by Trent Reedy
“The easiest way to control teenagers who might start to cause trouble when forced to live in a police state,” said Kemp. “Keep them all in one location. Teach them Fed propaganda.”
“ ‘All firearms except for nonfunctioning collectible antiques must be turned in to federal authorities,’ ” TJ read.
Cal held up his AR15. “Come try to get this one, assholes.”
“Did they say when they’re going to turn the rest of the Internet back on?” Sweeney asked. “At least so we can make comm calls? Right now, we can’t even let our parents know we’re okay.”
“You couldn’t even if the comms worked,” said Herbokowitz. “The Fed will be recording everything. You hook your comm to the network, they’ll find your location in seconds.”
“TJ, can you at least go to my house, tell my dad I’m okay?” Cal asked.
“But don’t tell him where he is,” I said. “Nobody can know where we are.”
TJ nodded. “No problem.”
“You have to be careful,” Kemp said. “You shouldn’t come here that often. Maybe only if you really have to, like if we absolutely must know something.”
“You need to get us medical supplies,” said Sparrow. “Or maybe just take these wounded guys to the hospital. All of them need medical attention, but Danning’s in real bad shape.”
Luchen craned his neck to look at Sparrow. “Kiss my wounded ass! I’m not going to the hospital. The Fed will arrest me in ten seconds.”
“It’s not that I’d mind getting arrested,” Danning said quietly. “But I know that … they’d try to make me tell them where you are. We can’t … risk it.” He pushed out each word with an exhausted breath. “Fed questions would be such … a pain.” Danning coughed. “Get it? A pain?”
Cal laughed. Luchen gave a thumbs-up. “I hear ya, buddy.”
“Then get medical supplies,” Sparrow said to TJ.
He looked helpless. “From where? There’s a first-aid kit in the science room at school. I could check—”
“Does it look like these people need basic first aid?” Sparrow asked.
“Well, I don’t know. What do you want me to do, walk damned near thirty miles to rob the hospital in Coeur d’Alene?”
“They seem mostly stable for now,” Sweeney said.
“Danning’s abdominal wound is seriously bad,” Sparrow said. “If we’re going to be stupid enough to not get him to a hospital, then we might have to figure out how to get the bullet out of him and close him up ourselves. Everybody else needs stitches and clean bandages at the very least. If we don’t do something, we’re going to have some serious problems with infection.”
I looked at the bloodstains on the cot where Nelson used to be. Kemp and Cal had hauled his body out in the dark sometime after the Fed left the shop. They couldn’t risk being caught, so instead of taking the time to bury him, they put him inside the shell of a junked Chevy van sitting behind the shop near the creek.
“Can you just do your best?” I said to TJ. “Even some clean white sheets for bandages would be an improvement over what we got.”
“Yeah, and maybe like some real hard-core alcohol to clean wounds? I saw that on a movie once,” TJ said. “But I better go, in case the Feds outside start wondering why this simple tire job is taking so long.”
Cal held out his fist to bump TJ’s. “Thanks for helping us, man. Keep it cool out there. You get caught or in trouble, we’re all screwed.”
“Oh, and TJ,” Sweeney said as TJ started up the stairs. “Can you see if you can find us some old board games or paper books or something? All we have is an old issue of Turbo Truck magazine and this book called Surviving the Final War. It sounds like we’re going to be stuck down here for a while. It could get pretty boring.”
* * *
“Okay, hold him down,” Sparrow said. I helped Cal pin Danning’s shoulders to the cot. Kemp and Sweeney held his arms. Crocker and Bagley grabbed his legs.
“Hey, Sparrow,” Danning said. “I don’t … Maybe … You know, I think this could just heal on its own. Like we could just leave the bullet in there.” Sweat slicked his whole body.
Sparrow held her bayonet and a pair of basic, drugstore-issue tweezers. A set of regular kitchen tongs had been sterilized and set on a clean cloth on a folding chair.
