Redaction: The Meltdown Part II (48 page)

“Ah.” He pushed up his glasses. “You said
marvelous
boyfriend. Wind must be messing with my hearing, I could have sworn you said something else.”

He must practice his stand-up act to pass the time. “They won’t be here for a while yet. Why don’t you come inside and wait?”

“Nope. I don’t want to miss them.”

Mavis sighed. The man wasn’t stubborn, he was intractable. “How could you miss them? They’re coming here.”

“Not Robertson, Sunnie and the others.” David raised the rifle and glanced down the scope. “That bastard is coming.”

“You think Trent Powers is coming here? Where all the pissed off military are?” She should have come out sooner. David’s brain must have frozen. He wasn’t making sense.

“Oh yeah. I promised God I’d sacrifice twenty-five virgin…” he lowered the gun, “Daiquiris to the altar of my beer gut if He delivered the bastard to me.”

Definitely out in the snow too long. It just wasn’t natural to live in places this cold. She snapped the blanket out flat and draped it around his shoulders. “I don’t think God works that way.”

“This time He will.” A muscle flexed in David’s jaw. “That bastard murdered Singleton. He’s mine.”

To murder. That would destroy everything they were trying to build. “David—”

He shrugged. The blanket puddled in the snow. “Don’t David me. I have a right to kill the bastard.”

“You don’t under—”

“—Stand?” His lips twitched with contempt. “Singleton knocked my ass to the ground in the sandbox, saving my life. Janovich kept me sane with his stupidity.” He poked her shoulder. “I owe them. I never should have been separated from them.”

For her.

She recoiled then caught herself. No way was he winning this argument.

“You wanna share the pain, huh? Spread it around in a misery loves company kind of way.” She jabbed his chest with her finger. “Say mean, hurtful things to me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did.” She poked him again. “And you probably meant them, too.”

“What are you talking about?”

A growl rolled up her throat. He was wearing
that
look—the kind guys wore when the pretended not to know what they did wrong when really they knew exactly the right tone, inflection and word to provoke. She hated that look. “Listen to me, David J Dawson.”

“Mavis—” He released the M-4 and raised his hands. The carbine fell against his hip.

“Nuh-uh. You listen with your mouth closed.”

He folded his arms across his chest.

What a gigantic pain in her heart. If she was any less stubborn, she’d let him win and walk away. Sucks to be him, that she wasn’t the pushover type. “If Trent Powers does come up that road, he will be arrested and tried for murder.”

“Singleton’s?”

“No. His wife and neighbor.”

David picked up his rifle and checked the interstate. “And no one gives a shit that some poor slob in a uniform dies, is that it?”

Mavis stuck her hands in her pockets. It wasn’t a perfect world. Instead of making it so, the Redaction, anthrax attack and impending meltdown had made it unbelievably fragile.

And David threatened to pop the thin skin holding it all together.

But she could give him one thing. Maybe it would be enough. “You can have the live round on the firing squad.”

Instead of answering, he adjusted his scope.

Her stomach cramped and she glanced at the road. Nothing. She saw nothing. “David?”

His finger shifted on the trigger. “I’ll be the bastard’s executioner alright.”

She shoved the barrel up in the air just as he fired.

He hauled the rifle over his shoulder, aiming the butt for her face. “Dammit woman.”

The Marines on the school’s rooftops scrambled to their feet.

She waved them down. “We can’t take him out this way.”

“Give me one good reason why not.”

“Everything we do now, we will pay for later. Everything any man or woman in uniform did in the past, we will be held accountable for.” Didn’t he see? Didn’t he understand?

“That’s nuts. We’re heroes to these people.”

“You’re a hero to the cold, tired and hungry. But what happens when they’re cold, tired and hungry in three months? Six? They’ll see those cookies you saved from your MRE as extra food. The rumors will start. The memories will surface and be twisted.”

He stomped away from her.

She ran after him. Hard-headed baboon. Like she didn’t have anything better than to chase him all afternoon. “That need for justice pumping through your veins is every bit a part of the human psyche as paranoia and envy.”

He paused and took aim.

Taking a deep breath, she planted herself in front of his gun.

Swearing, he looked up. “Get out of the way.”

