The Survivalist (Frontier Justice)

Mason met back up with his deputies at the police station about an hour after his confrontation with Rommel. They sat around the briefing table, drinking tap water from Styrofoam cups.

  Coon raised a cup to his nose and sniffed the water.

  “Seems clean enough. I guess we should be thankful.”

  “Yeah,” said Vince, “thankful.” He looked over at the empty coffeepot. “Marshal, any idea when they’re going to have electricity back on? I could really use a cup of coffee.”

  “It could be some time. Weeks, months, or even longer.”

  “That’s a long time to go without a cup of coffee on the job,” said Chief Blue. “We may have to build a fire pit or some other way to boil water here at the office. With hot water, we could make our own percolator of sorts. Men can be clever when coffee’s on the line.”

  Without another word, Mason unplugged the coffeemaker and filled it with water from the tap. He grabbed a packet of coffee and carried everything out to his truck. When he returned, his hands were empty.

  “You letting the Sun work some magic on the coffee, Marshal?” asked Don.

  “Actually, I have an inverter out in my truck. It runs off a couple of spare lead-acid batteries in the back. Give it a few minutes, and we’ll have hot coffee.”

  “Serious?” said Coon. “Marshal, don’t joke about something like that.”

  “Only the best for those helping to keep me alive.”

  “I’m just glad we didn’t have to shoot anyone today,” said Don. “I had them in my sights though, just as you instructed. If it had gone south, I could have dropped two of them pretty quick.”

  “I had the other two,” said Vince.

  Mason turned to Coon.

  “If they were covering the four gunmen outside, who were you targeting?”

  “Marshal, sir, I had the fellow with the big orange target on his chest.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be a crack shot.”

  “I am,” he said, confidently. “That fellow was awful skinny. I would’ve had to hit him right in the zipper to make sure he took a bullet.”

  Mason chuckled. “I see.”

  “You think they’ll leave?” asked Chief Blue.

  “No, I think they’ll wait for us to come again.”

  “Not to question your leadership, Marshal,” said Don, “but is that really the best strategy? When we show up in twenty-four hours, they’ll be ready.”

  “Who says we’re going to show up in twenty-four hours?” The others sat up and looked at Mason.

  “But you said … Ah, I get it,” Don said, grinning. “We’re going to let them sweat it out. Then when they figure we didn’t have the nerve, we’ll move on them.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe we’ll just pick them off one at a time. When their numbers get low enough, they’ll skip out in the middle of the night.”

  “I like the idea of keeping them on their back foot,” said Vince. As he said the words, he caught himself staring over at Don’s prosthetic leg.

  Don saw him too and grinned.

  “Just to be safe, we should keep an eye on them,” said Mason.

  “We could do it in shifts,” offered Chief Blue.

  “I’ll go first,” volunteered Vince.

  “And I’ll relieve you tonight,” the chief said. “My wife won’t like it, but I don’t sleep much anyway.”

  “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” said Don. “We can use the radios to stay in touch.”

  “If they’re still around tomorrow, I’m happy to take a shift, too,” said Coon.

  Mason glanced at his watch and smiled.

  “It’s coffee time.”

  “Come on, this is worth seeing,” Ava said, pulling on Mason’s arm with one hand and carrying a folded blanket with the other. She led him up a long grassy hill located on the outskirts of town.

  The sun was still shining, although it was getting late in the day. Bowie ran huge circles around them, occasionally dropping to roll around in the tall grass like a pig enjoying fresh mud. It was as nice a spring day as Mason could remember.

  When they got to the top of the hill, Ava let him go and wrapped her arms around a huge Northern Red Oak.

  “This is it,” she said with unmistakable pride. “Well?”

  Mason wasn’t sure exactly what to say. It was a perfectly fine tree, standing nearly one hundred feet tall and measuring three feet across. But there were thousands of similar trees in forests all around.

  “It’s … really great.”

  “You’re a terrible liar,” she laughed. “Come take a look.”

  Mason moved up beside her. On the trunk were carvings of names and initials, most of them surrounded by hearts. She ran her fingers over one that read, Jon loves Ava.

  “My first love,” she said. “Jon Singer. We were only sixteen when he carved that.”

  Mason smiled. Everyone had a first love, and they were never forgotten.

  “Did you bring me here to make me jealous?”

  “Yes.” She winked. “Is it working?”

  “Of course. So, what happened between you two?”

  “The usual stuff. Jon moved off to play college football in Tennessee, and I went off to medical school. He married a lovely cheerleader, and they even invited me to their wedding. They have two boys.” Her smile faded. “I wonder if his family is even alive. Those beautiful little boys…”

  He put his arm around her.

  She turned, rose up on tip toes, and kissed him on the lips.