We’d been in the dungeon for a week. Schmidty had taken the federal ID card so he wouldn’t seem suspicious and so the Fed would allow his power to be turned back on. Once we could see a little better with the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, we’d noticed Danning was in trouble. His wound had dark streaks running out from it, and the skin around it was dry and dead. Worse, he was turning kind of yellow, like maybe jaundice, all over his body.
“We got to get the bullet out,” Sparrow said. “We don’t know what it messed up in there. We might have to sew up some internal organs.”
I hoped to God she didn’t have to go that far. She and I had taken turns using an Army sewing kit that Schmidty had down here to close up wounds, but neither one of us had had to touch an organ so far. From up in the shop came the shriek from the steel grinder. Schmidty had agreed to make enough noise to cover Danning’s screams.
Herbokowitz sat in a chair next to Sparrow, shining a flashlight on Danning’s quarter-inch-diameter wound. I looked down at Danning from where I stood by his shoulder. “Ready, Will? We got to do this now.” His eyes were wide, tearing up. He nodded, his breathing heavy. “Cal?”
Cal held a thick stick to Danning’s mouth. “Bite down on this.”
Danning clamped down on the stick with a moan. Sparrow checked the picture in Schmidty’s old survival manual one more time before she looked at the rest of us. “Everybody knows their job? You get sick, turn away, but don’t stop doing whatever you’re doing. Here we go.” Sparrow moved her bayonet toward the bullet hole. “Got to open it up a little.”
The next five minutes were awful, for Danning and for us. I kept my eyes focused on his face as he bucked and screamed. His face went about as red as his blood when Sparrow extracted the bullet. We sterilized the wound with the last of Herbokowitz’s eighteen-year Macallan single-malt Scotch from his flask. The pain made Danning finally pass out, and Sparrow sewed him up.
“Okay, that’s it,” she said at last. “We’ll let him sleep.”
Cal pulled the stick out of Danning’s mouth, holding it up to show the deep bite marks.
“I’ll go tell Schmidty he can stop it with whatever metal he’s grinding up there,” I said. I looked around at the group, everybody filthy and sweaty and totally fried. I only hoped Danning would survive.
—• From the worldwide coverage of ABC News.”
“Good evening. I’m Dale Acosta, and this … is Night Time. Welcome to our first show after a fifteen-hour total broadcast lockout imposed by the federal government. Open military conflict in Idaho. No word yet on the number of casualties. The president insists this is a police action and not a civil war.
“And the Unity Act. For residents of Idaho, it means, among other things, that this and all our other programs will not be seen. But what does it mean for the rest of America? We’ll tell you about some of its restrictions on the way we bring you the news. Reporting and thoughtful analysis on all that, ahead on the program for Monday, November 22. •—
—• Breaker one nine. Nobody truckin’ with the Fed drive ban. Anyone know how to deal with these drones? They took out a whole Brotherhood squad. Come back now, hear? •—
—• Welcome back to the Sam Harrison Show on the Fox News Channel, government censorship edition. You know, from time to time, I feel like I need to remind people that I am a conservative first and a Republican second. That is, I stand in support of certain ideals like freedom and limited government. While most of the time these ideals are supported by the Republican party, I feel that I have a duty to my viewers and the listeners of my radio program to point out when the Republican leadership has strayed far from the ideals upon which they were elected. Ri
ght now, our Sam Harrison Show lawyers and legal analysts are busy poring over the so-called Unity Act that our Republican lawmakers helped to radically expand — at least, those parts of the law that aren’t classified. And I never thought I’d have to say something like this in America, but I’m afraid. I’m afraid of saying something that our government doesn’t like and then being punished for it.
For the record, I believe Idaho’s bid for independence is crazy. It is wrong. This entire situation should have been negotiated and resolved peacefully months ago. Now Americans are killing Americans in Idaho, and the rest of the nation faces unprecedented restrictions on its citizens’ rights, or should I say former rights, to free speech and assembly.
The Unity Act is something that I would expect from liberals and Democrats who believe that the solution to every problem is more government, more control from Washington, DC. Tonight I am deeply ashamed of Vice President Jim Barnes and the rest of the Republican leadership who signed this secret bill at the last second and without any time for public debate.
