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  Sarge glared at me. “You think your smart, don’t you?”

  I shrugged and replied, “I worked in technology, you forget.”

  “How could they have a signal? How far can that thing send a signal?” Sheffield asked.

  I thought about it before replying. But Sarge was getting impatient and snapped, “Well? Come on, smartass. Spit it out!”

  Shaking my head, I replied, “The max distance is around forty-five miles.”

  “So all they need is a tower within a forty-five-mile radius?” Livingston asked. I nodded.

  Sarge took on a serious tone. “Crystal River is probably sixtyish miles as the crow flies.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” I replied.

  Sheffield looked even more worried. “That’s too far though.”

  “Not if they’ve put one up in the middle. Someplace between here and there,” Sarge said.

  Livingston shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why would they be using cell phones? The Russians have secure communication equipment just like we do.”

  “I’m sure they do,” I replied. “But they’ve also come up with a secure cell system that they claimed at the time was un-hackable. They showed it off at some conference in Shanghai. They know that we’re all royally screwed, but maybe they think the old NSA is still up and operating. Just a thought.”

  “Any radio signal can be tracked.” Sarge said. Pointing at the phone, he added, “Even if the NSA couldn’t figure out what was being said, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out where the signal is coming from. As soon as that thing starts transmitting, they can determine range and bearing, if the equipment is near enough.”

  We made it back to the market, which was now empty of people except for the few at their booths. They weren’t willing to leave their wares to watch the action on the road. Many of the customers at the market ran off when the shooting started. But they returned when it stopped, curious to see what was going on. Entertainment today was at a premium. This was the biggest thing to happen in Umatilla in a very long time.

  We went to the table of the man that sold the eggs. He was looking concerned at our approach and asked, “What the hell is going on?”

  Sarge held out his hand, “Let me see the coin that boy gave you.”

  The man stepped back. “It’s my money. You can’t take it from me.”

  Sarge smiled. “Actually, I can if I want to. But I don’t want to. Just let me see it. I’ll give it back to you.” He emphasized his words by motioning with his hand.

  The man hesitantly reached into his pocket and removed the coin. He paused for a moment to look it over, as though he’d never see it again. He finally handed it over with a little sigh. Sarge took the coin and inspected it before handing it back, much to the relief of the trader.

  “Those guys have any accent?” Sarge asked.

  The man shrugged. “Not that I noticed.”

  “Ever seen them before?” I asked.

  The man nodded. “A couple of times. They’ve been here buying food. They had real money and didn’t bother anyone.”

  “How long they been here?” Sarge asked.

  Again, the man shrugged. “I really don’t know.” He paused and pointed to a young woman standing on the curb looking back in the direction of the shooting. Even from this distance, it was obvious she was crying. “That girl there knows ‘em.”

  We looked over at her. She was tall and thin, as were most people today. She had long red hair that wasn’t knotted and looked to be very well kept. The man then added, “I think she had a thing for one of them.”

  Sarge smiled. “Is that so?” He started walking. “Let’s go have a word with her then.”

  We followed him to where the young woman stood with another woman that was older. Sarge walked up behind the two women and stopped, and we did as well. They were talking about the two men lying in the road.

  The red-haired girl wiped her eyes and said, “I can’t believe they shot him. He wasn’t doing anything. They were just buying food.” She sobbed and added, “He was going to make us dinner tonight.”

  The older woman wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so sorry, honey. I can’t believe they killed them like that. In cold blood. Right in the middle of the street.”

  The young girls seemed to stiffen. “I’ll get that Sheriff.” She sobbed harder. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

  Why, why did people always want to get me? Why was it every time some asshole did something wrong, in this case shooting at me, did people want to take a shot at my ass as a result? This, above all other things, really, really, pissed me off. Stepping to the side of Sarge, I said, “Well, there’s no time like the present.”

  The two women, startled and turned to face me. The older woman’s face was clearly painted in fear. The younger one though, had a much different look about her. She glared defiantly at me. Sarge stepped between us. “Easy there, yougin’. Be careful just what you say and do. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

  The young woman still glared at me as though I was the only one involved in what just happened. The older woman was growing more concerned and asked, “About what? We haven’t done anything.”

  Sarge smiled. “Of course not, we know that. We’d just like to know who these men were. Where they came from and how long they’ve been here.”

  Still defiant, the young woman said, “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  Sarge looked at the older woman. “What about you? What can you tell us?”

  She was very obviously nervous. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Don’t tell them anything, Mom.” The young woman replied.

  I was getting annoyed. “Look. We didn’t start this shit. They did. All we wanted to do was talk to them. They started shooting first. They did it to themselves.” Looking at the older woman, I said, “Now answer the damn questions.”

  The young woman looked at her mother. “Don’t tell them anything.”

  I shook my head. Looking at Sarge, I asked, “Why does it always have to be the hard way?” As I pulled a set of cuffs from my vest, I looked at the young girl and said, “You can talk to us here, politely, or we can go to Eustis and talk there. The choice is yours.”

  The girl’s mother became even more afraid and appealed to her daughter. “Britney, just tell them what they want to know.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued. “I don’t want you to get arrested. Just tell them.”

