Glen Tate - 299 Days - The 17th Irregulars

“There goes our problem,” Grant said. “Good luck filing a police report. Take a damned number.” He was relieved. Snelling’s wife, and hopefully Abbott, had gotten the message and left.

Grant slept well that night. He had already gone through the mental process of wondering if the police would arrest him, like he had when he shot the looters back in Olympia. From Rich’s description of the FCorps guy being too busy to care about a report of a POI at Pierce Point, there was no way the cops would even try to come here. What cops?

Grant realized how much better Pierce Point would be without those Loyalist whiners. They were the only people getting in the way of making it a completely Patriot community. There were some of Snelling’s friends still out there, but they probably wouldn’t say much now that their leader was…no longer around.

After a restful sleep, Grant woke and got ready for work. He was anxious to find out how the news of the “break in” and sudden departure of Snelling’s wife and Abbott would be received by the community.

The Team assembled in Mark’s truck and went to the Grange. No one said, “This never gets old” or “beats the shit out of selling insurance.” Not this morning.

The Team Chicks stayed behind. Gideon needed the night cabin to sleep in after his guard shift, so the girls who spent the night in the night cabin with their boyfriends went over to the yellow cabin with the other girls.

Wes was the first to speak on the ride to the Grange. “I’ve been thinking,” he said. “I’m glad I did it. Son of a bitch was trying to get us killed. I’d do it again. I probably will have to.”

This was a relief to everyone. If Wes was OK with what had transpired, then there was no reason they shouldn’t be. And that part about probably having to do it again was important for them to hear. They needed to be mentally prepared for more death and knew this was the first killing of probably many.

Grant said, “You know, I’ve been thinking about Snelling as some kind of tragedy. It isn’t a ‘tragedy.’ The only tragedy is that he was alive in the first place. People like him, those with power, who steal from everyone and then cry about being the victim. We’re doin’ what we have to do, gentlemen. Be proud that you’re steppin’ up. We don’t have to enjoy this. But we have to do it.”

Grant immediately thought of his Grandpa who didn’t want to go to war, but had to. It was Grant’s turn to do nasty things that needed to be done.

The guys nodded. Some smiled. They were stepping up and could be proud about that.

As they pulled into the Grange, they could tell that something was up. The place was abuzz.

“Did you hear? Todd Snelling is dead!” someone yelled.

“His wife and Abbott are gone!” someone else said.

“They were probably having an affair and Abbott shot him,” Rich said. “That happened all the time when I was on the force.” Good one, Rich. Good one.

“She left a note about the Team killing her husband,” another person said.

“Ha!” Dan said. He pointed to the Team and said, “If they wanted someone dead, you’d all know about it. It would be very clear and messy.”

Rich said, “Well, I’ll go out and look at the scene, but a wife and another man fleeing? Pretty sure I’ve seen this before. The wife and Abbott are probably in each other’s arms right now.” Perfect.

The crowd discussed the apparent murder of Snelling by Abbott — or maybe the wife — and their apparent affair.

Grant made arrangements for Snelling to be buried. He talked to Pastor Pete about adding Snelling to the weekly memorial service. Grant felt a little dirty misleading a pastor into thinking he cared about Snelling, but this was war. This was one of the many things he was doing that he didn’t want to.

The rest of the day, Grant worked as usual at the Grange. The Team went out and trained with the Crew at the Richardson House. Things were surprisingly normal. The routine was not disrupted.

At lunch, Lisa sat down next to Grant.

“Pretty shocking about Snelling,” she said.

“Yeah. What have you heard?” Grant asked, which was not a good thing to ask. He worried that he sounded a little defensive.

“I mean his wife killing him and running off with another man,” Lisa said. “Hey, that gives me an idea,” she said with a smile, before biting into her lunch. They ate together, as if discussing Snelling’s death was normal daily chitchat.

Later that day, Grant talked to Rich about renaming the newspaper. “Now that Snelling and his fax machine are no longer a problem, do we really need to change the name?”

“Yes,” Rich said. “I told Winters I was in charge and that it would happen. I want those FCards and that bus, and I don’t want to fight them if I can avoid it.”

“OK,” Grant said. “Changing the name might de-escalate the Patriot thing after Snelling’s murder…at the hands of his wife,” Grant said.

“What should we rename it?” Rich asked.

“How about the ‘ Pierce Point Truth ’?” Grant said. “Same content, different name. The ‘Truth’ is more universal than the ‘Patriot,’ anyway.”

“Sure,” Rich said. “Guess that makes the first and only edition of the ‘Patriot’ a collector’s item.”

“I’ve never, ever been happier,” Kellie gushed to her mom. “He’s so perfect. He’s everything,” she gushed.

Kellie’s mom, Sheila, was so happy for her daughter. Sheila had been worried about Kellie who had seemed so depressed. There was no future for kids anymore. This Crisis, or Collapse, or whatever people called it, meant Kellie would never have it like Sheila did. No college, house, car, or spending money.

Kellie had a boyfriend in Pierce Point, that Ethan kid. Sheila wasn’t impressed by him. He was a typical boy, and Kellie never appeared too interested in him. It seemed more like Kellie wanted to have a boyfriend so she’d have someone to go places with and do things.

Sheila understood why Kellie didn’t seem to take boys too seriously. Kellie’s dad was a drunk and had smacked them both around before he left. Sheila was dreading Kellie discovering boys and bringing home some loser, like her dad.

And then Wes came along. He was a great kid. Well, man. He was on the Team, which the Pierce Point residents took very seriously. He was respected. The Team members were brave young men who protected everyone. They were so polite and always helped people. Sheila remembered the first time she saw Wes. He was helping an older lady carry some heavy bags of rice. It didn’t hurt that Wes was handsome and had that cute Southern drawl. He was perfect for Kellie.

The few times Kellie brought Wes over, Sheila had been very impressed by how much of a gentleman he was. “Yes, ma’am. No ma’am.” Holding the door open. He was the kind of man Sheila wished she had met years ago instead of Kellie’s dad.

What Kellie didn’t tell her mom, because it was obvious and she didn’t need to, was that sex with Wes was amazing.

“You know what he said, Mom?” Kellie was nearly yelling. “He said he wants to get a place with me! He has to get permission from the Team first because they are trying to stay together all the time to deploy or whatever. A place with me!”

Sheila had never seen her daughter so happy. It was like an announcement of an engagement.

Being Wes’s girlfriend made Kellie a “Team Chick,” which held an enormous social status. Those girls were fabulous. They had become her closest friends. Instead of sitting around worrying about all that was happening, they were taking life by the horns and actively doing what they wanted. Being a Team Chick was an adventure.