Page 190
The ripples touched. The lake stilled.
Can you hear me?
Silence. Then:
Yes, Amy.
I think that I am ready, Anthony. I think I am ready at last.
—
Michael had been waiting at the gate for nearly an hour. Where the hell was Lucius? It was nearly 1030; they were cutting it close as it was. Men were welding heavy brackets in place to lay iron beams across the gate. More were hammering sheets of galvanized roofing metal to the outside face. If Greer didn’t show up soon, they’d be locked inside like everybody else.
At last Greer appeared, striding briskly through the portal from outside. He climbed into the truck and nodded toward the windshield. “Let’s go.”
“She’s fooling herself.”
Greer gave him a look: don’t go there.
Michael turned the engine over, angled his head out the window, and yelled to the foreman of the work crew: “Coming through!” When the man failed to turn around, he leaned on the horn. “Hey! We need to get out!”
That got the foreman’s attention; he strode up to the driver’s window. “The hell you honking at me for?”
“Tell those guys to get out of the way.”
He spat onto the ground. “Nobody’s supposed to go outside. We’re working here.”
“Yeah, well, we’re different. Tell them to move or get run over. How would that be?”
The man looked like he was about to say something but stopped himself. He turned back toward the gate. “Okay, clear a path for this guy.”
“Much obliged,” Michael said.
The foreman spat again. “It’s your funeral, asshole.”
Yours, too, thought Michael.
* * *
66
1630 hours: the last of the evacuees were being moved into the dam; the hardboxes were full; the few remaining civilian inductees were awaiting their assignments. There had been a few incidents—some arrests, even a few shots fired. Yet most people saw the sense of what they were being asked to do; their own lives were on the line.
But processing the inductees was taking longer than expected. Long lines, confusion about weapons and who reported to whom, the distribution of equipment and delegation of duties: Peter and Apgar were trying to assemble an army in half a day. Some barely knew how to hold a gun, much less load and fire it. Ammo was at a premium, but a target range had been set up in the square, using sandbags as a backstop. A crash course for the uninitiated—three shots, good or bad—and off they went to the wall.
Just a few weapons remained, pistols only; the rifles were gone, except for a few that would be held in reserve. Tempers were short; everyone had been standing in the hot sun for hours. Peter was positioned to the side of the processing desk with Apgar, watching the last few men come through. Hollis was checking off names.
A man approached the desk—forties, lean in the manner of someone to whom life had not been kind, with a high, domed forehead and old acne scars on his cheeks. A hunting rifle hung from his shoulder. It took Peter a moment to recognize him.
“Jock, isn’t it?”
The man nodded—somewhat sheepishly, Peter thought. Twenty years gone by, yet Peter could tell that the memory of that day on the roof still affected him. “I don’t think I ever really thanked you, Mr. President.”
Apgar glanced at Peter. “What’d you do?”
Jock said, “He saved my life, is what he did.” Then, to Peter: “I’ve never forgotten it. Voted for you both times.”
“What became of you? No more roofs, I’ll bet.”
Jock shrugged; his regular life, like everyone’s, was receding into the past. “Worked as a mechanic, mostly. Just got married, too. My wife had a baby last night.”
Peter remembered Sara’s story. He gestured toward Jock’s rifle, a lever-action .30-30. “Let’s see your weapon.”
Jock handed it over. The action was jerky, the trigger like mush, the glass of the scope gouged and pitted.
“When was the last time you fired this?”
“Never. Got it from my dad years ago.”
Hollis looked up. “We don’t have any thirty-thirty.”
“How many rounds do you have for this?” Peter asked Jock.
The man held out his open palm, showing four cartridges, old as the hills.
“This thing is worthless. Hollis, get this man a proper rifle.”
The gun was produced: one of Tifty’s M16s, fresh and gleaming.
“A wedding present,” Peter said, passing it off to Jock. “Report to the range. They’ll get you ammo and show you how to use it.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179
- Page 180
- Page 181
- Page 182
- Page 183
- Page 184
- Page 185
- Page 186
- Page 187
- Page 188
- Page 189
- Page 190 (Reading here)
- Page 191
- Page 192
- Page 193
- Page 194
- Page 195
- Page 196
- Page 197
- Page 198
- Page 199
- Page 200
- Page 201
- Page 202
- Page 203
- Page 204
- Page 205
- Page 206
- Page 207
- Page 208
- Page 209
- Page 210
- Page 211
- Page 212
- Page 213
- Page 214
- Page 215
- Page 216
- Page 217
- Page 218
- Page 219
- Page 220
- Page 221
- Page 222
- Page 223
- Page 224
- Page 225
- Page 226
- Page 227
- Page 228
- Page 229
- Page 230
- Page 231
- Page 232
- Page 233
- Page 234
- Page 235
- Page 236
- Page 237
- Page 238
- Page 239
- Page 240
- Page 241
- Page 242
- Page 243
- Page 244
- Page 245
- Page 246
- Page 247
- Page 248
- Page 249
- Page 250
- Page 251
- Page 252
- Page 253
- Page 254
- Page 255
- Page 256
- Page 257
- Page 258
- Page 259
- Page 260
- Page 261
- Page 262
- Page 263
- Page 264
- Page 265
- Page 266
- Page 267
- Page 268
- Page 269
- Page 270
- Page 271
- Page 272
- Page 273
- Page 274
- Page 275
- Page 276
- Page 277
- Page 278
- Page 279
- Page 280
- Page 281
- Page 282
- Page 283
- Page 284
- Page 285
- Page 286