The Benefactor Read online

  “Thanks, Brock,” Meagan said. “We do need a schedule to look after our patient and keep the fires going. Maybe we can combine the duties. I think a rotating two-hour shift would be a good way to go at night. I think extending that into the day would be good so we know who’s in charge of what. I’m really a night person,” she lied, to start the ball rolling. “I volunteer for the first shift tonight, if no one objects.”

  Sondra unexpectedly tuned back into the group: “You’ve got it, honey. I’m going to propose we wean ourselves off the flashlights we have. Maybe use our flashlights for midnight potty visits and emergencies. Tonight, let’s use them for a pre-sleep outside pee. We should look into torches for the future.”

  There was mild astonishment in many that Sondra had engaged productively.

  “Conserve resources! I like it,” Meagan said. “All right, then. I’ll put the ladies on the first shifts tonight, and we’ll go from there. Remember, Brock has agreed to be on-call. We need to start turning in. We don’t want to waste tomorrow’s precious daylight.”

  “That’s right,” Susan said weakly. “John and Lee need an early start. Sooner out, sooner back.” She tried to summon strength. She dreaded John’s departure, and she silently hoped he would return to the Denton Ranch and not go on to Washington state.

  Later, John and Susan had a long talk before they fell asleep. They had news for the breakfast table tomorrow.

  *****

  Across the upstairs foyer from John and Susan, Zeke and Meagan sat on the edge of their king-sized bed next to each other.

  Zeke’s eyes took in the totality of their large bedroom. “I guess we lucked out getting Denton’s bedroom, a real presidential suite. Beautiful furniture, all of the amenities, sweet suite.”

  Meagan: “About last night …”

  “As you said, Meagan, it was only our first date, and you want to save yourself for marriage. I respect that.” Then he laughed, “However, you’re the one who was spooning me! At least at first, anyway.”

  “I know. I was freezing. Sorry, I woke you with my cold body.”

  “It’s okay,” he smiled. “We’ve all got to make sacrifices.”

  “Nothing has changed. I do think I’ll sleep inside a sleeping bag tonight, under the covers,” she said. “I appreciate your not pressing me.”

  “We’re good then!” Zeke said with accustomed male embarrassment to discuss intimacy. “Again, good work with our patient!”

  Helping Zeke throw back the covers and looking him in the eyes, Meagan said, “What do you think tomorrow will bring?” Uncharacteristic of her, there was a tinge of fear.

  Zeke was tempted to reflexively offer up a bromide: Everything will be okay. He didn’t. He knew that would be too shallow for Meagan. “I really don’t know,” he told her. “We’re in unchartered territory.”

  “Well, Zeke, I’ll join you later. I have the first shift with our patient.”

  *****

  Meanwhile, Cody bedded down in his RV in Moscow, ID. His business manager huddled with him in his luxurious king-sike bed. Her hourglass figure shivered next to him. She closed her hazel eyes tight, as if for additional warmth. Her shoulder-length golden-brown hair spilled over half of Cody's face. She had got no sleep the previous night in the band’s separate RV due to the cold.

  “Joan,” he said, “the city is going to be no place to be if we go on without power. Today no one — no policeman, no official, nobody on the street — had a clue as to what has happened. I fear the worst. I think there’s been an electromagnetic pulse from the sun or some terrorist cell’s device that will cripple our grid for months, maybe years. If Boise weren’t stabilized by a 43 percent religious culture, I think we’d already have riots. Having the second largest Basque population in North America doesn’t hurt either.”

  She scoffed, “Tell that to Spain!”

  “As always, you have a point, Joan. You should be my business manager,” Cody kidded. “I’m thinking about getting out of the city tomorrow if we don’t have power by then. We’re going to run out of bullets here before we run out of food, or however that phrase goes.”

  “You’re probably right, Cody. What are you going to tell the band?”

  “What are you going to tell the band,” he laughed. “That’s why I pay you the big bucks!”

