by Paul Clayton
“Shortages, food and fuel, lots of transients coming through.”
The man nodded. “Yeah, I know, thieves and criminals. We’re going to our place up near the border, off in the woods. A big spread. About five families will be settling there.”
“Any news?” said Mike.
The man shook his head slightly. “Just what we hear on the AM radio ... skirmishes, peace feelers, more skirmishes. The main event ain’t started yet.”
Mike nodded and moved off. He walked the equivalent of two blocks to the end of the camp, turned and started back on the other side. He was almost to the end when he saw Elly and a boy about her age leaving the camp and walking along a foot-path that led into the woods. He hurried up to them.
“Elly? Where are you going?”
She and the boy turned. The boy’s face was composed, innocent, but Mike wasn’t buying it.
Elly’s face was devoid of guilt or concern. “We’re going to see some kittens, Daddy. Josh knows where they are.”
“Did you ask Mommy?”
“No-oh,” Elly said slowly with childlike, mock coyness. “We’re not going far, Daddy.”
“I don’t care. You’re not supposed to go off by yourself. C’mon. We’re going back.”
The boy’s face darkened in annoyance, but he said nothing.
“Sorry,” Elly said to him. “I can’t go.”
The boy frowned and said nothing. He walked off.
After they were out of earshot of the boy Mike said, “You know you’re supposed to ask before you go off like that.”
“Sorry, Daddy. He’s a nice boy.”
“It doesn’t matter.” They came into view of their camper. “Those are the rules.”
“Okay.” Elly said nothing further, not wanting her mother to know.
Marie had set up the aluminum table and chairs and was going through the picnic cooler as they walked up.
“What’s for dinner?” said Mike.
Marie didn’t look up. Mike could tell by the look on her face that she knew something had happened, and would bring it up with him later. “Well,” she said, “hamburgers, some beans out of the can.”
“Hamburgers again?” said Elly.
“Who in the world doesn’t like hamburgers,” said Mike with a forced laugh. “I’ll get some firewood and get a fire going.”
Mike and Marie made small talk, enjoying the pink sunset clouds of early evening as they sat close to the campfire. Elly had her earphones on, listening to one of her CDs. The people camped across from them were quiet, with only an occasional laugh or coughing spell reaching them.
Later Mike and Marie lay quietly in the double bed. Neither slept. Starlight glowed through the overhead light tube. When Elly’s rhythmic breathing signaled she was sleeping, Marie said, “What happened with you and her before dinner?”
“I saw her walking off into the woods with some kid.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Marie, “that’s my fault. I didn’t see her leave.”
“It was probably innocent,” said Mike. “They said they were going to see some feral cats … kittens. But I told her she couldn’t go, that she was supposed to ask one of us first.”
Marie didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Then, “She’s lonely.”
“I know.”
“At least at home we could have Lily and Lucy over.”
“Yeah,” said Mike. Lily and Lucy were neighbor girls a block down from them. Six and eight years of age, they were an odd set of friends for Elly, as she was seven or so years older than them and towered over them. Still, they had been happy playing together.
“How much longer do you think it will take to get to the border?” said Marie.
“I think we can get there by tomorrow night. Or, if we get tired of driving, by the next day.”
Marie ran her hand along his arm. “Good. You’re a good driver. How hard do you think it’s going to be to cross over the border?”
Mike closed his eyes. “I don’t know.” He tried to sound just the right balance of hope and realism. “There’ll be an application process, a wait.”
Marie snuggled against him. Mike raised his head to look over at Elly. She was asleep. He pulled Marie closer.
“Sometimes I get really worried, Mike. I worry about her.”
“I know. So do I.”
“I try to pray but sometimes I can’t.”
“I know. I’m the same way. Let’s put some music on.”
“Okay. Not too loud.”
“How about the Dylan?”
“Yeah. But skip the first cut, that dance tune.”
Mike put the Dylan CD in the player. As the acoustic guitars and harmonica tinkled from the speakers he pulled Marie close and kissed her. Her tongue went deep and soon they were making quiet, gentle love.
They had a good morning, up shortly after dawn, coffee, some oatmeal. Sitting and watching the day blossom as other campers drove by, waving from their windows. After Mike and Marie loaded up, Elly went inside the camper to sleep some more.
After a couple hours or so, Mike finally found a gas station that had gas; the price had tripled since the troubles began. He filled the tank. There was no telling when they’d get another chance. They drove for four hours and were discussing pulling over to eat, when they crested a hill and he spotted a roadblock a mile or so ahead.
Mike squinted as he studied the vehicle in the distance—a dark green truck, camouflage-painted, straddling the road.
“Should we turn around?” said Marie.
“Probably not. They see us now. The might follow us. Besides, we’re gonna have to use this road to get north.”
Mike drove on slowly. When he was about a city block away, two khaki-clad men left the trees and walked to stand in front of the truck. The younger one had a long gun with a wooden stock slung over his shoulder. Handsome, eighteen or so, he was Mediterranean-looking, with dark hair, wide-set blue eyes, and an honest, non-threatening face. The other, older man had a silver mustache and goatee, and black captain’s bars stitched into his camouflage cap. A pistol in a black leather holster hung from his hip.