I am horrified and saddened to have to warn my audience not to publicly object to the Unity Act, because I honestly fear what our government will do to dissenters. We can only pray that this law will be struck down by the Supreme Court. But as we’ve learned in the past, holding out for help from the Supreme Court is often futile. •—
—• Tom, I’m on Interstate 84, northwest of Ontario, Oregon. My video crew and I have been trying to cross the border into Idaho, but we are still being stopped by a military blockade. Media personnel aren’t even allowed to enter Ontario, and everyone is being kept well away from the Idaho border. We’re being told this is for our own safety, and that while Idaho is under federal control, rogue insurgents still pose a threat. At least one news agency attempted to send a small cam drone toward Idaho, but it was quickly shot down. We’ll continue doing our best to try to get you the story, but at present that’s proving to be a real challenge. •—
—• Here on Comedy Central’s Top News, we take a fair and balanced approach … to laughing at Republicans. And at Fox News. It’s usually too easy. But tonight, perhaps for the first time, I, Jerry Simpson, must confess … I can hardly do it … I must confess that the time has finally come when I agree … with Sam Harrison. At least on one issue. Um, sort of. And it is hard to joke about, because I worry that maybe jokes that are critical of the government might be one of those things forbidden by one of the classified sections of …
THE UNITY ACT.
You like that? That big echo effect? We have to try to make jokes somewhere. Sam Harrison says he is ashamed of the Republican leadership for passing the Unity Act. Yes! I agree! I’m also ashamed of the Republican leadership.
But … the joke stops there. Because in fact, I’m ashamed of every member of Congress and of President Griffith for passing such a law. And if you want to take me off the air for saying so, that’s fine by me. I don’t know what disgusts me more, this law, or the fact that I’m forced into a position where I am in agreement with someone like Sam Harrison. •—
—• I’m going to turn it over to questions now. Um, there in the front.”
“Bibi Sahar, New York Times. Vice President Barnes, I think it’s fair to say that many people were surprised when President Griffith nominated you for the vice presidency. The two of you had been fierce political opponents. Now you seem in lockstep with the president on her policies. Can you explain this sudden reversal in your position?”
“Great question, Bibi. The answer is that this isn’t a reversal at all. Look, the president and I disagree on several issues. Abortion. Gun rights. But one thing we both feel very strongly about is staying the course. While a peaceful solution is possible, I always advocate for peace. But President Griffith and I both believe that was no longer an option in Idaho. And I admire the president’s leadership in quickly working to end this rebellion. Did I help convince my Republican allies to vote for the expansion of the Unity Act? Absolutely. Because we need this law at this time, and when something is the right thing to do, I try to convince everyone to support it. Next?”
“Molly Williams, National Public Radio. Mr. Vice President, what about the reports from a number of sources that say southern Idaho is not actually under federal control?”
“Molly, at times like these, there are going to be more rumors than bottles of maple syrup in Vermont and New Hampshire combined. Next question.”
“Tyler Glover, ABC News. Mr. Vice President, part of the Unity Act places total restrictions on firearms in Idaho, with provisions in the law that would make such restrictions easy to expand to other states. In the past, you’ve strongly opposed gun control. Can you explain this reversal?”
“You see, this is the kind of thing that we, as Americans, need to look past right now, these petty issues that divide us. I have held an A rating from the National Rifle Association throughout my entire political career. I firmly believe in the right of the law-abiding individual to keep and bear arms as guaranteed by the Second Amendment. What I do not support are rebellions against this country. We have a dangerous situation in Idaho, and I know that many or most of the people living in that state love America and support the Constitution. For our troops’ safety as they go into that dangerous place to try to restore order, to try to bring food and freedom to the people of Idaho, I support the provision to outlaw firearms only … only in those states deemed to be in a condition of rebellion.
