By the Dawn's Early Light
Page 17
“You’ve got to be joking,” she stated.
Her son looked at her quizzically.
“Mon cher fils (my dearest son), don’t you remember the stories I told you? Don’t you recall meeting the man?”
Then it dawned on her only child.
“The father with the two daughters?”
“Oui, one in the same. He lives in McArthur,” she answered matter-of-factly. “His accommodations are bound to be better than Cape Girardeau, Missouri, no?”
“Ach,” he decried incredulously. “Cet endroit est un trou de merde! (This place is a crap hole)!”
“How soon can we strike the camp and get moving?”
“What? Mother or not, you are not coming with us! I’m sending you back to New Orleans. This was only supposed to be an inspection visit –,” her son started to say in dissent before she cut off his protestations.
“I may be your mother, Philip, but I am also your Mon Colonel! Like it or not, I’m going. Besides, wouldn’t you like to thank the man whose sacrifice allowed your life to exist?”
Colonel Sophie Desjardins had been an Aspirant (Officer Candidate) in the French Foreign Legion when she and her squad, along with Josh and the offending soldier under his command, had been abducted from their base in Bosnia. Try as she might to miss or graze him, she was the one that had put the bullet holes in his torso. However, even after being shot, he still wouldn’t comply with their demands.
Josh’s screams of agony from the torture and then the eventual gunshot wounds almost broke them both. In the end, it was the man’s protective instincts that had kept the woman’s virtue intact. When several men within the abducting clan began eagerly undressing in preparation to gang rape Sophie, Josh capitulated.
She had watched on in horror as the bleeding, half-dead man castrated his soldier. When the deed was done, he was subjected to further abuse until unconsciousness came floating in like an angel. His wounds were eventually treated and, as he was regaining his cognitive skills some days later, their rescuers arrived.
Over a decade and a half would pass before they would see each other again. Josh, needing to get as far away from Columbus as possible, had tracked her down through the French Foreign Legion in Paris. He truly didn’t know what else to do or where to go. Getting out of the country seemed like a good idea at the time. With his daughters in tow, fresh from the nightmare that was Amanda and the trial, the weary travelers appeared on her doorstep in Avignon, France.
The remnants of the Simmons family spent several weeks with Sophie and her teenage son recuperating. Being out in the country and enjoying the peace resonated with Josh. While the children played, the pair would lazily stroll through the lavender fields of the Provence region and sample the available vintages. After a night of excessive ‘sampling’, the two made love. It was only after they departed that she told her son what happened in Bosnia.
Over time and circumstance, all of the other captives had passed on. Only they remained to tell the tale of their shared hell of Earth.
When they returned home, an invigorated Josh bought his farm and sent her a letter. It contained an open invitation to visit anytime as well as the address. It was the first and last time the man wrote that information down for anybody. As instructed, she had committed it to memory.
* * *
Dallas sat quietly and manned his post in the comms room of Josh’s cabin basement. Most of his four hour shift was usually spent listening, recording, and transcribing broadcasts from around the country. If he heard anything pertaining to troop movement, resistance or other, he would make notes on the ‘boards’.
In actuality, they were three medium sized white boards and easels that had been procured from the local middle school. On each was a map. The easel closest to his desk held the continental U.S. The center stand narrowed the scope of the country to cut outs of each coast, while the third was a blow-up of Ohio. The state of affairs nationwide was written in dry erase marker next to the national map, UN troops movements were marked on the coastal board, while local matters were documented with the state rendering.
“Briar Patch, this is ‘Charlie Whiskey One’. Come in over,” the radio crackled.
Calls from the remote outposts were few and far between. The SOP for the hidden structures dictated that radios were not to be used except for two express purposes: in the case of an emergency where the structure had been spotted or when the watcher had seen activity.
Dallas snatched the mic off of the table and immediately responded.
“Channel clear,” he said in return.
This was a pre-programmed response. When heard by the others on the net, it indicated that there were to be no other transmissions on that frequency until the ‘channel open’ call came from the comm room.
“State of emergency or report, Charlie Whiskey One?”
“Report, twenty-three vehicles headed south on Route 33,” the sentry replied.
“Disposition?” he asked.
“Fourteen trucks, eight sedans, estimate fifty to sixty passengers, heavily armed.”
“Roger that. Channel open. Mother Goose out.”
When the same call came from Charlie Whiskey Two ten minutes later, Dallas didn’t wait for the report from the third coastwatcher outpost. He quickly changed channels and queued the radio operator at Athens General (AG) Hospital.
“Mother Goose calling AG, come in AG.”
Only a few seconds passed before they answered.
“This AG1. Go ahead,” came the reply.
“Be advised, twenty-three hostile vehicles inbound. Say again, two-three hostiles inbound. Acknowledge, over.”
“Acknowledged. Approximate strength?
“Charlie Whiskey One and Two independently estimate force strength of five-zero to six-zero, heavily armed, over.”
“Roger that. We’re on it! Thanks Mother Goose! AG1 out!”
The radio operator stationed in a shack atop the hospital tower bolted from the tiny tin roof structure and sprinted to the edge of the building. He grabbed the air horn stored at the base of the wall and blasted the device four times, one long followed by three short.