  Mason looked into Ava’s eyes and saw a deep longing. Not just for him, but for a rock to hold onto. He pulled her tightly against him and kissed her, tasting the sweetness of her lips. They stood beside the tree, kissing for several minutes, enjoying the heat of one another’s body and the intimacy of their first real touch.

  Ava finally pulled away.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  “Ava…”

  “You don’t have to mean it. Just tell me.” She closed her eyes, hoping to hear the words.

  Mason raised his hands and cradled her soft face. He leaned in very close and kissed her gently.

  “I love you, Ava. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Your spirit is filled with generosity and kindness, and it is truly my honor to hold you in my arms.”

  She opened her eyes, and small tears glistened.

  “Thank you. That was really nice.”

  “Ava, I felt my heart stir when I first laid eyes on you.”

  “Now I know you’re lying,” she said, laughing. “When we first met in the church, I was a complete mess from working all morning.”

  “No,” he said, “you were radiant and real, and every person felt the kindness in your heart. Father Paul would say that’s the reason you were spared. And in this case, I would have to agree with him.”

  She blushed, taking his hands in hers.

  “You’re … wonderful. If God spared me because of my kindness, he surely spared you because of your strength. My father would have said you are the point of the spear that others depend on in their most difficult hour.”

  “Point of the spear?”

  “He used that expression from time to time to describe brave men who were willing to do difficult things when others couldn’t.”

  He kissed her again, feeling the soft press of her breasts against his chest.

  “What I want to know,” he teased, “is what exactly I have to do to get my name on this tree.”

  “We’ll think of something,” she whispered. She pulled away and started unfolding the blanket on the soft grass. When it was smooth, she lay down and stared up at him. Her skirt had partially opened, and one voluptuous leg protruded from underneath. “Will you share this moment with me, Marshal Raines?”

  Mason stood speechless. In all his years, he couldn’t remember a woman who looked more beautiful than Ava did lying on the blanket. It was as if Aphrodite herself was summoning him, and as a mere mortal, he had no hope of resisting her call.
r />   He slipped off his jacket and hung it over a limb of the tree.

  “If I said no, there isn’t a man alive who would forgive me.”

  Ava and Mason lay on the blanket, completely naked, curled up against one another like two sleeping lions. Bowie rested at their feet, eying squirrels in the tree above them.

  “I’m hungry,” she said in a sleepy voice.

  “You should be,” he laughed.

  She raised up on one elbow and punched him softly on the shoulder.

  “Me? You’re the one who wanted do-overs.”

  “What can I say? Once wasn’t enough.”

  “And twice?”

  “Barely.”

  They both laughed and kissed again. Mason ran his hands down her stomach and along her hips.

  “I have a truck bed full of food. We could build a little fire and pretend we’re pioneers.”

  “That sounds nice,” she sighed, “but I was thinking that maybe we should go check to see how Betty is doing over at the university. Her soup kitchen is supposed to be up and running.”

  “That’s a great idea. There’s only one problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulled her close, feeling the heat of her body.

  “We’d have to put on clothes.”

  She kissed him. “Well, I do. You could always go as you are, but it would give that ‘point of the spear’ thing a whole new meaning.”

  A large crowd had gathered on the front lawn of the university’s cafeteria. Scores of people were coming and going, and while the scene was busy, it was also relaxed. No one was shoving or grabbing; everyone seemed quite willing to wait their turn.

  Mason pulled his truck up on the grass, and he and Ava climbed out. Bowie had been relegated to ride in the bed of the truck, but he didn’t seem to mind. As they walked up the steep grassy hill toward the cafeteria, several people offered friendly greetings.

  They sidestepped a line of more than forty people and entered the university’s cafeteria. A procession of volunteer servers worked a food line much like that found at a Salvation Army during the holidays. The meal consisted of meat and vegetable stew, bread, and some kind of pudding. The stew was heated in a large pot on a burner fueled by portable tanks of propane.

  When Betty saw them, she wiped her hands on her apron and hurried over. “Marshal, Ava, it’s nice to see you both. What do you think?” she asked, an unmistakable look of pride on her face.

  “It’s wonderful,” exclaimed Ava. She touched Betty on the arm. “This will bring life back to our community.”

  Mason nodded his agreement. “Very impressive. I see you’ve managed to use propane tanks to cook.”

  “Yes, we figured out how to transfer the propane from large tanks to the smaller, portable ones. So, assuming we don’t blow ourselves up, we can keep this going for quite some time.”

  “What about the bread? Do you have a propane oven, too?”

