by Mark Church
“What about you?”
“I’ll be along as soon as I deal with this situation. I’ve been looking forward to a showdown with these assholes for a long time.”
“I’ll wait for you! I’ll pull down the road and…”
“No! Do as I say. Now, go!”
Once again, Carl’s abrupt and firm command snaps Hannah out of her paralysis and prompts her to begin sprinting across the highway.
Carl gives her one last instruction before she’s out of earshot, “Remember, when you make your break for it, don’t slow down until you get to Missouri!”
Carl’s last instruction stops Hannah in her tracks, she turns towards him for one last look. She senses that it’s the last time she’ll ever see him. Their eyes lock. Carl offers a smile of reassurance. Hannah returns his smile as tears trickle down her cheek.
The voices are getting very close now, which prompts an urgent hand gesture from Carl demanding that Hannah get going. This time, without hesitation, she turns and sprints across the road until she enters the tree line on the other side.
The waiting vehicle is so well camouflaged with netting that Hannah almost doesn’t see it. She literally bumps into it before realizing she’s found it. She grasps the material and pulls it off as quickly as she can before wadding it into a ball, opening the back door, and pushing it inside.
With pounding heart, Hannah yanks open the driver side door and slides into the seat. She finds the ignition button and prays that the vehicle starts when it’s time to take off. Until then, she waits nervously for the ‘fireworks’ to begin.
✽✽✽
Carl inserts a fresh magazine into his rifle’s receiver. He moves his safety switch from semi-auto to full-auto. He’s almost giddy. He’s been itching for a fight for a long time and it’s a fight that he plans on finishing.
Carl moves to some shrubby cover that will offer maximum protection while allowing for a good field of fire.
He can see what appears to be about eight to ten individuals moving in his direction. They are on a direct collision course with his position.
“Come to papa, you bastards,” Carl whispers. “It’s time to play.”
The soldiers are grouped close together. They’re accustom to going about their business unopposed which will prove to be a fatal mistake as they continue on a direct path towards where Carl waits in ambush.
Carl notes the crisp, clear night, and the stillness that is about to be interrupted in a spectacular way.
Looking up at the half moon and stars, he reckons that it’s more than likely he’ll be flying among them in a very short time. He hopes God’s ready for him, but ready or not, chances are he’s coming.
When the approaching soldiers get within twenty feet Carl opens up on those in the lead. Three are hit and immediately fall to the ground. The remaining soldiers dive for cover before spraying automatic weapons fire in Carl’s general direction.
Carl ducks down until the firing slows while anxiously looking towards the other side of the highway. He’s relieved when he sees a vehicle plunge out of the trees, fishtail onto the road, and race away.
Once Carl is confident that Hannah has escaped, he returns his attention to his attackers. Spotting two soldiers rushing towards his position, he fires at one and then the other, dropping them both. He’s sure that by now the light from his muzzle fire has given away his position so he decides to change locations. He’s not sure which way to go because bullets are whizzing all around him.
As Carl begins crawling to his right, a bullet tears through his left side and flips him onto his back. Searing chest pain makes it hard to breath. He struggles to maintain consciousness as blood pumps out of his body.
After briefly assessing his injury, Carl acknowledges that any hopes he may have had about surviving this ordeal are off the table. His primary objective now is to use his last breaths to prevent the remaining soldiers from going after Hannah. He drags himself to a nearby tree and maneuvers himself into a sitting position.
The soldiers are likely reloading and reevaluating the situation because they have stopped shooting. Carl takes advantage of the lull to replace his own spent magazine with a fully loaded one.
Carl listens intently for any sound that would betray his adversary’s whereabouts. They must be close, but where exactly he does not know.
A snapping twig finally gives them away. He realizes they are very close. Carl’s finger finds the rifle trigger as he prepares for the final showdown. It’s not long before the silhouettes of two soldiers appear on his left. They are spitting distance away. As luck would have it, his rifle muzzle is already pointing in that direction. They haven’t seen him yet due to the camouflage of brushy undergrowth.
Carl tries to hold his fire long enough to identify the position of all the remaining soldiers. His plan fizzles when one of the two soldiers spot him leaning against the tree. He has no choice but to open fire. Their close proximity makes them easy targets. They have zero chance to return fire.
Both soldiers lay motionless where they fall. Carl leans his head back on the tree and closes his eyes momentarily while trying to catch his breath. He can feel his lungs filling with fluid as his vision starts to fade.
Carl sets his rifle by his side and puts his hands into his jacket pockets. He shudders as the cold penetrates deep inside of him. The blood loss is taking its toll. His eyes begin to slowly close as his head droops.
✽✽✽
The officer, the only adversary remaining standing, circles around the area near the last exchange of gunfire. He can see his quarry against the tree. He appears to be incapacitated. Preferring to take him alive for interrogation, the officer cautiously approaches the seemingly unconscious man while keeping his pistol at the ready. The man’s head is hanging down, his chin touching his chest.
When the officer gets close enough to Carl, he kicks his foot and says, “So you’re one of the troublemakers?”
