The Final Day (After, #3)(80)

“Let’s not go off half-cocked, Ernie,” John replied.

“Half-cocked? Let’s look at this from a different light, John. So this your legendary friend Bob Scales?”

John nodded.

“And our new military dictator. At least he looks a damn sight more official than that damn Fredericks that I put a bullet into.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Ernie, can we just mellow out for a moment?”

“So you’re the one that shot Fredericks?” Bob interjected.

“Yeah. You got an issue with that? The bastard was about to shoot my foolish friend here in the back, so I gave it to him first.”

“From what I heard of everything that happened here”—he paused—“can’t say I blame you. And if you saved John’s life in the process, I thank you.”

“Just great, I feel exonerated,” Ernie replied. “So now that I’ve confessed, am I on the arrest list too?”

“No.”

“But my friend here is?”

Bob was silent.

“Tell you what. A quid pro quo. You let him go, we let you go. You hold him, we hold you. You execute him, we execute you. How’s that sound?”

“Damn it, Ernie, stop being an ass,” John snapped. “One volley from an Apache will take this place apart—you, your entire family, all the kids you got upstairs. I won’t be part of that.”

“Thank you, John,” Bob said softly, still forcing a disarming smile. “Mr. Franklin, I respect your loyalty to our friend John. I feel the same way about him. But to try to hold me—actually, I’m okay with it, but some of my people would not be—they’d try a rescue and evac the moment they heard I was being held, and a lot of innocent people on both sides would get hurt. We don’t want that. I know John doesn’t want it either.”

John nodded.

“Well, maybe I’m willing to take the risk.”

“Ernie, go upstairs and ask Linda what she thinks.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, John, don’t pull that card on me.”

“Smart decision, husband,” Linda announced from the landing of the stairs that led up to the first floor. “Now will you invite our guests in?”

John looked up at her, smiled, and could see the look of worry clouding her features.

Ernie relented, motioned for them to go up, while behind them, his sons, daughter, and son-in-law were taking off their camouflage smocks and stacking arms.

As they reached the first floor, Bob breathed in deeply, smiled, complimented Linda on whatever was simmering atop the woodstove in the kitchen, and then went over to the fireplace in the living room, extending his hands to warm them. John joined him, and looking up to the second-floor balcony, he could see nearly a dozen anxious faces peering over the railing and looking down at them. He motioned for them to disappear, but they did not comply.

Linda came over, helping John and Bob to take off their parkas while the daughter approached the two with steaming mugs of broth, which both gladly took.

It was all so surreal for John, as if he and an old comrade from his army days were paying a friendly visit. But he could not help but notice the sea of cold, decidedly unfriendly gazes from Ernie’s family who were gathered in the kitchen and leaning over the balcony railing.

Bob could not help but notice as well, and after taking several long sips of the warming broth and thanking their daughter, he turned to face the assembly. “Can I ask that all of you join me down here by the fire?”

There was an initial reluctance, no one moving.

“Please. It’s okay. Let’s gather round,” John said, and the tense spell was broken for a moment.

The students came down from the second floor, family members coming out from the back rooms of the first floor, filing into the spacious living room. As almost twenty of them gathered in, John could see just how much the Franklin Clan had been putting out to support their Skunk Works. Even though the house was large, it had become decidedly crowded. Rations that had been long ago planned for eight or ten to survive for a couple of years were now being doled out at what must be a prodigious rate. He figured Ernie must have been using either gas or propane to at least power the well to keep a cistern filled. How much more was that taking now?

With two surviving sons—a third had been killed in the fight with the Posse—a daughter who now appeared to be pregnant and her husband, four grandchildren, and nine students, the strain of supporting all of it must certainly be telling. He could see Linda was the matriarch of the entire arrangement and could sense her near-infinite weariness with all that she had to see to as she continued beyond that to be something of a project manager as well. But it was all now coming to an end, the future indeed uncertain and most likely dark.

Bob put the mug of broth down, looked around at the gathering, and offered a somewhat military “Let’s all just stand at ease and relax” opening statement.

But no one did relax; the tension was palatable.

“I’m sorry, truly sorry, to tell you that whatever it is all of you are engaged in, I have received orders to shut it down.”

“From who? Why, damn it?” a chorus of protest rose up.

Bob extended his hands in a calming gesture, but it did no good, anger rising by the second.

“Damn it, everyone shut the hell up!” John snapped out sharply, and the room did fall silent in response to his outburst.