Survival Rules Series (Book 4): Rules of Engagement Page 4

  Given the right connections within government, Jude could have seen her rising through the ranks in an attempt to have a hand in the leading of the country. Unable to do that, she sought other means, which had brought them to this situation. How she’d pulled it off was a mystery not even he could extract from her. Who she’d contacted and what she’d offered was unknown. Jude was just along for the ride, like everyone else. But that was enough for him. Just being in her sphere was more than enough. Oh, he’d had women throw themselves at him but that always came off as desperate. Dianna never threw herself at him. Although Andy believed he’d gone behind his back and seduced his wife, it was the other way around. He knew sleeping with her was wrong. He knew that it would destroy his friendship with Andy but that all went by the wayside when she got under his skin.

  Jude got up from the bed and crossed the room to pour some coffee. He could hear Thomas talking with her in the next room. Their voices were muffled with Thomas’ getting louder by the second. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and he marched out, his face sour.

  “Just do as I say,” Dianna said following behind him.

  He exited but not before glaring one more time at Jude. He could feel the resentment dripping off him. He pressed her regarding what he wanted but she wouldn’t give a clear answer, all she would say was Thomas was struggling.

  “You can only push them so hard, Dianna. If I have learned anything from Camp Olney, it is that trust cannot be demanded, it’s earned and that’s the difference between Andy and myself. He’s earned it.”

  She scoffed. “You know the problem with you, Jude, is you are too self-depreciating. Self-loathing is not attractive,” she said, brushing past him and collecting her things.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I have work to do.”

  “This work of yours that’s always drawing you away. When are you going to share it with me?”

  “In time. In time.”

  “That’s what you keep saying,” he said leaning against a table. “Meanwhile I have to hold down the fort without you when you should be standing beside me, governing these people together.” He grabbed her by the arm before she left. “I need you, Dianna.”

  She smiled and tapped the front of his chest with her index finger. “That’s the difference between you and me. I don’t.” Without saying another word she walked out, self-assured and confident, her face once again hidden by the hood. Had he not been utterly spellbound by her, he had a good mind to pull the hood back and end her ridiculous reign of mystery. But he didn’t. The door closed, and he stood there feeling less of a man, and more like a puppet in her wild game.

  Ferris slept for the better part of the day monitored by the camp’s two doctors. Andy had remained by his bedside, eager to know who had stabbed him and taken Hudgens’ life. With the camp on high alert, there was little more to be done than wait. Andy flipped through some old blueprints Edison had drawn up, improvements to the camp that he’d developed a while back. It would make the place safer, and make travel between the forest, nearby towns and the camp easier by way of tunnels. It was the reason Andy had recruited him in the first place. He was an innovator, someone who could take ideas and bring them to life. He saw opportunities when others only complained about problems. It was never a matter of if something could be done, only how. And if he initially couldn’t figure it out, he would eventually find a way.

  Edison had proposed to create two tunnels, one from Andy’s dome fissuring out to the forest, and if that held up, then creating one more that would get them closer to the town of Whitefish. Construction of longer tunnels than the typical escape hatch that the domes had would have been a hell of a lot easier when there was electricity but they were constrained by budget back then. Now, the way he saw it, it was only a matter of time and they had plenty of that. Andy thumbed some paper and wasn’t looking at Ferris when he woke out of his pain haze, his eyelids fluttering.

  “Water,” Ferris croaked out.

  Andy glanced his way, tossed the paper down and quickly crossed the room to get him a cup of water. When he returned, he brought it to his lips, and Ferris gulped it down, some of it trickling out the corner of his mouth. “Slow down,” Andy said, removing it and setting the cup on a table beside his bed. “Nurse,” he yelled. Quickly, Petra, one of the nurses, came in with the doc and checked his vitals. They said they would return later with more pain medication. Once they were gone, Andy leaned forward in his seat waiting for Ferris to speak.

  “What happened?”

  He swallowed hard and looked around. “Militia. Some group has swarmed the town,” he said before taking another large breath. Every time he spoke, he winced in pain. Andy told him to take it slow. “One of them was an escaped inmate from Gabriel’s original group. He brought them here. He must have been keeping tabs on the town for a time after he escaped that night at the hospital. He knows about the camp. Here I mean.”

  “You tell them?” Corey asked, appearing in the doorway. Andy glanced at him as he entered.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Chief Bruce did.”

  “That bastard,” Andy said, balling his hands. “Why they ever put him in that position is beyond me.”

  “He did it to protect the council,” Ferris said. “They were going to execute all of us.”

  “Oh, well that makes it all better,” Corey replied, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “So why did he send you?”

  “Because of Bill Pope.”

  “Who?”

  “The one that escaped from the hospital. He was the one who brought them here.”

  “He did? Or you did?” Corey asked.

  “Corey,” Andy piped up.

  “Ah, I’m just saying. Pope could have been dead had Ferris and his men done their job.”