The town of Athens immediately went on high alert. Additional horns sounded across the quad of Ohio University and the small downtown area alerting everyone to man their posts at the north end of town.
By the time the hostile convoy made it to the concrete chicane on the bridge over the Hocking River, all able bodied residents and what remained of the university’s student body were armed and waiting. The little Hamlet took a heavy toll and was left wanting, but they had managed to fend off the horde. Those that attempted to cross the water obstacle were gunned down and simply floated away.
A few days later, word reached McArthur that the handful of wounded survivors had been hung from a makeshift gallows on the north end of town leading into Athens. Their bodies were left to hang there as a warning for several weeks.
Chapter 14
The arrival of spring in the foothills of the Appalachians brought tasks and chores. With Lake Hope State Park teeming, extra land had been cleared for crops and several of the dismantled greenhouses from Josh’s farm. That left two near the cabin and three more for bartering. Mayor Cranston talked Josh into donating one of the reserved barter structures to the town and they erected it on a vacant lot behind Mama Reni’s. Jacques and Mimi were ecstatic, but refrained from telling anyone that they had constructed a private reserve herb garden on the roof of the restaurant.
Within the park, several sticks of dynamite donated by a farmer were used to enlarge an existing cave. The stone dwelling, coupled with the installation of a door, served as the sites root cellar. The construction battalion, affectionately known as the Sea Bees, took Josh’s suggestions to heart when it came to the building of the stage. Under the guise of excavating for posts, a recess was incorporated. They weren’t told for what though. They were giddy at the prospect of doing something secretive and clandestine nonetheless. It w
as then that Josh realized just how much sway he held throughout the community as a whole.
As each day passed however, a new issue would seem to arise. None of the homes at the farm were designed for prolonged periods of high occupancy. As a result, the septic systems were filling faster than the microbes could work. Therefore, slit trenches and latrines were constructed to ease the burden. Spring allergies combined with the last of the cold and flu season kept Basilia and Carlton, as well as Layla, Lily, and Alysin busy at the cabins. A great number of the people being treated had mild forms of dehydration and exhaustion. Extensive physical labor was a foreign concept. So far, there had only been limited incidences of head lice. Bed bugs hadn’t been detected, but according to Basilia, it was only a matter of time. Also, without the state of Ohio spraying for mosquitos, coupled with a hundred plus acres of standing water in the lake, she was predicting that the West Nile virus was bound to become a problem come summer.
“Are you guys out here?” Carlton called out.
“Yeah,” came the chorused reply.
“Where?”
“In the greenhouse,” one of the three replied.
As he approached he explained his issue. “We’re almost out of borage. Can I use pleurisy root instead?”
“What are you treating?” Alysin answered from inside the small glass laden structure.
Juan and his sons had built the out-building expressly for the cultivation of medicinal herbs. It measured twelve by fifteen and was constructed almost entirely from vinyl replacement windows. Jesus and Abelardo had removed them from a building supply warehouse on the outskirts of Nelsonville during one the group’s reconnaissance missions. The floor was gravel with two courses of cinderblock forming the base. A three foot wide sliding glass door served as the entrance. Bryan and Chester aided the medical effort by installing a small space heater wired into two deep cycle batteries. Solar panels kept enough of a charge on them so the hut remained warm during the night hours.
“I’ve got a little girl with a cold and an infant with colic,” he replied from the Martinez back porch.
“Does she have a fever yet?” Basilia asked.
“No, but I can hear something in her lungs.”
“Use lemon balm for both,” Lily answered. “Pleurisy is for after they have one and works better in adults. Make it into a hot tea. It’ll help induce a temperature in the little girl which starts to break the cold. The baby will relax.”
“Couldn’t I give catnip for that?”
“You could, but my guess is they probably also have some seasonal allergies too. The lemon balm is a far superior all-around remedy,” Basilia offered.
Carlton shook his head as he stepped off of the porch and entered the structure.
“Where did you guys ever learn this stuff?”
“I read a book,” Alysin answered awkwardly. “But then they gave me a lab.”
“Medicinal herbs are a way of life in South America. It’s not that difficult. You just need to know what grows in your area. If it doesn’t, find a suitable replacement and keep moving forward,” Basilia added.
“How about you, Lily. Where’d you pick this stuff up?”
“I spent a lot of time trying to cross pollinate different plant species naturally. Not like those abominations Sam’s father and the rest of the GMO’s created.”
“Lily! Control the crazy!” Alysin stated excitedly. “Ha! I always wanted to say that. I never get to say that, but I finally got to say that!”
“It only means something when one of us is about to go on a tangent, Alysin. I simply stated a fact. No emotion. No digression. See? Cool as a cucumber,” she replied.
“Yeah well, I’ll be watching you, little miss missy miss,” the oddest of the Tin Hatters retorted.
Her friend came back at her with, “Whatever,” then turned back to address the former corpsman. “Here are the big five in my book, ya ready?”
“Yes, ma’am. Fire away.”
