On a Dark Horse | By : TarnishedArmour Category: G through L > Jericho Views: 1536 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
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Timeline: Bombs + 12, 13, 14 A/N: I know the times for Jake's past aren't perfect, but it does work, if it's taken that "six months out of work" in San Diego was a bit of exaggeration on Jake's part. Returning the majority of the focus to Jonah again. If it's not changed, presume that other events remain the same, if I'm not addressing the characters (like Jake and Hawkings and Jimmy, etc.) directly. Jonah's still getting settled in to his new place in town. =-+=-+=-+=-+=-+ It'd been nearly two weeks after the bombs. Jonah's shop was open for business, now running on a set of wind turbines Aylah and Heather had whipped together and installed with the help of the town mechanics, no mechanical governors included. Jonah did not want to keep running the shop generator the way he had been. The research that Billy had done about the railcars had paid off--three teams of draft horses, a breed the Clarinds refused to give up on their spreads, were hitched to the boxcars-come-flatcars and pulled them easily to the switchyard. After the cars were moved, the handcar was ready to be employed. It moved faster, especially with the team of guys working to pump the car into the railyard and closer to town. After they'd gotten the tankers to the railyard, they could breathe a bit easier. They were also able to round up aluminum and plastic drums that could be hauled back to town with something like ease. The cars with pipes and other huge, currently unusable things, were stored at the railyard via the handcar. High school students invaded Jonah's shop and Aylah's peace the twelfth day after the bombs. He introduced the kids to the two mechanics from town, to Aylah and Heather, whom many already knew as Miss Lisinski, and to the members of his crew who would be helping out from time to time. The one warning was also issued: Jonah decided who stayed and who went, not the principal or Miss Maddie. He would not tolerate anything less than their best effort and careful attention to their surroundings. The fact that Jonah said it made them all pay attention, all twelve of them on their first mechanics rotation. Some were familiar enough with tools and engines to pay attention to Jonah and they agreed. There was no room for a screw-up in a working garage/machine shop. Others were not familiar with the tools, but with Jonah. Skylar Stevens and Lisa Carmichael numbered in that group, though Lisa was familiar with tools because of her father's affection for working on antique motorcycles. She'd helped him out as a kid, and she'd actually managed to get pretty good at it herself. Skylar had simply drawn the short straw for this rotation and gotten stuck in the physics/mechanics section of research. She knew Jonah, so she knew better than to expect anything less than exactly what he said. However, with teenagers present, there is one certainty in life: Someone will decide to be cute and start fooling around. This time, it was one of the jocks who drove a cool car, but didn't know anything about it. Several people debated if he even knew where the gas went in, but no one said it to his face. He was annoying at best, a bully at worst. As Heather and Aylah were explaining the division of labour and the class, he'd ignored them. Heather took those who were new to the world of machines and Aylah took the ones who said they were familiar with the most basics and could at least name and give the purpose of the various tools, even if they'd never used them. After reviewing most of the basics, like wrenches, pliers, screwdrivers, nail guns, pneumatic equipment, cutting and welding torches, she moved on to the big-kid toys. One of those happened to have a nasty shock that it applied when mishandled, and the jock, thinking to be cute, took hold of it and knocked himself silly with the charge. Aylah just looked over at the boy and asked, "Is he breathing?" Lisa walked over to her ex-boyfriend and watched his chest. "Looks like it," she replied. She leaned down to double check. "Yep. He's alive." The class stood there, wide-eyed, waiting to see what their teacher would do. "Works for me." She continued with the list of tools, ignoring the boy on the floor. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, which now included rolling on the floor and groaning from the boy as sound effects, one of the kids asked if she was going to do something for the injured student. Aylah looked at the young man and said calmly, "No. He was stupid enough to ignore the safety rules, so he got what he deserved. He's not dead, so he isn't my problem anymore. In about thirty minutes, when he's well enough to stand, Jonah will send him on his way." She looked around the pale faces. "Look, this isn't kid stuff. You're not in a classroom and playing with the safety-scissors and glue anymore. How many of you have said, in the last year, that you're old enough to be treated like an adult?" Hands raised all over the room. They were all too surprised to be dishonest right now, and Aylah preferred that. "Welcome to the adult world. If you're not paying attention, it will kick your ass. Now, can we continue on to the drill press, please?" She moved to the next machine and began explaining the joys of the drill press. "Whatever you do, do not stick your hand between the plates while it's running. You will lose your hand…" Jonah walked in while as they finally put the kids to work sorting out the machine parts they'd scavenged from the locomotive, some of the kids who'd shown some aptitude for using the torches working on trimming out 8'x8' sheets from the boxcar plates that were on the "sacrifice" list. Those that they were reassembling for increased storage would be dealt with later. He saw the young man wandering around in a circle shaking his head and moaning. He looked over at Heather, who pointed to Aylah. When he looked at Aylah and jerked his head toward the boy, she drew her hand across her throat. Jonah took the kid by the collar and told Leon to drive him back to the school to answer to Miss Maddie. None of the kids noticed the boy was gone. ***** Skylar Stevens was sorting gears by size when Jonah walked over. "Skylar," he said, "didn't expect to see you here." She was taller than the last time he'd seen her. Then again, she was sixteen now, not ten. Skylar shrugged. "Neither did I, but I was working with Lisa on the research," she pointed to where the other girl was cutting along a boxcar side-seam, "and we were assigned here for this week. I'm so lost. I can research with the best, but I'm pretty useless here, and I know it. I mean, what is this?" she held up a 3/4'" cog and looked frustrated. "I think Miss Lisinski finally took mercy on me and had me sort these until she can find something I won't screw up." Jonah wasn't surprised. She'd never understood the first thing about machines, even when he'd let her "help" him at the mine. It was never anything she could destroy or anything important, but she'd end up covered in oil and grease and whatever she was working on would be unrecognizable by the end of the day. "So long as you get the same shapes and sizes in the same box, a fine sort by metal can be done later." She looked up at him with lost puppy eyes. "They're too dirty for that now, so we'll drop them in a degreaser for a day or so before we're ready for that." He grinned down at her. "Relax. You'll have something else to organize by then." The teen shook her head, setting her ponytail bouncing. "I know. I don't mind organizing and sorting, I mean somebody has to do it and better me than someone who can fix things, but I just…" she bit her lip, then blurted it out. "I just wish someone would tell me what was going on at the mine! Gray was running everything and he treats me like I don't know anything about it but that it's a big hole in the ground! Dad's been teaching me everything about it, and now that he and Mom…" Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked back at the box of gears. Jonah thought for a long minute. "Who's your guardian while your parents are gone?" "I don't have one," she sniffed, trying to stop the tears. "Sky, if they were gone, who'd have custody of you, according to their will?" The question was gentle, but he wasn't going to let this go. "I don't know," she sighed. "Maybe the Carmichaels? It'd be in the bank, or maybe Dad's safe at the mine. Or at the house." "Check there when you get home. I'll have Thomas check at the mine office--he has the emergency combination, right?" When she nodded and wiped her eyes with a clean spot of her sleeve, he continued. "And we'll ask the bank president to let you into your dad's safety deposit box, given that it is an emergency situation without precedent in U.S. history." Skylar nodded again, the smiled up at him, her tears slowly disappearing. "Thanks, Mr. Prowse." She looked at the gears and then back up at him. "I'll try not to screw this up too much." "Oh, don't worry about it. If you do, well, the floors could use scrubbing," he flashed her an evil mine-boss smile and walked over to see how Heather's group was faring with the new-tool sort and stash. Come to think of it, these shop floors were more than a bit disgusting. He wasn't running a NASCAR garage, where even the concrete gleamed. He was running a transport business. Keeping the trucks running was much more important than keeping the floors spotless. He managed not to laugh at the indignant, "Hey!" behind him or the theatrical grumbling, accompanied by the too-loud thunk of gears hitting boxes. ***** That night, Skylar Stevens looked through her father's safe and found the Last Will and Testament that belonged to her parents. In the event that she was underage and something happened to