World Order

by Mark Goodwin

  “Agreed.” Josh lowered himself gently to the forest floor and braced the barrel of his rifle on his knee. “Take your shot during the commotion. Maybe we can take out a couple of them before they realize we’re in the woods with them.”

  “10-4.” Emilio knelt down and took aim.

  The next eruption of gunfire began, with the hostiles and Micah’s team both firing hotly. Josh lined up his shot. A heavy-set man with an AR-15 was leaning against a thick poplar. Josh pulled the trigger, and the man’s head pressed into the trunk of the tree before his body slid to the ground. Josh watched another of the assailants fall, thanks to a precision shot from Emilio, no doubt. Josh took aim at another unsuspecting attacker and fired again. Likewise, the man fell.

  One of his comrades noticed he was dead. He directed his flashlight toward Josh and Emilio. “They’re in the trees!”

  Another man yelled, “Pull out. Let’s go! We’re done for the night.”

  Josh and Emilio continued shooting at the enemy throughout their retreat, but the two did not give chase. Once Josh felt sure the enemy was out of range, he called over the radio, “Is everyone okay?”

  Nicole replied. “No trouble here at the house.”

  Josh pressed the talk key. “Micah, is your team good?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine.”

  Josh made another call. “Mackenzie, are you okay?”

  “I think so,” said a frightened voice.

  “Poochy.” Josh waited for the reply. “Pooch, give us a shout if you can hear.” He looked at his partner.

  “You can’t get a signal in the cave if you’re more than ten feet inside,” said Emilio.

  “We’ll go check on him.” Josh clipped his radio back on his belt.

  “Keep an eye on these downed hostiles when we pass them.” Emilio directed his light to the fallen assailants. He shot each one in the head as they passed.

  Micah called over the radio, “Are you guys taking fire?”

  Josh answered. “Nope. Just mopping up. We’re going back to the cave to check on Poochy. Radio signal isn’t going through.”

  “Want me to come along?” asked Micah.

  “Yeah, meet us at the creek. Have Christina and Lindsey collect Mackenzie from the RV and escort her to the farmhouse. We’ll all hole up there for the rest of the evening. I want to make sure these guys don’t come back around for another pass.”

  “10-4,” said Micah.

  Josh and Emilio collected the firearms of the dead attackers on the way to the creek. Micah was waiting for them when they arrived. The three of them followed the stream back to the opening of the cave. Josh called into the cavity, “Poochy, we’re coming in.”

  Still, no answer came. One side of Emilio’s mouth turned up. “You don’t think he could have slept through the whole thing, do you?”

  Josh lifted his shoulders. “It’s pretty quiet in there, but that was a lot of action.” Josh stepped carefully on the make-shift bridge, which allowed them to enter the cave without wading through the water. “Pooch, you in there?”

  He shined his light up the embankment to the area called the shelf. He saw Poochy resting, still in his sleeping bag. “I guess he did sleep through it. Poochy, wake up.”

  “Wow, he’s going to get a kick out of this story.” Emilio walked to the cot. “Poochy, get up, buddy.”

  Josh saw the expression on Emilio’s face change dramatically. He focused the beam of his flashlight on the sleeping bag. The dark blue material had camouflaged the deep crimson stains around the pockmarks of Poochy’s bedding.

  Micah stood over him with a long face. “He’s dead?”

  Josh nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  Emilio turned on the small camping lantern sitting on a crate next to Poochy’s cot. The luminescence revealed that the few supplies, which had been left in this section of the cave, were now gone.

  Josh examined the empty space where the buckets had been. “That’s why they pulled out. The attack on the trailer was just a diversion so a secondary team could get in and loot the cave.”

  Emilio glanced back at Poochy. “He never felt a thing. They shot him in his sleep.”

  “That tells us a lot about what kind of people we’re dealing with,” said Micah.

