Solar Storm: Book 4: Solar Storm, #4

By Marcus Richardson

When the lights go out, darkness rises.

 

Forced to make a choice between abandoning the people who gave them shelter or saving their own lives, Kate and the group bet on themselves. They hatch a daring escape plan, involving sympathetic locals who aren't as docile as their militia overlords thought.

 

Up north, Mac comes to grips with what he's done, what's happening around him, and what will likely happen next. He begins construction of a last-ditch retreat cabin that may well prove pivotal to his—and the Cantrells—survival.

 

But when Kate and the others steal out of Grover Creek in the dark of night, they run the risk of incurring the wrath of people who have up morals when the lights went out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Freeholder Press, LLC
• Release date: Jan 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386895077

Marcus Richardson

Marcus attended the University of Delaware and later graduated from law school at the age of 26. Since then, he has at times been employed (or not) as: a stock boy, a cashier, a department manager at a home furnishing store, an assistant manager at and arts and crafts store, an unemployed handyman, husband, cook, groundskeeper, spider killer extraordinaire, stay at home dad, and a writer.

Book preview

PART 1

SEASON 2: EPISODE III

ESCAPE

CHAPTER ONE

Kate stepped up to the door marked Mayor’s Office and knocked three times. After a moment longer than what she considered rude, a rough voice called for her to enter.

A handwritten placard of folded white card stock graced the edge of a glossy executive desk in the well-lit room proclaiming the Honorable Jeremiah Meiner was in office. Meiner stood and revealed a tall, lanky frame, crowned by a narrow face fringed with a patchy black beard. His rumpled camo jacket and the greasy hair on his head gave him the appearance of a homeless man, not the leader of a well-maintained town like Grover Creek.

His steel-gray eyes pierced her with a look so predatory that the breath caught in Kate’s throat. His gaze made her want to run, regardless of what that might mean for Jay or the kids. Kate’s heart thudded against her ribs as she stood transfixed.

Then he blinked, and the moment passed. Meiner’s expression softened, and he offered a smile as greasy and unkempt as his hair. Ah, Mrs. Cantrell! Good morning, good morning. Come in. My name is Jerry Meiner. Most folks around here call me General or Mayor, he said with a casual wave of his hand at the cardboard placard, but you can call me Jerry. He flashed another mortuary grin.

Kate swallowed and forced her heart to slow. The man before her exuded danger and every alarm in her mental cockpit wailed at the same time. As Meiner talked, her ears strained to pick up any sounds of an ambush from behind.

This man is dangerous, these people are dangerous, this town is dangerous…

She couldn’t stand to focus on Meiner’s pinched face any longer and instead sought relief by looking at a group of people outside the spotless windows behind him. Her hands, slick with sweat, twitched and the long muscles of her legs tensed, ready to flee.

Her subconscious screamed at her through an accelerated heart rate and cold sweat. Run, hide, tell the others…escape. You can’t just stand here…

Kate tried to speak but her throat had gone dry. She coughed behind her hand and tried again. And you can call me Kate…sir.

Meiner nodded and hooked his thumbs behind his belt. So what can I do for you, Kate? he asked, making her name sound poisonous. For a second, when he spoke her name, the predator was back, then it vanished once more.

Kate squared her shoulders as if facing a firing squad. I wanted to talk to you about my husband. Her gaze shifted over his shoulder to the growing crowd outside.

What the hell is going on out there?

Meiner clasped his hands behind his back and glanced at the ceiling. Ah yes, Mr. Cantrell—Patient Zero, as Dr. Bull calls him. Meiner settled those piercing eyes on her again, like spotlights in the night.

Kate felt a shiver ripple down her legs as if she stood naked before him. Get a hold of yourself, Cantrell.

I suppose you’re here to ask about his release?

Kate swallowed. Yes.

Meiner looked at her and frowned. Dr. Bull has not completed his testing, unfortunately. I’d like nothing more than to release him to your tender care, he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as they traveled south of her face.