  “I wish. Unfortunately, the cafeteria’s ovens operate on natural gas, which was shut off weeks ago. I’m hoping that we can talk about that at the next town council meeting. If we can get the natural gas back up and running, we’d really be set. For now, we’re baking the bread in a large pottery kiln over in the art department.”

  “Very clever.”

  “Speaking of food, you two look hungry. Can I get you some of my homemade stew? It’s pretty good if I say so myself.”

  “Yes, please,” said Ava. “I think the marshal here has worked up quite an appetite.”

  Mason grinned. “Indeed, I have.”

  Ava gave him a playful wink, and then turned to Betty.

  “I’ll come with you and help. I know you’re busy.”

  As they left to get the food, Mason saw Father Paul enjoying his dinner at one of the tables.

  “Father,” he said, taking a seat across from him.

  “Marshal Raines, do you see the miracle that Betty has pulled off? She’s a saint, I tell you.”

  “It is quite something.”

  “How did it go with Rommel?”

  “Time will tell.”

  Father Paul finished mopping up his last bit of stew with a hunk of bread and stuffed it in his mouth.

  “Umm, good,” he said. “I hope you’re having some.”

  “Ava’s getting it.” At the thought of some warm food, he felt his stomach start to growl.

  “You and the doctor? You’re a couple now?”

  Mason thought about it for a moment.

  “Yes, I suppose we are.”

  “She’s quite lovely. She must see something special in you.”

  “My good fortune,” Mason said, thinking about the past few hours he had spent with her.

  “Perhaps finding love is a reward for your good deeds.”

  “I haven’t done anything yet, Father.”

  “Look around, my son. This is as much your doing as anyone’s. Before you arrived, the town was struggling, not only to stay alive but to find any sort of hope or faith. Now we have food, water, and maybe even safety before too long.”

  Mason surveyed the room. Nearly every person was smiling and talking, enjoying not only the food but also the company of their neighbors.

  “This is Betty’s doing. I only helped to get things moving.”

  “You were the catalyst. Without the spark, there is no fire.”

  Before Mason could say another word, Ava approached, carrying two bowls of stew with large slices of bread poking out the top. She set a bowl in front of Mason and sat down beside him.

  “Good evening, Father,” she beamed.

  “Ava, you look absolutely radiant.”

  “Thank you, I feel … radiant.” She laughed and leaned lightly against Mason. “Who would have thought it possible, given the circumstances.”

  “We’ve all been given a second chance to see the world anew,” said Father Paul. “Let’s hope that we can remember the lesson even after the suffering has passed.”

  The three of them engaged in a long conversation about everything and nothing. It was the first time in weeks that anyone had been able to relax long enough to let the unimportant matter. When it became clear that others were waiting for seats, they stood and made their way out of the cafeteria. Before Mason left, he retrieved a second bowl of stew and carried it outside.

  “You really were hungry,” Ava teased, knowing full well that the food was not for him.

  He whistled, and Bowie came lumbering up the hill, his thick fur waving along his back like the spikes of the mythical Chupacabra. Mason put the bowl down on the ground, and Bowie didn’t wait for an invitation to start devouring Betty’s homemade stew.

  By the time Mason and Ava arrived at the hospital, it was nearly nine in the evening. She explained that, when the virus hit, most of the hospital’s patients had died, and those that didn’t were evacuated to less crowded surroundings. Since then, the hospital had become a volunteer-run urgent care center, similar to those set up in foreign countries by visiting doctors. Doctors and nurses now came and went as their time and needs allowed. After their day out, Ava planned to work until early the next morning. She promised to see him again the following day, after she’d had a chance to rest.

  Once he was sure that Ava was safe, Mason cruised around Boone in his truck for a couple of hours. He told himself that he needed to patrol the streets, but the truth was he also wanted to clear his head. There was no denying that his day with Ava had been wonderful. Their lovemaking was exciting and intimate, and she was as emotionally interested in him as he was in her.

  The difficulty came from the suddenness of it all. Plans that had once been clear were now like ink on a wet page. When things were eventually tied up in Boone, his intention had been to seek out the Marshal Service and offer his hand in establishing order. He also needed to find out what had happened to his mother and father. Each of these would require his leaving Boone, and he wasn’t sure how well Ava would take the news. She was clearly vulnerable and afraid, and
he didn’t want to leave her feeling betrayed.

  By the end of his patrol, Mason had resigned himself to stop over-thinking the situation and simply let things evolve at their own natural pace. When the time was right, he would pursue his duties, as he knew he must. Until then, he would enjoy the time he had been given with Ava. In the end, she would either understand or she wouldn’t, and they would part with kisses or with tears.

  With a newfound clarity, Mason decided to call it a night. He turned up King Street and headed for his makeshift quarters at the Church of the Fallen Saints.

  Chapter 20