  Josh added, “It’s a lot bigger group than we initially thought, also. We have to change up our strategy. I never should have allowed us to go this long with such a porous line of defense. I should have parked the RV and the trailer by the house when the others first arrived. We need to place them in the back yard to make a triangle, like circling the wagons. And everyone needs to be sleeping in the camp.” He looked at Poochy, another member of his group dead. “This is my fault. He never should have died.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.” Emilio put his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “We all thought we were safe out here, just the way things were—myself included.”

  “I should have known better. Now, this group of bandits thinks we’re a soft target. They’ll be back, and we have no way of knowing where they went.”

  “You killed three of them. I doubt they were expecting that,” said Micah. “I bet they think twice before coming around here again.”

  Emilio picked up a few grains of rice from the floor of the cave. “And let’s not be too quick to say we can’t find them.”

  Josh looked at the rice. “What’s that?” He glanced up at Emilio. “Rice leaking out of a bullet hole?” He turned to Poochy’s lifeless corpse. “He couldn’t have gotten off a shot.” Josh looked around. “I don’t even see his guns. I think they took them.”

  “You told me and Poochy to leave a few buckets as low-hanging fruit. We figured drilling a hole in the bottom of one might come in handy.” Emilio looked at his dead companion on the cot. “It was Poochy’s idea, actually.”

  Josh walked toward the exit. More grains of rice littered the floor. “We’ll have to wait for morning to try to follow this. Even so, I doubt it will take us right to their doorstep.”

  “Maybe not,’ said Emilio. “But it might get us pointed in the general vicinity. Plus, this was a big movement. At least ten people. We’ll find tracks if we look.”

  Josh considered all the work awaiting him on the following day: a memorial service, relocating the trailers, digging a grave, disposing of the deceased attackers’ bodies, and tracking down the hostiles. “We better get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be brutal.”

  CHAPTER 23

  The laws that forbid the carrying of arms are laws of such a nature. They disarm only those who are neither inclined nor determined to commit crimes.... Such laws make things worse for the assaulted and better for the assailants; they serve rather to encourage than to prevent homicides, for an unarmed man may be attacked with greater confidence than an armed man.

  Thomas Jefferson

  Poochy’s memorial service felt odd to Josh. The last one had been for his wife. He’d known Poochy, gotten along with him well enough, but Josh experienced a certain numbness that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. This was nothing like the wrenching pain that had all but crippled him at Stephanie’s funeral. And, unlike the previous memorials, everyone stood side by side while Josh read a few verses from Scripture and offered a short prayer. All the other services had been during the quarantine.

  However, the graves were still fresh—this one thing they had in common. Likewise, each mound of earth marked by a simple wooden cross, held a member of the community, one who would not be there any longer to help with food preparation, gardening, security, conversation, or emotional support.

  With heads bowed, the group sang Amazing Grace as a benediction to the service. Once finished, Josh lifted his weary eyes and looked at the dwindling survivors of the compound, some gazing at Poochy’s grave, some still crying, and others simply appearing introspective. “You’re all dismissed. Mackenzie has lunch prepared for everyone inside the farmhouse. After you’re finished eating, Christina and Nicole will be in charge of relocating the mobile ho
using units, covering up the broken windows, and patching up the holes in the walls. Micah and Lindsey are on security. Emilio and I will be heading out to see if we can track down our attackers.” He watched Lindsey huff as she crossed her arms and walked away.

  Lunch was a simple meal of rice and beans. One small can of chicken had been mixed in with the rice to give the dish a little added flavor, but that was the only meat for the entire group. No one complained. Lucius Alexander’s OASIS cities were far from being completed and most of the world was in a state of utter famine.

  Mackenzie sat at the table next to Josh. He complimented the meal, “I like everything being mixed together like this.”

  “Thank you,” she said modestly.

  “You seem like you’re doing okay,” he said. “You were pretty shaken up last night.”

  She raked her fork across the rice. “Yeah, I’ve never been involved in something like that, something so violent.”

