He walked out into the bright, late morning sun. He paused a moment before beginning to walk along the street.
You're not getting tired of the show yet are you?
'You talk like this is just a game. I was going to be the best man at their wedding, Freddie.'
I know, I saw your friend asking you. Brought tears to my eyes, man.
'Next you're going to give me some speech about how you're always watching?' Jake chuckled again.
Not right now, amigo. First I gotta tell you you're going the wrong way. Remember your invite? You've got a meeting with the new mayor.
Jake made a face. He'd wanted to find his mother and brother right away, and had forgotten completely about Gray. 'Does it really matter? It's not like it'll have any long-term effect if I skip that part right?'
Wrong. I'm the tour guide. Town hall is our next stop.
Jake sent an irritated grimace to his guide, but turned around and headed for town hall. Like all the other buildings, it had obviously seen its share of damage. He went through the front door, surprised at how easily he could enter without being noticed. Not like New Bern, he thought as he walked up to the main desk.
Gray's patrolmen are all over town. They stop the bad guys before they even get near here. Didn't you get what the bartender was telling you?
“Hi. I'm here to see Gray Anderson.”
Skylar Stevens sat at a reception desk. She barely looked up. “Who should I say is here?”
“Jake Green.”
She looked up, no doubt tuned in to his last name. She of course didn't know him to talk to, but seemed to recognize him from a distant memory. “Of course. Follow me.”
She gave a small smile before getting up from behind the desk, and leading him down the hall. He glanced around at the walls as they got closer to the familiar office he'd visited so often in his life.
She motioned for him to wait, and knocked on the door, going in briefly before coming out to invite him to enter.
He stepped towards the door with some apprehension. Though at his last encounter with Gray he'd been very happy to see him, the things he'd heard from Mary made him feel less inclined to greet this Gray with the same enthusiasm.
Inside, Gray had been sitting at a desk, but he got up quickly to shake hands with Jake. He was, in fact, very friendly.
“So glad you could make it. So glad to hear you're home safe! Your family must be thrilled.” He was almost giddy.
“Wouldn't know. Haven't seen them yet,” Jake said darkly. Gray paused for a moment, and adopted a slightly more serious tone.
“Well, thanks for stopping in here first. I'll let you get to them as soon as possible.” He gestured to a chair, and Jake sat, never breaking eye contact with the man who had taken his father's place. “You were dying to speak with me?” he asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage.
“We've made it a policy to chat with all new-comers, whether they're refugees from somewhere else or former citizens. We've got to know who we're dealing with. Of course, in your case, I admit it's a bit different. Have you spoken to anyone else since you've arrived?”
Jake was fairly certain Gray already knew the answer, but played along. “I saw Mary at Bailey's. She filled me in on some things.”
Gray spoke carefully. “Did she tell you about...”
“My father?” asked Jake, almost enjoying the obvious signs of discomfort Gray was showing. “She did. Told me about April too.”
“Look, Jake, I want you to know how sorry I am, for both your losses. We all lost two people that meant a great deal to this town.” Gray was offering his best look of sympathy.
“I hear you lost more than that. I hear you lost part of the town. Everything past the Tacoma bridge.” He directed a pointed look across the Mayor's desk.
Gray squirmed. “Yes. Things have been rough here, and some unfortunate consequences have been the result. I'm sure Mary Bailey told you what things were like before we blew up the bridge. We were losing a lot more than a few farms. Every other week, we were being picked clean of everything we had. Mercenaries, Jonah Prowse, strangers. We had to do something to keep these people out.” He was getting more impassioned as he spoke.
“How is the town surviving without those farms? What is everyone eating?” asked Jake.
“We've got other farms. We're doing what we can. If you can think of a better way to do things, you can go back in time and fix them. You can bring back the bridge while you're at it.” He glared at Jake.
Jake was silent, glowering at Gray. He had seen a different way, he had seen these people happier, safer, and freer. He couldn't say so.
“Right, it doesn't matter now. We've already gone to hell, Jake, it's already here. All I can do is make the best of a bad situation.” He looked genuinely sad now. Jake knew that look well. He had seen it the day New Bern had sent the mortars into Main Street. He knew Gray had a heart and a conscience, but he thought again of Mimi at the bar, and his family and friends that weren't even frequenting Bailey's anymore, and found it hard to have sympathy for Gray.
“Okay, I get it. You did what you could. I really want to get going home so...”
“Jake, I wanted to talk to you for another reason. I need you to tell me what you know.”
“Excuse me?”
Gray began making his plea. “You're gonna have to tell me. What's going on out there? We're in the dark here and we need to find out everything we can. Where did you come from? What did you hear out there?”
Jake was confused. “I thought there was a big army presence in town now. Can't they tell you everything you need to know?”
Gray sighed. “You'd think. They're not telling us much. They just arrived a few days ago, flew in in helicopters. They said they're here to secure the area. No news about the outside, just that they're starting to rebuild. So far, we haven't seen any of it. I don't know what they want. We can't protect the salt mine, if that's what they want.”
“They're not here to help you?” whispered Jake. As suspicious he had been of the A.S.A government's arrival in his own present-day Jericho, they had at least made some effort to show they were helping the town.