them, be it death or some unspecified reason they couldn't get home for an unusually long period of time, custody of one Skylar Stevens was to go whoever was listed in here. She couldn't bring herself to look it over, but she noted that the will was dated several years ago, before Gray Anderson had bought into the mine. At least she wouldn't have to deal with him on a daily basis. Now, if only she could get her hands on the books… She took her parents' will to the mayor's office the next morning before school and met Jonah, Miss Maddie, and a few others from the new town council there. Eric Green, the town lawyer and deputy mayor, was also there. She handed the will to him. "My parents were in New York City," she explained as Eric looked at her sharply. "I'm a minor, still, by Kansas law, even though I'm old enough to drive and work, and in six months can join the Army--if we still have an Army, that is. But I can't do anything with the mine or anything else without the consent of someone I may or may not even know." She looked at Eric with pleading eyes. "I don't want to know anything else--just who's making those decisions, or supposed to be." "Your daddy never told you, sweetheart?" Miss Maddie asked, her voice soothing the girl as she grew more and more upset. "No. I never thought to ask." Skylar looked over at Eric and then at the rest of the council. "Please? I know I'm young to you all, but I know the mine. I know the business, what salts we produce and refine, what fair prices were--and are now--and I know the workers. I know the distributors we use, the different chemical companies we supply…and how to keep the books, inventory, and run the place. Dad's been teaching me since I was able to crawl around." Jonah nodded. "It's true. She used to recite the lists of salts available from the mine to the secretaries, the technical and the everyday names. She even spelled them correctly and could draw the diagrams of them--by the time she was four. Stevens brought her in at least twice a week after school to learn some part of the business or another. Don't know if he still does--" "He did. Would, if he were here now. I was supposed to learn the explosives loads and procedures starting in January." She looked at Eric. "Please?" "It's unusual," Eric said, thinking over precedents, "but it can be done." He looked at the girl. "The ironic part is that, if you were married to a boy your age, he'd have legal guardianship until you were eighteen." "Like boys my age can think with the head on their shoulders," she grouched, rolling her eyes. Johnston coughed to cover a laugh while Miss Maddie and the other women on the council chuckled. Walking behind her, Jonah pulled her ponytail. "Be nice." He picked up his coffee cup from the table nearby and propped against it. "Was I lying?" she asked, turning to look at him. "Never said that, just to be nice." He raised an eyebrow at her and sipped his coffee. Skylar grinned at him, knowing that, if Jonah was nothing else, he was honest to the point of brutality. Her father had said that more than once after an argument over transport. She didn't consider it odd that a thief could be honest. He'd never bothered to hide what he was doing, after all, and no one had challenged him on it until Gray Anderson showed up. The fact was that Jonah had stopped stealing from the mine as soon as the bypass was done and after that, well, he may have sold some things off-books, but it was old stuff that was going to be scrapped anyway. Skylar's father said he'd had to have had a good reason for it, and let it slide. Eric had been reading through the document and, just as people were sipping their morning cup of coffee, found the section with custody and guardianship listed. "In the event of my demise or should circumstances prevent me from taking care of my daughter, Skylar Stevens, for an extended length of time, I, Joseph Stevens, give custody to my wife, Karina. Should both of us be deceased or unable to care for Skylar Stevens, I give trust of her inheritance to Johnston Green and actual custody of my daughter to Jonah Prowse." Eric read it in his best courtroom voice. Then the impact of what he'd just read sank in. Jonah spat hot coffee all over Johnston's back as his name was read out. He was expecting to hear Gail's name after that. After a second of stunned silence, the council room burst into a myriad of comments and, from Johnston, curses about the hot coffee and apologetic asides to Skylar, even while he threatened to "whip Jonah's scrawny behind for that." "You think I planned that?" Jonah snapped back over the general noise, desperate to ignore the seeming insanity of one Joseph Stevens. "Yeah, I'll be handed Stevens' daughter to raise and oh, look, I can spit hot coffee on Johnston's back? Get real." After standing there for a long minute while chaos broke loose as a reaction, Skylar started giggling. Then she started laughing. Everyone grew quiet as