299 Days: The 17th Irregulars

by Glen Tate

  Grant sensed this was the time to present his best argument.

  “You guys are Oath Keepers,” he said, looking them in the eyes. “You get why this is necessary. You’ve seen this coming for years. Don’t deny it. You knew that eventually it would come to this. This is our moment, gentlemen. We’ve been called on to do what’s necessary, just like the Founding Fathers’ generation. It’s our turn. It’s a huge honor to be given this opportunity. A huge honor.” Grant kept staring them in the eyes, waiting for that to sink in.

  Rich and Dan were still silent. They were thinking. Something like this couldn’t just be agreed upon on the fly. This was serious stuff, with many implications. And it was a game changer for Pierce Point. This would mean the Limas would be gunning for Pierce Point if the existence of the Patriot unit was discovered, as it probably would be. That meant fighting regular Lima forces, which could easily overpower the gate guards. It also meant dozens or even hundreds of well-armed strangers in their midst. Rich and Dan had heard the stories about defecting military units turning into gangs. And now Grant wanted to invite them into Pierce Point?

  Dan was the first to speak. “Grant, I hate war. I’ve been in it. I’ve seen horrible things. People’s heads blown off. Legs blown off. Ever seen a guy who gets blinded and comes running at you, screaming that he can’t see? Ever talk to his wife?”

  Grant was silent.

  “A rocket attack on the Bagram Airfield,” Dan said, staring out into the surrounding area. “Explosions everywhere. Shrapnel everywhere. You ever seen what shrapnel does to human beings?”

  More silence. Grant was unqualified to disagree.

  “You know,” Dan said, “that the other side will have rockets, mortars—God I hate mortars—and probably air cover. You know what a 500 pound aerial bomb does to a few dozen of your closest friends? Or your neighbors? Kids and all. Or what a helicopter gun ship can do? That shit ain’t fair. It ain’t the rifles and pistols we use out here, where you basically know who you’re killing. The shit they’ll have is indiscriminate and lethal. And maiming.”

  Dan straightened up his posture, as if to deliver something he didn’t want to say.

  “With all due respect, Grant,” he said, looking Grant straight in the eyes, “you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

  For the first time out here, Grant was scared and wondered what he had gotten himself into. He worried that he’d made a wrong decision, a huge miscalculation.

  Rich finally spoke, interrupting Grant’s worrying mind.

  “What can the Patriots do for us if we provide sanctuary, fighters, and a training facility?” Rich asked. He was thinking of this as a business transaction; not a greedy transaction, but a prudent one.

  “Protection,” Grant said quickly. He had thought of the answer to this question in advance of asking them for their blessing. “A shit load of extremely well trained and well-armed troops. It beats the crap out of anything around here. The Blue Ribbon Boys against Special Forces? Please.” He sighed.

  “Intelligence,” Grant added. “That’s another thing we’ll get. We’ll know way in advance of what’s coming into our area and across the state. We’ll be days ahead of the curve of other communities. That alone could save all of us.”

  “Oh,” Grant said with a big smile. “Supplies. Food for the fighters and equipment. We’ll be in the Patriot system. The support system. If we need resources from the wider area, we’ll have them.”

  Grant had no idea if that was true. Sometimes a leader has to do or say those sorts of things on a whim, and then has to figure out how to make the promises come true. Grant figured this was a safe promise and that Pierce Point would get supplies from being the Patriot system. Probably. Hopefully.

  “It’s the beach I’m worried about,” Rich said, switching the topic and keeping the conversation going, which was a good sign.

  “And the skies,” Dan said. “Air cover is a bitch. Grant, you need to quit thinking about this as a small-arms, police-type situation. What you’re suggesting is a full-on military situation. Bombs. Rockets, helicopters. Massive civilian deaths. Maybe even your own family.”

  That stung. Grant realized he had never thought of any of this affecting his family. He had been thinking of himself: any impact on his family would be from him being gone for a while. In fact, Grant had only thought about the impact on his family as being that his wife would be pissed at him. Not that a bomb would demolish his cabin and those around it. Or level the Grange and everyone in it. Grant was terrified. He had not considered what a real military fight was all about.