But… Kate prompted.

His gaze snapped back up to her own. But without his approval, my hands are tied. Rules are rules, Mrs. Cantrell.

A knock on the door coincided with muffled shouts from the crowd outside. Kate stepped aside as the door behind her opened and Bill appeared. He flashed her a grin like they were old buddies, then came to attention, looking at a point over Meiner’s head and waited.

Yes? snapped Meiner. Mrs. Cantrell and I were having a discussion—

Sorry to interrupt, sir, but they’re ready.

Meiner’s face softened and a grim smile spread across his mouth. Excellent.

Ready? asked Kate, ignoring the irritated look on Meiner’s face. Who’s ready for what?

The execution, ma’am, Bill replied, still staring at a point over Meiner’s head. Shall I tell the men you’re coming, sir?

Very well, Meiner said. He turned to Kate. Bill will take you down so you can get a better look. We’ll have to finish our conversation later…Kate.

Something about the way he said her name made Kate want to take a shower and burn her clothes. She forced a half-smile and nodded. I look forward to it.

Kate was too preoccupied with keeping herself from fleeing Meiner at a run to care that her escort remained silent. Then Bill pushed open the main door to City Hall and a wall of sound hit her square in the face. Bill led Kate toward the crowd in the middle of the street.

Is that…? she asked, blinking in the bright winter light of a cloudless day.

Yep. It’s not the best scaffold I’ve ever seen, but it’s not bad for something we threw together overnight, huh? Bill said with obvious pride. We’ll build a permanent one soon enough.

Kate stared with revulsion at the ugly conglomeration of scrap wood and rope. "You’re hanging someone? She tugged her jacket down tight against her torso. Why?"

Bill never took his eyes from the hangman’s noose dangling in the air before the noisy crowd. We caught a thief a few nights back.

The way he said it so matter-of-factly made Kate shiver more than the cold air. What thief? she asked, looking around the crowd. She saw a smattering of women, all dressed in what looked like their Sunday best, interspersed with dozens of men in a random assortment of camo. Every man carried a weapon. Every woman remained unarmed.

Jon Hendricks, Bill spat. Used to be a friend of mine. Before.

Kate had to step closer to the militiaman to hear his voice over the crowd. The smiling faces and sporadic laughter that floated on the breeze made it sound like they were attending a festival, not a hanging.

So you have a working police force, too? she asked. Food, water, electricity, safety…even cops…what makes Grover Creek so special? How did you guys hold it together when the rest of the world fell apart?

Bill frowned. Nope. They split when we showed up.

Kate’s spine went cold and suddenly she very much wanted to be somewhere warm and far away from Grover Creek. Not a hanging, then…a lynching.

What…what did Mr. Hendricks steal?

Bill put a finger to his lips and nodded toward the stage. Meiner appeared and climbed the rickety platform. The crowd went silent as if someone had fired a gun in the air.

He scares them, too…

Meiner held up a can of peaches. He paced the stage, nice and slow, careful to show the canned fruit to the entire crowd, his boots drumming the boards with every step. Kate looked around and watched the faces that stared up at Meiner. The gaiety and laughter had died, replaced with fear-tinged, somber stares.

Food, he intoned, holding the peaches high. Food is what keeps us alive in these dark days. He drew the pistol at his side, a gleaming semi-auto that flashed in the sunlight. Food keeps us alive and these, he said, holding up the weapon, keep us safe.

Kate looked around as the people in the crowd murmured and nodded.

The Grover County Militia keeps you safe, Meiner announced.

Kate noticed for the first time the crowd was now surrounded by men with rifles. Where the townspeople watched Meiner’s antics on the stage, guards watched them, rifles slung low across chests, ready to aim at a moment’s notice.

She frowned. Who watches the watchers?

…and this man, known to some of you at least, stole from Grady’s.