  “And you make a good point, sir. But where will I spend the big bucks now?”

  “You know I’m kidding. I’ll talk to the band. Hell, they can come with us if they want. There’s just no future in hanging out here. I assume you want to come with me. I forgot you all got liberated a few years back and following a man is not a given.”

  “Don’t give me that corn-pone act of yours, Cody. You were summa cum something at the U of Idaho, Rhodes Scholar, Julliard …”

  “My kindergarten teacher wasn’t all that impressed,” Cody said with his usual self-effacing humor.

  Seeking reassurance, Joan overlooked the attempt at a joke. “Cody, do you really think we’re in danger?”

  “I do if we stay here! Think how quickly civilization breaks down before and after a hurricane. And that’s a known finite event. When Hurricane Irma was coming into Florida, the store shelves in her path sold out of water and most canned goods soon after the early warning. This, whatever it is, is of unknown duration. Someone astute once said civilization is only three missed meals away from chaos. I believe that. It could get real nasty, real fast.”

  Very somberly, Joan spoke, “Don’t suppose you’d sing ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ for me? Not with that melancholy tempo Judy Garland is famous for.” She pleaded, “Cody, make it upbeat!”

  January 2

  The news at breakfast was that John and Susan were engaged. Karen’s eyes focused on Susan’s bare lefthand ring finger. Jed read her mind and nodded yes. Their nonverbal communication was a result of working hundreds of tasks together on the farm, and they had been married ten years.

  “Susan, Jed and I are going to loan you my engagement ring until John is able to get one. It’s not as if he can go out and buy one, is it?” Everyone approved.

  Susan tried it on with glee as her words, I just couldn’t, showed her good manners. Naturally, Karen insisted.

  John said apologetically, “I do have one for Susan in a strongbox at my hotel by the university. Lee and I will swing by there while we’re in Missoula. If I don’t get to come back here, he can bring it. I’ve been planning this marriage for a long time.”

  Susan was on top of the world. She was blushing. The proposal last night was earlier than she expected, and she was surprised and honored that John had spent so much time preparing to ask her to marry him. Tearfully, she kissed her fiancé goodbye as everyone rose from the table.

  Zeke shook hands with John and Lee. “All right, guys. As we discussed last night, go tactical. Lead carries the pistol. The one with the rifle stays in trail but not directly behind. Karen packed you up with sandwiches and canned goods. You have a good amount of bottled water and a carbon filter. The danger of drinking any river or stream water without purification has gone up several notches in the last day. Bring us back some steaks and beer!”

  John laughed, “We’ll do that — maybe kale and huckleberries for the vegans …”

  Jed corrected the record, “You have noticed Karen and I, in fact, eat meat!”

  Lee ignored the idle chatter, “Come on, Run-Silent-Run-Deep, we’ve got an appointment at Sub Base Missoula.”

  John should have laughed at the reference to the 1958 movie classic about submariners in World War II. Instead, he felt a wave of depression cast a dark shadow over his soul. He remembered his Navy nuclear training. If the EMP were from, say, atomic weapons detonated on the East Coast and Russia, grid failure would come soon. However, the effects of nuclear winter could be coming their way later through prevailing winds: global cooling, widespread crop failures, and worldwide famine from soot carried into the stratosphere.

  I pray that's not the case, John thought.
I hope Lee doesn't notice the cold sweat I just broke. As if to sneeze, he quickly turned his head 135 degrees, wiping his forehead in the process of covering his mouth. "Excuse me, Lee! Must be my allergies."

  *****

  No sooner than John and Lee disappeared from view, a tall man on horseback appeared at the gate of the Denton property. He honored the lock on the gate by not shooting it off.

  Armed with a Glock 9 mm on his belt, Zeke went out to talk to him. “Good morning, can I help you?”

  “Howdy, I’m the marshal of the Bitterroot Valley. People call me Marsh, not because of my title but because of my last name — two els. I’m a serious guy. That name business doesn’t help that much. I don’t think my news will surprise you. The valley is under martial law. That’s what I came to tell you. Sorry about the marshal, Marshall, martial thing.”

