Glen Tate - 299 Days - The 17th Irregulars

“Yeah,” Manda said. “Kinda.” She had taken driver’s education class and had her learner’s permit just when the Collapse hit.

“I can drive, sir,” Jordan said. He’d had his license for a while before the Collapse.

Grant realized what an opportunity he had. “OK, Jordan, could you drive me to the gate and then drive Manda home?” Trusting Jordan with his daughter and his car. That was a bonding experience.

“You bet,” Jordan said. He felt like a man today. Grant handed Jordan the keys. Grant could feel the symbolism in that.

Jordan drove Grant and Manda to the gate. To give Jordan the full measure of respect, Grant volunteered to ride in the backseat and let Manda sit up front with Jordan where they felt like grownups.

Jordan wasn’t a perfect driver, but he did OK. It was the first time he’d driven in months. The guards didn’t recognize the Tacura and a few of them slowly shouldered their weapons, but didn’t aim at the car, as they drove up. Jordan felt like a million dollars driving a car, with his girlfriend at his side and Judge Matson sitting in the back seat.

Jordan slowly brought the car to a halt and then put his hands out the window to show the guards that he was unarmed. That was a good idea so Manda did the same. Grant was impressed that Jordan thought of this. That showed some judgment.

“I’ll take care of this,” Grant said as he got out of the car. All the guards recognized him and lowered their weapons.

“How’s it goin’, gentlemen?” Grant asked them. “Hey, is Dan around?”

Someone ran to get Dan. While they were waiting, Jordan and Manda got out of the car. Jordan knew a few of the guards and was talking with them. They knew his older brother, Jeremy, who was a guard, but working the night shift. Jordan was introducing them to Manda.

Dan came up and said, “Hey, Grant, nice to see you. What’s going on?”

Grant pulled Dan over by the car so no one else could hear.

“Dan, I need to ask you a favor,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Sure,” Dan said. “What can I do for you?”

“My daughter’s serious boyfriend,” Grant said pointing toward them, “Jordan Sparks—Jeremy Sparks’ younger brother—said he wants to join the ‘rental team.’”

Dan rolled his eyes. Young men and their dreams of military glory, he thought. He’d seen it too many times.

“Well,” Grant continued, “I’m not too keen on that, so I needed to make him a deal to make sure they didn’t elope or some other crazy shit.”

Dan nodded. His kids were grown up but he remembered worrying about crazy eloping, too.

“So I told him I would ask you to give him a try out for the gate guards,” Grant said.

“How old is he?” Dan asked.

“Seventeen in a couple of days,” Grant answered.

Dan slowly nodded. “Does he know guns?”

“Yep,” Grant said. “I went out shooting with him today; .22s. He did fine. He’s been hunting since he was little.”

“Judgment?” Dan asked. “Does he seem mature?” The last thing they needed was another Ethan out there.

“Yep,” Grant said. “I trust him with my daughter.”

“That tells me everything I need to know,” Dan said. He furrowed his brow and said, “You know, he’s a little younger than I’d like so I’m giving him preferential treatment by letting him try out.”

“Understood and appreciated,” Grant said. “You can create a junior varsity for him if you want. Your call.”

“OK,” Dan said. “Young Mister Sparks gets a try out. No guarantees, though, that he makes the guard, even if it’s the JV squad.”

“Also understood,” Grant said. “Thanks, man,” he said as he shook Dan’s hand.

“No problem,” Dan said. They walked back over to where everyone else was. Dan was talking to Jordan and making arrangements with him for a try out. Jordan and Manda were thrilled.

Grant saw Al and went over to him, as he had been meaning to talk to him for some time. He wanted to see if any walk-ons were coming by, which he should have done earlier, but he was so tied up with things at Marion Farm.

“Hey, Al, how’s it going’?” Grant asked. They shook hands.

“Pretty good,” Al said. “What brings you here?”

“Needed to talk to Dan about a try out for a young man,” Grant said. “So, how are things going with immigrations?”

“Good,” Al said with pride. He knew he had been doing a great job at the hard, and often unrecognized, task of screening people wanting to come in. He was glad that people like Grant recognized the importance of the job.

“How many new people recently?” Grant asked Al.

“Four,” Al said. He looked at this clipboard. “A family of four. The dad is an Army medic who’s AWOL. The mom is a mom with two little kids, who are adorable. They’re Mormon, so a Mormon family here took them in.”

“How did they get out here?” Grant asked. If they were Mormon, they presumably had lots of contacts who would take them in. This made Grant curious why they chose Pierce Point.

“They’re from Utah, believe it or not,” Al said with a smile. “He was at Ft. Lewis and said things were too hairy there for him and his family so they left. They came out to some Mormon family in Frederickson, but that family was gone from their home. Just vanished. He said things were getting pretty rough in town, especially for Mormons. People in town were saying that the Mormons had food stored up, so the medic and his family left and were heading here to meet up with the Mintons here, when their car broke down.”

“An Army medic, huh?” Grant said, trying to hide his obvious joy at this find. “When did they get here?”

“About two days ago,” Al said. Grant realized he should have been on top of this. He was slacking. He needed to step up his game. There was a war going on. Important things were happening, and at a quickening pace. Grant needed to treat his Pierce Point job more seriously. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

“Where are they now?” Grant asked. Al told him where the Mintons lived.

“I left a note for you up at the Grange,” Al said. Grant hadn’t had time to read it. That made him wonder how many other important Pierce Point matters had been slipping through the cracks.

Al lowered his voice and said, “This medic guy, Nick Folsom, would be great for the rental team. A no-brainer.”

“Al, I have been too busy to tend to this properly,” Grant said. “But that’s going to change. When you get a perfect,” Grant looked around to make sure no one was listening, “rental team candidate, have Dan get me on the radio. I need to come down here and meet them. I can take care of the hand-off to the rental team, personally.”

Al nodded. “We spend most of our time turning people away; probably a hundred so far. They don’t have skills. We spend a lot of time interviewing them. We try to detect BS stories, like this one guy who claimed he was a machinist. We got a guy here who is a real machinist and could tell in five seconds that this other guy was making it up. One other guy claimed he was a dentist. He didn’t know what a ‘molar’ was when I asked him.”

Al looked out at the gate and said, “The hardest part is the kids. Families will come here with little kids. We have to turn them away. We feed them and give them water to take with them. We treated one little girl’s dislocated arm and then we sent them on their way.”

“Are people showing up hungry?” Grant asked.

“Kind of,” Al said. “Not starving. Hungry, maybe in the sense that they haven’t eaten in a day or two, but that’s pretty rare. They’re traveling, so it’s harder to eat on the road. There are no restaurants anymore. There is a soup kitchen at a church in Frederickson. So if you’re in town for a while, you can eat. But not on the road so much. Most of the people we’re seeing have food in their vehicles.”