“Yeah. The cop will fit right in. Talk to Alec. He should be rotating back in this afternoon from the hospital. He’ll get you the details on the additions.”
Jordan walked around the office wing and waved at Jason and Jeff. There was an OHV parked in the round-about and Jordan liked to keep the grounds tidy and the vehicles parked where they belonged.
Jordan jumped in the OHV and gunned it around the corner, probably waking people in the bunkhouse.
Jeff went back to talking about the assaults the previous day, filling Jason in on the chain of events. He hadn’t quite gotten to the part about sending Evan and ten guys out to the Army Depot when a commotion erupted behind the bunkhouse. Someone shouted and animated voices began cranking up, like an old forty-five record picking up speed.
Jordan came roaring back around in the OHV and jerked to a stop beside Jeff and Jason.
“Did you know there’s a body back here?” Jordan said in a loud voice, pointing to a tarp in the back of the OHV. In fairness, Jordan couldn’t speak in anything but a loud voice. He had clearly jumped into drama mode, so now he was virtually shouting.
A crowd of Homestead people poured out of the bunkhouse, heading for Jeff, Jason and the dead man in the OHV. A chill went down Jeff’s spine, a realization that he had missed a step and now he would pay the piper. Jeff had meant to talk to his security forces about what to do with a deceased intruder. He had known they would kill someone soon enough, based on how often they were turning intruders at the wire, and it had occurred to Jeff that he would need to cover this eventuality and issue orders. But it had fallen through the cracks, lost in the shuffle of the hundred other things he had to do.
“That’s trouble,” Jason stated the obvious as the crowd surrounded the OHV.
Alena, the nurse, yanked back the tarp and sprang into action, checking the body’s pulse. Apparently, the body had cooled sufficiently to make the verdict certain. It was a dead body and everyone was staring into the man’s open, glazed eyes.
“What the hell is this?” Alena pointed at the body, consumed with fury. She shot daggers at Jeff and Jason.
“I don’t know,” Jeff replied matter-of-factly. He set his coffee down on the rail and walked over to the truck bed of the OHV. The dead man was curled up, probably so he would fit in the cargo area. It wasn’t anyone Jeff knew, and the man had a bullet wound in his chest. To Jeff, it looked like a .308 rifle hole.
“Sorry. Sorry, guys.” Winslow jogged up from the bunkhouse. “I screwed up. I couldn’t find you when I came in last night from duty, and there was no one to tell about this.” He pointed at the body.
Jeff stared at him blankly. Jason watched the crowd.
“I had to shoot him. It was me. He pointed his rifle at me and he was over the boundary. We did a warning shot. Well, Crandall did a warning shot and this guy wouldn’t stop. I didn’t have to shoot the other guy…” Winslow rambled. He had probably awakened from a dead sleep, remembering that he had left a body in the driveway.
“Stop talking,” Jeff interrupted him. “Don’t say another word.”
In Jeff’s mind, there were two kinds of people. Brothers, and all the rest. Winslow was a “brother.” Pretty much everyone else standing there, except possibly Jason, fell into the category “the rest.”
It was possible that Winslow had serious legal troubles. On the other hand, legal troubles weren’t what they used to be. Maybe a man could kill someone in the mountains without legal repercussions now. This wasn’t Iraq, but it might be pretty close. Jeff’s mind swam with the repercussions of the killing, and he had to admit he simply did not know.
In any case, it sounded like Winslow had followed orders perfectly. Jeff needed time to think about it. He had known this moment was coming, but planning for something and experiencing it were two very different things. A surprise dead body in the back of an OHV would not have been his preferred outcome. He would have much preferred that Winslow bury the body somewhere on the hill or dump it over the boundary fence. But Jeff only had himself to blame. He hadn’t gotten out ahead of this issue and he knew better.
Alena pointed her finger in his face. “You are responsible for this, mister shoot-first-ask-questions-later. This innocent man—LOOK AT HIM—he was probably just searching for food for his family, and your MEN gunned him down. LOOK AT HIM! This is no criminal. This is no ATTACKER. You killed him! All of you. Both of you!!” She glared back and forth at Jeff and Jason.
Jeff didn’t know what to say, and mostly he didn’t care. He looked at Jason, who was staring down the driveway.
Men from the neighborhood were arriving to start combat training on the Great Lawn. Bishop Decker had put the word out that men with guns would receive basic military training at the Homestead today. A number of the neighbors broke away from the group and drifted up toward the crowd, curious about what was happening.
Jason jumped into action to prevent a political calamity. “Jordan, please take that… man… down to the infirmary immediately. Cover him up. Do it now. Everyone else, would you please join us in the office?”
Jordan pulled the tarp over the body, fired up the OHV and nudged through the crowd. As the people filed into the office, the men from the neighborhood gradually headed back toward the Great Lawn. There was some intermingling of people—Homestead and neighborhood. Undoubtedly, a few words of gossip were exchanged.
“People, I know this is serious, but we need to talk about it in an orderly fashion.” Jason packed the group into the office and everyone talked at once.
“Rules of order, folks. One person at a time.”
“I’m concerned, really concerned about this.” It was Jason’s brother, Donald Ross. “The lights have been out for what? Eight days? We’re already killing people. I just want to know; did this have to happen? Was this necessary?”
The room burst into a melee of conversation. Jeff could see the strain on Jason’s face. If it had been anyone but his brother, a member of the steering committee, this would have been easier.
Jeff had observed this already about Jason and the Ross family. Every one of them had big opinions. Regardless of the effect on other people, they would jump into analysis and crank up a passionate position, certain they were right. That was probably why Jeff and Jason got along at all. They came from the same bolt of cloth—the same kind of family. Jason had largely learned to cloak his opinionated streak through decades of business politicking. But he still had the heart of a crusader and, given the chance, he’d glom onto big opinions just like the rest of his clan.
Another one of Jason’s brothers, Walt Ross, shouted everyone down. “Guys, someone died. That’s about as serious as it gets. Let’s hear Jason and Jeff out. Why did this guy have to die?”
Jason jumped into the gap. “We’ll never know. I’m sorry. We could get Winslow in here, grill him, then grill Jeff—Jeff wasn’t even on the property when the shooting took place—and we still wouldn’t know if this was necessary.”
Frankly, Jeff had no idea where Jason was going with this. He didn’t seem to be helping much.
“This is murder and we’re all complicit,” Alena shouted. “I can see no reason to kill people to keep them away from our stuff. Do we know we couldn’t have just asked this man to leave? Did you see his face? He’s not the kind of man to come in here and shoot our kids for food. I’d rather die than live like this. My family is leaving!”