Another fire, p.1
Another Fire, page 1
Another fire
Lyn McConchie
Night to Dawn Magazine & Books LLC
P. O. Box 643
Abington, PA 19001
www.bloodredshadow.com
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2021 by Lyn McConchie
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-937769-69-7
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-937769-70-3
Cover Artists: Constantin Opris and Muhammad Annurmal
Editor: Barbara Custer
Published in the United States of America
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher.
Ebooks are not transferrable, either in whole or in part. As the purchaser or otherwise lawful recipient of this ebook, you have the right to enjoy the novel on your own computer or other device. Further distribution, copying, sharing, gifting or uploading is illegal and violates United States Copyright laws.
Pirating of ebooks is illegal. Criminal Copyright Infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, may be investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of up to $250,000.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used in a fictitious situation. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, organizations, incidents or persons – living or dead – are coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
To those of the Blood and the People: One day, the world may turn over again as legends have foretold. If so, may you survive and thrive. And to Bryan Adams, I wrote most of this book to your music which has inspired me for some 40 years.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
About the Author
The fire falls into coals and ash,
But if some other traveler came,
To stir the coals he yet might find,
Some flickering vestiges of flames
But looking at the flickering light,
That lives again as flames flare higher,
It could be asked by one who sees,
“If this is the same – or another fire?”
Chapter One
The small, powerful car raced along the main highway out of Seattle, a seventeen-year-old boy at the wheel. His young face set in grim lines as he drove, his mind awash in memories that now and again struck hard enough to leave a tear crawling its slow way down his face. The car stereo was belting out Bryan Adams’ “All for Love.” It had been the song his parents danced to at their wedding, and he hoped it would lift his spirits. Naturally law-abiding, he was mostly keeping to the speed limit, but on a longer, straighter stretch, his foot pressed down gradually, and the speedometer needle drifted over. He was brought to notice that when from behind him, a siren sounded, and flashing lights in the rearview mirror underlined his lapse.
He pulled over obediently. Behind him, the police car halted, and an officer approached the driver’s window.
“License and registration, sir?” The last word had a sudden edge to it. A kid of this age wasn’t likely to own such a car, so maybe she had a thief here, someone taking ad-vantage of the turmoil. She looked down at the registration, then her gaze went to the license. The photo matched the boy’s face, and the names on both pieces of paper caught her attention. Could this be…?
“What’s your mother’s name?”
“Kerry Trevalen.”
“The orthopedic specialist? This is her car?”
“Yes, Officer.” Jason might be young, but he wasn’t stupid. This woman knew his mother, which could buy him a break. “If it’s okay, can I show you a photo?” The officer nodded. Jason dug out his wallet, opened it without quick or jerky movements, and extracted the photo of him and his mom at the zoo. Behind them, four otters reared up, paws against the glass window, looking keen to be part of the photo too. His mom was laughing, Jason had a wide grin, and her arm hugged him against her. He held it out.
The officer looked. That was Doctor Trevalen all right, and the boy in the photo and the one right here were the same. Okay, this was the doc’s kid, and she owed the doc. That operation the doc had done on her arm had meant she could stay in the job instead of having to take medical retirement, and she wasn’t the only officer who owed her. She handed the photo back, watched it carefully stowed away, and relaxed slightly.
“Okay, Jason Trevalen, so why are you and your mom’s car heading out of town and breaking the speed limit?” She saw sudden tears well up. “The doc?” Jason nodded. “Oh, hell!” Officer Lefau said softly. “The virus?” Jason nodded again. Linda Lefau took in a slow deep breath. If the kid had been told to get out of town, things were only going to get worse. Likely a lot worse. “What about the rest of your family? Did your mom say to leave? Where are you going?”
Jason steadied his voice to reply. “Family’s all gone. Grandparents went first, then Mom. The last thing she said was to take the car and anything I didn’t want never to see again and go to my dad’s place down in New Mexico.” That was a condensation of hours of discussion. Mom had known a lot more and told him what she knew, but he wasn’t sure it would be a good idea to tell the officer just how bad things were going to get. He saw the woman’s face tighten and understood he wouldn’t have to, that this was a woman who picked up on hints and context.
“What sort of death toll?” Linda Lefau asked quietly.
Jason shivered. His mother had once said you should never take away a person’s hope completely. He doubled the figure, doubled it again, and then added a bit for luck. “Maybe five thousand per million’ll make it,” he said in a small quiet voice.
The officer froze, face, body, rigid, motionless, almost unbreathing. Seconds passed before she spoke again. “It’s going to be that high? You’re sure?”
“Mom was sure.”
“And if anyone knew, she’d likely be the one,” Lefau agreed. “Okay, kid. I owed her, and if she’s gone, I guess any debt goes to you. So you move out now.” She turned abruptly, looked back at the car, and swayed slightly. “Whoa, guess hearing that’s knocked me for a bit of a loop. You get off now…”
“Officer?” The woman had been polite, and well … maybe a debt should go both ways.
