This was what happened when you didn’t spend enough time at the firing range, he admonished himself. He spun and waded through the deep snow on his way back to the house. That was when he realized the thieves had taken more than Lauren’s truck. They’d made off with a sizeable amount of his remaining woodpile.
He cursed loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear him. Once inside, Amy closed the door. Lauren and the others were up and gathered around them. Not a surprise really, given he’d emptied a magazine at her fleeing truck.
“What’s going on?” Lauren asked, pulling the edges of the knitted shawl she wore over her shoulders.
Nate moved swiftly past them without saying a word, the legs of his pajamas wet and leaving droplets of water in his wake. He headed straight for the office where he kept the gun safe. He was a firm, almost fanatical advocate of storing weapons safely. He’d seen what could happen when the awesome power of firearms wasn’t respected. Which made it all the more surprising that he was about to break his own cardinal rule—never carry loaded weapons in the house. Even the pistol in his night table hadn’t been loaded. The distinction was a small one, but a distinction nonetheless.
Now, after what had just happened, he saw that it wasn’t desperation that pushed people to turn on one another. It was opportunity. The men who had come to his house to steal his things weren’t starving, not a mere twenty-four hours after the power went out. And as Nate had noted yesterday, there were plenty of trees to go around for anyone willing to get an axe and start swinging. No, these men were thugs, parasites who made their living off of others’ hard work. Why chop a tree and go through all that effort when you could roll up and steal the finished product? Nate had known, had even been warned, that such people existed and that they’d be coming, but somehow he’d convinced himself living out here in the country bought him an extra day or two.
What had also become clear from his encounter was that a pair of pistols just wasn’t going to cut it. Neither would a single shotgun, not at range. For now, however, it was all they had. Nate fed double-aught buck shells into the Remington, ensuring the safety was engaged.
He heard shouting on his way back to the living room. Lauren had just discovered her truck was gone. But her voice wasn’t the one Nate heard. It was Hunter’s.
“My iPad!” Hunter wailed in despair a second time, before becoming noticeably silent, as though he had suddenly realized he ought to keep his mouth shut.
“Did they break into the house?” Emmitt asked.
Hunter slumped onto the couch and buried his head under a pillow.
Lauren and Amy were completely confused, but Nate thought he understood what had happened. “Hunter, you asked me yesterday if I would let you charge your iPad in my truck and I told you no.”
Lauren’s eyes flared with sudden understanding. “Was that why you asked for the keys? You said you were going to grab something you forgot. Hunter, I’m talking to you.”
His face reappeared, filled now with guilt. “The battery was running low and I wanted to charge it. I know there’s no internet, but all my songs are…”
It was all starting to make far too much sense. “So you went out to charge the device you’re still addicted to, even though it’s practically useless. And let me guess, you left the car unlocked since you figured you’d be heading back to grab it anyway.”
Hunter nodded with slow, painful reluctance.
“You didn’t leave the keys in the car, too, did you?” his mother asked. “’Cause I don’t see them anywhere in my purse.”
“I don’t remember.”
Lauren glared at her son. When a ten-year-old said they didn’t remember, it was about as close to a confession as you were gonna get. She was on the cusp of laying into him when a knock came at the door.
With one hand on the pistol in his waistband, Nate approached the door and saw it was Carl, wide-eyed.
He let his neighbor in. Carl’s pants were caked with snow from the thigh down to his boots. He removed the knitted cap he was wearing and slapped it against his leg. “I heard shooting and came as soon as I could.” The old man was out of breath and brandishing a military-issue Colt .45, the same service weapon he’d used during two tours of Vietnam, in ’66 and ’67.
Nate invited him in. “We’re about to start on some breakfast if you care to join us. Getting busy might help to settle everyone’s nerves.”
“Very kind of you,” Carl said, putting the gun away and hanging up his jacket. “But I promised the missus I’d make her favorite this morning. Eggs Benedict. That being said, how well the Hollandaise sauce turns out using the fireplace stove top may be a different story.”
Nate let out a hearty laugh, appreciating the much-needed release of tension.
After greeting the others, Carl turned to Nate. “Is there anywhere we can talk?”
“Of course. Let’s go to my office.”
Amy and Lauren were already heading to the kitchen to start breakfast. Emmitt wasn’t far behind. Hunter, however, sat on the couch, a pained expression on his face. He looked like a wounded puppy. If he was hoping to evoke any sympathy for what he’d done, it wasn’t going to come from Nate. “There are three people heading to the kitchen to help make breakfast. Everyone needs to step up, now more than ever.”
“Okay,” Hunter said, pushing himself up off the couch, his slippered feet whispering along the wood floor as he went past them.
“Not easy being a kid nowadays,” Carl commented once Hunter was out of earshot.
“Really?” Nate replied, a little shocked by the comment. “I’d say it was quite the opposite.”
“From a comfort point of view, you have a point,” his neighbor conceded. “But the pressure they’re under nowadays, neither of us had anything comparable. My son David says his little boy is already working on his college application strategy. The kid’s at least a year younger than Hunter. And didn’t you say your nephew has a website with a million followers?”
“A YouTube channel, yeah.”
Both men shook their head.
“I don’t remember having a million of anything when I was his age.” Carl released a wet gale of laughter. “But seriously, think of it, Nate. He’s still a kid and he’s got a business that makes nearly as much as his dad. There’s something unnatural about that. He needs a firm hand, no doubt about that, but maybe also a little understanding.”
A slow smile spread over Nate’s weathered features. “Be careful now, you’re starting to sound like my wife.”
That laugh again, followed by a pat on Nate’s shoulder. “Hate to tell you, Nate, but in the smarts and looks department, Amy’s got you beat.”
Nate nodded. “Can’t argue there.”
Nate scooped up the shotgun and the two men headed to the office. They passed the kitchen and living room when everyone else was busy preparing breakfast.
“If anyone sees anything unusual,” Nate told them as he passed by, “anything at all, you holler out and let someone know.”
Hunter and Emmitt stopped what they were doing and nodded.
Chapter 15
Nate closed the office door behind him and set the shotgun down inside the safe, but made sure to leave it ajar.
“The reason I wanted to meet again was that since your visit last night, I spent some time on the shortwave radio, reaching out for people in the area. Seems some parts of the local government are still attempting to hold things together. Managing the town’s response to the dangers posed by the nuclear plant has been one of their top concerns.”
“Excelsior Energy has a whole special team there now,” Nate said, wondering where all of this was going. “I don’t see how a bunch of local bureaucrats can help.”