  “Mmmhmm. We’ve got plenty of guns. More triggers than people to pull them these days,” he said in a solemn tone. “If you change your mind about learning to shoot, any one of us would be happy to work with you; Christina, Emilio, myself.”

  She took a drink of water and shook her head. “Guns are the problem. I can’t see how learning to shoot is going to solve that.”

  “I understand your conviction. However, I will remind you that the people who attacked us last night don’t share your beliefs.” Josh spoke in a hushed voice to keep the conversation between himself and Mackenzie, but he looked at the others sitting around the table. “And if the rest of us thought the way you do, I doubt anyone would be left to even bury us.”

  “Maybe, but maybe not.”

  “Explain,” said Josh.

  “If we’d not been armed, I don’t think they would have wasted bullets on us. They’d have come in, taken what they wanted, and left.”

  Josh nodded. “And what if young women were one of the things they wanted?”

  Mackenzie needed no further explanation of that statement. She shivered and said nothing.

  “Even if that wasn’t part of their agenda, I’m sure they would have taken all of our food. We would have starved.”

  Mackenzie sighed. “We’re all going to die anyway.”

  “True, but starvation is a bad way to go. I’ve been shot, and I’ve been hungry. I’d rather take a bullet.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” she said. “You didn’t eat the whole time the agents had you locked up, right?”

  Josh recollected the miserable experience while being held by DGS. “That was just a few days. It takes more than a month without food to die of starvation. It would be a long, slow, painful death.”

  Mackenzie stared at the rice at the end of her fork, as if gaining a new appreciation for the meager meal. “I wish none of this were happening.”

  Josh replied, “I think that’s something we can both agree on.”

  Lindsey finished her plate and took it to the sink. Afterward, she approached Josh. “May I speak to you for a moment, Mr. Stone?”

  “Excuse me,” Josh said to Mackenzie. He stood up and followed Lindsey into the living room. “What’s up?”

  “I tried to explain my situation to you.” She stuck her hands in her front jean pockets. “About Micah, I mean.”

  “Yes, but the two of you seemed to be getting along okay last evening.”

  “I don’t hate him. I’m not even mad. If we’re in a gunfight, of course, I’m going to back him up. And I trust that he’d do the same for me. But…”

  Josh nodded. “I know. It’s complicated.”

  “Yeah, it’s complicated.”

  “Be that as it may, you two are going to have to work together. We’re all in survival mode here. When you’re off duty, you’re free to do whatever you like. But I’ve got enough going on without having to take jilted romances into consideration when scheduling tasks. You’re going to have to get used to being around Micah. Unfortunately, this crisis is going to get worse before it gets better.”

  She looked at the floor, letting her long straight hair fall over her face. “I understand. But Micah really hurt me. If you could give me another month or so to deal with it, I promise I’ll work through it.”

  Josh hadn’t realized how deeply she felt about the issue. He’d figured it was more of a way to get back at Micah for snubbing her. “Ask Nicole to take your security shift. You can help your mom move and repair the trailer and the RV.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Stone.”

  Emilio walked into the room. “Ready?”

  “I’ve got a couple more bites to finish. My gear is already packed.”

  “Okay.” Emilio slapped him on the arm. “Daylight is burning. We might have a long hike. Plus, critters and birds might get to the rice.”

  “I’ll meet you on the porch. Give me five minutes.” Josh hurried to finish his plate. He filled a canteen with water, grabbed his rifle and his day pack, and headed out to meet Emilio.

  Christina was on the porch. “You guys won’t engage unless you’re fired upon, right?”

  “Strictly a recon mission.” Josh tightened the shoulder strap of his pack.

  Emilio walked down the stairs. “Unless they’re all passed out drunk and sleeping on the ground. I’m not going to pass up a deal like that.”

  Josh trailed close behind him, looking back at Christina. “Like I said, we’re going to observe and report back. That’s if we locate them at all.”

  “Be safe.” She waved.