“Yeah, kid?”
“Get all your money out of the bank. There’ll be power cuts, buy food that won’t go bad quickly, buy ammunition, pharmacy stuff, and seeds, and do it now, then go home.”
Linda Lefau straightened, meeting the serious gaze, and understood a few more things. “I will; you be on your way. I hope you make it, and – thanks.” She walked back to her police car, watching as the powerful car pulled back onto the road. A momentary faintness struck, and she wavered where she stood. A wave of fear washed through her, and she knew something else. She dived into the car, drove recklessly to the nearest mall, and bolted into the bank. There she emptied the family account, crisscrossed the mall’s shops buying with hasty care – particularly at the pharmacy – and with her loaded car, she headed home. She barged through the door and shouted.
A single voice answered. “Linda, that you?”
She found her husband alone in the kitchen. He, too, was a police officer but currently on leave. “Where are the kids?”
“Out, why?”
“Where?” He recognized the tone as suggestive of a dire emergency and asked no more questions.
“Steve’s at the playground, Mike’s next door with Scotty, and Ali’s taken Tiger to the vet for his shots.”
His wife nodded. “Okay, now listen, because we may not have a lot of time,” her smile was a rictus of anything but genuine amusement. “I was patrolling the main route when this kid came speeding past. I pulled him over, and he’s Doc Trevalen’s kid.” She told the story, adding deductions, and Jimmy listened in silence. He was a practical man. If what this kid said to Linda was right, and he had a feeling it was, then they didn’t have a lot of time, and for once in his life, he set the law aside.
“Your granddad’s cabin up in the mountains, good place for us to go. What did you buy?” He listened to the list and nodded. “Go down the road and take old Mr. Malcolm’s campervan. I know where the spare keys to that and the house are. Take all the food, his guns, and ammunition, any money – he keeps a stash in a pocket behind the puppy picture – and in the cellar, he’s got a portable wind generator; get that. Pack the campervan with anything else we’ll need from our house.”
“Where are you going?”
“Bank, mall, kids, in that order.” He was grateful Alison was old enough to drive and had her license. The best thing to do would be to leave Linda’s police car behind. When they left, he’d drive the campervan, Ali could drive the family car with the trailer, and Linda could sack out in the back of the campervan. He thought she was right; she had the virus. It remained to see how bad off she was, but if some of what the kid had suggested and Linda had added to was right, she should make it even if she were sick a while. The boy had said that having the virus made you immune, but you still had to survive it first, and most wouldn’t. Mr. Malcolm had been taken to the hospital the previous day and, he thought, wasn’t likely to make it; he could square taking the older man’s stuff with his conscience. He heard the car pull into the driveway then and his daughter’s cheerful voice.
“Tiger’s up to date. Vet says he’s a big healthy boy. I see Mom’s home.”
Linda Lefau took the heavy cat carrier, set it down, and looked at her daughter. “Sit down and listen, don’t ask questions until I’m done, and then understand we don’t have a lot of time. We act now, or we may not … well. Just listen.” Eighteen-year-old Ali listened, her eyes widening, her face going pale, but when her mother finished, she asked one question only.
“What should I do first?”
“Give Dad your PIN number and card. He’ll get your money. Help me here. If you finish before Dad gets back, I’ll want you to go and find Steve, bring him home, then get Mike. Don’t say anything of this to anyone.” She fixed Ali with a hard stare. “I mean it, no hints, nothing. If anyone asks, Uncle Mack is sick, and we’re going to see him. Got it?” Ali nodded. “Good, go now. Dad should be back in an hour and a half at the most.”
For the Lefau family, there was a concentrated effort for several hours, but by then, they had a packed car towing a packed trailer, the stolen campervan filled with supplies, gassed up and ready, and with Ali trailing the campervan, Tiger in his carrier beside her, the tiny convoy drove down their street, turned left at the end of it and headed at a little under the speed limit towards the mountains. Linda Lefau, by then, was definitely unwell. But they’d picked up items that might help, and a brief phone call to a fellow officer at the hospital told Jimmy that she’d no hope of being seen there.
They passed the outskirts of the city as he listened and relayed the information. “Gary says it’s a madhouse. A lot of the staff are off sick; they’re getting so many patients in the hospitals that they can’t even treat them. When people find that out, they’re attacking staff. He says many shops are closing early, some have been looted, the boss is calling in everyone to do overtime. I said to say I’m sorry, but I’m sick too.”
Linda nodded. “The kid was right. By the time they realize I still have the car out and come to our place, it won’t matter.”
