Author's Notes: A special thanks goes out to Skyrose, my esteemed beta reader.
Warnings: mild profanity
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Part 2: A Tradition Continues
October 31, 2007
thirteen months after the bombs
If not for the grace of God, mechanical prowess, and problems bigger than herself, Heather Lisinski was certain she’d be a real-live (or would that be dead? she mused) ghost for Halloween. When she stopped working long enough to reflect on all that had happened, she had a difficult time believing it had been only a little more than a year since the bombs that forever altered their country. It seemed to be a lifetime ago when she rode back with her third graders from their field trip and witnessed history in the making.
How things had changed since then! For that matter, the changes wrought in the last six months alone were enough to make her head spin. Six months ago, Jericho and New Bern had just been at war, and Phil Constantino had put a bounty on her head. Strangely enough, now she was more valuable to Constantino alive than any debt of vengeance could repay.
Who would have imagined that Ms. Crossword-Puzzles-Light-Beer-and-Flannel-Pajamas herself would be knee deep in espionage? Like so many things in her life, she’d stumbled into her role as saboteur and spy unintentionally. A little repair work for Eric Green on old Oliver’s Ham radio, a ridiculous dose of curiosity, and the next thing she knew, she was communicating with the outside, bypassing the sanctioned channels of the Allied States. And then it was as though a whole new world opened up for them. Things that the A.S.A. government would have preferred to keep hidden were brought to light, like the spread of the Hudson River Virus, the plundering of multiple towns by Ravenwood, the blind eye turned to the slave trade, the loss of freedoms in many places. It had taken the Cheyenne government time to realize that small towns like Jericho were comparing notes and spreading information from the United States. It had taken even longer for Cheyenne to scramble the channels they used, but as a contingency, Heather had a backup plan in place, one which ensured the continued communication of those who would oppose the Cheyenne government.
“Last night in town, Ms. Lisinski,” Corporal Daimler said looking up at Heather from the table where he sat tinkering with some “new” used Ham radio parts Dale Turner had acquired on one of his shopping trips. “I know this has been your baby for a long time, but we’ve got it under control. You should go home and pack or spend time with friends.” His voice was friendly but firm.
Heather looked around the room laden with communications equipment. It had once served as a storage space in the basement of Jericho High School. Now she affectionately referred to it as The Dungeon. Whether she was the prisoner or warden could be left up to the interpretation of those around her.
“Right. I should.” Yet her agreement sounded so hollow in her ears. She’d already packed what few belongings she planned to take with her on her sojourn, and as for friends…
She still saw Emily from time to time, but those commonalities that had once brought them together, particularly the fact that they were about the only two young teachers in Jericho, no longer held tight. Though Heather had not completely left behind education—she taught basic mechanical skills a couple mornings a week to young people interested in learning—she had found a new calling, one that demanded much of her time. She’d been the voice of the resistance movement, helping to expedite communications, relaying information to eastern troops and neighboring towns alike; she was about to become the face of it, as well. Emily patrolled with the Rangers. She wielded a weapon far more effectively than many men that Heather knew. Emily was in the trenches, and Heather was in the basement. They may as well have been worlds apart.
At least they were on the same side.
Well, sort of.
Edward was gone. Heather wasn’t conscious of when he ceased being ‘Major Beck’ to her and became ‘Edward.’ But he was Edward now. Edward with the piercing dark eyes and calm exterior that belied an inner turmoil that she could not soothe. Edward who tried to do the right thing, but like so many people failed. Edward who made her think darkness wasn’t entirely closing in on them. Edward who held many personal demons of his own, many of which reared their ugly heads in the name of duty. She’d been so proud of him when he removed the A.S.A. patch from his uniform, and she’d been so disillusioned when she heard the full story of Jake’s detainment and Edward’s interrogation techniques some weeks later. She’d imagined him to be above the fray, that his honor could not allow such practices.
Her vivid imagination often got her in trouble.
