by Ison, S. A.
He now held Marilyn’s and Monroe’s lives in his hands as well. He hoped that it was only the United States that had been affected and that other countries would soon come and lend a hand, but he wasn’t holding his breath.
These people whom he invited to his home, he knew he may well have saved their lives, but in having them help defend this house, they could end up getting killed. Every home was a target now, a possible goldmine of food and supplies. If the occupants of a home didn’t have weapons, there was no way for them to defend what they had. Many people would be victims, and there was going to be a hell of a lot of bloodshed soon. It was only a matter of time before desperate people came to their home. The mountains were a great deterrent, but desperate people would do anything and everything to get their hands on what they had here.
He brought the bags of food from Marilyn’s home into the kitchen. Marilyn was there helping Willene canning meats. He set the bags on the counter and headed back out. He saw Monroe carrying his toys upstairs and the boy grinned at Harry. Harry patted the boy’s head and went back out to the truck. It was going to be a lively household for sure.
The young man, Boggy, joined Harry and helped him bring the rest of Marilyn’s belongings into the house. Earl had gone to the kitchen to help the women. With many hands, Marilyn’s belongings were soon put away. It was getting dark outside and the activity was finally slowing down.
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Mayor Rupert J. Audrey sat back in his large leather chair, his small feet propped up on the large desk. His hands were laced together and resting on his expansive gut while he stared into space. He was trying to wrap his head around the loss of power, the loss of everything. At first he’d thought that perhaps some dolt had hit a powerline, but then that bossy black bitch of a secretary of his, Mary Lou Jaspers, had come in ranting about her smart phone not working.
He’d tried to fire Mary Lou when he took office three years ago, but she’d threatened to go to the NAACP and sue him for wrongful termination. He’d been saddled with her, and it sat in his gut like a rotten piece of meat. His comrades at the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan dug at him like a rooster on a hen about it. A slow smile creased his florid face. The world had come to an end. As far as he knew, there was no longer a government, no law, no prosecutions, and no rules.
Rupert didn’t know if North Korea had bombed them, nor did he know if it were local or country-wide, or even worldwide. His mind raced with the implications. Here he was, the only government, the only power within miles and miles. Lexington might as well be a million miles away. In that big a city, all hell was going to be breaking loose. He chuckled to himself. Here was their chance, he and his cronies from the KKK. The klavern could change and purge his town of the unwanted, the blacks, the Asians, the gays, and the Jews. Anyone who wasn’t white, pure white, and Christian. There was no one to stop them.
There was a loud knock at his door and it jolted him from his thoughts so hard his feet fell off the desk and he fell, nearly hitting his head on the edge of the desk.
“In!” he roared, shaken by the near miss.
Mary Lou came into the spacious room, her eyes frantic. “Mr. Audrey, I need to go home. I need to be with my family. My car don’t work, what am I going to do?” she gripped her handbag to her chest.
“Well… well…I guess ya’ll will just have ta walk your fat black ass home.” Rupert laughed, scooting his chair back up and propping his feet back onto the desk.
“What did you say to me?” Mary Lou asked incredulously, her eyes narrowing on on him.
“I said, ‘Ya’ll kin just walk your fat black ass home.’ You is fired.” He laughed into her angry face.
“You can’t fire me, and what the hell is wrong with you, talking to me like that?” Mary Lou’s voice raised an octave, her hands curling into fists, her body leaning forward.
“I don’t think you understand what has happened, Mary Lou. The world has ended. I’m in charge here, and me and my friends are going to rid this town of no good people like you, the gays, Jews and anyone else that ain’t white. And we gonna get rid of negro lovers, gay lovers, and non-Christian lovers. It is time for a good old-fashioned purge.” Rupert laughed in near hysteria when he saw fear enter the bossy woman’s dark eyes. “Go home woman, gather you’un family and git the hell outta my town, cause me an’ my friends taint gonna spare anyone, man, woman, or young’un.” He grinned evilly.
He laughed harder as the frightened woman ran out of the office. He got up and put his gray jacket on, smoothed down the wrinkles of his white shirt and left the office whistling. He walked down the street toward the police station, breathing a little hard. He wasn’t used to walking so fast, so slowed down as he approached the building.
He nodded his head to the citizens—the white ones; others he ignored. He skipped up the stairs and into the station, his cheeks rosy with joy and exertion. He paused to catch his breath before going to the sheriff’s office.
He walked in. There weren’t many officers around. His eyes narrowed at Officer Howard Deets, a slender black man with a pencil mustache. He looked away and went over to Sheriff Danny Yates’s office. He gave a preemptive knock and walked in.
