Kyle Pratt - Through Many Fires

“I care for you too. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

She wiped her eyes and nodded.

After passing through the blockade they paused while one man jumped out and Michaels took over driving the pickup.

A few minutes later, as they passed a narrow two-lane country road, Caden pointed. “That’s the way to the Westmore farm.” His heart went down the narrow road, but he kept the car headed into town. “Hansen is three miles farther down the highway.”

Moments later as they passed over a culvert where a creek ran under the road, Maria pointed at two red-headed teens, a boy and a girl, fishing along the bank.

“I’ve fished in that stream many times,” Caden said. “There, up ahead is the Hansen city limit sign.”

Maria looked around. Farm fields spread out from either side of the street to the hills in the distance. Ahead there was a motel, gas station and convenience store, but no other buildings. “City? What city?”

“Hansen isn’t a city in the sense of Atlanta, but it is the county seat and,” he smiled, “it has a number of multi-story buildings.”

“Where?”

“Patience is a virtue. We will be downtown in less than five minutes.”

“Downtown? Five minutes?” she repeated incredulously.

Caden turned at the corner. Children and adults mingled in the parking lot of the motel, but the gas station and convenience store on his right were closed. Glass is still in the windows and they don’t appear burned. No looting? That’s a good sign. After they passed a line of trees, a school came into view. Children ran about the playground.

Everything looks normal. He scanned both sides of the street. Homes on the other side of the road were intact and looked lived in. No, something is different. The town looked tired and run down. Piles of garbage bags lined the street in front of nice middle class homes. Some of the trash was carried on the breeze.

As they continued the houses gave way to squat gray and brown shops, stores and office buildings of two and three stories. Many of the windows were boarded up and, like Olympia, the shops were mostly closed. Caden was grateful that the looting and burning seemed to have followed the freeway and not made its way here .

As they passed a five-story building he said, “Welcome to downtown Hansen.”

“Where’s the sheriff’s office?” Maria asked.

“Just up ahead, across from the court house.” A moment later a large parking lot came into view. Caden had driven there several times before moving away. No cars in the lot and no cars on the road.

Michaels pulled into the lot.

Caden followed and parked beside him. Stepping from the car he asked, “Where is everyone?”

Michaels shrugged. “Most are home. There is nothing in the stores to buy so there’s no work. The grocery store got its last shipment the day of the Seattle explosion. Now the shelves are bare.”

“I’ll get Adam,” Maria said. “You guys go ahead.”

As the two walked toward the sheriff’s office Caden said, “So there was panic buying?”

“Yeah, there was crazy buying from the day of the D.C. blast. Some shops tried to ration supplies, but it didn’t work. Gas, food and medicine were in short supply almost from the start and then quickly disappeared. After the essentials were gone people bought everything else. It was insane.”

“But there was no looting?”

“Some. Outsiders mostly, but….”

He didn’t press for details.

Stepping through the door Caden saw a young deputy.

Chair tilted back against the wall he read a book. Looking up, the deputy’s eyes locked on Caden and he popped to attention.

Michaels stepped forward and said, “Relax Doug, it’s just me and, well, look who we found. This is Caden Westmore.”

“Trevor’s son? Nice to meet you. Your father did a lot for this community after the D.C. attack. He got the blockade set up and organized the guards.”

“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be hearing all about it soon, but right now we’re here to talk to the sheriff.”

Maria stepped through the door and Caden introduced her.

“Just go on in,” the deputy pointed ahead.

Looking at the metal detector he said, “I have a metal belt buckle.” And a pocket knife.

“The town has been having brown outs this morning so I’ve left it off. Just go in.”

After being buzzed through another locked door, they reached a part of the office that he had seen only once before.

“Sheriff Hoover, this is Caden Westmore.”

Hoover? Caden groaned inwardly.

“Caden?” The sheriff turned as he said the name. As their eyes met he said, “A lot of people thought you were dead. I’ll bet your mother was glad to see you.”

Other than the gray that speckled his short black hair and just a bit more weight, the man before him was that same person he had known as a deputy. “I haven’t seen my mom yet. I came here first.”

“Well, I guess I should feel honored.” Without moving closer he looked Caden up and down. “I thought you got out of the army.”

“I’m in the Washington National Guard actually, and I’m here on orders from Governor Monroe.”

The sheriff’s face grew dark. “Oh. What does he want?”

“I’m to assume command of the Hansen armory and the governor wants me to act as a liaison to county leaders and local farmers.”

The sheriff walked across the room and stood before him. “Liaison? Has martial law been declared?”

Caden recalled Becky’s assertion that the whole nation would soon be under martial law and simply said, “Not yet.”

Hoover shook his head. “I’ve been here trying to protect these people for weeks while you’ve been who knows where. Now you want to march into Hansen in your army suit and take command.”

“I don’t want any such thing.”

“But, if martial law is declared in this county, you will be the senior officer here.”

“That hasn’t happened yet and I hope it doesn’t. Look, I’m not taking command of anything but the armory. Everything else we can discuss later. Right now I want to get home and see my Mother and Father.”

“What?” Hoover said in a surprised voice. “Michaels didn’t you tell him?”

Michaels looked at his feet. “There never seemed to be a good time to tell him.”

“What?” Caden asked.

“There never is a good time.” Hoover sighed. “I don’t know the details, but…your father is missing.”

“Missing?”

“He drove up the North Road on the morning of the Seattle blast. He was going to your brother’s place, but he hasn’t come back.”

“Peter? Sue?” Caden recalled details from the disaster map in the capitol briefing room. He was certain his brother’s home was outside the blast line, but the fire and radiation zones were larger. “The Seattle blast was six days ago.” Once again he tried to remember exactly where his brother lived. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”

Hoover nodded.

As they walked from the office Maria said, “Take the baby. I’m driving.”

Caden looked her in the eye and didn’t argue.

In the car, several minutes went by in silence as they backtracked their way out of town. Caden shifted in his seat. He glanced at the speedometer, sighed, and tried to will himself home. “Growing up I just wanted to get away. First college, next the military and then a job in D.C. Now all I want to do is get home. There’s Hops Road. Turn.”

“Okay. I remember.”

Farm fields and pastures spread out in all directions with just a couple of houses visible.

“Where’s your family’s home?”

“You can’t see it from here. Turn there ahead; see that dirt road up on the left.”