Edward had been gone for awhile, securing the northwestern corner of Kansas along with the men and women under his command and others who joined in their cause. How nervous she’d been once Cheyenne figured out that the 10th Mountain Division had defected, even more so when the chatter that came across the airwaves indicated that other forces were coming to subdue the “traitors.” Yet as more came, more were persuaded to leave the oversight of Cheyenne. Major Edward Beck would go down in history as a man of vision and courage—provided their side won the conflict.
And Heather continued to internally try to reconcile that version of the man with the one who had imprisoned Jake.
Heather did see Stanley and Mimi from time to time mostly because of the special project on which she’d been working in Stanley’s barn. The memory of Stanley telling her, “Now that there’s not a tank in my barn, you can keep it there” still made Heather feel conflicted. Was she supposed to laugh over the ridiculousness of the statement (who keeps a tank in a barn, anyway?) or be freaked out that tanks and other weaponry were accessible to fringe groups? When she’d heard about this rag-tag group of “Marines” who had shown up in Jericho, she had been surprised at the time, though as the months wore on and she heard more and more of and from the outside world, little surprised her anymore.
Was she asking for trouble by embracing this project? Every time she found herself bent over the hood of the classic Plymouth Roadrunner trying to replace parts that had been sloppily pilfered when abandoned in New Bern, Heather wondered if it was healthy or wise for her to take this on when so many other things needed doing. She tried to tell herself that the car was too much of a beauty to let go to ruin, but when she was not busy placating her psyche, she could admit that the reason the car was important to her was because it had been important to him. So she worked on restoring it, and in the process, she enjoyed the effortless camaraderie with Stanley and Mimi. It had not been an easy for time for them as they rebuilt the pieces of their lives, as they put back together the home that had been the place the two of them fell in love, the place Bonnie had been murdered, and the place they would raise their first child when he or she arrived into the world in four months’ time.
Corporal Daimler looked at Heather with anticipation and spoke, interrupting her reverie. “So if you agree with me, what are you still doing here?”
Heather blinked. Sure she’d had many thoughts racing through her head, but it wasn’t as though she’d been standing there that long. “When did you get so pushy?” she asked with a laugh.
An easy grin filled the man’s features. “I learned from the best.” Only four weeks in Jericho, and he had become quite attached to the woman who had served as part mentor, part slave driver. Heather Lisinski ran a tight ship, but she was damned good at what she did, partly because she was so likeable. He was ready for this. She had seen to it. “The night is young.”
Heather shoved her hands in her jean pockets, still avoiding the inevitable. Here she knew what to expect. Out there—that was a different story. “It’s Halloween, you know.”
“Didn’t realize.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t seems as important anymore, does it?” Halloween had once been one of her favorite holidays, but real life horrors were far more ghastly than any imaginary ones could be.
“Saw some folks celebrating another holiday of sorts.”
Heather nodded. “It’s good that they’re back. What they did…” her voice trailed off as she remembered that day that Jake approached her, and they met with Mr. Hawkins who systematically laid before her the existence of a nuclear bomb in their midst, one that he possessed and needed her help in keeping hidden. Later when she found out that the bomb had been stolen and Jake and Mr. Hawkins had gone to retrieve it, she was afraid. Genuinely afraid. Perhaps she should have been more fearful of the consequences to the people against whom the bomb would have been used, and she was concerned for them, but her overriding fear was that Jake wouldn’t make it through the mission alive. He was daring to a fault, and she figured he’d already used about eight and a half of his nine lives. “…was very brave,” she finished.
“I’ll say. Changed the course of history. They’re part of why I’m here and not out there somewhere following orders from Cheyenne.” Corporal Michael Daimler was not part of the 10th Mountain Division; no, he was a member of the 4th Infantry Division from Fort Hood, Texas.
“Good luck, Mike.”
“Same to you, Ms. Lisinski. I’ll be seeing you—even if you won’t be seeing me.” His head tilted in the direction of the small, archaic television set situated in the corner of the room.
Heather nodded and started out the door, hesitated, and then continued on her way.