“Okay, number one is Echinacea. Not only is it used as an antibiotic to treat scarlet fever, syphilis, malaria, blood poisoning, and diphtheria, but it can also enhance the activity of the immune system, relieve pain, and reduce inflammation. It has hormonal, antiviral, and antioxidant effects too.”
“She’s right,” Basilia offered. “Professional herbalists recommend Echinacea to treat UTI’s, vaginal and ear infections, athlete's foot, sinusitis, hay fever, as well as slow-healing wounds.”
Carlton reached in his back pocket for his notepad. “Hold up a bit,” he implored them. “Let me take some notes.”
After scribbling a few remarks, he said, “Okay, number two?”
“I’d say that would be the pleurisy root you were asking about a minute ago. Native Americans say it’s good for lifting and running strength. That’s why we’ve been giving it to the firewood brigade.”
Alysin included, “It can also be used to handle poopy problems like diarrhea and dysentery.”
The man didn’t blink at the Tin Hatters comment. Stuff happens, literally.
“Nice,” Lily countered.
“You probably read somewhere that it serves as an expectorant. This makes it a valuable medicinal herb for chest complaints and in the treatment of many lung diseases. Which is why you most likely wanted to give it to the little girl,” Basilia stated.
“You gettin’ all this?” Lily asked
“Every word. Number three?”
“What do you think, Basilia, nettle or lemon balm?”
“Probably the balm. It treats a wider variety of issues.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, let’s see. We already told you about the fever and the colic. There’s also the treatment of mumps, cold sores, and other viruses.”
“It was the anti-viral agent that had me doing some lab experiments on its usefulness for Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Shingles,” Alysin interjected.
“So how is it going to help the little boy with colic?”
“One of lemon balm’s key medicinal attributes is as a tranquilizer.”
“I’m sorry? A what?”
“Its effects are similar to a mild sedative and it calms a nervous stomach, colic, or heart spasms. Some people think that the leaves aid in lowering blood pressure. It is very gentle, but effective. That’s why it’s used for children and babies.”
“Oh, and it has anti-histamine properties so it’s useful to treat eczema and headaches, as well as insect bites and wounds. More recently though, they discovered that it impacts the limbic system of the brain so it was added to the ADHD formula.”
“So why is only number three?”
“Because silly,” Alysin said. “Without the antibiotic nature of Echinacea, all of your patients would be dead.”
Without skipping a beat, Carlton asked, “And nettle?”
“I call that the ‘woman’s herb’,” Basilia answered.
“Seriously? What’s it treat?”
“Cramps, my child. Cramps.”
“Oooh,” he replied and circled the word several times in his notepad. “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Lily stated. “If you figure out a way to extract the juice, it’s a natural bug spray.”
“Juice equals bug spray, got it. Number five?”
“If there are no objections, I’m gonna go with hyssop… or maybe the catnip. Both are used for cold and flu, but hyssop can also address sore throats, bruises, and burns.”
“Yeah, but catnip handles headaches and fever,” Alysin added.
“That’s why, ladies, you give the patient both at different intervals like we did with Tylenol and ibuprofen.”
* * *
In preparation for a resistance effort, Hoplite had several bundles of lumber from the stalled train trucked to Fox Lake. Under the cover of night, Gregg loaded three teams of recruits into a deuce and delivered them at dawn. Scott wasn’t a fan of losing Katherine for weeks of training, but she was a born leader and everyone knew it. Her skills needed to be honed so
Josh’s youngest daughter was at the top of the list when it came to assigning squad leaders.
Many of her childhood friends eagerly petitioned to be placed with her, but familiarity was actively being avoided by James and the other trainers. To them, it was a bit of a double edged sword. Team members that knew each other could instinctively learn faster, but their goal was to make the parts interchangeable.
With no roads servicing the small body of water, hiding the fighters in the dense forests for their training would be a far easier task there than among the population of any town, or the Lake Hope cabins.
The entire Hocking Hills area had been surveyed by the Engineers in the late winter and early spring. There was a dearth of places to hide. Ash Cave, Old Man’s Cave, and Conkle’s Hollow were all deemed suitable rally points as well, but had distinct disadvantages that Fox Lake didn’t. Chief among them was their lack of escape possibilities should they be discovered. They’d never serve their purposes long term.
Prior to the truck of recruits or the lumber delivery, James, Gregg, and Hoplite created a three-fold training regimen in an effort to bring militia troops online. Once they were chosen and moved to the remote location, the deuce’s laden with construction materials would arrive. The recruits would need to construct their accommodations between exercises.
The first phase dealt with weapons drills. Even the locals that had been hunting for decades were required to display marksmanship and maintenance efficiency with not only their rifles, but also with handguns and scopes. Phase II took the students into the ‘classroom’ to understand advanced ballistics, scouting, and to establish a consistent language among the group. This was essential given the desire to interchange team members when necessity, mission parameters, injury, or death called for it.
In preparation for the third phase, Gregg and Hoplite had taken several hundred two-by-four’s and built structures for close quarters training purposes. They were crude in their design and the framing had been quick and dirty. Gregg particularly enjoyed the fact that they didn’t have any ceilings or a roof. He took great pleasure in directing and instructing the militia units from above as he observed from his makeshift catwalk.