“If you absolutely have to kill Trent Powers then shoot me first. Because I’m tired of fighting losing battles, of having every thing I do countermanded by stupid politicians, angry soldiers and Murphy’s Law.”

“You don’t think I will?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. He was more than capable. And given his mindset, her odds were fifty-fifty at best. “I honestly don’t know. But I won’t stand by and watch what’s left of humanity rip itself apart over that bastard.”

A hot tear leaked from her eye. Stupid cold. Not only did it cause her nose to run, now her eyes were watering.

“Dammit, Mavis…”

“Please.” She plugged the barrel with her finger. “I’m begging you.”

David’s shoulders slumped and he glanced up at the clouds. “You swear he’ll be convicted.”

Oh, thank God. She’d gotten through to him. “I’ve stacked the jury and I have the judge in my pocket.”

“There’s a judge left alive?”

“Brother Bob is a Justice of the Peace. He’s agreed to preside at a trial.”

“I thought he was a preacher?”

“He had a Bible, married people and presided over their burials during the Redaction, people just assumed he was.” Was that how Trent had slipped on a new skin? He certainly kept his Bible close enough.

The Marines on the rooftop waved and pointed West.

He set the safety on his weapon and slung it over his back. “Then let’s go arrest the bastard. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll fall a couple billion times on his way to the janitor’s closet.”

She’d won. For now. But David wasn’t the only pissed off military man with a weapon and Trent Powers in his cross-hairs. “As long as no one can see his injuries…”

“With luck, the bastard won’t live long enough for a bruise to form.”

“Send up the flare. We wouldn’t want our guest of honor to get lost.”

#

Mavis stomped her feet to keep the blood flowing. The wind whisked the snow off the drifts piled along the curb and tossed it in the air. She batted it away. “If I wanted to live in a snow globe I’d have shrunk myself and climbed in a plastic ball.”

Standing on her right, David snorted. “I’m beginning to suspect you don’t like the cold, Doc.”

On her left, Lister brushed the snow from his uniform. “This isn’t cold. You’ll know cold once we get to Colorado. That wind chill will freeze the tits off a bear.”

And she would be snug in a nice warm cave, just like a hibernating bear. She crossed her arms over her chest. Given the general’s words, that might not be an association she wanted. “Everyone knows what to do, right?”

“Yes.” Lister turned to the two Military Police officers standing behind them. “We know our parts.”

“You better.” She tucked her nose into her collar. How cold did it have to be before it froze and fell off her face? “Our audience isn’t exactly going to be thrilled by our actions. They think Trent Powers is a reverend.”

Civilians and military alike lined the two lane street. Many crowded the park around the small parking lot. Huddled together for warmth, no doubt. Everyone had turned out for the reunion. Only a handful of officers knew Robertson and the others wouldn’t be joining them for another forty-five minutes.

She glanced up. Lead-colored clouds stretched across the horizon. Too bad it wasn’t real lead. They would be shielded from the radiation. She raised her mic. “Any change?”

“Background radiation is still normal, ma’am.” The tick of the Geiger counter competed with the boredom in the soldier’s voice.

“Thank you.” Mavis forced the words between her teeth. Maybe she was a little hyper-vigilant, but these people were all the eggs in her basket. One drift of fallout and humanity left the building without a ‘thank you very much.’

Brother Bob jostled her elbow and squeezed in the space between her and David. “Did I miss it?”

“No.” She turned to the Justice of the Peace. Holy cow!

He adjusted his red power tie and smoothed the creases in his black suit. Snow ruined the polish on his dress shoes. A gold set of scales was pinned to his lapel. He certainly took his job seriously.

She hoped it didn’t get in the way of justice. “Did you sign the warrant?”

Not that it mattered. Trent Powers would be arrested and tried. She just wanted the appearance of a civilian court, not a military drumhead.

He nodded and pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “I found a copy of a warrant from the JAG database.”

Mavis plucked the paper from his grasp and let the wind unfold it. Skimming over the legalese, she scanned the note for Trent’s name, the two charges of murder and the data. Everything seemed to be in order. But what did she know? Hopefully, Trent’s government-supplied lawyer wouldn’t make a fuss. “Thank you.”