“That’s about all I’m at liberty to discuss at this time, but I want to remind all Americans everywhere of the importance of unity and cooperation. Together, we will get through all of this, and I truly believe America will be a stronger nation as a result. Thank you. •—
—• Reaching a decision quickly, a five-to-four majority in the US Supreme Court upheld the Unity Act today. The majority opinion said that restrictions on certain rights have always been permissible in the presence of a clear, present, or imminent danger. The court did caution, however, that great care must be taken to ensure that the Unity Act is applied equally and not used to target any Americans based on race, gender, nationality, political affiliation, sexual orientation, or religion. The minority opinion argued that the rights guaranteed by the Constitution are absolute and cannot be restricted without due process, especially in times of great nationwide fear or uncertainty. Analysis on this landmark decision when NPR’s Everything That Matters continues.”
“Support for NPR comes from •—
“First Sergeant, haven’t you finished that magazine yet?” Crocker asked from over near the gun safe, fiddling with his radios as usual.
“I’ve read the survival book and this whole magazine twice already. Nothing else to read,” Herbokowitz said.
“Aimee Hartling,” Sweeney said to me. Him and me were laying on our backs on cots by the kitchen wall, staring up at the swirls in the concrete ceiling above us. Sometimes I could kind of see pictures. “Wright.”
“What?” I tried to focus on what he’d been saying. I could hear the sounds of Sparrow taking a dump on the toilet under the stairs. More than anything, I wished we had more than a thin sheet to wall off that little space. That and an exhaust fan.
“Aimee,” Sweeney said.
“What about her?” I asked.
He hit me in the arm. “I think maybe she was the one, man.”
Bagley and Cal sat at the table playing cards. Kemp usually joined them, but he was on guard duty. The guy took extra shifts a lot of the time. Maybe he liked to be alone. It was as close to privacy as we got in the dungeon.
“Luchen, when you gonna join in the game?” Bagley asked.
“Soon as my ass is good enough so I can sit in a chair, and soon as you play a real game.”
“Bagley, would you go already?” Cal said. “And this is a real game, Luchen.”
“Fine.” Bagley looked over his hand. “You got any threes?”
“Go fish yourself,” Cal said.
“You dated Aimee Hart
ling?” I asked Sweeney.
“Oh yeah,” Sweeney said. “Around Christmas last year, remember?”
I scratched an itch on my head, and my fingers came away greasy from my filthy hair. “I thought you were going out with Caitlyn Ericson then. Didn’t you get her a scarf or something?”
Crocker poked his head out from around the end of the shelves. “He does so have a three. Three of hearts, has that frayed corner and crease near the bottom from when him and Sweeney got in that argument last week.”
Cal slapped his hand down on the table and flicked the card at Bagley. “Man, Crocker, what the hell!? Go back to your corner, you little troll.”
“And maybe I’ll play when y’all stop cheating!” Luchen said.
The stench of blood, sweat, death, and shit hung over the whole basement. It stuck to our clothes, soaked into our hair, ruined our food, and even sneaked into our sleep, stinking up our nightmares.
I propped myself up on one elbow to check on Danning. He was asleep, but his color had improved a lot since the surgery. And when he was awake, he had a lot more energy. I was glad he was feeling better, but if I had to listen to him explain one more time how him and his dad once saw Seattle beat Denver in the Super Bowl, I would go upstairs to the shop and crush my head in a vise.
The toilet flushed, and a few seconds later, Sparrow crossed the room to join Luchen in the corner, where the two of them had side-by-side cots.
“You just want to mess around back there with your girlfriend,” Cal said to Luchen.
“Riccon,” said Sparrow, “you may be strong, but I’ve been trained in hand-to-hand combat, and if you give me and Luchen any more shit, I’ll rip off your arms and shove them up your ass.”
Cal shook his head. “Never thought I’d say this,” he said, “but I miss my job. Spending all summer on the dock. All the girls coming to rent kayaks and paddleboats, checking out my muscles. Taking rides in my boss’s seaplane. He even let me take the yoke a couple times and fly it a bit. That was so much better than this stinky-ass dungeon.”