“Not so much as I've heard. There was a unit of marines that came to town a long time back and they promised they would put us on a list for aid. Never heard from them again. This government though- haven't been much help at all. Maybe they think we're beyond help.” He looked at Jake, a silent desperation in his eyes.
Jake sighed. 'Some things are the same, no matter when I come home. What should I tell him? What could possibly help them?'
Not much. They're sitting ducks here, no matter how much information you can give them. Does that make a difference to you?
'I don't know. I don't think things could get much worse for them though.'
You haven't even seen the worst yet. Aren't you getting curious? Let's just tell Gray something and head out.
Jake gave Gray a brief story, inspired by Freddie's coaching, about a hard winter in the desert, and a dangerous trip across New Mexico. He didn't know much, he told Gray; most people out there didn't. You could hear twenty different pieces of conflicting information in one week. He didn't mention Cheyenne or Texas.
Finally, he was excused by a thoroughly disappointed Gray. As he walked down the hall again, and turned the corner around the reception desk, he was startled once more by his name.
“Jake!” He turned to look at Skylar. She had stood up when she saw him coming.
“Yeah?” he asked, wondering if he had ever spoken to little Skylar Stevens before he had left Jericho those years before. Probably not.
“You probably don't remember me. Skylar Stevens. My dad owned the salt mine.”
He nodded, wondering where this was going, why her eyes had taken on a sparkle.
“I'm really sorry about your father. He was a good man. A great mayor.”
He was somewhat taken aback. In all his recent dealings with Skylar, she had never expressed anything of the sort.
“If there's anything I can do, if there's anything you need, just let me know. I'm here every day.”
He sensed there was something more to the excitement evident on her face when he arrived, but as he was eager to get outside and find his family, he just smiled and thanked her.
He strode quickly out of town hall, and as he was crossing the lawn, he noticed two familiar faces. Jimmy and Bill stood, at the side of town hall, inspecting the wall. Quickly, he walked over to his old friends.
They were staring at a big slogan scrawled across the brick. “Johnston Green for Mayor”.
They were discussing it as he approached, and both jumped when he said, “Deputy Taylor, Deputy Kholer- How long has it been?”
They were the first people he'd met so far to accurately resemble someone looking at a ghost. Bill's eyes looked like they'd pop out of his head. Jimmy had gone white.
“No welcome home?” asked Jake, almost sarcastically, though remembering what he'd heard about Jimmy, he couldn't bring himself to tease him much.
Bill was the first to recover. “I can't believe it. Where the hell did you come from?” He gave Jake a hearty handshake. Jimmy also reached out a hand, a more solemn look on his face. “Welcome back Jake.”
“So where did you come from? We thought you were gone for sure,” Bill sputtered.
“No, just taking my time, enjoying the warmer weather.” He tried to joke, but both men seemed distracted. He followed their gaze back to the wall.
“What's with the graffitti? I would have thought Gray would have ordered someone to wash that off by now,” Jake asked with a smirk.
“He hasn't seen it yet,” said Bill grimly.
At Jake's quizzical look, Jimmy added “It's new. First time we saw it was this morning.”
“What...why?” asked Jake.
Jimmy shrugged. “Someone's been doing it for months- writing things on walls. Sometimes stuff about your father, sometimes stuff about Gray- no compliments for him. He gets upset every time. It's usually just written in charcoal or something that comes off easily, but Gray is always furious. He always says he'll catch whoever it is.”
“Like someone writing on the wall is the worst thing we have to deal with around here,” said Bill. He gave a scornful laugh.
Jimmy looked grim. “He is really serious about it. He dragged Mary in for questioning when someone drew a picture of him on her window. He was so mad she couldn't say she'd seen who it was. Same with the church- he questioned everyone who was working there. Even Reverand Matthews. Then he even wanted us to stake out Main Street, since that seems to be the culprit's favourite place to hit.” Jimmy took a breath.
“Why does he care? I thought people were starving and freezing and killing each other?” asked Jake.
“Yeah, and Gray tries to keep them in order while they do. Doesn't want anyone questioning the little hold we have left on this town. Whoever it is, they're doing a pretty good job. We've got patrols everywhere at night. Haven't caught him once.” Bill sighed. “I've seen people doing unbelievable things, but I've never seen the graffiti writer at work.”
Jake almost chuckled. If only someone writing on walls really was the biggest problem. “I'll leave you guys to deal with this then. I've got to get home.”
“Right. Take care of yourself Jake,” said Jimmy, Bill echoing him.
As he walked north towards the med centre, Jake let himself take in all the horrible scenes around him. It was a worse sight than the one that had greeted him when he'd come back into town after the battle at Richmond Ranch. As he turned onto Fifth Street, the hollowed shell of the library came into view. Almost nothing was left of it, or the buildings around it. It left a gaping hole, leaving space to see the streets behind it. The houses on those streets were just as dilapidated as the ones around him.
'No one's trying to rebuild it now.'
There's not many left to rebuild it. There's only one thing the government wants with this town, and only a few things anyone else wants from it. Everything past the bridge belongs to New Bern now, and the salt mine is Gray's.
'But why are they all sitting back and taking it? The people I know would never let this happen to them.'
A lot of things have happened, and many are simply beyond all of this now Jake.
Freddie had lost all traces of his usual joking manner. It sent a chill through Jake to hear.