Heather had double-checked her packing list and found herself staring at her bags. Some Halloween. She walked to the kitchen and perused the mostly bare cupboards, hoping against hope that she’d find a chocolate bar she had overlooked. Halloween always brought out her sweet tooth. Finding nothing sweet, she closed the cupboard doors and wracked her brain. What had she done last Halloween?
The smallest of smiles fell upon her lips. That’s right. She’d been at Bailey’s, playing darts, and beating Jake Green mercilessly. She had been so satisfied when she saw the look of surprise on his face when she bested him again and again.
Darts sounded good. Maybe not as good as chocolate, but why not for old time’s sake?
Sometime later, she had walked to the tavern. When she arrived, she waved at Mary, who smiled in return. No sooner had Heather made her way to the gaming area and slipped off her jacket did she hear, “Up for a game?”
That voice. So familiar.
“What are the stakes?” she asked, a broad smile crossing her features as she turned around to look at the man she had not seen in many months. Her heart did a somersault as he returned her smile with a lopsided grin.
He still affected her. Whether he should or not, he did.
“Loser buys the drinks.”
Her eyebrows shot up as she moved closer to the new arrival. He held out his hand to her, and she took it. “You really are a glutton for punishment!” she laughed as their fingers intertwined, her small hand sheltered within his larger one.
And then, pulling her closer, Jake embraced her. It felt wonderfully contradictory to her. Warm and cold—warmth from his body, coolness from the fabric of his jacket. She clung to him, finally convincing herself that he was not an apparition before pushing aside the thought as silly. After all, she did know that he was back. She just had not expected to see him.
Emotion caught in her voice. “It’s good to see you, Jake.”
“You, too, Heather.” He had intended the embrace to be casual, but as he caught the scent of her hair and enjoyed the warmth of her body, he found himself holding on a moment longer than necessary or polite.
She seemed not to have noticed and offered no resistance. “I heard you were back. Everyone’s been talking about it.”
“Got back earlier today.” He commented, pulling back slightly so he could look at her. She was much like he remembered. Same blue eyes the color of the Pacific on a sunny day. Same cute nose sprinkled with freckles. Same broad smile that made her dimples appear. Her hair was chin length now, shiny as always, and bouncy. During his time away, he would find his thoughts drift to her, wondering if she was safe, if she was happy. The last time he had seen her, he had secured her help by asking her to betray someone she cared for. He’d asked her to put her life on the line. He remembered the recrimination in her eyes, the disappointment, and hoped that she would eventually be able to forgive him. “Trick or treat?”
His tone was jovial, perhaps the most jovial Heather had heard since she returned after the New Bern War, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness in them.
“Definitely a treat,” she replied with certainty as she took a step back and studied him. His hair was longer than last time she’d seen him—the day he turned himself in for Goetz’s murder, an act done to protect Stanley. Jake was taken into custody under Edward’s orders, a hood placed over his head. She’d had that image of him in her mind for longer than she cared to remember; she was glad to replace it with this image of him, smiling, safe, okay. “I can’t believe it! You look good!”
Jake laughed as he absently ran his hand over his head. “Thanks. I think.”
She giggled giddily. Her head was spinning from the surprise of seeing him. “I’m sorry! That’s sounded awful. I meant that for once you don’t have a cut on your forehead, an abrasion on your cheek, a bruise on your jaw, a busted lip…” her voice trailed off.
“I’ve been staying out of trouble.”
“Yeah, right,” she replied, her tone and expression indicating that she was decidedly unconvinced.
He leaned forward as though to make a great confession. “Okay. I remembered to duck.”
Heather nodded. “That’s more like it.”
“Ready for some ass kicking?” he asked retrieving darts from the dart rack.
“You’re still delusional,” she teased back.
As he watched her walk to the throwing line, he agreed that perhaps he was.
“Mary, if you’ll get Heather whatever she likes. I’ll have what she’s having.” He looked at Heather who sat on a stool next to him, looking pleased with herself.
“Déjà vu,” she said with an exaggerated sigh of contentment.
He shook his head. “You look so damn smug.”
“I think I’ve earned the right. That’s two years in a row, buddy,” she said playfully poking his arm.