"I tried to pay!" cried a high voice.

The crowd murmured again and parted as two camo-clad guards dragged a struggling man toward the stage.

Thief! someone shouted in the faceless mob.

No! yelled that same high voice.

Kate watched, unable to turn away due to the press of people around her, as men in camo forced a smaller man onto the stage and made him walk over to the gallows. He stood there, pinned between bigger, rougher men, and squirmed, his face slick with sweat and tears.

My children are starving! he pleaded.

Meiner ignored the outburst and addressed the crowd with arms raised. "We are all hungry these days!"

Some are more hungry than others, a man observed behind Kate. Several people grunted or hmmphed.

Kate didn’t understand until she spotted a guard at the far corner of the impromptu stage, his camo jacket straining at the zipper to cover his beer gut. His puffy cheeks were red from the exertion required to hold his rotund body still.

Remaining civilized is the only thing that prevents us from descending into the lawlessness that afflicts the rest of the country, Meiner continued. "We are a nation of laws."

Kate wondered about that. Who appointed you to enforce the law? She took a hard look around and didn’t see a single police officer or sheriff’s deputy—or anyone that looked remotely like they represented any legal authority.

"…stealing from one person is stealing from all of us, Meiner droned on. Stealing food is a capital offense nowadays—we all agreed to it!" he said, as if accusing the crowd of complicity.

By the looks on many of the faces around her, Kate realized that it wasn’t something most people agreed with, at least not willingly. Kate’s mouth compressed into a tight line. She counted the number of men armed with rifles, watching the crowd.

Might makes right.

…know the law. Meiner turned to face the condemned man. "You know the price of theft…of treason."

Kate looked around. Every man in the crowd is carrying a weapon…why don’t they do something about this? Meiner is nothing but a petty tyrant.

Treason? squeaked Hendricks. He laughed. Is that what you called it when you killed the Sheriff?

Kate watched Meiner stiffen, then one of Hendricks’ guards clamped a meaty hand over the condemned man’s mouth.

So that’s what happened, is it? I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you…

The penalty for theft is branding.

Kate glared at the strutting mayor. This is medieval…

"The penalty for theft of food…is death!" Meiner roared. A handful in the crowd shouted their approval.

Doesn’t he get a chance to speak, or at least defend himself? Kate muttered.

Shhh! someone hissed over her shoulder. Stay quiet, stay alive.

What? Kate said, craning her neck to see behind her.

A soft hand gripped Kate’s elbow. She forced a gap in the crowd and turned to look into the eyes of a woman a little older than herself. She had a pained expression on her face, as if her skin were stretched too tight across her skull. Her Sunday dress made the scene all the more ludicrous. Stay quiet, stay alive, she whispered.

Stay quiet, stay alive, a man murmured behind Kate in response.

Who are you? Kate asked.

A friend. My name’s Cynthia.

"…face your judgment! Meiner yelled, his narrow face contorted with rage, spittle flying from the corner of his mouth. Jon Hendricks, as leader of the Grover County Militia and Mayor of Grover Creek, I do hereby condemn you to death for the crime of stealing food." He nodded and the fat guard stepped forward to pull the dangling noose over Hendrick’s head.

Oh my God, Kate breathed.

No! Hendricks screamed. You can’t do—unh—you can’t do this!

The rope fell around his neck and Hendricks thrashed and fought, but the men on either side of him held him steady so the fat guard could tighten the noose. When he was finished, he looked at Meiner and stepped back.

Meiner spread his arms out wide again. "Stealing from one of us is stealing from all of us…and in these dark days, only strength in numbers will keep us alive."

Strength in numbers… muttered the crowd.

Kate looked around with her mouth agape. You’re all fucking insane.

Meiner nodded. Strength in numbers. He swung his arm back in a grand gesture and the floor dropped out from under Hendricks. A gasp went up from the crowd as Hendricks fell into the gap in the floorboards and the noose went taut.

