The Final Day (After, #3)

“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.

“Listen up. What General Scales is saying here is the way it’s got to be. I don’t like it any more than you do. I came here with him with an understanding. No harm was to come to him, and realize he’s made one hell of a personal gesture of his showing his character by doing this personally rather than sending some underling to do it. He put his life on the line to deliver this message.”

No one said anything, but John could still sense the righteous anger.

“Look, it is the way it is, and I don’t like it any more than you. Either we shut it down and start disassembling it now, today, or I know for a fact that come tomorrow, his people will be back and do it for us.”

“Let them try it!” Samantha cried, voice near to breaking. “We haven’t busted our asses for weeks without sleep just to have it come to this.”

“I know how you feel. Remember I was the one who first said go ahead with it when Ernie and Paul Hawkins figured out we could get computers back up and running and use them for what you’ve been doing. Please listen to me. We don’t agree, you try to put up a fight, and thirty seconds of an Apache helicopter hovering over this place will end it anyhow. There is no arguing with that. Most of you saw what an Apache can do when we faced off against Fredericks back in the spring.”

“So we surrender to another Fredericks, is that it?” Samantha pressed. “Go ahead and try, damn it. We can haul this stuff out of here before you hit and hide it in the woods, and then try to find it all.”

Bob edged past John and looked straight at Samantha. “I admire your courage, young lady. Yes, you can do that. If I were you, that would be my first reaction. But please think. If forced to act rather than resolving this peacefully, this house is gone. If forced to, your power station—which you need to run things here—is gone. Then what? You are dead, and a lot of young men and women about your age are gone as well. Please, I do not want that, but the orders are firm. This operation shuts down today. I’m asking your help to ensure it happens without anyone getting hurt. If I didn’t care about that, I just would have sent an attack helicopter in and not put myself here in front of you.”

John looked over at his old commander and actually did feel a surge of emotion. His words, his caring, hit hard. Fredericks, and so many others like him, would have hit first, and those killed on both sides not a concern.

There was a long moment of silence broken only by whispers back and forth between those assembled.

“He’s right,” Linda finally interjected, breaking the tension. “All right, General, we shut it down, but before we do so, I want you to look at a few things and answer a few questions. Can you agree to do that first?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“It’s Linda.”

“All right.” Bob hesitated, some emotion showing. “My wife was named Linda as well.”

Linda looked back at the gathering around them. “Why don’t you kids relax for a while? You all look pasty faced as zombies. Get some coats on, go out, and enjoy the air and a bit of sunshine before that next storm rolls in. Now get going.”

She shooed them out of the living room like a protective hen, the group breaking up, but it was obvious that none of them were pleased.

“How about we go upstairs to talk?” she offered. “Ernie, time for some cigars and brandy.”

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