Mary smiled knowingly from Jake to Heather. Heather was fighting the urge not to laugh at how stricken Jake looked over losing. Jake, on the other hand, had a sour expression on his face. Yet Mary could see in his eyes that his mood had lifted from when she and Eric and had seen him earlier in the day. “Still haven’t learned your lesson,” she remarked to Jake. “What’ll it be, Heather?”
“How about some of your homebrew that Jake likes so much?” Heather replied dryly.
Jake lifted his hands up in protest. “What? Did you wait for me to come back from Texas so you could kill me?” he joked.
“I thought you could hold your liquor.” There was a challenge in her voice.
Jake scoffed. “That stuff’s not liquor; it’s turpentine. And I could still drink you under the table.”
Heather’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Everyone needs a talent. Right Mary?”
Mary poured two shots from a glass jar. “Oh no. I’m staying out of this one.” With a wink, she turned to tend to other customers.
Jake glanced around. “I feel like I just left here, but everything’s different. It feels different.”
Heather tilted her head. “Yeah. Mary’s done some redecorating, courtesy of Ravenwood.” Her cheerful expression turned darker, more contemplative.
“I should’ve been here,” Jake murmured taking a sip of his drink.
“Hey, you did what you had to do, Jake. If you and Mr. Hawkins hadn’t, think of what would have happened.” Heather looked down, realized that she had unconsciously touched his arm for assurance, and let go.
Jake looked Heather squarely in the eyes. “I heard you helped change Major Beck’s mind about us, about Jericho. Thank you for that.”
Heather’s face began to color. She didn’t want Jake’s praise, not where Edward Beck was concerned. “That computer had the proof. I didn’t do anything, Jake.”
“You made him look at it. Really look at it.”
She lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed the liquid, still as potent as she remembered. “Edward is a good man. He would’ve gotten it right eventually.”
Edward. The use of a familiar name, Beck’s given name, jarred Jake. Much had changed in six months’ time. Truth was, he didn’t know what he would do if he saw Beck again. Jake felt like he owed him a fist in the nose and gratitude rolled in one. Jake had heard stories of how the 10th Mountain Division protected Jericho and northwestern Kansas, that the division stood between Cheyenne and the insurgents. Yet Jake couldn’t shake the memory of Beck trying to break him, depriving him of sleep, of water. Dangling his loved ones like a carrot on a stick. Hiding behind his damned uniform and spurious orders. Jake tried to push aside the thought. There’d be time to work through all of that later.
“So, no Halloween party this year on Main Street,” Jake began casually.
“No. Real life is scary enough, Gray decided.” Heather’s somber tone gave way to a mischievous one. “If you ask me, he just didn’t want people to remember how he ran down the street with a loaded weapon, ready to fire into the crowd if need be.”
Jake grinned. “I’ve missed you, Heather.”
His confession startled her, but the start gave way to delight, working its way subtly into her consciousness. “Right back at you, Jake.” She cleared her throat. “So, how long are you back?”
“Indefinitely. Stayed in Texas longer than I wanted.”
“As I hear it, you didn’t have much of a choice.” Certain elements within the Texas government, understandably suspicious of Hawkins and Jake, had not viewed their actions as heroic. Oh, they brought the truth with them on that plane to Texas—and more than a planeload of trouble. Some wanted Texas to maintain its autonomy and proceed as a nation independent of the U.S. or A.S. governments, sidestepping the growing tensions.
If Jake thought getting the Texans on board was difficult—and this was after Chavez had been there for several weeks greasing the wheels—getting a plan of action was another beast altogether. Weeks spent strategizing, training troops for what they would encounter fighting on the homefront, and making contact with the east had not been easy, but it had been necessary.
“Wish everyone felt that way. Emily is still pretty pissed.” Jake couldn’t say that he really blamed her. He left for Texas without saying goodbye to her, just like he’d blown out of town five years before then without a word.
“She’ll get over it,” Heather encouraged, though Jake looked doubtful. “I mean, look at what the two of you have been through. She’s not going to throw that away.”
“No. That’s my role,” he grumbled.
