Defiant Read online

  Defiant

  A.M. Flynn

  Published by DashingBooks, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  DEFIANT

  First edition. March 12, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 A.M. Flynn.

  Written by A.M. Flynn.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 1

  As the door to the café opened, cold air and leaves blew inside.

  “Look what I found.”

  Wolf glanced up from the chain saw manual.

  Reilly pushed the girl into the room and all eyes turned to her.

  “What happened?”

  Reilly gave her a shove when she didn’t answer. “Tell him.”

  “What happened to her?” Wolf asked.

  “I found her up on the Purchase, by the side of the road. Like this.”

  She was dirty, her face streaked with tears, hair caked with mud and dried leaves. Disheveled, there was a rip in her sweater.

  “Who did this?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” The words were barely more than a whisper.

  “Who are you?”

  “She’s that city bitch’s daughter,” Reyna replied. “The artist. Erica Cook.”

  Wolf stood and walked over to her. “Is that right?”

  She nodded.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Sophie,” she said softly.

  Wolf took her arm. “I’ll take care of it.” He pulled her toward the door but she didn’t move.

  Alise, with a long lock of hair hiding her eyes as usual, got up from her seat by the window and crossed to her. “Go with him, you’ll be safe.”

  Sophie followed him out onto the street and down the uneven sidewalk to his pickup truck. He opened the door and she got inside. A moment later, they were driving down River Street.

  The headlights cut a path through the dark and after winding up a dirt road into the woods, Wolf stopped the truck at a log cabin. The sound of a generator broke the silence of the night.

  “Get out or do you need help?”

  “I can do it. Where are we?”

  “Doc Doremus will do whatever needs to be done.”

  They walked to the door.

  “I didn’t know there was a doctor in town.”

  “Technically, there isn’t.” He knocked on the door.

  A moment later, it opened.

  Doc was one of the oldest men left in town and even at that, he wasn’t so old. “Wolf?”

  “I have a patient for you.”

  Doc reached out and took Sophie’s hand, drawing her into the room. “What happened? As if I don’t know.”

  “Reilly found her up on the hill. She doesn’t know who did this.”

  “I’ve never seen her before. Who is she?”

  “That’s artist woman’s daughter. What’s her name?”

  “Erica Cook,” Sophie supplied words barely audible.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up and put back together again. You can tell me about it if you want. If you don’t want to...”

  “The more we know, the easier it will be to deal with,” Wolf said as Sophie was ushered into Doc’s spare room.

  “Think that through for a change, Wolf,” Doc said as he closed the door.

  “Can’t let it stand or they’ll do it again,” Wolf replied loudly enough to be heard through the rough-hewn wood.

  A half hour later, Doc left his makeshift treatment room and closed the door behind him.

  “Is she okay?”

  Doc shrugged. “I gave her hormones and a mild tranquilizer. Apparently she put up a good fight.”

  “How so?”

  “Picked up a rock from the ground and clocked him with it.”

  “She doesn’t look that tough.”

  “When you think you might be killed, even a cream puff can turn into a tiger. Still she’s pretty upset.”

  “She should be. She was raped.”

  “She says she was going to a private school in Connecticut and her mother ran out of money so she had to come here to live.”

  “She can’t have been here long, we would have seen her.”

  “Just about a week.”

  “Not much of a welcome to town.”

  “Wolf, I know you want to do something but don’t start a war over it.”

  “The war’s already on, Doc. I didn’t start it and I won’t likely finish it.”

  “Take her home and leave it at that. She’ll have to deal with it in her own way.”

  “Like Alise and Reyna?”

  Doc shrugged. “Nothing is the way it used to be. We’ve all had losses.”

  No one had to remind Wolf of that. Every day he was reminded that his father had been taken away. Phin Harndon had been one of the first, early on. Since then, most of the adult men in town had been arrested, or disappeared. Wolf knew what his father would have wanted from him, and that would be to take over, to lead, to be a presence for the community.

  There had been many times that first year, Wolf didn’t think he could replace his father. By the second year, Wolf stopped thinking his father would return home and take over. By the third year, everyone accepted that Wolf was the Harndon they could rely on.

  It had never been a position he sought. His father was a leader, having been in the military and knowing how to take command. Wolf had been fourteen when this had been thrust upon him and even though he had been well trained by Phin, it was an adult’s job. Taking a position in the community as an adult was not for a kid but Wolf was forced to grow into the role quickly.

  Everything had happened at speed. No one had been prepared. Everyone kept thinking there was a bottom and it all just kept collapsing. There was one new bottom after another until it had just all bottomed out.

  By then, that was about a year ago, the men who resisted had been carted off, there was little money, there was no real organization, there was no one outside to help. Everyone was in the same position. This was it. This was the new normal. The country had imploded with help from the elites who had taken care of themselves and their families, and left the citizens with platitudes and promises.

