Kyle Pratt - Through Many Fires

It was dark before Caden returned to the armory and plopped exhausted into his office chair. He rubbed his throbbing leg as he thought of the hundreds of people who left the area, and those who remained. A few stayed because their cars wouldn’t start, others remained because of sick family members either in the town hospital or the field station. The doctor remained behind to treat them and Neil helped fix cars. I’ll keep the blockade in place, but we can use the road now and check out the old coal power plant. Resting his head in his hands he continued to think about all that had transpired when there was a knock at the door. “Come.”

Brooks stepped in holding two cups of coffee. He handed a cup to Caden and sat down. “It’s been a long day, but I think a good one. All the food that we took into town was distributed and, I think, eaten on the spot.”

Caden took a long slow drink. “Yeah, that’s what happened at the refugee camp too. North Road should be clear by tomorrow. Send a squad out to the coal power plant and start looking for people who can operate it. Offer the civilians food, medicine, protection, whatever it takes to get the plant running.”

“Do we have enough food and medicine to be spreading it around?”

“No, but I’ll work on that. You just get the plant running, if it’s possible.”

“I’ll send the men out in the morning.”

The next evening as the sun bent low over the hills west of Hansen, Caden sat at his desk. Dark shadows spread across the room and instinctively he turned the knob of the lamp on his desk. He was surprised by the glow of the lamp. We have power! Good. For a moment he wondered if the men out at the coal plant had it running. Brooks had led a squad out at first light and later in the day brought out several civilians who had worked in the plant, but it was too early for them to have it up and running. He scribbled a reminder to get a progress report on Monday.

He picked up the next paper that required his attention. I had hoped for a slow day yesterday and received it today. He grinned. The tedium of paperwork is a nice change.

There was a knock at the door. “Come,” he called, still reading.

“You’re late for supper.”

Startled at the sound of Maria’s voice, he looked up and grinned at the sight of her leaning against the doorframe holding a basket. “What have you got there?”

“Let’s see,” she said and pulled out a bottle. “Blackberry wine, made right here in town.”

“Nice.”

“I’ve also got bread, butter, cheese and crackers. Now all I need is someone to help me eat them.”

“I think I can assist you with that.” Caden stood and moved toward Maria, but as he did he could see the staff in the outer office. “Let’s find somewhere private.” As they stepped into the hallway, Brooks and Lisa approached. “Let me guess,” Caden whispered to Maria. “This was Lisa’s idea.”

“She might have mentioned it, but I didn’t object.”

“Lieutenant Brooks,” Caden said as they passed, “I’m going to have dinner with this lovely young lady. Keep an eye on things for the next hour or so.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ten minutes later Caden and Maria found an uninhabited storeroom and borrowed an old wooden table and two mismatched chairs from the barracks for their dinner.

The last rays of the sun cast long shadows across the brown crates and green ammo boxes that took up much of the room. Caden started to turn on a light, but then noticed a candle left by the door of the room. “We haven’t had much time alone or much time to talk.” He lit the candle and set it in the middle of the table.

She pulled two wine glasses from the basket. “That is why I thought it would be a good idea to come here.”

“I hope you have a cork screw.”

She handed it to him and he opened the bottle while she buttered the bread.

“I didn’t think there was food left in any store in town. Where did you buy all of this?” Caden asked.

“We didn’t buy it. The stores are empty. Your father traded two guns, some ammo and a bottle of scotch for a cow and calf.”

“He’s been busy today, but I asked how you got the wine, cheese, bread—everything.”

“Lisa and I traded a gallon of milk and two dozen eggs for the wine and cheese. We made the bread and your mom still had crackers.”

“Where are you doing all this trading?”

“You know that park in front of the Hansen library?”

“Sure,” he said pouring the wine.

“Well, people gather there to barter things. Everyone went today, except Sue, she’s still pretty tired, and we traded for things we need and,” she lifted the wine, “a few things we just wanted.”

Caden noticed a small handwritten label that read, “Please return the bottle when done.” He pointed it out to Maria.

“Yeah, the family that makes the wine said they aren’t sure they can get more bottles, so they’re asking people to return them. They’re going to work out some sort of a discount if you do.”

He smiled as she took a sip of wine and stared into her eyes, marveling at how well and quickly she fit into the family and community that he was only now rediscovering. Maybe we can hold civilization together until things get better. He reached out and touched her hand. “Maybe you and I….”

A soldier burst into the room. “Sir, Lieutenant Brooks sent me to find you.” The man took a deep breath. He thought…you should know…President Durant…he’s placed the state under martial law…and…activated the Guard units.”

Caden had little motivation to get out of bed, other than maybe to shoot the rooster. The first rays of morning sun pushed back against the darkness of his bedroom, but he closed his eyes, rolled onto his side and pulled up the blanket. Why not get a few more hours of sleep? No crisis called for his attention this Saturday morning—then he heard the scream.

In an instant he was at the only window of his room. It looked out over the main field of the farm, but he could see little in pre-dawn twilight. He was certain the cry came from outside. Probably from the barn.

He threw on his clothes, grabbed his SIG pistol and hurried downstairs.

His mother stood in the living room, “Trevor and Maria are outside. I think it was Lisa.”

Sue came down the stairs as he ran out the front door. Immediately he spotted his father at the front of the barn and Maria, with a rifle, off to the side. His dad signaled for him to go to the back.

Once there, Caden threw open the rear door, looked left and right and then hurried in. The interior was so dark, he saw almost nothing. Immediately he took cover behind a stack of hay bales to his right and waited an agonizingly long time for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he saw was Maria silhouetted in the open door of a horse stall. With a wave of the arm he signaled her to move and she ducked into the shadows.

Next he saw Lisa. A young man stood behind her. One hand clutched her jacket, the other arm was wrapped around Lisa’s neck like a sleeper hold and so the knife was to the side of her throat. By the position of the knife Caden could tell the assailant was not a trained killer. Beyond those two, near the front of the barn, his father stood in a shooting stance.

Caden tried to maneuver for a clear shoot, but the guy kept turning, using Lisa as a human shield.

“All I want is food! Get me food and I’ll leave!”

“Put the knife down and we’ll get you food,” Trevor said.

“No! I’m not stupid. Get me food or I cut her throat.”

“You cut her throat and I’ll kill you,” Caden replied.

“I’m hungry. All I want is food. The last meal I had was a lousy MRE two days ago. Believe me I’ll kill her.” The man pointed at Trevor with the knife. “You, old man, get me….”