“No.” He hoped it wouldn’t. He’d taken all the police gear from it, emptied the gas tank into spare cans, and added the riot gun along with the radio. His grandfather had been a radio enthusiast, what they called a ham. His old radio was long gone, but some of the setup remained. He could hook the police radio into it so that with luck, they’d be able to sit quietly in the cabin and listen to what was happening back home.
His mind turned to the cabin. Linda’s grandfather had bought the land when it was almost worthless, just over a hundred acres of plateau partway up a mountain and off along a single-car track. Her grandpa had built a cabin there, one that started as two rooms, expanded to four and then six with two sheds and a barn. The barn was currently filled with timber that’d been cut a year and a half ago and left to season after they’d had in the guys with a portable mill that made planking out of the logs. Nails were there, yes, and all the other things needed to extend the cabin further. In a few months, it was to have been a productive vacation as he and Linda did that; but now, it could be a lifeline.
They stopped at a small town halfway to their destination and raided a garden store for hand-gardening tools, a battery-powered cultivator, fruit tree seedlings, berry cuttings, and a few other things. They managed to stuff everything into the campervan and drove on again.
Sixteen-year-old Steve was still whining that he hadn’t been allowed to tell his friend’s family and ask them along. Twelve-year-old Mike was silent. They kept going, and by daybreak, they turned off onto the narrow road to the cabin. Linda staggered out and looked at what could be their haven, then at Jimmy and her kids.
“If it gets as bad as I was told, this’ll be our home for the rest of our lives. We’re lucky to have the place and the land and be away from the city. Jimmy, sweetheart, I guess you’ll have to take charge. I don’t think I can do much more.”
She stopped speaking abruptly, and her husband nodded. “Ali, take Tiger into your bedroom, put out his litter tray, give him food and water and let him out, and everyone’s to be careful he doesn’t go outside for a few days. Steve, Mike…” He gave the orders. Linda managed to reach the cabin, crawl onto their bed, and collapse there. He placed the medications they had on the cabinet beside her, left a filled carafe of water from the well, and started making lists. What they still needed, what they had, what they should – or shouldn’t – do.
And that was how it went from then on. In later years, Jimmy would bless his wife for her quick thinking, and she’d bless the boy she’d stopped for speeding. Jason would never know he’d saved them, and they would never know what became of him. She only hoped that wherever he was now and whatever he did, he’d lived and was happy. He deserved it.
****
With no idea of the magnitude of the good deed he’d done for one family, Jason drove on until up ahead, he saw a sprawl of cars and trucks. He pulled a hard right, slowed to a crawl, and stopped where there was room, taking out the binoculars he had on the seat beside him. One quick look, and he knew he wasn’t going to get past that lot today. There was nothing behind him, so he gambled, turned the car, and drove back in the direction he’d come from, to where, a few miles back, he’d passed a turn-off. He was watching in the rearview mirror, but no vehicles followed. He stopped some distance down the side road, picked up the map, and looked over that section.
His mom’s words rang in his ears. “When things go really bad, so do some people. When there’s no law, there are more outlaws. It becomes everyone for themselves, and if it’s them or you, they’ll kill you without hesitation. Remember that, because you may have to face the same choices, and if you do, stay alive; let them be the ones to die.”
He’d never thought his kind, gentle, doctor mom could say something like that, but she had. She’d seen his astonishment and managed a smile.
“One of the things I did just before I met your father was a rotation in Doctors Without Borders. I saw what could happen to people who wouldn’t fight back. They died, and some of them in ways that weren’t pleasant. You know where the guns are; take them and all the ammunition. Keep one on you at all times, and have one to hand in the car. If someone comes for you, don’t think about it. Just do it.”
One hand left the wheel and crept across to touch the gun that lay under maps and by the opera glasses. It was loaded, ready, and he would be ready, too, if he had to be – at least he hoped so. His grandpa had left the guns at Mom’s place last week for checking by the gunsmith. That’d been done, and he could only be thankful for both events. He saw the indications that he’d come to a small town in another mile or two, and he slowed, went around the bend, and saw it ahead.
He stopped and used the binoculars. Nothing much moved in the hot sun; there were a few people in the main street, and he could see the banners of a used car lot. He’d remembered something else his mom had said, so he drove on cautiously and took the street that would bring him to the back of the lot. He left the car locked and entered the place from a side alleyway.
A big, jovial-looking man came walking towards him, beaming, as he thrust out a hairy-backed hand.
“How are you, young man, and what can I do for you? I know, you’d like a jeep. I’ve got just the one, ex-army, so it’s genuine, hardly used, A1 condition, and a steal at the price I’m asking. Of course, it depends on how much you know about vehicles, but I guess a man like you would know what to look for…”
Jason did know what to look for. He’d seen that the man’s eyes, above the broad smile, were like cold gray pebbles. He kept his voice low and quiet; it often paid to be underestimated. “I need a small trailer, one of the ones with an automatic release from the car. You’ve got one in your lot, sir. How much?”