Mike came to a stop about ten feet away. The two men came up to the driver’s side window, the young subordinate hanging back a respectful distance. Mike noticed four more soldiers in the shade of the tree on the left side of the road, all of them with smooth young faces. They watched with mild, bored interest. Mike hoped they were generic local militia, not Minute Men or RPP troops.
“Good afternoon, sir,” the captain said to Mike. He nodded at Marie. “I’m Captain Moore.”
“What’s going on?” said Mike.
Moore’s face was militarily-impassive. “We’re not letting anyone through for the next 24 hours. We have information about a force of RPP north of us, and a jump jet.”
Mike nodded. “Is there any other way up north?”
Moore frowned. “You’d have to go back the way you came, about eighty-five miles. There’s a forest service road there you could use to go around.”
Mike wasn’t thrilled about going back the way they’d come for eighty-five miles, then travelling a gravel or dirt road through the forest.
“You’re welcome to stay with us till we clear this up,” said Moore. “Shouldn’t be more than ten or twelve hours. We have some people checking things out. Should have a report soon.”
Mike turned to Marie. “What do you think?”
“It’s worth waiting,” she said, looking straight ahead, “probably.”
Mike turned to Moore. “Well, what outfit are you with?”
“Wisconsin Militia, second battalion, first regiment.”
It didn’t mean anything to Mike, but they didn’t seem threatening. “Okay. We’ll stay for a while.”
Moore nodded curtly and stepped back to speak with t
he young man who hovered nearby. They again approached the truck.
“You’ll have to step out to be searched, sir,” said Moore. “Sorry, but that’s SOP these days. Anyone in the back?”
“My daughter.”
“Okay. She’ll have to come out and ride with you all in the front.”
Mike frowned. They’d take his .38. But would they give it back?
Elly walked around to the front of the camper with the blue-eyed young soldier. Mike noted with relief that she wasn’t frightened. She was smiling as she and the youth watched him hand one of the other young soldiers his .38. The young man passed it to Captain Moore.
Moore opened the cylinder, then flipped it closed and carefully put it under his belt. “You’ll get it back when you leave.”
Mike said nothing. The man seemed honorable. He decided to trust him. What else could he do?
“Why are you carrying that?” said Marie.
“I’ll tell you later.”
The Captain gave some orders to the men by the tree line. He turned to Mike. “You can get back in.”
Mike, Marie and Elly climbed into the cab of the pickup. The young soldier climbed up onto the running board on Elly’s side.
Mike saw that Elly was quite taken with him, her face all lit up. “What’s your name,” she asked him.
“Gabriel Jilosian,” he said with a big smile. “My friends call me Gabe.”
“Sir?” said Captain Moore to Mike.
Mike turned to face the captain.
“Private Jilosian will show you the way into the camp.”
The young soldier looked at Mike and pointed north. “Sir, there’s a turnoff just two hundred feet up on the left.”
“Okay,” said Mike.
“What’s your name again?” Marie said to the soldier.
“Gabriel Jilosian. Call me Gabe.”
“Is that Greek?”
The young soldier shook his head and smiled. “Armenian.”
“Oh,” said Elly. “Are you from around here?”
“Actually, I’m from up near the border. But I’ve been down here for three months.”
Elly nodded in apparent fascination.
Mike kept the truck in first gear as they crept up the highway and then turned off the asphalt. The camper rocked gently as they lumbered slowly down a gravel road. Mike saw the flag flying from a flag-pole just above the trees. They drove a bit further and passed through a gate marked by head-high white posts on either side of the road. The camp was laid out in a large circle, with a mowed parade field and flag-pole in the center, and a dozen or so manufactured homes equally spaced all around. Camouflaged vehicles, mostly Toyota trucks, with a few ancient-looking Humvees, were parked here and there. As they drove past a double-wide modular building that appeared to be the headquarters, Mike’s nostrils picked up the scent of food. Camouflage tarps had been tacked to the roof of one side of the structure and pulled out about thirty feet, then lashed to aluminum tent poles, providing shelter from sun and rain. It was a mess hall of sorts, with picnic tables set up underneath. Mike saw an Asian man looking out of the pick-up window at them as they slowly drove past.
“Pull in here,” Gabe called into the window, indicating a square patch of gravel ahead on the right.
Mike turned in and parked.
Gabe jumped down. His feet crunched gravel as he came around to the driver’s side. He looked in the window at Mike. “You can stay the night in your rig.” He pointed in the direction of the double-wide they had just passed. “The chow hall serves dinner starting at five. Captain Moore wants to talk with you there in the morning at breakfast. He said he’d meet you there at eight.”
Mike nodded. “Okay.”
“Are you going to be there too?” said Elly.
Marie frowned as Mike said, “Don’t bother him, Elly. He has his assigned duties.”
Gabe couldn’t hide his interest. “I don’t know,” he said to Elly. He glanced somewhat apologetically at Mike and Marie. “It’s possible.” He looked back at Elly. “It depends on my schedule.”
“Okay,” said Mike. “We’ll probably see you around at some point.”
Gabe nodded, saying nothing.