“Once things get back to normal, it will get better. I mean it. Think about the positive changes in just the last six months alone. Cheyenne is getting pushed back further and further. The British have recognized Columbus as the capital of the United States, and other countries are bound to follow suit. And did you see the flag outside of town hall?”
Jake nodded. “U.S. flag. Fifty stars. Quite symbolic.”
“Yes. And a good reminder that what’s happening now means something. What you did means something, Jake. Ready to have high schools named after you?”
Jake took a swig of his drink, then replied with a lopsided smile, “Hell no.”
“I always thought I was patriotic, but until I was faced with losing our country, losing the people I love, I never fully grasped patriotism.”
“I hear I wasn’t the only busy one in the last six months. That code you used to get messages to Columbus, how you piggy-backed messages using Cheyenne’s own communications systems. That was impressive. How’d you learn to do that?”
Heather laughed lightly, deflecting the praise. “I knew a guy once.”
Jake recognized his own words being thrown back to him. “I’m guessing you didn’t blow him up.”
Heather laughed. “Can’t say I’m regretting that lack of popularity in junior high now! Who knew a simple binary code would be considered so revolutionary? Literally?”
“Binary Code Club. Where no 1’s a 0.”
They both groaned at the bad joke.
“You hungry?” Jake asked.
“Wow. You are a gracious loser tonight, after all. Springing for food and drinks?”
“I figure I owe you.” He slid off his barstool, his expression serious. “Want to go grab a booth?”
She nodded and followed where he led. They settled in a corner booth, Jake sliding in after her. He sat close and stretched an arm on the back of the seat. Being close to him was making it difficult to maintain her composure, and how she needed to maintain it! “What do you mean you owe me? It was just a game of darts.” Heather’s brows furrowed as she tried to imagine what made Jake think he owed her anything. A few drinks, maybe. But that was it, and that was only in good fun.
“Not just for the dart game.” He paused, shaking his head slightly as he bit the inside of his mouth. “I wasn’t a good friend to you, Heather.”
“Come on! Where is this coming from?” she scoffed. The last thing she wanted to do was relive the past. It was too messy, too embarrassing.
“Before I left for Rogue River, you kissed me. Then I didn’t follow up.” How many women had kissed him in his life? Dozens? He wasn’t even sure, it was all a blur. But one kiss that wasn’t a blur was that kiss on Main Street. It was crisp, forever on the edge of his memory. He still recalled the worry in Heather’s eyes as he readied to leave for Rogue River, the litany of warnings she gave him about her truck, and how she’d surprised him with an unplanned goodbye kiss. He remembered the gentle curves of her body as he had pulled her closer and held her. Her lips had been warm and soft, as she gave, as she took. She had tasted of cinnamon and mint, of goodness and innocence. She reminded him of what was right in the world, even when there was so much darkness around him.
Heather looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and then met his eyes. She tried her best to sound nonchalant though she had felt foolish and hurt and angry. What did it matter now? Regrets weren’t going to change anything. “Jake, it’s okay. You weren’t interested. No big deal. I didn’t lose sleep over it. Well, maybe a little, but that was practically a lifetime ago.”
“I was interested,” he corrected her. He had been so sure he was going to hurt her in the long run that he figured it would be better to hurt her in the short run.
Heather pursed her lips, the look on her face reminding Jake of that day when he and Hawkins had approached Heather for help and how wounded she had been. “Why are you telling me this?”
That day wouldn’t leave him in peace, either. “Because you deserve an apology and more. I also put you in a bad position when I asked you to steal those papers from Beck’s office.” His voice softened. “When I saw you tonight, I wasn’t sure you’d even want to see me.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears and then folded her hands in her lap in an effort not to nervously play with her fingers. “Jake, I’m not some delicate flower. Yes, I was disappointed. Disappointed that I’d agree to betray someone I care about. Disappointed with myself that all it took for me to do that was you asking.” Heather paused, remembering the hold Jake had over her. She still felt the familiar tug. “But I don’t live my life dwelling on disappointments. I meant it when I said that I am glad you’re back.”