  They promised it was temporary. No one believed that now. It felt permanent.

  They promised they were working on ways to get the country back on its feet. No one believed that anymore. Everything that should be done, wasn’t. Everything that shouldn’t be done, was.

  That the leaders in the communities, large and small, had been removed, proved the government had no intention of letting the people build their way back up. New laws, new restrictions, new regulations, were put in place regularly. The purpose was always to crush, to destroy, not to aid. They were being bled white all in the guise of the greater good.

  Times of crisis bring out the best in some, and the worst in others.

  Sophie exited from the treatment room, cleaned up but with eyes not quite in focus.

  “I’ll take you home,” Wolf said and she nodded.

  A DAY LATER, THE COUNCIL met at Danny Newman’s house, made up of Wolf and the five men left who were willing to risk doing whatever it took to maintain civilization in the community. They kept the farms going. They did what was illegal, the bartering and trading necessary to make sure their neighbors had what they needed to survive. Most of this was done under the cover of night, with other communities, some several states away. If it wasn’t blatant, the government didn’t seem to care if communities found the m
eans to keep going. If it became too obvious, the militia came in and took those responsible away.

  Residents in some communities grew lawless without local governments or a police presence to enforce behavior. It was up to the council to act as the judiciary.

  “Who is this girl, again?” Ted asked.

  “She belongs to that city woman who came up here about five years ago,” Danny replied. “Kind of uppity. Didn’t have any use for us when everything was going okay but now that it’s not, she’s pretty near helpless.”

  “She should go back where she came from,” Ted said.

  The members of the council nodded.

  “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” Wolf asked. “You can’t expect her to go back to the city. If she doesn’t have any money to keep the daughter in school, she probably doesn’t have a place to live in the city.”

  “It’s not our problem,” Gary said. “We have enough to do taking care of our own.”

  “We’re stuck with her.”

  “I don’t want to be stuck with her. She treated me like...”

  “She’s one of them,” Ted added.

  That was the worst that could be said about anyone, that they were among those who caused this.

  “She had one of those damn signs in her yard. No Drill No Spill. She used to come to the town hall meetings and rail against fracking.”

  “Is that right?” Wolf asked.

  The whole fracking issue had taken place when Phin was still at home, when Wolf had been a child.

  The town was sitting on Marcellus Shale, rock full of natural gas. The environmentalists had been against drilling for it, arguing that it polluted ground water even though there was no evidence of that. They created every law, every block possible to prevent the drilling for the resource that was in such abundance.

  If it weren’t for gas now, the entire town would either be gone or dead. Vehicles had been converted to natural gas instead of petroleum early on. Generators ran on it, stoves, heat, lights. Without gas, the town wouldn’t exist.

  It was what they used for money, trading goods from elsewhere, for gas others so desperately needed to survive.

  “She’s not against it now,” Gary said. “When I bring her up her allotment of gas, she’s grateful. Says please and thank you when she pays me.”

  “You’re not overcharging her, are you,” Danny asked.

  “The price is the price, even if I don’t like her.”

  “She’s not our problem right now. It’s the Russells. What are we going to do about them?”

  “If you let me take care of it after Alise,” Wolf started.

  “We don’t want to become them,” Danny replied.

  “A doctor uses a knife to heal people. It’s called a scalpel. Using a knife can be an act of violence or an act of mercy,” Wolf answered using the same words his father had said to him years ago. “We can’t let it continue. They’re preying on the women.”

  The men around the table were silent, then nodded.

  “Find out which one did it,” Danny said. “Then take care of it.”

  “Roger that.”

  WOLF DROVE UP TO THE Cook house in his pickup truck. A small cottage that once had been called a camp years ago, it had been improved upon before Erica Cook bought it. There was a substantial addition off to one side and a large detached garage. Peppered around the yard were metal sculptures—modern art that didn’t look like anything in particular and that Wolf didn’t understand. One looked like a window frame, another looked like part of an airplane, others were made from discarded gears, flywheels and farm equipment. This was her art. This was art for city dwellers.

  No wonder she was out of money. It was the kind of junk only rich people could afford and not many people could indulge themselves in this nonsense anymore. These days, people had to do something useful. Erica Cook appeared to be someone who never had to take care of herself before.

  Wolf got out of the truck and walked to the front door. He knocked and waited. After a few moments, the door opened.

  She looked like everyone felt—worse for the wear, her clothes well-used. He imagined she would never have been seen like this in public. Even if she had dressed like hippie past its sell-by date, it would have been the perfect costume. This was real.

  “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Cook?”

  “Ms,” she corrected him automatically.

  Geez, get off it already, Wolf thought. “I’m Wolf Harndon and I’d like to have a word with your daughter, Sophie.”