“Well, wait,” said Marie. “Maybe you could have dinner with us?”
“Hmm,” said Mike.
“Sure,” said Gabe. “I’ll have to go to the HQ and sign in first. What time?”
“Is it opened now?” said Marie.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. How about we meet you there in fifteen minutes.”
“Sure.”
Elly’s smile was radiant as Gabe waved and walked off.
Marie knew that Mike was not happy she’d invited Gabe to eat with them, but she didn’t think there was any harm. Elly was quite taken with him and they’d be leaving in a day or so anyway. Marie sat next to Mike on the picnic bench underneath the tarp at the chow hall. Gabe sat across from them next to Elly—their paper plates of hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, and broccoli, before them.
“So,” said Marie to Gabe, “where exactly do you live?”
“A tiny town called Little Fork, in Minnesota.”
Marie watched Elly nodding at Gabe. She was fascinated with the young man, studying him. Mike, however, was reserved, a little uncomfortable with the situation. It annoyed Marie. Couldn’t he see the joy in his daughter’s face? Wasn’t she entitled to be in thrall of a handsome young man like any other young woman?
“How far is that?” said Mike matter-of-factly.
“About four hundred miles.”
“Oh,” said Elly, “do you get to go home to see your family?”
Gabe smiled at her and looked around at Marie and Mike, “Actually, I’m planning on going when I get my next leave, which should be in two months.”
“Wow,” said Elly. Her eyes were bright. Then she frowned. “Are you afraid of this war, Gabe?”
“Nah,” said Gabe with bravado.
Mike blinked in thought as he lifted his fork.
“I am,” said Elly. “I don’t understand it.”
Gabe was attentive to her as he chewed.
“Most of us don’t, Honey,” said Marie.
“It changed everything,” said Elly. She looked intently at Gabe. “Do you miss the Internet?”
Mike and Marie smiled.
“Sure,” said Gabe. “Everybody does. They still have a military internet, but it’s not the same.”
Elly’s face was somber. “I miss Facebook the most.”
They laughed gently.
“I don’t,” said Mike, “I think we’re better off without it.”
“Not me,” Elly insisted.
“Well,” said Marie, “there were some nice things about it, especially in the beginning.”
A short while after they’d finished eating, Gabe stood. “I’m going to have to get ready for guard duty,” he said.
Marie watched Elly as she watched Gabe walking off and her heart fell a bit. Elly was absolutely taken with him. And what young girl wouldn’t be? He was intelligent, mannered, good-looking. Marie tried to dispel the sadness that was rising in her. She’d always worried that her only child might never know the happiness of love and domesticity. And now, with the upheaval in society, was that lost to everyone? And what about her relationship with Mike? He seemed to be changing, becoming more distant and overly-suspicious.
In the morning Mike, Marie, and Elly walked in the direction of the headquarters building as the light grew. They passed a couple of houses that appeared empty, then one, in front of which, three young women sat on lawn chairs, one of them holding a squirming toddler in her lap. Hip Hop music thumped through the open windows.
At the chow hall, Captain Moore sat alone under the tarp at one of the tables, a cup of coffee before him, smoking a cig
arette. He stood and waved them over.
As they sat he said, “One of you might want to get your order in for breakfast. Tommy’s the cook. I told him your tab was on me. It’s just eggs and potatoes, or oatmeal if you’re watching your weight.” He smiled at Marie.
Marie turned to Mike. “What would you like?”
“Eggs and potatoes, and coffee.”
“Okay,” said Marie. “Elly, come with me.” They went over to the window in the side of the building. Tommy came to the window to take their orders.
“Well,” Captain Moore said to Mike as a camouflaged truck rolled slowly around the circular gravel street, “You probably haven’t heard the latest.”
“What’s that?”
“The Liberty League raided dozens of houses in Altoona, P A. They smoked a bunch of people that wouldn’t turn in their guns.”
Mike shook his head. “Wow. That’s awful.”
Moore nodded, watching Mike closely. “Sure it is. This shit’s only gonna get worse. You might want to consider staying with us for a while.”
Mike said nothing.
“There were a couple guys here the day before you.”
Mike’s pulse quickened. “Riding motorbikes?”
“One bike,” said More. “A thuggish-looking white kid with a wounded paw and a black guy. Know them?”
Mike realized they must have passed them when they were camped. “I’ve seen them back in our town,” he said guardedly.
“They described someone like you, said they were friends of yours. I didn’t buy that. I sure as hell don’t buy it now that I’ve met you and your family.”
Mike nodded. “Which way did they head?”
“They went on north. That was before we got word of the jump jet.”
Mike tried not to show too much concern. He’d have to be on alert from here on out.
“How old are you?” said More.
“Sixty.”
“That’s not too old. We could use you.”
Mike shook his head. “I want to get my family to safety first.”
Moore’s look was sincere. “It’s safe here. I could put you and your family up in an apartment.”
Mike recalled the three young women sitting outside the house they’d passed earlier. He was pretty sure they were there to service the soldiers. He was uncomfortable with the idea of him and his family spending any more time here. He felt like they’d be better off on their own. He shook his head. “No thanks.”