His voice remained neutral. “So you and Beck…?”
“Okay. Awkward.” Her face felt flushed. In the dim light of Bailey’s and their close proximity, could Jake see this? It occurred to her to tell him to mind his own business, but she wanted him to know she hadn’t been waiting for him. She needed him to know. Exhaling loudly, she finally said, “That’s complicated.”
“Simplify it for me.” It was a gentle command, perhaps one that would not have hit Heather so hard if she could put what was happening into adequate words.
“Sure. I’ll get right on that once someone simplifies it for me. I care about him. He cares about me.”
Jake’s jaw line hardened. “He’s a damn lucky man.”
Heather’s hand found a string on her jeans, and she couldn’t help but tug at it nervously as she spoke. “Well, he’s out there somewhere doing his job, and I’m here doing mine, so neither of us is getting very lucky. With relationships, I mean.” She paused, realizing how her words could be construed as a double entendre and groaned. “That so didn’t need to be said.”
“It’s just me, Heather. I’ve said and done far worse. Intentionally.”
Heather nearly snorted. There was no such thing as ‘Just Jake.’ He really didn’t know how special he was to her. “So what’s your grand scheme? Stick around here?”
“That’s the plan,” Jake replied. “For the time being. I’m sure there will be things to come up, things I’ll need to take care of, but I’ve been gone long enough.”
“Good,” she replied smoothing the front of his jacket, feeling the coarseness under her fingertips. His eyes fell to her hand before he reached down and took it in his own. Her eyes fluttered slightly before she continued, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Folks’ll be glad to have you back. You’ll give them hope.” She fell silent before adding, “Hmmm.”
“What?” His fingers stroked her palm lightly causing her heart to quicken.
The way Jake held her hand was more than friendly, and sitting next to him, she found herself wanting so much more. Suddenly all her talk of not having regrets went out the window as she began to speak, as reality set in that he was back, she would be going, and for the first time, regretted it, regretted the possibility she would be leaving behind. “Just thinking how ironic this is. You left Jericho. I moved to Jericho to teach. You came back to Jericho. I left for New Bern. I came back to Jericho. You left for Cheyenne and then Texas. You came back to Jericho, and now I’m leaving for Columbus.”
Jake felt like the wind had been knocked out of him and spoke more forcefully than he’d intended. “You’re leaving?”
“Yep.”
His mind was racing. “When?”
“Tomorrow. I’m consulting with President Charles. This code has netted me some political capital and given me the President’s ear. I intend to use that capital.” Heather had many issues dear to her heart that needed addressing, issues that she feared were being overlooked. “I also have another little project.” Perhaps ‘little’ was an understatement, but she felt ridiculous when she spoke of the specifics.
“It’s still not safe out there,” Jake said glumly.
“Compared to how it used to be? I’m ready for this, Jake. I’ve been trying to do so many small things to make a difference, but I have the opportunity to make a difference on a bigger scale.” She shook her head ruefully. “I must sound so naïve to you.”
“No,” he disagreed gently. “You sound hopeful.”
“I’m a big girl. I’m ready for this,” she repeated. “Besides, having a full military escort sure isn’t going to hurt. Guess it pays to have friends in high places. I’m going to be fine.”
She spoke cheerily, almost too cheerily. It reminded Jake of when she left for New Bern, plunging full speed ahead into hell. Could he let her do this? Could he let her leave knowing that she might never come back? But as he looked at the excitement in her eyes, the fiery determination, how could he compete with that? He couldn’t make promises, not with things being unfinished with Emily, not with things being unsettled all around them.
He cocooned her hand between both of his. “You better. Or else.”
“Or else? Or else what?”
Or else some of the goodness and hope will be gone from my life. Or else I’ll never have the chance to… Jake’s eyes widened in realization. Over the course of his months away, his thoughts kept returning to her. He never thought about why that was until now. He wanted her, and she wanted someone else and a different life than Jericho had to offer.
So when he spoke, he camouflaged his feelings. He owed her this. He owed it to her to let go.
For now.
“Or else I won’t have anyone who can kick my ass in darts.”