There is strength in numbers! Meiner yelled, the cords on his neck taut. And this man, in stealing food from us, threatened to make us weak in the face of our enemies! Only through unity can we remain strong! he yelled. Strength in numbers!

Hendrick’s eyes bulged, and he flailed with arms and legs, bouncing off the platform. The guards looked at each other and then at Meiner.

Strength in numbers… the crowd responded.

Strength in numbers! Meiner roared again.

Strength in numbers, the crowd echoed, a little louder.

"Strength in numbers!" Meiner shrieked, strutting across the stage while Hendricks flailed on the rope behind him.

Strength in numbers, the audience repeated, louder still, but with only a hint of the conviction in Meiner’s voice.

Kate’s hand flew to her mouth as Hendrick’s hands went to his neck, his eyes wide in surprise and fear, his face already turning a ghastly shade of purple. Someone nearby threw up, the retching sound sharp against the sudden stillness in the air. Kate stared as Hendricks swayed and kicked, straining against the knot that had failed to break his neck on the initial drop. His eyes sought help from the crowd, alternating rolling up and glaring out at the witnesses.

Suffering… Meiner said in a shaky voice as he stared at Hendricks. Suffering is a punishment ordained by fate! he finished stronger, but still not convincing. The militia leader took a hesitant step back from his suffocating prisoner.

A high-pitched wail emanated from the back of the crowd. Kate, along with most of the people around her, turned to see the source of the new distraction.

"Oh, my God—it’s his wife," a woman announced.

Someone get her out of here, for God’s sake! a man shouted. She don’t need to see this!

The mob surged in different directions—most pressed toward the widow-to-be, the rest rolled toward the gallows. Shouting and shoving broke out and rippled through the mass of citizens like a rock thrown into a still pond. An elbow struck Kate in the ribs and she felt the air rush from her lungs, then everything descended into hands and arms and faces swirling through her vision. Screaming and shouting assaulted her ears and Kate felt the press of bodies carry her further from the stage like an ebb tide.

She shoved a man in the back and as he fell forward into the stampede, she caught a glimpse of Hendricks, twirling on his rope, his face almost black, his tongue protruding from his gaping mouth like a grotesque pink sausage. Before her vision was occluded by more people in the crowd, she spotted a man in camo step toward Hendricks, a pistol aimed at the condemned man’s head.

When the gunshot cracked over the crowd, pandemonium erupted and the tide turned into a tsunami. Over the chaos, Meiner yelled for order and was ignored.

Kate! Bill’s voice called somewhere behind her.

Kate ignored him and pushed through the crowd. I have to get us out of here.

Kate! Bill called out again, further away.

She pushed and broke through the mass of bodies in front of her and ran. Kate ran from the fear of what she’d seen; she ran from the dead man at the end of the rope; she ran from Meiner, from everything.

Kate ran.

CHAPTER TWO

Mac took a somber look at the men gathered in his living room. They all sported long faces and bandaged bodies, but their eyes held the defiant fire of those who’ve faced enemies and emerged victorious. And that was why Mac knew he’d fail in convincing them to end their war.

You know they’ll be back, he said. There’s no turning back now.

Colonel Jackson nodded, a short jerk of his head. I know. And we’ll be ready. They’ve never pulled anything like this before—those tunnels were genius.

Mac crossed the room and sat down opposite the militia leader. And the redoubts?

Jackson’s mouth compressed into a tight line. Again, something new. Meiner is proving he’s more capable, every time we engage him.

Mac leaned back in his chair. Every time? How many times have you two fought?

Jackson waved away Mac’s concern. More like verbal sparring…Vance’s house. Now it’s serious.

Mac frowned. And yet you want me to get in the middle of it?

"The whole world is falling apart and you are in the middle of it, MacKinnon. In case you hadn’t noticed, that was you up there on that island, saving my ass."

Mac leaned back in his