“Of course. Yes. Of course. But walk a few days in my shoes, Johnson, and you would understand how easy it is to forget, especially when you’re staring down a pandemic and now a countrywide grid down situation. I’m tackling a lot, that’s why I depend on people like yourself to remind me from time to time.” Okay, he was reaching. He knew it. Johnson knew it. “So?”
“Well, the alternative program was a different form of confinement for the low-risk offenders. It reduced overcrowding and gave these inmates a way to be productive. It was for those sentenced to 180 days or less, who had no pending case, were fit for labor, able to work one day a week, work for eight hours, had transportation, and a physical address.”
He waved his hand, getting annoyed by the waffling. “Right, right. Okay? Get to the point.”
“The point is, that’s all well and good, but most have left town.”
A frown appeared.
“Before the grid went down, we had a way to track them, enforce matters. Not now. Many are gone or…”
“Ah, I get it. You think they're responsible for the break-ins?”
He nodded. “Regardless, the number of inmates has gone up. We need to discuss releasing those that aren’t serious felons.”
“Right.” An idea came to him, a way to potentially quell the coming violence. “Isn’t one of Hank’s oldest daughters inside?”
“Nancy. Yeah. Why?”
“I think I will go and talk to her. And… uh, again, thanks, Johnson. I appreciate you bringing me up to speed. I’ll handle that and go see what I can do.”
He smiled and walked off, leaving Dan alone.
Two weeks. You can do this, Dan told himself as he looked out from the bridge downriver. He glanced up at the green hills, wondering if the Rikers had him in a crosshair. Had they been watching and relishing this moment? He exhaled hard and followed Johnson, getting away from the mountain that was infamous for murder.
FOUR Colby
Merced County
The intricate spider tattoo replayed in his mind as Colby showered beneath a solar 5-gallon shower bag. After allowing the sun to heat the contents, Jebediah had hooked it up in the bathroom on a makeshift shelf. There were several bags there, not just one. It was clever. How many would have given thought to do that when faced with a grid-down situation? As the warm water rushed over him, circling his feet, he grappled with the unknown.
Stepping out of the shower, he looked in the mirror, wondering if seeing his face might bring back a memory, but it didn’t. He looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a pro boxer. While there was no longer any swelling, time couldn’t hide the sickly bruising covering his back, legs, and arms. His cut lip, and the laceration on his left cheek was healing nicely but it was still noticeable. He’d taken one hell of a beating. He opened his mouth and noticed that all his teeth were there. He figured they would at least be cracked. Whoever had done this could have easily killed him outright. Why hadn’t they? Why had they stopped short and left him for dead? It was almost like they wanted him to be found or endure a long, painful death.
The only upside was that his bones didn’t feel broken even though his ribs were black and blue. Without an X-ray, it was impossible to know if he had any hairline fractures. Right now the meds were masking pain.
Standing naked before a pile of neat clothes, he caught his reflection in the mirror again. His beard had grown wild and unruly. He ran a hand through it.
He looked like a broken man, a stranger.
Colby reached into the medicine cabinet and took out a pair of small scissors, and began to hack away at the wiry growth.
Later, when he entered the kitchen wearing the clothes of the Mannings’ son, his face was smooth, clean-shaven. He felt awkward. Out of place. It all felt wrong.
Conversation stopped. The clatter of cutlery ceased. Carol paused, scraping fruit from a plate, her eyes bore into him.
“Ah, they fit,” she said.
He pulled at the blue jean shirt that felt tight. “Yeah. I guess.”
“I see the beard is gone.”
He ran a hand over his jaw.
“Take a seat,” Jebediah said, gesturing to the end of the table. They were all around a rectangular wooden table in the middle of a stone floor kitchen. The aroma of instant coffee filled the air. Jenna was across the table, a piece of toast in her mouth, eyes locked on him. She grinned, and that brought a smile to his face. Carol had cooked everything using a portable stove and left one of the windows open to allow a cool breeze to blow through the house. Colby pulled out a chair.
“I appreciate all you’ve done for me,” he said.
“You are more than welcome,” Carol replied. “It was the right thing to do. God would have us do it. Tell me…” she sounded as if she wanted to say his name. “Do you believe in God?”
Both of his eyebrows rose. “That’s a loaded question.”
“But a simple one,” she replied.
“Probably… if I could remember.”
Jenna chuckled.
Jebediah touched Carol’s arm and shook his head as if cautioning her. It wouldn’t have started an argument because his mind felt like a fresh slate. There were no preconceived ideas, no formed beliefs. It was as if he’d been reborn and was seeing the world through untainted eyes.
That morning they ate scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit. Carol told him she made her own bread, they had several orange trees, and the eggs came from the hen house. For a world that was struggling, they appeared to be taking this in stride.
“Would you mind passing the water, Jebediah?” Colby said.
He moved it in front of him.
“Call me Jeb.”
Over breakfast, Jeb had promised to take him out to the field to show him where they found him, to see if it