  You will win. Faith.

  Grant got goose bumps. Actual bumps on his arms followed by that unexplainable calm feeling. Was it really the outside thought or was Grant just trying to comfort himself? There was no way to explain the calm. It was not a human thing. Grant relaxed and became confident again.

  “We will win,” Grant said, not really sure what he was going to say next. The words were just flowing like he had no control over what was coming out of his mouth.

  “Look at how weak the government is,” Grant said so persuasively that he surprised himself. “We’re finishing them off. They can’t mount offensive operations. Maybe in Seattle or DC or wherever, but not out here in the sticks. They don’t give a shit about Frederickson, let alone Pierce Point. They’ve left this territory to hacks, like Winters. He’s just a corrupt politician running some rackets, with a couple dozen Blue Ribbon Boys who are not exactly top-notch fighters. Rich, you saw them.”

  Rich nodded slightly.

  “If the government was so strong,” Grant said, once again wondering what would come out of his mouth next, “why haven’t they attacked us yet? If they had any strength, they should have stormed in here and looked for that semi of food. You know what that thing is worth?”

  Grant pointed in the direction of the gate, which was a few miles away. “What did they do to go get their extremely valuable semi-truck full of food? They sent two cops and Rich bribed them with a bottle of booze. That’s all they got. Two cops who can be easily bribed. That’s what we are supposed to be afraid of?”

  Grant looked at Dan and, wanting to puff up his ego a bit, asked, “Why didn’t the authorities come into Pierce Point, Dan? Your guards and those dogs. Did you see the look on Bennington’s face when he saw the dogs? We have a unique position here, guys. We have an extremely defensible position. And assets. Dogs, guards, snipers, beach patrol. We’re not some typical subdivision of unarmed and scared suburbanites—those are the only people the government has the strength to push around.”

  Grant shook his head. “That ain’t us, gentlemen. We have a functioning system out here. We’re feeding our people; they’re standing in lines for sacks of flour back in town. It’s a natural fit for us to work with these SF guys and get things back.”

  Returning to a time of decency was his best argument, so Grant pressed it.

  “You like things the way they are?” He asked Dan and Rich. “You like having to guard your community full time? How long can we keep that up? A year? A decade? Are you kidding me? You know, and I know, that in a few months or a year, tops, the super gangs will be roaming.” He said, referencing when separate gangs united and started massive raping, pillaging, and killing sprees. “They’ll come out here,” Grant said. “You know what that means.”

  Dan and Rich started to acknowledge to themselves that the current situation could not last. Something long term needed to be done. If the Loyalists won, they would roll into places that had food and resources and pick the place clean. Places just like Pierce Point. Or maybe the super gangs would get there before the Loyalists did. Pierce Point had no choice.

  “I’m an Oath Keeper,” Dan said after a long pause. “I will honor my oath. And that means doing whatever I can to stop what’s happening and fix things.” Dan dreaded saying that, because he knew exactly how painful that would be. He’d seen it at Bagram.

  “Me, too,” Rich said. “I don�
��t want to do this. But what are the options? You and the Team will just leave to join the Patriots. Then we’re screwed.”

  Grant had never even thought about leaving Pierce Point in order to join up with Ted. He would never leave his family and friends, but if Rich thought Grant was threatening to leave with the Team, and that would be a reason for Rich to agree to let Ted come in, then Grant would roll with it.

  “I have no intention of leaving,” Grant said, which was true, “but I can’t control my guys, who definitely want to join up with Ted. They already have.” Grant let that sink in.

  He decided to switch from mildly threatening Dan and Rich to focusing on the positive aspects of them getting behind the Ted project. “We’re in a much stronger position,” Grant said, “with a bunch of well-trained, well-equipped, well-led fighters who are tapped into a much larger network than our little community.”