  Looking at the mother, I said, “I don’t care which one of you answers the questions, but some-damn-body is going to.”

  “How long have they been here?” Sarge asked the mother.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. A week maybe.”

  The young woman grabbed her mother’s arm and pulled her. “Don’t tell them anything! Come on! Let’s go!”

  I stepped in and grabbed the girl’s wrist. She looked at my hand for a moment, then looked at me. I said, “It doesn’t work that way,” and snapped a cuff onto her wrist. And as they say, that’s when the fight started!

  The girl went crazy trying to get away from me. She screamed and screeched as she spun and fought. I had ahold of the other cuff and that was all I had. I thought Sarge or Livingston would step in. But in one of her twirling passes past Sarge, I clearly saw him laughing at me. But she didn’t just fight with her arms and legs. Her mouth was going a mile a minute as she cussed me like a drunk sailor.

  I finally managed to pull her out and get the palm of my right hand against the back of her elbow. Once I had control of her arm, it wasn’t a big deal to take her to the ground. She couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds, so pulling her other arm back and cuffing it was easy. But that didn’t stop her mouth. She continued to cuss me. Screaming she would kill me, and anything else that came to her mind. To silence her, I pulled my bandanna from my pocket and shoved it into her mouth.

  “Shit!” I shouted as I stood up to her muffled complaints.

  “What?�
�� Sarge asked.

  I shook my hand and looked at my finger. “She bit me.” Sarge grabbed his stomach as he belly-laughed.

  Sheffield didn’t look happy and asked, “Is that really necessary?”

  I looked down at the girl, then back at him. “Yes, it is.”

  Sarge looked at the older woman, who was pleading for me to let the girl go. “Just tell us what we need to know and we’ll let her go. We don’t want to take her anywhere.”

  The woman’s hand trembled as she held it to her mouth. “What do you want to know?”

  “How long they been here?”

  The woman looked at her daughter before replying. “About two weeks. They started coming into town for food. They hung out with some of the younger people. Britney became friends with one of them and they spent a lot of time together.”

  “Did they have an accent?” Sarge asked.

  The woman shook her head. “No. Well, sometimes they sounded a little funny. Like when they got drunk.”

  “And how did they manage to get drunk?” I asked. “There hasn’t been any alcohol around for a long time.”

  “They brought a bottle of vodka to our house one night. They had food and we had a kind of party. They were really nice.”

  Sarge and I were looking at one another. “Vodka, huh?” Sarge asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What were they doing here? What did they do all day?” I asked.

  “They just hung out. They liked to go over to the old juice plant.”

  “Did you ever see them with any guns?” Sarge asked.

  She nodded. “Sure. But everyone has guns now.”

  Sarge pointed down the road at the Tigr sitting against the house. “Did you ever see that truck before?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. They said it was an old army truck.”

  Shaking my head, I asked, “You didn’t think it was kind of odd they had a running truck with fuel?”

  She looked at me. “No I didn’t. What we thought was they were nice guys. They brought us food and other things no one has anymore. They didn’t bother anyone and helped people out. Then you killed them.”

  With a sarcastic laugh, I replied, “You didn’t notice they started shooting at us first? If they were such nice guys, why did they do that? We just wanted to talk to them. But they started shooting. They killed themselves.”

  The woman didn’t reply. She looked down at her daughter lying on the ground, and at her feet. She glanced up and asked, “Are you going to let her go?”

  “Where were they staying?” Sarge asked.

  The woman shrugged. “I don’t know. We only saw them when they came to town.”

  I nodded towards the guys lying on the road. “Did she ever go to their place?”

  The woman shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t let her leave with them.”

  Looking at Sarge, I asked, “You satisfied?”

  The old man nodded. “Yep. I reckon they told us everything they know.”

  I knelt down beside the girl and grabbed her shoulder. “I’m going to take these cuffs off you now.” She cut her eyes up at me. Pointing, I continued. “You behave yourself when I do or you won’t like the outcome. Got it?” She didn’t respond, just stared at me. “Got it?” I asked again a little louder.

  This time she nodded, so I unlocked the cuffs and removed them. She quickly ripped the bandana from her mouth and threw it on the ground and tried to swallow. I could imagine how dry her throat was with that cloth being jammed in there, so I pulled a canteen out and uncapped it. Holding it out, I said, “Here, have a drink.”

  She took it and took a long gulp. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she threw the canteen at me, sloshing some water on me. Without saying a word, she got to her feet and quickly walked off. I looked at her mother and said, “You should go with her. I know she’s in a bad way right now. But what happened wasn’t my fault and I take no satisfaction from it. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”

  The woman nodded and followed the girl. We watched as she disappeared behind the store. Once she was gone, Livingston spoke. “Well, we don’t know any more now than we did.”

  Sarge leaned forward and pinched off one side of his nose. Taking a deep breath, he fired a snot rocket into the sand. I smiled when I saw Sheffield grimace and shake his head. I wondered what he was in the Before. He damn sure seemed a little odd to me.

