G Hopf - Sanctuary

Nelson stared into Truman’s dark brown eyes and said, “If your brother was how you described him, maybe you should be looking in the closest ditch. Now, get out of here.”

Truman grimaced and motioned for his men to follow him.

“We’ll escort you gentlemen out the front,” Nelson quipped.

Eric nodded and said, “This way.”

Following Eric, Truman turned around one last time and winked at Nelson. It sent a chill up his spine.

Roger was an adaptable politician. He knew that in the old conventional world, what Barone had done would not go unpunished. But in this new world, Barone promised his small town a chance to survive and flourish. Yet Roger’s coalition with the other town leaders was fracturing quickly. In their attempt to convince the three dissenters to acquiesce to Barone’s plan, they had lost two others. The five leaders who had rallied against Barone could not see the consequences of expelling Barone. A call for a return to civilian control of the military was on the rise.

He was not looking forward to telling Barone the latest development. Sitting outside Barone’s office in the old finance department of city hall, he anxiously awaited the meeting.

The door opened and Simpson came out. “Come on in.”

Roger stood, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, and walked into the office.

Barone stood over a small table looking at a map of southern Oregon and Northern California. His brow was furrowed and he appeared to be lost in thought.

Roger cleared his throat.

“Ah, go ahead and sit, Mr. Timms. Sorry, I just had a briefing on some activity to the south,” Barone said without looking at him.

Roger sat down like a nervous student awaiting the principal. Barone pulled himself away from the map and walked to his desk. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not,” Barone said as he reached to the bookcase behind the desk and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

“Colonel, we have a problem.”

Barone took a large swig of whiskey. He turned and sat down in the worn leather chair. “Doesn’t every day pose a problem?”

“We now have five council members that are opposed to you staying here,” Roger said.

Barone laughed and said, “Really? Can you remind me who wants me and my Marines to leave?”

“The original dissenters were Mayor Brownstein, Milford, Franklin, and now they’ve convinced Peloni and Harper. They have told me they are not willing to change their minds and are actively courting the others. They plan to announce their decision tomorrow.”

“How nice of them,” Barone joked. “Well, how can we convince them otherwise?”

“It’s not that easy, Colonel.”

Barone poured himself another drink. With drink in hand, he walked to the bank of windows that overlooked the street below his second-story office.

Below he saw a perfect blending of townspeople and his troops, living in harmony. The coordination had gone seamlessly. He couldn’t have these few people causing a disturbance.

Turning back around, he asked, “What do they want? I know you politicians. You always want something.”

“Colonel, I’m serious. These people—the mayor specifically—are hardnosed and principled. Brownstein won’t budge. She’s actually stating that you either need to leave or face a trial for your crimes.”

“Crimes?” Barone laughed. He went back to his chair and sat down. “Mr. Timms, this is all crazy talk. Do I need to remind them of the advantages they have from our being here?”

“I’ve told them, but she is the one leading this. She’s a very patriotic person.”

“I’ve heard enough. Please set up a meeting as soon as you can so I can discuss this with them,” Barone said, leaning forward. He sat his drink down and clasped his hands together before he continued. “Mr. Timms, I want to thank you for coming to see me about this. You are a friend.”

“Colonel, what happened before is the past to me. I can see with my own eyes what good you’re doing for us. I’ve told you before. I want you to stay.”

“I want to stay too,” Barone said. He shifted in his chair and looked over at the map sitting on the table. “Sorry to be rude, but I have to get back to some of the other daily problems I’m plagued with. I look forward to hearing back from you soon.”

Roger stood up quickly and headed for the door. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Mm-hmm. Tell Master Sergeant Simpson to come in here, please,” Barone called out.

“Sure thing,” Roger said as he opened the door.

As if he had been listening to their conversation, Simpson was standing right there at the entrance to the office.

“The colonel—”

“Thank you, Mr. Timms,” Simpson said and walked past him and closed the door.

When Simpson walked in, Barone was pouring his third drink. “Top, you might have been right. I need you to keep tabs on the following people.”

Barone quickly ran down the list of the local leaders who were opposed to them. He gave Simpson some guidance on what he wanted, from following them to monitoring where they went and who they spoke to. He instructed him to plant Marines in plain clothes in any public meetings. He needed human intelligence as to what they might be doing.

“Yes, sir, I’ll get right on this,” Simpson acknowledged, turning to leave.

“One more thing, Top. Recall all our forces. We might need them here.”

“I gotta piss,” Brandon said from the backseat of the crew cab truck.

“I’ll pull over up ahead. Just hold it for a bit longer. And stop with the vulgarity,” Sebastian chided.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot we’re not supposed to curse in the apocalypse,” Brandon said sarcastically.

Sebastian adjusted the rearview mirror so he could see him. In response, Brandon lifted up his middle finger.

Sebastian nodded and readjusted the mirror back.

The four had been on the road since the early morning. It had started out uncomfortably for Sebastian and Annaliese, but within a few hours they began to carry on a light conversation. The boys acted like typical boys on a road trip. They bantered, laughed, made fun of things they saw. Annaliese tried to play a few games she grew up with, like “I spy with my little eye.” Luke was a good sport, but Brandon mocked her and the game. Sebastian played along while monitoring the road ahead, looking for any threats.

When they had pulled out of the compound in the early morning, they drove off with Sariah crying and waving. Annaliese had an intense premonition that she’d never see her mother again. They embraced for a long time, and many tears were exchanged. Sariah told her that she was welcome back anytime, but Annaliese knew that only pertained to her and not to her husband. This hurt her, as it pitted her feelings for Sebastian against her own mother. She prayed that time would heal the wounds of the past few weeks and that the altercation with Samuel could be forgotten. But until then, the time needed to pass. She and Sebastian still hadn’t completely dealt with the incident. It was a conversation they’d have to have and she wanted to make sure it was done in a way that benefitted them both.

Sebastian planned the trip carefully and estimated it would take them five days to travel the five hundred miles to McCall. However, he began to recalculate the instant they drove onto the freeway. Icy spots, old packed snow drifts, abandoned cars, and trash slowed them down. Fear of hitting something buried in some of the patchy areas of snow caused him to drive slower than he wanted. They had been driving for over seven hours and they had only gone forty miles. He was not happy at all. Soon the sun would be setting and he was not even halfway to where he wanted to be for the night.