they realized how Skylar was taking it. They tried to question her, but she couldn't stop laughing. By the time she laughing so hard tears were running down her face, they'd decided she was having a delayed hysterical reaction and the full meeting tonight was soon enough to finish things up. Finally, when she calmed down enough to speak, the council had cleared out and Johnston and Jonah were left with her. Johnston asked her what had been so amusing. Jonah tried drinking more of his much-abused coffee. "Something I heard Dad tell Gray a while back," she said, smirking. "He said he'd trust Jonah with his wife and his daughter, but not the books." Jonah choked again, only this time not as spectacularly. Johnston chuckled at the disgruntled expression on Jonah's face. "Well, that won't be a problem. I'll be keeping the books." "Actually," she said, given the mayor an apologetic look, "I will. I know what should be there, and you're busy. If there's a discrepancy, I'll bring them to you." She rolled her eyes. "And one or both of you might have to peel Gray off the ceiling when he finds out. He's been acting like it's all his, and that is not in the contract." Both men stared at her, then looked at each other. Damned if the little girl wouldn't have done just fine on her own. ***** As the day grew longer and the kids began to pack up for the day, they would return home at sunset each afternoon, Jonah looked over his paperwork. So far, the inventory list had grown to reflect "train parts, to be determined" and an unholy amount of sheet-metal, most of it steel or aluminum. Jonah looked over the plans Johnston had sent him about the security force. It was simple, really. Volunteers from the community would be trained by the various veterans who lived in Jericho to become a fighting force, should the need arise. They would also help to keep the roads around Jericho clear when things were not so dire. No one really expected there to be a war with anyone, but trouble, well, that was a legacy that every Westerner knew. Trouble could be counted on, and sometimes it would crop up within city limits. That was the easy trouble. Trouble from out of town tended to set in and took longer to get rid of. Jonah added a note or two in his sharp, spiky writing that perhaps a general requirement for anyone age 14 or older who hadn't learned to shoot by now needed to learn, health permitting. If nothing else, the kids could hunt. He also included that anyone who was not married could be tapped at need, meaning those who didn't want to join in immediately, but didn't have a family to defend, would be involved in the town's defense, too. He sat back for a while, and tried to imagine the few kids he knew from the miners' families with firearms. Skylar knew how to shoot, she just didn't like the noise. He'd get her some ear-protectors and take her out to the range again. He remembered being there with Joseph and Thomas when they'd taught Skylar and Lisa the most basic gun safety and use. Skylar had a good eye, but she wasn't the active type. Lisa had done well with it, and actually seemed to enjoy it. For all the girl insisted upon acting like a starlet, she was more a tomboy than she wanted to admit. He chuckled at the memory of Lisa, all of seven, informing him that the fanbelt on the third shaft ventilator was frayed, and could he please have it replaced before it went "kablooey"? He'd promised to check it out and she'd beamed at him like he was a god. He could remember the same expression on Emily's face when he picked her up and tossed her into he air, generally making Sylvie shriek as Emily did the same, but for a completely different reason. She'd adored him once. Kids were easy. Cute as they were, why in hell did they have to grow up? ***** On the fourteenth day after the bombs, Johnston announced the formation of a Jericho security force, yet to be named, to the assembled citizens the next morning. It had been a scheduled meeting to hear the decisions the council had made the night before. He also informed them that they were going to go ahead with the orangeries, and, depending upon the power situation, start setting up more turbines to different buildings. The shop classes had done their jobs over the past two days, and three more turbines were ready to be put together and installed. The three buildings to receive direct-feed power were Town Hall, Gracie Lee's Market, and Professional's Row, the section of downtown that was nicknamed for the dentists and doctors and other professionals who needed power for their work. At the end, Johnston asked for volunteers to join the security force to step up and sign in. One of the first to step forward was Jake Green, Johnston's black sheep son. Jonah wasn't surprised, really. He knew that Jake was a fighter. What did surprise him was when Heather Lisinski stepped up shortly after Jake. Jake looked down at Heather in surprise. She was a teacher! A mechanic! What