Connor. “I’m glad to hear it. John, take Dr. O’Reilly to Daubney and the others who need dental treatment. You know our timeline, so get it done as soon as possible.”

“Sure, Mac.”

“Del, I want John to fill the doc in on the details of the oncoming onslaught. Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Excellent. John, take care of it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Del, you and I need to wrap up before we make this place a ghost town.”

“I’m listening.”

“Good. I have a few questions. Del, do you know anything about Mark Harmon? He lives at Nemacolin up on the mountain.”

“You mean General Harmon?”

“General? Yeah, I guess I’m talkin’ about General Harmon. Is he still alive?”

“Yeah—at least, I think he is. He’s partial to our ale and has a standing order for as many cases as we’re willing to give him. I’ve traded with him for the past four years.”

“He’s alive? You’re sure?”

“It’s been almost six months since I’ve seen him, but I think I would’ve heard if something happened to him.”

“And Nemacolin remains intact?”

“I haven’t heard any different. Why, Mac? What’s up?”

“I got some business up there on the mountain. I was hoping Mark—General Harmon—was still around after all these years.”

“Yeah, he’s still around. He likes to think of himself as a bigwig.”

“I see.” Connor laughed.

“Yeah, but I guess there’s some truth to it. He’s set the place up nicely. Every weekend, it’s an open market there. Everyone likes to go there ’cause he doesn’t charge anyone anything to set up a booth for trade.”

“But the place is defensible?”

“It’s probably the best you’d find for hundreds of miles. He’s got his own army and he’s pretty picky about who he takes in. A lot of the guys here thought they’d be better off there, but he didn’t take ’em all—only the ones he wanted. The rest of ’em came back.”

“How big’s his army?”

“Are you thinking he could help us here?”

“No. Not now—there’s no time.”

“Even if there was time, I’m not sure he’d help.”

“You don’t think so?” asked Connor.

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t say that. I don’t know for sure, but every time I go there, I have the distinct impression the only reason I’m allowed in is because I’m delivering a load of ale.”

“Hmm.”

“You know, he’s got a sweet setup at the Summit Toll Gate, too. He’s got permanent garrisons, one there and one in Addison. Each is on Route 40 and he’s protecting the mountaintop. You know where I’m talking about? Addison, Maryland?”

“Yeah, I do,” answered Connor, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He leaned toward the commander and lowered his voice. “Do you happen to know if any MacMillens are living up on the mountain?”

Del Re studied Connor’s expression and shook his head. “Not that I recall, Mac. I’m guessing that’s where your family is.”

“I dunno, Del.”

“I could ask around, Mac. There’s some people here who visit Nemacolin on a more regular basis.”

“There’s no time for that, Del. Let’s concentrate on getting you guys into your hide-out.” He paused for a second. “Del, do you have any explosives?”

“It’s funny you should mention that.”

“Wow, you have some? That’s great! We’re gonna throw these bastards a little surprise party and try to keep them funneled and moving straight through as best we can. Though, it does mean causing some of our own damage in town, but at least we can control it.”

“I see where you’re heading, Mac. Whatever happens to this place can be fixed. It’s the people I can’t afford to lose.”

“I like your attitude, Del.”

“Hey, Andy. How are you, my friend?” asked Brad. He stood at the entrance steps to the Caddyshack Restaurant of the Nemacolin Resort anticipating the arrival of the MacMillen men. Several armed guards at the top of the stairs near the doors observed with casual interest.