  Andy raised a finger and then tapped Ferris on the arm. “Rest up. I’ll be back shortly.” He got up, crossed the room, took a hold of Corey’s arm and forcefully led him out, a good distance from the medical area.

  “Get off me.”

  Andy held his forearm tightly as he pulled him around into one of the small alleys between the grassy domes. “This is not the time for you to start an argument.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Yeah, well don’t. Okay. If you can’t be around the man without picking apart everything he says or does, then maybe you should find something else to do. Right now he is the only source of information for what is happening, and what might happen. You want to screw that up?”

  “He might be the only source. But that only matters if what he’s telling us is true. And I for one don’t believe a single thing that comes out of his mouth. For all we know, this might be just some elaborate trap.”

  Andy released his grip on his arm and scoffed. “A trap? You think he stabbed himself? Oh son, I raised you better than that. Don’t be stupid.”

  “People go to great lengths to protect themselves. What’s to say that he didn’t strike up some bargain with Jude and his group? You know, some kind of immunity if he drew us away to Whitefish? Think about it. Divided we are weaker.”

  “Our scouts have had Jude under surveillance for a month. They would have seen Ferris enter the camp,” Andy said.

  “C’mon dad, you know there are many ways into that camp.”

  Andy narrowed his eyes. He understood where he was going with this and it would have been easy to suspect Ferris of going behind their backs to secure his own safety but call it a gut instinct, he didn’t think this was some elaborate ploy to draw them out. He knew Jude better than that.

  Corey shook his head. “All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t buy everything anyone tells us until we can confirm it ourselves.” He turned to walk away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To confirm it. I’m taking Tyler with me.”

  “Corey.”

  He didn’t answer but kept on walking. A few people in the camp noticed the commotion between them. Andy smile
d and gave a nod, not wanting to give them a reason for concern but perhaps it was too late. The last thing he needed was the camp losing confidence in him. Andy sighed and returned to speak with Ferris.

  4

  It was utterly humiliating. Chief Bruce and the rest of the city council were thrown into the same holding cells used for those who’d committed crimes in the city. He might not have cared had there been a window or adequate space but it was a temporary holding facility for those who weren’t bonded out, or released on their own recognizance. More often than not, those arrested were transported to Flathead County Detention Center, and he knew that place was no longer being manned since the blackout. He was sharing a cell with three others, and with one bed and one steel toilet, the smell was atrocious. He sat in the corner of the room looking despondently at the slop they’d given them. He couldn’t tell if it was a meat smoothie, or something they’d scooped out of the sewers. It reeked. His stomach grumbled as he picked at it with a spoon. Across from him, Tully Warren sat with his head in his hands trying to get some shut-eye; to the left, Arthur Thompson tapped his finger against his leg looking into space. However, it was Greg Macleod that had him worried. He’d been pacing for hours, mumbling under his breath and every so often slamming his fist against the door and demanding to be let out.

  “Sit down, Greg,” Bruce said. “You’ll only incite them.”

  “Incite. I would rather be dead than stuck in here and treated like a common criminal.” He proceeded to bang the door again. “You know we have rights. I have rights!”

  Bruce was about to get up and make him sit down when the door unlocked. Two soldiers entered. “Who’s making all the noise?”

  “Me. I want out of here. You can’t do this to us. I am a city council member. I have a right to…”

  Before he finished, they grabbed him and dragged him out. Bruce rose to his feet to protest but after having the barrel of a gun shoved in his face, he backed off. As the door closed behind them, they heard the sound of Greg being viciously beaten with batons. His cries for mercy were soon silenced with a final thud before what sounded like his feet dragging across the floor as they no doubt removed his broken body.

  Stupid, stupid, why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut? Bruce thought.

  Tully looked at Bruce and grimaced. No words were exchanged. There was no telling if they would ever see Greg again or if the same fate awaited them. For hours he’d been racking his brain on how to escape but even if they could get out, how would they get past Hopkins’ men? There were too many.

  Minutes turned into hours and when someone finally spoke it was Tully.

  “Why did you tell them about the camp?”

  Bruce looked at him and noticed Tully was running his finger over his wedding ring.

  “Because for all the differences I’ve had with Andy Ford, I know if anyone can help, it would be him.”

  “But you’ve essentially put a target on their backs.”

  Bruce snorted and shook his head. “No, I just saved them. You see, if I hadn’t said anything, eventually he, Corey or some of the others from the camp would have made their way in, and they would be in the same predicament as we are. Now what use is that to us? At least this way, they will get the heads-up and perhaps, just maybe they’ll figure out a way to help.”

  “Help. Right.”

  “There are more than enough of them,” Bruce said.

  “That’s not what I heard the last time I spoke with Andy.”

  Bruce frowned, slightly confused. In the past month he had to admit, he hadn’t seen much of Andy. He had visited the town only once, and that was brief.

  “He said that a large chunk of the camp went elsewhere. They have maybe sixty or seventy people,” Tully said.