  He looked Rich and Dan in the eye again and said, “In the situation we’re in out here, more is better. More fighters, more guns, more supplies. We will get that with the Patriots. Or, by doing nothing, we will get slow attrition and eventual death.”

  Rich and Dan just stared at Grant. They were thinking.

  Then Rich started nodding slightly.

  “Ask yourselves this,” Grant said, suddenly thinking of a great argument. “Which would Winters and the gangs rather see: Pierce Point having a big and well-trained fighting unit or just guarding the gate and beach with volunteers?”

  That sealed the deal. Rich and Dan both were nodding solidly now.

  “OK,” Rich said, “I agree that we should explore a relationship with this Ted guy and the Patriots.”

  Rich turned to Dan and said, “Dan, what you think?”

  “I don’t want to do it,” Dan said, shaking his head.

  Grant’s heart sank.

  Dan looked at Grant and said, “However, I can see how we might be better off. But I have some questions. Like, about air cover and what kind of assets the Loyalists can throw at us. I also want to know how many other places will be like Pierce Point. Are we the only place training fighters or are we one of a hundred in this part of the state? That would have a huge impact on the odds of some F-15s flying overhead or some helicopters coming to call.”

  Dan pointed his finger at Grant and said, “I’m serious, Grant. I want answers before I’m OK with this. If I am ever OK with this. I want a military plan presented to me. A detailed and professional military plan.”

  Then Dan’s demeanor softened up and he said, “I’m open to hearing the facts, but they need to be facts and not hopes.”

  Grant couldn’t ask for more than that.

  “Sure,” Grant said. “I’ll arrange for Ted to talk to you guys. He just pops by whenever.” Actually, Sap left a radio with Scotty so they could get a hold of them, but Rich and Dan didn’t need to know that. Grant felt bad keeping secrets from his friends, even little ones like the radio.

  “Hey, Grant,” Dan said, realizing he’d been a little too negative about this Special Forces thing, “I’m not on you about this. I am grateful that you know people like this Ted guy. I’m glad you’re doing all you can to change things. I just have some experiences that mean I question all this war talk. It ain’t all fun and games. I used to think so. If I get satisfactory answers, I’m all in. I’m a Patriot. I just don’t want to get my people killed for no reason.”

  “Fair enough,” Grant said. “No offense taken, Dan. I want guys like you who know more about this topic to help us make the best decisions.”

  “Well, time to go to work,” Rich said, switching gears. The meeting was over abruptly. They walked silently back into the Grange as if they had just had a discussion about…treason. They had. At least treason to the former government.

  Grant went to Linda, the dispatcher, and asked her to get Scotty on the radio. He knew the Grange radio was not secure, so he chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to give too many details, even in code speak, but he wanted Scotty to be able to tell Ted and Sap that there was a valid reason to come out. Grant realized that they should have come up with some code words for many situations like this one.

  After a few minutes, Scotty came on the radio. “What’s up, man?” he asked in the disciplined military protocol the Team was known for. Yet another sign that they weren’t taking themselves too seriously or being mall ninjas, Grant thought.

  “Ted project, dude.” Grant said. “Get them out here tonight for cocktails after dinner. It’s a dog and pony show for Fred 1 and Badger 9.” No one had used those cheesy code names they came up with in so long that Grant had trouble remembering Rich’s and Dan’s handles. He wasn’t sure he got the numbers right, but “Fred” and “Badger” were close enough to tell Scotty that the meeting guests of Rich and Dan were important enough for Ted and Sap to come see.

  “RT,” Scotty said, which was their term for “roger that.” It was an acronym they came up with before the Collapse when they would text each other about when a shooting session would be. Besides, Grant felt stupid saying “Roger that” when they weren’t really military or law enforcement. He also thought “RT” might throw off anyone who could be listening.

  “Let me know tonight at dinner that you’ve made the arrangements,” Grant said.

  “RT,” Scotty said again.

  Grant handed the radio back to Linda who had absolutely no idea what he had just been talking about.