  The two made their way to the creek and followed it upstream to the mouth of the cave. Josh slowly inspected the ground beneath his feet. “I’ve got some rice scattered around over here, looks like they went east.”

  Emilio caught up with him. “Rice trail goes dead pretty quick.”

  “Yeah, but figure a group that size is moving in the path of least resistance.” Josh led the way. “Let’s try through these trees. No brambles, or briars. We’ve been through here hunting before.”

  “Speaking of hunting, when do you think we could start looking for game again?”

  Josh shook his head. “No time soon. For one thing, I rarely see an animal, for the other, it’s not worth the risk as long as we have supplies.”

  “But the CDC says once you’ve gotten sick, you have a minimal risk of reinfection. We can wash up really well and make sure the meat is cooked thoroughly.”

  “Mackenzie, Christina, and I never got sick.”

  “But you’re inoculated.”

  “I might be inoculated.”

  “You were in the house the whole time with the rest of us, and you never got sick. You’re inoculated or immune.”

  “Even so, we can’t take the chance for the others.”

  Emilio pointed at the ground. “More rice. It starts and stops pretty erratically.”

  Josh stepped over the few white grains. “What size bit did you use on the hole?”

  “Five-eighths.”

  “Probably gets stuck after a few grains trickle out. Then gets jarred loose every so often. How much rice was in that bucket?”

  “Twenty pounds. I emptied it out of the plastic bag and poured it straight into the bucket.”

  Josh and Emilio followed the trail until it gave out. Then, they looked for broken twigs, footprints, and anything else that might indicate the direction of travel the group had moved in. This method worked well for what Josh guessed to be a half-mile or so. The rice trails showed up less and less frequently until they finally petered out altogether.

  The two men were able to pick out a trail all the way to State Road 70 which ran through the national park. Josh stepped up on to the asphalt and looked both ways.

  Emilio crossed over and looked for the entrance to a trail on the other side. “Nothing. It goes cold right here.”

  “We’ll walk both ways about a quarter-mile and see if anything obvious stands out. But I doubt it. This is exactly what I would have done if I was trying to break a trail. We have n
o way of knowing where they went from here. They could have taken the road for miles, had a vehicle waiting for them even.”

  “Maybe we get lucky and find another pile of rice,” Emilio walked along the opposite shoulder.

  “Don’t count on it,” said Josh.

  The two walked for about ten minutes one way then turned around and went the other way.

  Emilio asked, “I hate to be morbid, but have you recalculated how many months’ worth of supplies we have after the people we’ve lost?”

  Josh didn’t want to admit it, but he knew precisely. “With seven people, and considering the buckets we lost, we have about fourteen months.”

  “We should be able to start farming soon. The old lady you bought the seeds from said you can plant cabbage, carrots, and beets in March, right? The chickens are laying regularly again. Fourteen months’ worth of supplies should last us until we can begin producing enough to be self-sufficient,” said Emilio.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” said Josh.

  “Mr. Optimism,” Emilio joked. “Why can’t you be a little bit hopeful?”

  “Because of what the Bible says.”

  Emilio shook his head. “You’re pretty convinced that we’re in the end times.”

  “Very.” Josh found the trail which had led them to the road and started back the way they’d come. “What’s fascinating is that you’re not.”

  “It’s all too convenient.” Emilio stayed within a few feet behind Josh. “But since we have a long walk and nothing else to talk about, let’s hear it. What comes next and what would prevent us from being able to grow crops?”

  “I’m equating the Red Virus with the second horseman of the apocalypse, which just so happens to be riding a red horse. The next horse is black. His rider holds a pair of scales in his hands and brings massive inflation along with wide-spread famine.”

  Emilio said, “Sounds like this horse might already be out of the barn.”

  “Could be, but I expect it will get worse.” Josh stepped over a fallen tree, babying his knee by holding onto a nearby sapling. “The fourth horseman is Death and he rides a pale horse. He’s given the power to kill a quarter of all the earth with the sword, hunger, and the beasts of the earth.”