Carl struggles to raise his head while laboring to breathe. He replies with great effort, “And you’re a dead man walking.”
“That’s an odd reply for a man in your position.” The officer’s nerves are on display as he glances around searching for additional rebels.
“You think so, huh?” Carl asks laconically right before a shot rings out.
A .45 caliber bullet slams into the officer’s abdomen exiting out the other side. His small intestines spew through the gapping, softball-sized hole left by the 230 grain, hollow point bullet. The impact of the slug drives the officer backward, but he maintains his footing briefly before dropping to his knees. He falls onto his right side with his eyes wide-open. His impending death stare displays both panic and surprise. A gasp followed by a gurgle proves to be his final protest before he goes silent.
Smoke is still emanating from the hole in Carl’s jacket pocket, his hand still on the pistol concealed there.
“I guess you’re right.” Carl acknowledges with a weak smile, “I am a troublemaker.”
Carl rests his head back on the tree as his body begins to shut down. He takes great comfort in knowing that his sacrifice has not been in vain. As he begins his descent into oblivion, he has very few regrets as his life plays out before him. His body finally relaxes as the last remaining vestiges of physical function fade.
The night critters resume their chorus as if nothing has happened. After all, life is for the living, the dead can no longer hold claim.
16 alliances and militias
Jake and John arrive at the communication outpost by late morning. They make a beeline for the building that houses the shortwave radio. The wind turbine has been operational for the last few days so they’re hoping the batteries have had sufficient time to charge.
After inspecting the equipment, they find that, not only do they have electricity, they are able to power up the radio.
Jake enters the frequency used by New Town and takes hold of the handset, before saying, “Come in New Town. This is the Refuge. Over.
”
Jake repeats this phrase a few times before someone answer on the other end. “This is Heckle. Over.”
“This is Jeckle, New Town, we need to talk with someone from your leadership ASAP. It’s urgent. Over.”
“Copy that Refuge,” responds the voice on the other end. “Give me a minute. Over”
After a few minutes the radio silence is broken by New Town. “Refuge, this is Tim. Over.”
Relieved, Jake continues, “Tim, we need to meet today. We need to share some disturbing news and we have a request. Over.”
“We have some disturbing news of our own. When and where? Over.”
“Two o’clock at the old Taum Sauk Mountain Roadside Park. Over.”
“We’ll be there. By the way, how’s Kate? Over.”
“Very sore, but she’s doing well all things considered. Over.”
“Great! We’ll see you at two. Over and out.”
Jake looks to John with relief. “We’re lucky that we met these folks. We’d never stand a chance by ourselves.”
John nods his head in agreement. “Let’s grab those antibiotics and hustle back down the mountain. I’d like to get Kate started on those ASAP.”
After securing the medicine they set off for home. They keep a wary eye out for the mountain lion that attacked the kids. There’ll be a reckoning for that critter at some point, but it won’t be today. Fortunately for the big cat, the two men have more pressing issues that have to be dealt with first.
✽✽✽
Cole runs up to Jake as he and John prepare for the trip to the rendezvous site, “Dad, I need to be at that meeting.”
Jake considers Cole’s request for a few seconds before answering. Cole’s injury is a concern and, while he’d be an asset back here to watch over the rest of the group, he has every right to be at the meeting. He’s proven himself many times over and he deserves the respect that’ll he’ll get from the New Town folks by being a Refuge representative.
“Okay, son. As a founding member of the Refuge, you should be there.”
Jake can see his son swell with pride. He wonders if Cole is sensing a similar emotion emanating from his old man, a father who couldn’t be prouder of his rapidly maturing son.
“Why don’t you top off the fuel in the truck while we finish up here?”
“I’m on it!” Cole’s pleasure is evident as he hurries about his assigned task.
When Cole is out of earshot, John turns to Jake with a smile. “That is one great kid you have there.”
Watching Cole bound away, Jake nods his head slowly, “I know – I know I do.”
✽✽✽
It’s a bit after 2:00 pm when John makes a left onto Highway 21. He proceeds slowly along the half-mile stretch between their entry point to the highway and the roadside park.
As they round the last curve before reaching their destination, they see multiple vehicles parked along the road. Numerous individuals are standing alongside them. The noise of their approaching vehicle prompts everyone’s heads to turn in their direction.
John slows his truck to a stop in the middle of the road as they look for familiar faces.
Tim steps out from behind one of the vehicles and waves them in. Comfortable that this group is composed of friendlies, John continues forward until he can pull alongside their trucks.
Jake is the first one out of the cab to greet Tim as he and others approach. Cole and John follow Jake’s lead.
The group shakes hands and exchange greetings. Jake notes that there are some new faces in the crowd.
“Guys, I’d like you to meet some representatives from two other local communities.” Tim takes command of the introductions.
Four individuals step forward, Tim continues, “This is Pat and Paul from the Sunset community, and Pete and Debbie from the Patriot community.”
Everyone nods while clearly sizing each other up.