was she doing signing up for this? He asked her in a bit more diplomatic manner. "Heather? Are you sure about this?" Emily stepped up beside Heather. He asked her the same thing, adding "You're both teachers." As if that was significant. "Yeah, well," Emily sighed, "sometimes makes it easier." She gave Jake a look that reminded him what they had been like in high school. He just shook his head. Heather gave him a more serious answer. "I know how to shoot, Jake. I learned from my dad as a kid. This is my home, too, and I'm not going to stand idly by if things go even further down the drain. Besides, I need to get back into practice again." She grinned up at him. "Wanna see my collection?" Jake stared at her. "Inherited some of it, bought some of it, got some parts as gifts." She rolled her eyes at the dazed expression on his face. "Oh, come on, Jake! Physics? Remember? You can't get more in-line with the subject area than small objects moving through cylinders at high rates of speed and then arcing and dropping and spinning to the intended destination!" Jake just shook his head. "Now gun collections? Damn." He watched as her expression grew impatient, then flashed her a dazzling smile. "Better remember not to pick on elementary school teachers anymore. Who knows what could happen to me!" Heather opened her mouth to protest, then started to chuckle as he laughed quietly. "You are such a pain in the neck," she griped. She didn't realize that their hands had twined together until he tugged her up to the WWII monument to sign into the security force. She signed first, then he did. He noted that one section of the list was for military experience. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and, when he opened them, wrote the truth. ***** Jonah, Johnston, and three others reviewed the list of names. There were several surprises on the list, including who hadn't signed up. Old Man Adams hadn't signed up, but everyone knew that was more for health and age than for lack of will to fight. They'd divided the list and each took a turn reading a name and military experience from it. When Jonah got to Jake's name, he stopped reading halfway through. "Well?" Johnston said, impatient. "Sorry. Jacob Victor Green, 3 yrs. 1 mo. U.S. Army, 2Lt.; Aviation officer & pilot/Chinook; Ranger candidate; Medical discharge during Ranger School, 2004. Transport driver/pilot for Blackthorne Ltd., 14 mos. Afghanistan, 6 mos. Iraq." His voice was steady, but this was one helluva surprise. Johnston stared at Jonah for a minute. "Let me see that," he snapped, holding out his hand. When Jonah handed the paper over, Jake's father snatched it out of his hand. "I'll be damned. Here I thought he'd been--" Johnston bit his tongue on what he was going to say. "Well, he tried to tell me this a few days ago, but I told him it didn't matter, since he'd changed so much since he'd left. Now I know why." Johnston sat back in his chair brooding. Peter Lumpkins, a man who saw no humour in his unfortunate last name, spoke to the point. "So, we put him where?" "Aside at the moment," Jonah said. "He's got enough training to be dangerous to himself and others, but no actual combat experience within a military unit. We'll find a place for him like we are the ones with no training who have long experience with firearms. In fact, put him in with Liwinski and Richmond for now. Johnston half-listened, and when the men agreed, added his nod. "All right. Next?" "Emily Sullivan," Peter read. "No military experience, firearm experience since age six." "Put her with Mitchell Cafferty in Marcus Clarind's group." "Not with Jake?" Serena Givens, a former Navy commander asked, somewhat surprised. "Won't listen to him--might just use him for target practice," Jonah smiled at his grim joke. "Jake and I are not among her favourite people, Serena." Serena nodded slowly. "All right, but this is a pretty volatile group you're handing to Marcus." "He's a reserve master sergeant in the Marines, but only because he reached sixteen years in last year and came home with a pretty nasty wound. Since he's healed up and was technically waiting for his discharge papers, he's the perfect choice. He can handle it," Johnston told her, making a note. "Besides, Emily's temper may not be held back around Jake, and Mitch is starting to settle in to life in Jericho--even if it has taken him twenty-seven years--but no one considers Marcus a pushover, no matter how quiet he may be. Next?" The list went on. The meeting had been at eight. By nine, everyone who was immediately interested had signed on, others to follow, since enrollment was open. It was now close to ten, and the men were less than a quarter of he way through their list. Eight pages of signatures in less than an hour? That was close to ten percent of the population! They were about to move on to the next name when the lights snapped on. =-+=-+=-+=-+=-+
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