When they would reach this area was unknown.
Cathy, who’d been waiting for his return, fell in step, her arms full of paperwork.
“Pastor Hale wanted me to let you know they are running low on bottled water, they also need more medicine for the elderly and the nursing homes.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes, you have two visitors.”
His brow furrowed. “Please tell me it’s not a Strickland or a Riker.”
“No. They didn’t give their names but said they knew you.”
“All right, Cathy, I appreciate it. Why don’t you go home? Take tomorrow off.”
“Oh, I can’t do that. I have too much to do.”
He stopped and took her by her arms. “Go home. We’ll be fine. And thank you.”
She smiled and wandered down the corridor. Cathy would have worked until she dropped. He appreciated it, but it could lead to resentment and he couldn’t have that.
“Right. Let’s see who this is.” Johnson came with him. Along the way, they discussed forming a group that could search the highways for any delivery trucks that might contain supplies. As he opened the door to his office, he observed a bald man seated in front of his desk, and another guy with fair hair browsing the whiteboard with his hands clasped behind his back. Both were wearing green military fatigues.
“Sheriff Wilder. I hope you don’t mind us waiting here.”
“Of course not.”
“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you,” the fair-haired man said, turning away from the whiteboard. “My name is Captain Benjamin Evans.” Then he gestured with a wave to his companion. “This is Lieutenant Elijah Hale.”
Dan noticed a patch on his shoulder – California State Militia. Country, Family, God. The emblem in the middle was a bear and a soldier.
“Here to protest?” Dan asked.
“No sir, we do not protest as an organization. We’re not a hate group, nor are we militant or anti-government. We uphold the principles of the elected, and we defend the rights and protections of citizens defined by our founding fathers in the U.S. Constitution and Bill of Rights. We are all private citizens. Volunteers.”
“Right. Pleased to meet you.” He skirted around his desk while Johnson stood at the back of the room, observing them. “How can I be of assistance?”
“Well, that’s what we’re here to ask you. We’re aware that we are all dealing with a huge event, and so our militia group is offering assistance to local communities.”
Dan observed them. He’d seen all manner of militia groups throughout the United States. Many of them were good people just wanting to uphold the laws, help communities, suppress insurrections, and repel invasions, but there were always a few bad apples among the bunch. He wasn’t too familiar with this California Militia.
“Well, I appreciate the offer. But we seem to have things under control.”
Evans chuckled. “That’s good to hear. Many of the communities from Southern California through to Eureka aren’t faring as well. Many have yet to receive help from the National Guard, FEMA, or the Red Cross. How are you managing to keep people under control?”
“The same way we did before. By doing our job.”
Evans smiled. “That’s admirable. I saw all the people you had out there helping. Must feel good to see the community coming together.”
“It is. We’ll get through this.”
“And food and medical supplies?”
“We have them.”
“Dwindling?” he asked.
Dan’s eyed bounced to his quiet friend, Elijah.
“Forgive me for being blunt, captain, but what are you offering?”
He sucked air between his teeth. “We have a large group and would be willing to have some of our men come and help. You have a large county to cover. I’m sure it must be hard to maintain law and order. We could assist with some of the smaller communities. Act as a deterrent. Deal with home invasions. Boots on the ground, sheriff. I’m sure you have your hands full with the jail to maintain and the city.”
“We’re doing fine.”
His friend Elijah must have found that funny as he chuckled.
“I’m sorry. Something amusing?” Dan asked.
“Well, it’s just you say you’re doing fine, and yet the last I heard, you had three bodies hanging from a bridge, two dead in the hills, and that’s within the first eleven days.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Word spreads fast, sheriff. There’s little that gets by us,” Elijah replied.
Evans chimed in. “What the lieutenant here is saying is that we are just here to help. We recognize you are facing an uphill battle. We can make that a little easier. If you have law and order under control, kudos to you. However, I’m sure you lack skilled individuals who are willing to go out and search the highways and other towns for food and supplies, am I right?”
Dan glanced at Johnson, and he nodded ever so slightly.
He wasn’t sure of how many they had assigned to that task if any.
The captain continued, “Collecting food can be a dangerous challenge. I’m sure you need your men and women dealing with matters here in town. Why not let us help? We’ll go and see what we can come up with. If you like what you see, we’ll continue. If not, we’ll leave. No hard feelings. Of course, we will do everything under your guidance. We’re not here to step on anyone’s toes, are we, lieutenant?”
Elijah’s lip curled. “No, captain. No, we’re not.”
FIFTEEN Bill Manning
Merced County
Day 12 of the event
Bill “Spider” Manning raised the gun and shot one of his men in the head. The body dropped, and he moved on to the next. They were useless, the whole lot. Good help was hard to find. He wanted to execute every single one and he might have if he had more than twenty guys but he’d already lost eight in an exchange with the Gustine Police.