Jake follows with, “I’d like to introduce my son, Cole. He, along with a few others in our group, founded the Refuge.”
Tim steps forward and extends his hand, “Nice to meet you, Cole. I’m glad to have young men like you on our side.”
Obviously flattered by Tim’s comments, Cole takes his hand and shakes it firmly.
“Let’s get down to business.” Jake turns the group’s attention to the reason for the meeting. “We have some real problems coming our way and we have little time to waste.”
“Before we go any further, let me tell you what we found last night after speaking with you on the radio,” Tim interrupts anxiously.
As Tim describes the shot-up car and the macabre scene at the railroad trestle, all Jake and John can think is how that could have easily been them hanging from the bridge.
Once Tim finishes chronicling last night’s events, Jake picks up the theme. “This is exactly why we requested this meeting. We think last night is just the beginning. They are not going to leave us alone. We anticipate a much larger force coming back here to finish us once and for all. John was a soldier in their military, he knows what they have done and what they are capable of. I’ll let him tell you in his own words. John?”
John introduces himself before divulging his prior service in the Special Forces. Some in the crowd appear to eye him suspiciously. He ignores the sideway looks and begins describing events leading up to the incident at the RZ. He describes the inhumane treatment of ordinary citizens that eventually led to the government’s final heinous act, murdering everyone at the RZ, residents and ordinary soldiers alike.
The community representatives listen quietly. Expressions of shock and revulsion play across their faces. It may not have been easy to hear but it was necessary for them to understand. They need to know what they are up against.
When John is done, Jake continues, “I can personally confirm much of what John described. I spent time in an RZ before I was able to escape. It was a horrific place that ended tragically when the government perpetrated a mass genocide on the inhabitants, and now they are coming for us.
“No disrespect intended,” Debbie from the Patriot community interrupts, “but how do we know that you’re not a spy for the military?”
“I can personally vouch for John. He no longer has any affiliation, nor does he sympathize with the military or government in any way. In fact, he and I took out an entire company of soldiers as we made our way here, and I would venture to say that he still has a few scores to settle.” Jake hopes that having taken action against the company of soldiers at the Mississippi River crossing will tell in John’s favor. Of course, it all depends on the new groups accepting Jake’s narrative.
Debbie mulls over Jake’s reply before nodding in acceptance of Jake’s response.
Paul from the Sunset Community chimes in, “So, do you recommend that we pack up and leave?”
“No, I say that we stay and fight.” Having gotten support from all at The Refuge, Jake feels confident in the rightness of this recommendation.
“But we’re not soldiers,” Pat, also of the Sunset community, points out. “We have no military training. How are we going to fight trained killers?”
John interjects, “I can train you, and we know the geography of the area so we have that advantage.”
“How many fighters will it take?” Tim is already considering the proposition.
Answering a question with a question, John asks, “How many can we get?”
“Maybe as many as two hundred if we expand our recruiting a bit. Is that enough?” Clearly Tim is going to be a tactical asset in the endeavor.
“It’ll have to be. We won’t be able to match their numbers, but I have some tricks up my sleeve that will help us even the odds.”
“I won’t lie, our chances are slim. Our only viable alternative is to run but if we run, everything we’ve built here will have been for nothing. And to make matters worse, they’ll continue to hunt us wherever we go until there is nowhere else to hide.” Jake feels that laying out the ultimate truth will sway tho
se still in doubt into their camp.
“Jake’s right,” John confirms, “We’re stronger together. I’d rather stand and fight like free men and women than to leave everything we’ve built to run and die like cowards.”
Tim addresses the group, “I agree with Jake and John. We don’t really have a choice, and I for one have spent too much blood, sweat, and tears building what we have here to just walk away from it. My vote is to stay and fight!”
Tim turns to Jake, “I’ll need to run it by the New Town council but I’m pretty confident that they’ll go along with my decision.” The other representatives from New Town nod their heads in agreement.
Pete and Debbie from the Patriot Community have a brief chat before Pete turns back to the group, “Our recommendation to our council will be to join your coalition.”
Following Pete’s lead, Paul nods his agreement, “Ditto for Sunset.”
It’s an emotional tug-of-war moment for Jake. He’s happy that he was able to persuade the other communities to join the fight, but he also knows that he is putting them all in great peril.
Shaking off his reservations, Jake begins the task of organizing their efforts, “Now that everyone is onboard, let’s talk about next steps. Tim, can you take the lead on recruitment?”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Thanks, Tim! While you’re doing that, John and I will begin developing a strategy and a training plan that we will present to the participating communities on Friday, three days from today.”
Tim offers, “We can have the meeting at New Town. We have a facility that will accommodate a large group.”
“Perfect. Let’s set the meeting for 10 am at New Town.”
“Done.” For the first time since discovering the bodies at the bridge Tim feels a glimmer of hope.
Everyone nods his or her head in agreement.
Now that the formal part of the gathering is done, they spend some time getting to know one another. They find that they have much in common as the beginnings of friendships are forged.
