Deluge (The Best Thrillers Book 2) James Best (best e book reader .TXT) 📖

interesting than Epcot Center’s European villages, so she had never returned. Like the Disney World appendage, the district vainly attempted to evoke another culture, but the Haight was a culture displaced by time rather than geography. As a historian, Baldwin did not find ersatz nostalgia appealing.

On this visit, Haight-Ashbury looked even more tawdry. The blackout accentuated the gaudiness of the neighborhood, making the hippie trappings seem forged and at times shoddy. The people also seemed lethargic. Gathered on every street corner, they just stood chatting or watching listlessly. Umbrellas obscured close inspection of faces, but Baldwin noticed a few attempted to appear menacing.

“Neighborhood watch?” Baldwin asked.

“Exactly,” Smith said. “These aren’t perpetrators; they’re on the lookout for perpetrators. I could be wrong, but I don’t think this is where trouble will come from.”

“What about when the sun sinks into the ocean?”

“After dark?” Smith said. “Maybe … but I still don’t think so. Haight-Ashbury has a brand to protect, so it’s not in their interest to plunder other neighborhoods. But … I wonder?”

“What?” Baldwin asked.

“Look around. Nothing but calm. Except … some of these supposed neighborhood guardians appear wary. Have they heard something to put them on alert?” He looked around. “Let’s ask.”

Smith approached a group of four men standing bareheaded in the rain. Baldwin followed him, keeping a few paces back. The men focused their attention on her and appeared unintimidated by Smith. Baldwin suspected this was the real reason Smith wanted her along. A nice-looking woman provided camouflage. She chuckled when she looked down at her soiled full-length trench coat. Dressed the way she was, she wouldn’t attract that type of attention, especially with the brim of her Tilley hat pulled down against the rain.

“Hi, guys,” Smith said. “We’re from Duboce Triangle. Have you heard anything?”

Their eyes shifted to assess this stranger. “About what?” one of them asked.

“About trouble. I haven’t seen a single cop since we left home. What gives?”

“What gives?” the same guy repeated. “Hell, no water, no electricity, no cops, no TV, no internet, and shitty cell service. I’ll tell ya what gives. People’s tolerance for this crap. Everyone’s edgy … and not in a good way. That’s what gives.”

“Things are quiet east of here. Any news of riots in other parts of the city?”

“Not yet, but they’re comin’. The homeless are breakin’ into dwellin’s, but only in bad neighborhoods.” He laughed. “Dumb shits. Anarchy reigns, and they rob people just one step up the ladder. They should go rob the rich fucks in Pacific Heights.”

“What do you mean, they’re coming?” Smith asked. “The homeless?”

“Naw, the homeless can’t come, they’re already everywhere. No, I’m talkin’ the bad boys amassing in Golden Gate Park. They’re lookin’ fer a payday.”

“Cops?” Smith asked.

“Up in the Heights … and points north and east, I suppose. What’s left of ’em. Rumor is that nearly a third of the force skedaddled to parts unknown. Probably an exaggeration, but I know my cop cousin escorted his family out of town. Says he’s comin’ back … but.” He threw his hands wide.

Baldwin asked her first question. “No disrespect, but can four of you handle them?”

“We got more. We trade stayin’ dry. ’Sides, we don’t need to handle ’em, just encourage ’em to seek easier pickin’s” He laughed again. “Hell, maybe we’ll send ’em to Duboce Triangle.”

Smith looked up the street, contemplating. He turned back to the leader. “Want some advice?”

“Long as it doesn’t cost more than two cents.”

“When they come, they’ll swarm, eager to pillage … and possibly rape. You can’t stop them. They’ll come on like the floodwaters. You might be able to divert them, turn them from your neighborhood, but it will take physical force, not mere presence. Presence gets rolled over. This will be their first target. You’re the closest. Lots of glass window fronts that provide easy access for looting. If you want your district to survive, get ready to rumble … seriously rumble.”

“Been there?” the leader asked, no longer cocky.

“Not in the good ol’ US of A, but yeah, I’ve been there,” Smith said. “Mob psychology is a force unto itself. You can’t control it. You need to confront it with loud, brutal force; otherwise you can’t get its attention. That … or you need to let it burn itself out.”

“That doesn’t work for us. This is our home. They can’t take it.”

“Then get some baseball bats, helmets, knee pads, and anything else you can fight with. Don’t just look mean, be mean.”

The four men traded glances. One of them slapped Smith on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

“One last question. Is it dangerous to venture into the park?”

“Naw. Safe as can be,” the leader said. “Nothin’ but pussy cats in that damn park.”

Now Smith laughed. “I’ll take that as a ‘not safe.’”

“Smart man. That park’s fillin’ with the dregs of the city. They think it’s time to get even. Stay away. In fact, get on home and find a baseball bat, helmet, and knee pads. Ya know, just in case they blow by us.”

Smith nodded to himself. “I’ll talk to my neighbors. Maybe I can convince them to come up here. Build a human shield against the barbarians.”

“Yeah, you do that. The more, the merrier.”

Chapter 47

Evarts hung up the desk phone in his office. Walsh had certainly made his job easier. With a single call, Evarts had arranged for FEMA emergency supplies to be airlifted into Vandenberg Air Force Base, and after a second call, the base commander allocated enough trucks to get the supplies distributed to Lompoc, Buellton, Solvang, and the rescue centers in the remainder of the county.

Santa Maria remained a challenge. Street gangs had reinfiltrated from the north and south, in part because they were evacuees from flood-ravished areas, but also to lay claim to new territory. Evarts felt grateful that Santa Maria had a capable police force and that he had a good relationship with the chief and his immediate reports.

He had been on the phone for hours. He took a deep breath and reevaluated