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Sheriff Danny Yates looked up and smiled, curious. Mayer Audrey was looking very happy for some reason. It had started out a good day, and then the damn power went out. He’d had to open the window to let a breeze in. He felt the sweat trickling down the back of his shirt and down the crack of his ass. He mopped the sweat from his forehead with a bright blue bandana.
“What’s the special occasion, Rupert?” Yates asked, leaning back in his chair and scratching his crotch.
“Our time has come, Danny, our time has come!” Audrey crowed, a large grin on his face.
“Do tell?” Yates asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“This power outage is our beginning. This ain’t no regular power outage, son, this is a miracle. It is an EMP,” Rupert laughed.
“A what? An EMP? What the hell is that?” Yates asked, confused at Rupert’s behavior.
“An EMP is an electromagnet pulse, that kills everythang electrical, you know, phones, TVs, most new cars, you know, everythang. I seen it on National Geographic program. It’s caused by either the sun exploding or somethang or a bomb, a nuclear bomb. I ’spect that them chinks from North Ko-Rea dropped some bombs and killed our power. Boy, we ain’t comin’ back from this. Tain’t no government ’cept me, an’ you of course, and ain’t no military, and we is in the mountains boy, and we, as in we the Klan, can now control our destiny, and run out or kill every black, Mex, Jew, gay or any non-white or non-Christian.” Rupert laughed.
Yates sat back in his chair, shaking his head. Both he and Rupert were high officials in the local chapter of the KKK, and the thought of getting rid of all undesirables in their town was just too good to be true. Not only that, they could begin their own chapter, hand pick their own members.
“You know, Glasglow, Olive Hill, and Shelbyville have the largest klaverns, and we are separated from our own. So we can make our own klavern, maybe call it New World Knights.” Yates grinned broadly, silver shining from the back of his teeth. “I’m sure we can recruit a lot of nice white folks.”
“Surely can. We’ll be high on the hog, it’s pert nigh perfect. We’ll purge all these peckerwoods outta this town.”
“Are you saying we should just kill these folks? People won’t stand for that,” Yates said, shaking his head and scratching the thatch of faded red hair.
“They will leave gladly iffin we make a few examples. Look, we kill a few undesirables, then post notices for all non-whites to leave. Tell them iffin they don’t leave, they will be executed lickity split. Then we take all their food, an’ anythang that’s useful,” the mayor explained. “Now, some thangs need to happen. First, you need to send your most trusted men to cover the grocery stores, make sure no looters take what is ours. I suggest you kill that boy in there, we don’t need no black cops. You need
to get rid of him and that big boy, Patterson.”
Yates sat back and looked at the Mayor. It was an audacious move, and the more he thought about it, the better he liked it. He was tired of all the politically-correct bullshit he had to put up with and walking on eggshells around the two black officers, having to watch what he said around them. To have their world white again, to be top dog, and never look at another non-white face again... His grandchildren could live in a white world. Perfection.
“You’re right, Rupert, this is our time. Let’s get this started,” Yates said, standing up and pulling out his service revolver. He checked his weapon and then he walked to the door, his heart pounding and his adrenaline pumping through his veins. He’d wanted to do this for a very, very long time.
He couldn’t believe he was doing this, and his hands shook with excitement. His daddy had told him about a few blacks he’d killed and his granddaddy had killed. A smile spread across his broad features, his face flushed with excitement.
He walked out into the squad room. several officers were standing around, shooting the shit.
Yates walked over to Officer Deets. Deets was looking down at some paperwork when the sheriff walked up to him. He looked up, and jerked back when Yates brought his gun up and blew his brains out all over his desk. The other four officers drew their weapons, crouching and looking around for the threat. Dimmesdale, the janitor, dropped to the ground and crawled under a desk.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Men, put your weapons away. Mayor Audrey and I are taking over this town. An EMP, an electromagnetic pulse, has taken down our country. What that means is there will be no more power, no more phones, no more cars, unless we got older trucks and cars,” Sheriff Yates announced, looking around at the men. “The government ain’t going to help us, nor is the military. We are too cut off here in these here mountains. We are now on our own, and we and the KKK will take this town and make it right, make it white!” Yates bellowed, looking around the room again, making eye contact with each of his men.
He smiled with a broad grin, his silver and gold capped molars showing. His already red and freckled face grew redder, and his eyes were nearly wild.
“Sir, this is wrong, this is madness. We can’t kill our own, and we can’t allow the KKK to put its tentacles into this town. You just murdered a good man!” Officer Stroh cried, his face flushed scarlet and his blue eyes tearing up. He had not put down his gun.
“Stroh, you’re a good man and I hate to lose you, but you’re fired. Get you and your family out of this town. You have twenty-four hours. If you don’t, son, I will kill you and your family,” Sheriff Yates said calmly, his blue eyes flat.
