Fortress Farm - The Pullback
Page 44
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“Rusty, read that out loud for Pastor and Charlotte to hear,” Lamar asked. “Or at least give them the highlights.”
“Basically, we give up all of our weapons, surrender our food and critical supplies, and move to their housing areas in what they call the ‘Safe Zone.’ Whatever that means,” Rusty said. “In exchange, we get our meals and housing taken care of, they provide for our safety from criminals and looters, and we all receive gainful employment and pay.”
“That sounds like a refugee camp to me,” Pastor said. “Remember that missionary to Nigeria we sponsored? He gave a talk when he came back stateside to visit family. Described the way folks who fled the civil war there lived. More folks died in the camps than outside in the war, the way he told it.”
“Mm-hmm,” Charlotte replied somberly. “They’d probably split us all up, too. Lamar, is there a chance that we can fight them off?”
“Depends if those soldiers are bluffing. If they are, we can beat them, from the way Rusty described. If they do have reinforcements coming, I think we’ll run out of ammo long before they do,” Lamar answered. Emotion was on his face: anger, fright, disgust, all wrapped into one look.
He continued: “Rusty, you met them. What’s your gut tell you?”
Rusty paused for a moment, the countdown clock unconsciously ticking as he looked for the right advice to give to his leader. What would be the right thing for the Congregation?
“Folks, this place is home to me. More so than any other place I’ve ever been in my life. But it’s just a building. We have to make sure our young people have a chance at life.” Rusty looked at Pastor, seeing the tears welling up in the big man’s eyes. No one knew if his wounded son would make it through the night. “My first instinct is to fight. Charlotte, you’ve taught me to trust God, and no one’s ever been able to make me do that before.”
He looked to Lamar. “Brother, I don’t think they’re bluffing. You and I both knew that whatever piece of government left after everything went dark would try to put things back together eventually. We all hoped that would be to help people in their hour of need. But you also taught me that history didn’t provide very many examples of that. Usually a strongman type rises from the ashes. Some guy gets lucky, finds some others to follow him, and maybe has food to pay soldiers with. I’m guessing that’s what happened here.
“Heck, maybe this all was a coup that went wrong. The President’s name before the power went out was Aguilar. I think Johnson was a cabinet member or some advisor, so who knows how he ended up on top? Probably won’t know unless we give ourselves up and move in with them to the camps. I suppose the smart thing to do is go with them. Maybe they have enough for everyone to eat. Maybe eventually we’ll get some of our freedoms back… maybe we’ll be able to move back home,” Rusty concluded, tailing off in disbelief at this own words.
Lamar jumped in, “And maybe we get to live like slaves to a cruel master. I don’t like our odds either way. But better to die with our boots on, right, cowboy?” Lamar’s smile broke the tension for just a moment…Rusty long since gave up his fancy western boots for practical shoes. He still got grief about all those years before when snakeskin was all he wore.
The joke struck an idea in Rusty’s head; a plan that might get at least some of the Congregation out of harm’s way.
Small chance of success, but if it works, they’d at least be free to start over, Rusty thought.
“Lamar, I’ve got an idea. But we have to act quick, before their reinforcements arrive.”