Brother Bob smoothed his salt and pepper hair. “I’ve also reviewed the evidence.” He shoved his fists into his pockets. “I can’t find any irregularities in the collection. All of it should be presented to the jury.”

And it will, especially the pictures. The bodies displayed on a forty-eight inch LCD screen should sway the jury and the audience. She handed the warrant to Lister.

He kissed the paper then addressed his MPs. “Arrest the puke, cuffs and everything, then throw him in our makeshift jail. If he resists shoot off his knee cap.”

Brother Bob opened his mouth then closed it again. “Opposing counsel should be given the opportunity to interview the witnesses.”

Mavis shrugged. That was the way it worked on TV. “The Sergeant-Major can answer his questions. The witness Emmanuel Saldana and other investigator, PFC Robertson have been a little… delayed.”

Brother Bob arched an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

“I don’t want to bias your opinion,” she lied.

A personnel carrier turned down the street. People rushed forward to get a better view before the Marines helped them back to the sidewalk.

When would they notice it was only one truck?

Murmurs started at the end and spread across the crowd. People rose on tiptoes and leaned to get a better view.

They’d noticed. The hair on her arms stood up. And they were not pleased. Excellent. Score one for her side. She cleared her throat. Now to play her part.

The truck slowed to a stop. The engine idled loudly then it finally fell silent. Behind the wheel, Jake Turner paled.

If this little homecoming unnerved him, the next bit should make him crap his pants.

Mavis stepped forward. “Alright, let’s unload the sick and injured.”

Four Marines hustled to the rear of the truck.

The crowd closed around the back. Some stared at the empty road then the single carrier as if trying to reconcile the two.

She stifled a smile. Everything was going as planned. Now to up the ante. “Where are the people with blankets and coats? We’ve got children here.”

Chains rattled as the gate dropped.

Jake opened his door.

Trent must have done the same on the other side.

Someone shouted, “It’s the reverend! Thank God he’s alive.”

David straightened, fists clenched at his side. He stomped into the street.

Brother Bob clamped a hand on his shoulder and reeled him back. “Easy, soldier.”

Good thing she insisted David leave his gun behind. Despite his promise, he might have shot Trent.

“Doc!” A Marine jogged over to her. Anger left spots in his cheeks. “The back is empty.”

Mavis looked over his shoulder, gauging the crowd’s reaction. “There should be fifty people in the back. Most of them children.”

Nearly everyone felt the need to protect children.

Confusion shifted to hostility. Men pushed forward. A few scrambled into the back. “It is empty.”

Anger lasered on the two men who’d ridden in the cab.

Trent sprinted around the front bumper. He raked a hand through is hair until the dirty blond locks stood on end. “Thank God we found you.”

Mavis nodded.

The two MPs marched forward. Handcuffs dangled from the fingers of one. “Trent Powers you’re under arrest.”

“What!” Trent reared back too late.

A silver bracelet dangled from his wrist. The MP quickly attached the other one, binding his hands in front, instead of back.

“You can’t do this!” He raised his arms to show the crowd. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

The crowd shuffled closer. Speculation swarmed like riled bees.

Airmen bracketed her and Brother Bob. Marines lined the walkway to the cafeteria keeping the path to the janitor’s closet-turned-jail free.

David cupped her elbow. “I wish I had my gun now.”

“We were attacked.” Trent shouted as the two MPs dragged him inside. “It’s not my fault the others aren’t with us.”

The buzz of voices grew in volume. She felt the tide of belief lap at Trent’s shores.

“The soldiers ran away instead of protecting us.” He jumped as the MPs shoved him through the door.

“Bastard.” David’s fingers dug into her muscle.

Mavis flinched but didn’t pull away. A bruise was a small price to pay to keep him from executing Trent. As for the crowd… She panned the audience.

Brother Bob shook his head. “Mr. Powers seems to have lost a bit of sympathy with that last bit.”

“True.” More than half of the audience dismissed Trent’s words. But several others had to think it over. A handful bought his words without thought.

“Worried?” David loosened his grip.

“Only twenty-five percent of the Colonists supported independence from England.” One in four. The number of people in the audience willing to think the worst of the military exceeded that now. She might have to rethink her timetable. “And look where that got us.”