Broken Lives: A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World (Broken Lines Book 4) (4 page)

***

It took a few tries, but Nelson and Kalen finally managed to ride the length of Main Street back and forth twice on the motorcycles. They pulled into the parking lot and shut the engines off.

“How’d it feel?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know why I ever thought of asking for a car. You can get me a motorcycle for Christmas this year,” Kalen said.

“Pretty soon you’ll have to get your first ink,” Fay said.

“Um, no,” Anne replied.

“I ate a few bugs, but other than that it was all right,” Nelson added.

“It’s good protein,” Sam said.

Mary laughed, and Erin giggled. Even Nancy cracked a smile.

“Dad,” Kalen said.

Jung was standing in the courtyard of the motel behind them, next to the fountain, half looking at them and half looking at the ground.

The whole group tensed up. Almost every person Jung tied up and left for dead was standing in front of him. None of them had seen him since that day, and none of them wanted to. Mike started to walk toward him, but Anne grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“I won’t kill him,” Mike said.

Jung didn’t make eye contact with Mike until he was right in front of him, and even then it was minimal.

“What do you want?” Mike asked.

Jung fidgeted nervously. His hands kept wandering over his body, unsure of what to do. His eyes stayed aimed at the ground.

“Mike, I… I…”

Jung’s voice was trembling. The words came out jumbled and quiet. Jung was swaying back and forth. Mike could smell the booze on him.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Jung said.

“You remember what you told me on the road from the airport to the cabin?” Mike asked.

“I was only trying to keep my family safe.”

“And what about my family? What about Nelson’s family? Did you keep them safe? Did you think about that when you pointed a gun at my wife and children?”

Mike’s forehead was almost touching Jung’s, whose head was still bowed in submission. Mike wanted to break him. He wanted to reach for the pistol at his side and put that man out of his misery for good. It wouldn’t be a loss. If anything the world would have one less nuisance.

The group behind Mike crept closer, trying to hear what was being said, and who was speaking. Finally they were right behind him. The only one of them that separated from the group was Fay.

“Whatever you think you’re entitled to, whatever rights you think you have, they don’t exist anymore. Not for you,” Mike said.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Fay said.

“Yes, it does.”

Mike was done. He wasn’t going to waste any more time on the subject. He turned to go and the rest of the group followed. One by one they all turned their backs on Jung, just as he did to them, but Kalen stayed behind. When Mike looked back she was visibly shaking. He could see her hands tighten around the rifle.

“Kalen,” Mike said.

“You’re not a man,” Kalen said, her eyes locked on Jung. “You think you can just try and hurt our family and then we forgive you? Is that what you pray to your God about? Forgiveness?”

“Kalen, c’mon,” Mike said.

“You don’t get forgiveness. You’ll never get it,” Kalen said.

When Kalen walked away Jung broke down. The dam of tears he held back gave way. Whatever resolve he had left was gone. He collapsed in a heaped mess and only Fay was left to help him up.

Mike didn’t want her to stay. Fay wasn’t just a valuable member of their group, she had become a member of his family. She made her choice though and Mike wasn’t going to be able to change her mind. Each of them had to live with the repercussions of their actions.

Agent Ben Sullivan flipped through the file in his hands. The evidence, the confession, it was all there, wrapped up in a bow.

“It doesn’t fit,” Ben said.

His partner, Mitch Hamon, leaned back in his chair, his large hands resting on his equally large stomach. Mitch had just been paired with Ben for the investigation, but the old man wasn’t much help.

“You’re overthinking it, Sullivan,” Mitch said. “People went nuts when the lights went out, and this guy was at the center of everything. It’s all there.”

“So this guy organizes an EMP missile launch, a coup against the government, and then decides to blow everything up? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Like I said, people went nuts.”

“He had enough supplies and manpower to pretty much do whatever he wanted. You really think he’d just give it all up like that?”

“People. Went. Nuts.”

Ben brushed Mitch off. Of all the things they heard about from across the country during the blackout, this one took the cake.

“Agent Sullivan?”

Ben looked up from the file. One of the office assistants had opened the door to their office.

“Yes?” Ben asked.

“I have a man out here asking to speak with you.”

“Tell him I’m busy.”

“He says he has information about the Cincinnati case.”

Ben shot a glance at Mitch.

“People went nuts, huh?” Ben asked.

The agency was packed. There were people from all around the country. Allegations and reports of what people did to each other ranged from murder to theft. The dust was still clearing, but the majority of the country was back on its feet.

Power started to come back on in most major cities two months ago. Once that happened and communication channels opened back up people started to calm down.

Ben was selected to head the task force to ensure that all claims of serious illegal activity during the time of the blackout were heard.

It wasn’t a job anyone wanted. It was a slew of hearsay and “he said, she said.” People just kept passing the blame and pointing fingers elsewhere for misdirection.

Ben hadn’t run across a single solid case until this guy walked in and turned himself in voluntarily. He said he was responsible for everything. The planning of the EMP missile launch, the organized coup in Cincinnati, murder, treason—all were admitted by him in a written statement.

The guy even had knowledge about the detailed inner workings of how it went on. He gave them names, locations, anything and everything that would tie him to the crime. The only thing that didn’t match up was the guy’s profile before the lights went out.

Ben requested his information a few days ago and it finally arrived today. The guy had no priors, no criminal history of any kind. The two pieces of the guy’s life were total contradictions.

The assistant brought Ben and Mitch into a private room, set aside for one-on-ones that required a quiet place to talk, away from the chaos of the main floor.