  Chapter 178

  Sandy and Walter

  (July 8)

  Grant finished the morning with two commitment trials. He empanelled a jury and heard Rory, one of the nurses, describe how two people went off their mental meds and needed to be committed.

  Rory was becoming the mental health nurse, even though he wasn’t trained in that before the Collapse.

  The first person to be committed was Sandy McPherson. It was absolutely heartbreaking. She was in her mid-thirties with blonde hair and was the mother of two great little kids. She originally lived in Seattle. After her first child, Eli, was born, she developed very severe postpartum depression. It got worse after the second child, Josh. She essentially couldn’t function and her husband left her. It was just her—a severely depressed single woman—with two kids.

  She was determined to do the very best for her little Eli and Josh, no matter how hard it was. She came out to Pierce Point and got a job at her cousin’s store in Frederickson. She got on various medications and, after some trial and error, found trazodone (Desyrel) to work well and she was able to function normally. She was very proud of how hard she worked to make everything OK, especially for her kids. No one knew she had depression.

  Then the Collapse hit. She only had a few days of Desyrel left. She zoomed into the Frederickson pharmacy on the first day and tried to get a refill. They didn’t have any and the next day, the pharmacy closed. All the other pharmacies in the area closed then, too. At the last pharmacy she tried, she saw the sign on the door that said “Out of Business.” She cried in her car in the parking lot for over an hour. She cried until her face hurt. The drive back home was the scariest time of her life. She knew she would have to try to live without Desyrel.

  The stress of knowing the medication was running out and all the stress of the Collapse was too much. Two days after the Desyrel ran out, she hit a new low. All she thought about was killing herself and, on occasion, killing little Eli, age four, and Josh, age two. They were the most adorable little boys; blond hair and smiling all the time. They were so huggable and loveable, which is what drove her to think about killing them. They were so precious and innocent. She didn’t want them to live through the hell that was all around her, and she was convinced that the hell of the Collapse would never go away. Never ever. Things would never get better because she would never have her Desyrel back.

  She kept dwelling on the idea that she was being the best mom in the world by taking the kids out of this horrible place. She had fantasies of Eli and Josh thanking her for taking them away. She had
a little gas left in her car and decided to run the engine in the closed garage and they would all go to sleep, forever.

  She was trying hard to fight against the part of her that desperately wanted to do that. In a moment of panic, she stumbled over to a neighbor’s house and told them what she was thinking and begged for help. She was so ashamed about her thoughts of running the car in the garage, but she knew that she had to go to the neighbors and get help. Her motherly instinct to protect her young was still stronger than the depression.

  As Grant listened to the evidence in the case, he became furious at the Collapse. As horrible as the past system was with all its corruption, at least the government had managed to make sure there was Desyrel at the Frederickson pharmacy for Sandy. Now there wasn’t any. The Collapse did this. Well, the government giving everything away in exchange for votes and people thinking they could live like kings on other’s labor, was what caused the Collapse. But still. It felt like the Collapse was to blame for what was happening to Sandy.

  He hated the Loyalists even more right then. They had built up a system that was bound to fail and it was hurting people like Sandy. And Eli and Josh. Loyalist officials in Olympia, Seattle, and certainly Washington, D.C. had all the medication they needed. Pierce Point could go to hell as far as they cared. Sandy could go to hell; she was already there. The Loyalists would never know about her, or Eli or Josh. Sandy and her kids were a problem for the hillbilly teabaggers to solve.

  Challenge accepted, Grant thought. We’ll do the very best we can.

  The neighbors had locked Sandy in a room in their house, which was what Sandy had asked them to do. Pleaded, actually. The neighbors went over and got the kids, called more neighbors and decided to take Sandy to the Pierce Point clinic so see if there was anything they could do for her. Lisa and Rory checked her out and quickly realized that there was nothing medically they could do without some more Desyrel. Sandy asked that she be put somewhere where she wouldn’t hurt the kids. She was relieved, in some small way that her secret was out. Hiding this had been more of a weight than she realized.