  Zeke saw that the marshal’s shiny badge on the vest beneath his open coat and a rifle on the side of his palomino steed. “Marsh, why don’t you come in for some coffee. We can exchange information.”

  Marsh smiled, “You’ll find I never turn down coffee.”

  Inside the house, seven of the eight remaining original residents sat down at the large oak kitchen table to have coffee with their guest. Anne was taking care of the patient in the living room. When Marsh sat, Zeke noticed the .44 magnum pistol on his belt. Everyone wore coats in the cold house. Through the fog created by his breath, Zeke explained how the group happened to be there. As he did, Marsh searched each set of eyes like the trained lawman he was. He automatically looked for suspicious behavior — an occupational hazard, he called it.

  Zeke wrapped up, “Marsh, we’d have you around the fire in the living room, but we have a patient from the crashed airliner who’s still recovering there. She started waking up from unconsciousness this morning. Three of us found her buried in a bank by the river. Do you know anything about the crash?”

  Marsh typically held his cards close to the vest. “I just knew there was a crash.” He didn’t offer anything else.

  Zeke noticed Marsh was a man of few words.

  Everyone but Sondra sat respectfully.

  Sondra rolled her eyes and shuffled in her chair. She nervously flipped her hair. “Come on, Marshal, you didn’t react to the crash? We deserve more, don’t you think?”

  Marsh tried not to glare at her, saving his intimidating look for another occasion. “I saw the flames. Didn’t know what it was. My vehicle wouldn’t start, so I didn’t get to the site until early next morning. Must have missed the threesome from here. Looked like nearby folk had been down there rescuing people. I couldn’t find any survivors or bodies. Sounds like you all saved one. Good work!

  “As I told Zeke, martial law is in effect.” His steely eyes did a slow sweep of the other eyes at the table. “Night curfew from dusk till dawn. Looters will be shot. I’d recommend you stay close to this place whenever possible. Most folks are still law-abiding, but there’s an element out there … .” His voice tapered off. “Long story short, if you venture out in daylight, go in pairs — armed. How are you getting along for food and water?”

  Everyone pitched in with tidbits that depicted their situation.

  Marsh summarized, “Sounds like you’ve got things under control. Let me know if things get desperate. Don’t slack up on boiling all your drinking water. We always have the prospect of giardia from animals excreting in our streams and rivers, but with the general population going to the river for water now, well, I expect it will become more contaminated every day.”

  Brock bristled, “Marshal, we have not talked about the elephant in the room. What happened? Some here have speculated that an EMP hit us — from a hostile act or from a solar flare. What do you know?”

  Tall, fit Marsh rocked back in his chair showing self-assuredness. “I don’t rightly know, sir. I feel like I’m under that old Chinese curse: May you live in interesting times. I woke up in the new year with a Jeep that wouldn’t start. How about you all? I just assumed your vehicles won’t start either — and that you're without power. The highway is littered with vehicles that apparently just stopped …”

  Interrupting, Sondra squinted with probing concern. She flipped her hair before speaking. “Have you had any contact with authorities in Hamilton, Missoula, or Helena?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Dissing his reply, Sondra rolled her eyes and shot back, “Then, how did you know to declare martial law?” Her tone conveyed a free-floating hostility, distrust, and superiority.

  Susan analyzed her.

  “I did that myself to protect the valley,” Marsh said with dispassion, leaning forward and now templing his fingers. He clearly was in charge. “I saw what was happening and decided to protect my valley. I’ve told you what I know. Any other questions?”

  After he scanned the faces around the table again, Marsh continued, “I’m spread thin. I just have one deputy to assist me." That's your one slip for the day, he chided himself. I hope no one asks to meet my deputy. "I’ll look in on you from time to time. Can I have a view of your new resident?”