  Erica nodded. “Thank you for helping her. She told me what happened and how you took care of everything. I...” she paused find the right word without overdoing it. “Appreciate it.”

  Wolf nodded.

  “She’s out in my studio. She doesn’t want to...she preferred being alone for a while.” Erica pointed to the large converted barn across from the house.

  “I won’t take up much of her time,” Wolf replied as he turned and walked across the yard.

  It was cold and there was a wind picking up. This could be a bad winter.

  He knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Wolf opened the door and stepped inside.

  She was at a large drawing board positioned by a wall of windows. It was bright and sunny but there was no heat in the building.

  “Hi,” she said in surprise.

  “Hi.”

  Wolf noticed she was wearing a heavy sweater under the sweatshirt jacket. “Don’t you have any heat it here?”

  She smiled softly and pointed to the woodburning stove. “We have the potential for heat. The barn has baseboard heating but we don’t have electricity. So my mother got this stove last year but now we can’t afford the firewood. We can afford gas for the house.” She smiled again and shrugged. “It’s not so bad if you dress for it. It’s a little like being outside but without the wind.”

  “What are you doing?” He asked as he came over to the table.

  “Sketching.” Sophie moved the pencil so he could see the pencil drawing of a pheasant. “I saw it yesterday when I was out walking. We both stopped, then it flew away. I wish...I could fly away.”

  He didn’t know what to say. No one wanted to be here for this. No one had dreamed of it or planned for it. It was forced on them. It was something to be accepted. Whoever didn’t, suffered the longest.

  “I don’t know where I’d go. Do you?”

  “No. It’s a beautiful drawing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’d like to talk to you about what happened. We need as much information as you can remember.”

  “Why?”

  “We’ll take care of it. We’ll make sure the right thing happens.”

  Sophie toyed with her pencil. “What does that mean the right thing happens?”

  “You don’t need to know. All you need to do is tell me about it and then forget it.”

  Her smile was so sad it nearly broke his heart.

  Chapter 2

  “I walk. I like to be alone. Me and people...”

  He waited while she tried to find the right words.

  “They’re so impatient.” Sophie gave a little wave of her hand as if to dismiss all that. “So that’s why I was out. I thought it was safe.”

  “Up here on the Purchase, this is the way they come over the mountain. Otherwise, closer to town, it is safe.”

  She was about to respond.

  “You had no way of knowing. It’s not your fault.”

  “It feels like it. Anyway. The truck came up behind me and stopped. He got out. Asked my name.”

  “Have you ever seen him before?”

  “I never saw anyone before. I’ve been here a couple weeks. We don’t go to town. The car doesn’t run on natural gas so the neighbor takes my mother.”

  Wolf nodded. Yeah, it was really hard. But everyone in town had been taken care of by this point. No one knew Erica Cook. She hadn’t wanted to be a part of the community when she moved in an
d nothing had changed over the years so no one gave her a second thought.

  “What did he look like?”

  She had her head down, working on the sketch, her dark hair like a curtain between the two of them. “He had red hair.”

  “A Russell.”

  “You know him?”

  “I don’t know which brother it was but they’ve gone feral. They run the town they live in. They’re the law if you want to call it that. The townspeople do what the Russells say or there’s hell to pay. Bad guys.”

  Not raising her head from what she was drawing, Sophie thought for a moment. “Green truck, I think.”

  “Donnie.” Wolf nodded. “Okay. I’ll take care of it.”

  She looked up. “Is that your function in the new society, to take care of things?”

  Wolf nodded. “I took over for my father.”

  “Where is he?”

  “The government arrested him almost four years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry. Have you heard from him since?”

  “Just often enough not to get over it.”

  She kept drawing.

  “Thank you for your time, I’ll go.”

  “Here,” Sophie said, picking up the paper and holding it out to him.

  Wolf looked at it, then looked at her. “It’s me.”

  She smiled. “You can tell.”

  WOLF AND REILLY WERE standing in the woods waiting for a flock of wild turkeys to appear.

  “We have to do something about Donnie Russell,” Wolf said.

  “Okay. When?”

  “Is it better to do it before or after the holiday?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Yes.”

  Either way it would spoil this Thanksgiving for his mother. It would be the last holiday he was at the table with them or the first he wasn’t. The other Russells, well, they were just too mean to hurt. They’d be angry, of course, but his mother would grieve for the rest of her life.

  This was not a decision easily made. Donnie had been a problem for the last couple years. In a way, he was the worst of the Russells because he was the one they sent out to do their bidding. He had smashed one of their wellheads, slashed tires, vandalized trucks, set fire to the haylage over to Portais’s farm, and, of course, came over the mountain to rape Alise and Reyna. At least a rock had been within reach for Sophie.