  “And from what I saw, there was more militia than that out there,” Arthur added.

  Bruce studied both of them. He could see where this was heading.

  “If I said nothing, he would have killed all of us,” Bruce said.

  “Then why are we still alive?”

  “Leverage,” Bruce replied to Arthur. “You always need an ace in your back pocket. Anyone with a lick of sense knows that no matter how many men they have behind them, they would want something they could use in a bind. That’s us.”

  “An exchange?” Tully asked.

  He shrugged.

  “But is he aware of Andy Ford’s dislike for this town?”

  “No, and we intend to keep it that way.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  “What if it’s not an exchange? What if…”

  Bruce rose to his feet and placed a hand on Tully’s shoulder. “Don’t even go there. We are getting out of this. Okay? We didn’t come this far to fall now.” He sighed and was about to share another idea with them both when the door unlocked and the same two soldiers appeared. Bruce noticed blood on their fatigues. “You. Let’s go!” the largest one said.

  Bruce pointed to himself. “Me?”

  “Yeah,” he grabbed him and hauled him out. This was it. As soon as the door closed, they would inflict the same punishment on him as Greg. Years of policing Whitefish and he was about to die in his own station.

  “Look, guys, we can talk about this.”

  “Just keep moving.”

  He frowned, noticing they were more intent on him heading down the hallway. Nervous but glad to not be on the tail end of a baton, he did as he was instructed. They led him up the stairs and towards his office at the far corner of the department. In the main office, where his officers would usually be working, militia members were drinking beer and putting their feet up on desks. Someone had smashed each of the computer screens and tossed a computer so hard against the drywall that it had left behind a large bowl-shaped indent.

  Within minutes he was presented before Hopkins who was sitting in his leather chair behind Bruce’s desk, and from the looks of it, drinking his bourbon. He was hunched over a plate of fish and rice. The cutlery scraped against the plate as he ate in a sloppy manner.

  “Thank you, guys. That will be all.”

  The door closed behind him.

  Hopkins jabbed his butter knife towards the seat.

  “Sit.”

  Bruce knew better than to go against his wishes. He slumped down and sat there for a second watching him shovel food into his trap. He looked behind him and out the window to try and get a better view of what was taking place outside. His concern was for the community. Even after the blackout that hadn’t changed. It was ingrained in him to protect and uphold the law.

  “How long have you been chief?”

  “A long time,” Bruce replied.

  He nodded slowly, eyeing Bruce as he took a swig of his drink.

  “You know, I admire what you did today. I get it. I really do. Going to bat for your community. That’s the sign of a good leader.” He finished his food and then reached into the drawer beside him and pulled out a box of cigars. “You want one?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  Hopkins shrugged. “I could use a person like you. We’re going to be here a while and I certainly could make things go smoothly, if you know what I mean.”

  “What do you want?” Bruce asked, trying to cut to the chase. “I mean, if it’s just resources, you can find those in any number of towns throughout the country. Why here? Why now?”

  “Why not?” he shot back. “Why do anything? I choose to. This is a very different country now. I know there are folks out there that believe Canada or Europe will come to our aid but do you honestly think that’s going to happen without a war?” Bruce frowned, confused by his reply, so Hopkins continued. “There are those in this country who have been desperate for change. I’m not talking about a new president, a better health care system or reduced debt. I’m speaking about freedom. Real freedom. None of this crap they pretend we have. We have been nothing but puppets on a string singing an anthem that lost its roots a long time ago.” He took a cigar and cut the end off and proceed
ed to turn it as he scorched the end. His face disappeared behind a huge plume of gray smoke. Hopkins waved smoke out of his face and leaned forward. “No. This is an opportunity for a clean slate. Right now the power of this nation is back in the hands of the people. The question is, which people?” He paused. “Do you know there are over one thousand hate groups active in America? You can be damned sure they are seeing the opportunity. No transportation. No communication. No government to deal with. The question, is who will rise up first and take control?”

  “Is that what this is about? Control?”

  He laughed as he sat back in his seat. “You say it as if you’re surprised. As if it’s new. It’s always been about control. Even before the blackout. It’s just there were laws in place to govern who controlled the masses.”

  He eyed him with a smirk on his face as if he was relishing his newfound position of power.

  “Where is Greg?” Bruce asked.

  “Who?”

  “You know full well.”

  He took another puff, glanced at the cigar. “Greg is fine. He’ll come around just like you all will. For some it will take a little more convincing but we are more than ready to do that. The question is, are you on board or do you need to join Greg?”

  Bruce chuckled. “So that’s how you intend to take control. Harming others. You know, that only gets you so far. Fear, I mean. People might fall in line but they won’t forget and when you think they have your back, it will be too late.”

  “Is that a threat?” Hopkins asked.

  “I have seen many people take positions of power and use fear as way to control others. It doesn’t work in the long run. It’s a short-term game. That’s all I’m saying.”

  He nodded.

  “You know, you didn’t have to kill Hudgens.”