  As they rose from the table, Meagan fielded the request, “She says her name is Keala. Before she opened her eyes this morning, she was mumbling something like: For this I came! over and over. She is starting to remember some things about who she is. I think the rest will come to her as time goes by. Let’s go by the fireplace. I’ll introduce you if she’s awake. She is still very weak, so we won’t tax her.” She went on to warn him against saying anything negative around her patient.

  Marsh smiled to himself, she reminded him of an Army nurse who took care of him in Afghanistan. Come to think of it, he thought, Meagan is bossier. I didn’t think that was possible.

  *****

  Zeke walked Marsh to the gate, where his palomino was tied. “Glad you stopped by, Marsh. It’s reassuring that there is still some local authority. Makes the uncertainty a little more bearable.”

  “Yeah, Zeke, my pleasure to meet you all. Good group. Looks like Keala will be a good addition to your crew here when she’s healthy. Until we get some kind of relief, morale is likely to go south. It'll be like swimming uphill. Don’t let that cause you to turn on each other. Keep people busy working on what they can control. Whoever your leader winds up being, he or she may well be blamed for everything bad. I suspect that they'll pick you as their leader. Kill the messenger, if you know what I mean. Human nature. I’ll be in touch.”

  The prophecy struck a note with Zeke. He felt a cold chill. Then he remembered a charismatic physics teacher, a former bomber pilot, in his high school years at New Mexico Military Institute who spoke in such sweeping generalities and pith. What always amazed Zeke was that there was inevitably so much wisdom and knowledge in the teacher’s words. He wondered: Cast a wide net, catch something?

  Marsh climbed back in the saddle and rode toward the Bitterroot River. He felt a twinge of guilt. He had told the people at the Denton residence he had given them what he knew. He really didn’t. For starters, he omitted Jenny’s ring, the expensive scotch, and the text messages. One text message to his smartphone on Dec 30 flashed to mind:

  You are appointed to be the marshal and your wife, the deputy marshal, of the Bitterroot Valley. Pack your valuables today as if for a fire evacuation.

  That day a FedEx truck had delivered the official-looking platinum badges for Jenny and him. Another text message from Dec 31 haunted him:

  You and your wife go to these coordinates by the end of the day with your valuables … .

  He and Jenny had argued about whether the whole thing was some kind of hoax.

  “If so, it’s damned elaborate and expensive, Jenny,” he had pointed out. “We have to investigate anyway,” he had said.

  What they found at the coordinates had deepened the mystery.

  *****

  For a while, John and Lee walked on each side of the railroad track, thirty feet apart, toward Missoula. The weather was good for hiking in the snow: cold, dank, a
nd partly sunny. As the railroad tracks flirted with Highway 93, they noticed abandoned cars stalled in the road. After noon, they approached the center of Florence on the highway. The filling station mart was abandoned except for several looters carrying food and beer through open shattered glass doors.

  “I know, Lee, you want to do something to help. There’s nothing we can do that won’t jeopardize us. Just get me to the armory.”

  “Agreed,” Lee said. “The whole scene is unnerving and disheartening. I’m glad Anne and Susan aren’t seeing this!”

  Several blocks farther, they could see the local mercantile. There was a line of people outside, order being maintained by someone with a rifle.

  Lee commented, “We know credit cards won’t work. There’s probably a natural rationing going on. Few people have cash these days. Even fewer have much cash.”

  “So much for the cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin that relied on electronics! I’m afraid it will be much worse in Lolo. Did you get into the cybercurrencies, Lee?”

  “I did not. It looked like a bubble to me. It bothered me that there was nothing backing them. But I guess you could say the same about all the paper fiat currencies.”

  They ate sandwiches while they walked. “Hey, Lee. Let’s take another water break. I’m getting a headache, my first sign of dehydration.”

  “Let’s do it,” Lee replied. “The cold weather makes me think I don’t need water. I know I do.”

  “It’s a real pain in the … head.”

  *****

  Three hours later they walked through Lolo. They saw looting of many small businesses in the strip malls, including the state liquor store.