Vacation

her breasts.

That is one mighty … distraction for an assistant, Christie thought.

She resisted the temptation to look over and see if Jack was watching the battle of buttons and boobs.

“Tonight’s the big fireworks…”

Ed paused for the whistles and clapping.

“Now, enjoy the rest of your meal and we’ll see you down at the lakeshore for the big show!”

She and Jack turned back to the table.

The kids had finished their meals. Servers appeared with what looked like an icy sherbet. No ice cream, with dairy being so rare, but ice probably, some sugary flavoring.

Simon grabbed a cherry-red bowl, Kate a lime-colored one.

Christie took a few more bites of the stew.

When the sherbets had also vanished, she smiled at the Blairs and the other family sitting grimly near them. She looked at Jack. “All done?”

Jack nodded, and they got up and headed out of the dining hall.

siege

25

8:46 P.M.

Night.

Everyone had gathered down at the lakeshore, all the Paterville families waiting for the fireworks to begin.

A guard, Jay Fergus, walked along the perimeter of the fence.

He thought of the kid he had chased the night before. Kids don’t get the danger that’s out there, he thought.

Fergus had seen that danger up close. Like the night the Can Heads attacked his house where he and his family used to live. Good thing he had stocked up on weapons and ammo.

Still, all that firing, the kids, his wife screaming like a crazy person behind him.

Enough to make anyone a little insane.

The bodies of the Can Heads piling up around the house, as Fergus ran from front to back, holding them off.

Like the fucking Alamo.

A few, he recognized. The old police chief, nearly unrecognizable but still with that jowly face, only with more skin sagging from his neck. His clothes tattered, spattered with red.

Fergus had initially turned down Ed Lowe’s offer.

To be penned up in here.

Taking care of guests.

But that night …

That night convinced him.

In the end, they got so close that he could barely get rounds off. A few times he had to smash the butt of his gun into their heads, sending teeth and bloody drool flying.

When it was over, Fergus stood on his porch and sobbed.

He walked back into his house a changed man.

His wife said nothing. The two little kids kept crying.

But no one said a fucking thing.

Because he was a changed man.

Now Fergus walked the well-worn trail around the perimeter of the camp. Each night the same damn thing. Soon he’d pass Billy Kemp, another guard moving in the other direction.

Billy usually with the stench of cook’s moonshine. The stuff burned like gasoline in your gullet.

The stuff worked for Billy. Cook’s booze got the job done.

Cook.

To call that fat load, the guy who used to work at—

“’Sup, dude?”

Billy appeared early. Hustling too fast along the perimeter. What good was doing this walk if you didn’t actually take the goddamn time to look at the fence?

“Nice and quiet, Billy. You?”

Same routine every night.

Billy burped. A full belly, and a good pint or so of white lightning in his gut.

He slurred the words. “Same here.”

Careful, Billy, Fergus thought. How long would Lowe let him go on like this? He might be under the radar now. Couldn’t last forever, though.

Drunk guard. Puts us all at risk.

Billy walked past him, his automatic rifle dangling loosely when Fergus knew it should be held at a 45-degree angle. Didn’t the asshole ever take any gun safety courses?

Good thing it wasn’t Billy who had stumbled upon the kid. Probably would have blown the little shit’s head off.

Then he would have made a joke.

Look, roadkill!

Fergus kept walking, looking the fence up and down. Unlikely anything would even come close. The outer fence electric, the inner fence taller, with two feet of razor ribbon at its top.

This camp is a fucking fortress.

Nobody gets in, he thought.

He heard a blast, the fireworks about to begin.

*   *   *

Tom Blair gave Jack a nudge. Everyone’s eyes turned upward, waiting.

“Want a swig?”

“My head’s still ringing from last night.”

“I hear you—stuff can be painful.”

Tom took a gulp, then nodded at the beach full of people. “It’s like the world is still the same, hm? Families, fireworks…”

Jack nodded in the dark. “Yeah. But it isn’t.”

Christie stood near Sharon, the kids close to the water’s edge. Jack enjoyed talking with Tom. Nothing about work. But he didn’t think Christie enjoyed the quiet company of his wife, Sharon.

Then, as if reading Jack’s mind, as if he had to spoil things …

“You check out the security here? I mean, being a cop and all.”