Inside was an older man dressed in an old tweed jacket and a bow tie. The assistant left and Ben extended his hand, which the old man took hesitantly.

“I’m Agent Sullivan. This is my partner, Agent Hamon. You told one of our assistants that you had information on a suspect we’re holding?”

“Yes, I believe I can help.”

“Well, what can you tell us?”

The old man’s fingers fumbled nervously over each other. His eyes roamed the floor, as if there were words written down there that could help him speak. He paced the office for a moment, not saying anything.

“Listen, pal,” Mitch said. “If you’ve got something that can help us, let’s get on with it. We have other things we need to get done.”

“I’m sure you think you have an open-and-shut case.”

“Yeah, the guy confessed to everything,” Mitch said.

“What do you know?” Ben asked.

“I know that whatever facts you heard were based on half-truths.”

“Do you know the man in custody?” Ben asked.

“Yes.”

“What do you know that he’s not telling us?”

“Everything.”

Ben rubbed his eyes. The long nights and cryptic messages of what was true and what was false were starting to weigh on him.

“Then why don’t you tell us, Dr. Wyatt, exactly what you know,” Ben said.

Dr. Wyatt took a seat in the corner of the room, where the lights were low and his face was cast in shadows.

“I want to see him first,” Dr. Wyatt said.

***

Ben and Mitch went back to their office, leaving Dr. Wyatt alone in the waiting room.

“The guy’s lying,” Mitch said.

Ben pulled open a drawer of one of the filing cabinets. He flipped through the files, searching for a document he remembered seeing a while back.

“Ben, you can’t let that guy see our suspect,” Mitch said.

“Where’s the file on the utilities hearing?” Ben asked.

“What?”
“We had the minutes to a utilities hearing in Congress that happened over a year ago. We received the file from a senator when we first started getting things up and running. I know we have it somewhere.”

Ben went through every drawer and file, but couldn’t find it. He slammed the last drawer shut and fell back into his chair.

Mitch walked over to his desk and opened the bottom drawer. He pulled out a stack of papers and dropped it in front of Ben. Ben flipped through the pages, making sure they were from the meeting he was looking for.

“I still don’t think we should let him see him,” Mitch said.

Ben ran his finger along the text on the pieces of paper. He started reading aloud.

“Dr. Wyatt suggested that the United States was susceptible to an open attack on its power and water facilities.”

“You think the doctor was in on it?” Mitch asked.

“No photos of our guy are going to be sent out to the public until tomorrow. The only people that know we’re holding him are here in this building. Let’s show the doctor a lineup. See if he can point our guy out. That’ll at least tell us if he has a connection with him.”

***

Dr. Wyatt sat on the other side of the one-way glass waiting for the suspects to walk in. Ben told him to identify the man he believed they had in custody.

A group of ten individuals walked in, all similar in height, ethnicity, and appearance, each with a number in front of them. Dr. Wyatt took a few moments examining the group before speaking.

“Number eight,” Dr. Wyatt said.

Ben shot Mitch a look and then sent everyone except the man Wyatt identified out the door.

“You sure?” Ben asked.

“Yes, it took me a minute because of the facial hair, but that’s him.”

“Okay, then. You know him. Now you’re going to tell us about him.”

“I was a part of the original planning of the attack. I’m sure you’ve read the articles that were written in regards to my meeting with the Senate committee before the blast happened. I was approached by a man afterwards who was looking for a partner.”

“This partner was the man that planned the attacks? And was responsible for what happened in Cincinnati?” Ben asked.

“Yes, he was the man who tried to purge the country of everyone who wasn’t prepared. That’s what he wanted, for people to hurt,” Dr. Wyatt said.

Mitch threw his arms up in the air.

“I told you, Sullivan. Put a bow on it. This is done. We’ve got his partner in custody,” Mitch said.

“No, I’m afraid it’s not,” Dr. Wyatt said.

Mitch’s arms fell to his side, deflated.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked.

“The man I identified just now had nothing to do with the EMP attack, or the coup to overthrow the government,” Dr. Wyatt said.

“Then why would he confess? Why would he turn himself in and say he did all of these things that he had nothing to do with?” Ben asked.

“Penance I suppose.”

“So why are you here?”

“To help him, as he helped me.”

“Do you have any proof? Anything that can back up what you’re telling me? Because you’re going to have to give us something to overturn the written confession we have.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t, but if you could just let me speak to him, have a few minutes alone—”

“Oh, no,” Mitch said. “There’s no way in hell you’re seeing our guy alone.”

The blinds to the waiting room were closed, blocking them from the rest of the office. Ben could still hear the bustle of people outside, their voices talking about the weekend, what they were going to do that night.

All of it was still pretty surreal to him. He couldn’t imagine what some of the people in this very office did to stay alive during the outage. The worst of human nature seemed to turn on when the power went off.

Whatever really happened between people during the blackout was between them. He knew that most cases would get thrown out, because there just wasn’t enough evidence.

Ben had to pull something tangible out of this mayhem. He needed to prove to himself and the rest of the country that what people did wasn’t okay. He wanted to show that the line of right and wrong was a very clear one, and those that tried to cross it would be brought to justice.

“There might be one piece of evidence that I could give you, but I’m not sure if it still exists,” Dr. Wyatt said.

“What is it?” Ben asked.

“I kept a journal, detailing the plans of the attack and the rebuilding process we wanted to go through.”

“Who has it?”

Dr. Wyatt looked back through the one-way glass at the suspect, standing alone in the room.

“Mike Grant,” Dr. Wyatt said.