  Sarge wiped his hand on his pants, getting another queer look from Sheffield, before replying. “Actually, if you were listening, we learned a lot. We know the Ruskies are here. We know they’re throwing money around, real money. We know they’re playing the hearts and minds game, trying to show folks they’re the good guys.” He paused and looked around our small group. “And now we know it’s working. They’ve been coming in and out of town here and we didn’t even know about it.” Sarge looked at me, “You didn’t know they were here, did ya?”

  I shook my head. “No, this was the first time I’ve seen them. But we don’t spend a lot of time here. Not as much as we do in Altoona.”

  “Looks like that needs to change, Sheriff,” Sarge replied.

  I nodded. “Was already thinking that.”

  We walked back over to the vehicles. Everything had been removed from the Russian’s truck. The war wagon was now sitting on all fours again. The man that repaired the tire was leaned over it with one foot up on the bumper with a very expectant look on his face. Sarge walked over and kicked the tire.

  “It’ll hold,” the man said.

  Sarge nodded. “I reckon it will. Good work.” He looked at Jamie and said, “Pay the man.”

  Jamie tossed him a pack of smokes, which he nearly knocked out of the air in his exuberance. He tore the pack open and quickly shook one out, pinching it in his lips. Then, like a man lost at sea with water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink, he realized he didn’t have a lighter.

  Patting his pockets, he muttered, “Aw shit.”

  I smiled and gave Jamie a nod. She tossed him a Bic lighter, which he quickly used to light up. I walked over to Jamie and took another pack from the carton she held under her arm. Walking back over to the man, I handed it to him. He smiled broadly, “Hot damn! Thanks, Sheriff.”

  “No problem. I appreciate the effort on the tire. If we ever need another one fixed, you’ll be our man.”

  With his smoke dangling from his lips, he smiled and said, “Good doing business with you. Any time you fellers need something fixed, just let me know.” He collected his tools and started back towards his shop. He didn’t get far before a crowd descended upon him. It was very obvious, and rather comical, that they all wanted a smoke. It was obvious the men in the crowd were shit out of luck. But it looked as though one woman just might get her nicotine fix.

  It was funny and sad at the same time to see what people were reduced to. Here was a woman willing to trade her body for a cigarette. Of course it was a luxury today. And for all I knew, they could be together. But it was still disturbing to me.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sarge stood on the seat of the Hummer, looking over the roof. “Let’s make like an asshole and get the shit outta here! We’re burning daylight!”

  Mike was talking with the Guardsmen that were going with them on the patrol over to Crystal River. They were taking one of the MRAPs and one Hummer. Sarge, Dalton and one of the Guardsmen were going to ride in the Hummer. The other guys would take the MRAP. As one of the Guardsmen approached the truck, Dalton nodded at the driver’s seat. “You drive; I’ll take the turret.”

  The man nodded and held out his hand. “Kevin Harris, good to meet you.”

  Dalton took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you too, Kevin.”

  “Harris!” Sarge barked. “Get yer ass in here and let’s get on the damn road!”

  Dalton smiled and winked at Kevin. “Good luck.”

  “You too, Dalton! Get yer Sasquatch-lookin’ ass up in that turret!” Sarge barked again.

  Dal
ton moved immediately. “Yas’sah, boss! Shakin’ the bush, boss! Shakin’ the bush!”

  Harris got in behind the wheel and closed the door. He looked over at Sarge, who was giving him the stink eye. “Can you drive?” Sarge asked.

  Kevin nodded. “Yes sir.”

  Sarge’s face twisted into a sneer before screaming back. “That’ll be enough of that sir shit! You see any fucking jewelry on my fucking collar?”

  Kevin shook his head vigorously. “No, no s…” Sarge cut him off. His finger was touching Kevin’s nose. “Don’t you fucking say it!”

  Kevin hesitated and shook his head. His mind was searching for the right word. Dalton was sitting in the sling seat of the turret, smiling to himself. He leaned down and looked at Kevin. He could see the panic on the man’s face. Coming to his aid, he looked at Sarge and asked, “We ready, Top?”

  Sarge never took his eyes off Kevin when he replied. “I don’t know. Are we, Harris?”

  Kevin nodded. “Ready if you are, Top.”

  “You ain’t fucking waiting on me! Get moving!” Sarge barked.

  Kevin dropped the truck into gear and pulled off. His eyes stayed fixed out the windshield. Sarge glared at him for a long minute until he was certain Kevin wasn’t going to look over. Then he smiled and sat back in his seat. He pointed at the windshield and said, “Take 450 here all the way to forty-two and turn west.” Kevin didn’t reply, only nodded.

  Dalton spun around in the turret, checking to make sure the MRAP was there. Satisfied everything was as it should be, he settled into the ride. He liked it up in the turret. The air, though hot, was at least moving. As the trucks wound their way down 450, they passed the Elk’s Camp. Dalton looked over at the gate as they passed. The makeshift roadblock was still partly there and Kevin maneuvered around what was left of it. Sarge also watched as the camp passed. He glanced up, half expecting to see the sky full of buzzards. They’d left a lot of bodies lying out there and he wondered what became of them. He’d like to stop and look around, but they had a mission and time was an issue. He wanted to get it over with as fast as he could.