Officer Stroh looked at the sheriff, then to the Mayor, and then to the other officers, his body shaking violently. He was shaking his head, tears now streaming freely down his face. His mouth was open and trembling, his breath coming out harshly. The gun in his hand, which was shaking violently, was still pointed at Sheriff Yates.
Sheriff Yates walked over and gently removed the service revolver from the young man’s hand. Turning, he walked to Officer Gene Grady and handed the man the weapon. “Grady, are you willing to stay on?” At the man’s nod, he continued. “Go find ten or more like-minded men and women and bring them here. I and the mayor will deputize them. I will write up some flyers for all non-white and non-Christian citizens to vacate Beattyville now.”
“Yes sir.” Grady grinned, and looked over to Stroh. He shook his head. He tucked the extra gun in the back of his trousers and left the office. Dimmesdale crawled out from under the desk and stood, looking in horror at the dead officer.
“I ain’t cleanin that mess up. I quit!” Jimmy Dimmesdale cried and ran out the door, slamming the door behind him.
“Well, shit,” Yates said, looking down at the dead officer, the blood pooling on the floor, spreading out.
“Don’t worry ’bout it Danny, I’ll help you clean up this mess,” Mayor Audrey said, his mood jovial.
“Now boys, we need to move fast. I need you two to go to all the stores and lock them down. We need to control everything from water, to gas, to food. The same goes for you, Tom and Vern. I need you to find good upstanding folks and we will deputize them. Have them come here, and then we will have them guard the buildings and get this town protected. Go to Deets’s house and get rid of his widow, take all their supplies, then burn the house down.
He watched the two officers look at each other, then looked at the dead officer. “Boys, trust me, this is our time. Life is gonna get hard. There ain’t gonna be enough food for all of us, but if we move fast and are ruthless, we will survive this. But the more non-whites we have, the less your children will have.” He pushed his point and noticed the turn-around. Mention a man’s family and you have them by the balls.
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The air was sweet, the cool breeze coming from the north. The creak of the swing was rhythmic and soothing. Willene and Marilyn pushed gently against the worn planks of the porch. The aromatic drift of pipe tobacco danced on the wind as Harry drew the smoke into his lungs as he sat rocking in the large wooden rocking chair.
Boggy and Earl sat on the far end of the porch, nearly invisible in the dark night. Periodically they lit the night with the tips of their cigarettes. The tree frogs serenaded them from the verdant forest and the lightning bugs blinked through the dark leaves. It was peaceful, yet the group was tense.
The flurry of activity had been frantic, but most of the food had now been processed. He felt as though the air had been knocked out of him, and his body was tired and wired. The pipe helped calm his nerves, and around the house it was peaceful.
Below, in the distance, fires burned, and periodic gunshots echoed around the hills and valleys. Six hours had passed since the EMP, and below the farmhouse hell was breaking loose. He was grateful they were far away from the violence and the town.
Harry cleared his throat, trying to clear his thoughts. He heard the others shift around him and knew they were waiting on him to talk. He gathered his thoughts like putting pebbles in his palm, and looked out into the darkness.
“There will be trouble ahead. Bad trouble. We need to plan and prepare while we have the time. For now, I think folks in the bigger cities will have their hands full with looting and fighting. But soon they will start to move out and spread out like a diseaseh” He said slowly, his deep voice calm.
“When you’uns thank things alget get back ta normal?” Boggy asked, a soft quaver sneaking out.
“Maybe in about one hundred years, maybe never,” Harry said, and he heard a soft sob from the nineteen-year-old. Harry knew that he’d crushed all hope for the young man, but the kid needed to know the truth.
Harry continued in a soft voice, addressing Willene. “Tomorrow I need you and Marilyn to do an inventory of all food stuff so we can see what we are working with and how to proceed with meals.” He saw the dim nod from Willy.
“I have a Wonder-bag; it can be really useful for making meals with no electricity,” Marilyn offered.
“What is a Wonder-bag?” Willy and Harry asked at the same time.
“The original idea came from Africa, I believe, but it is essentially a large bag with insulation inside. You cook what you want for about twenty minutes, say a stew or chili, or whatever, on the stove or over a fire. Then you put your pot inside the large bag and close it up tight. It will continue to cook your food for up to twelve hours. You use less fuel in the long run, and you have a nice meal at the end of the day. I never liked using an electric slow cooker, leaving it plugged in all day. It made me nervous. I used it when I have a heavy workload…had a heavy workload…” Her voice choked up.
“That’s a good idea, as that will save the propane. How much do we have and how long do you think it will last?” Harry asked his sister.
“We have one hundred gallons of propane, I had it filled two weeks ago, knowing you were coming home and also gearing up for canning season. If we are careful and use it spar
ingly, we can maybe get two years out of it. If we use the wood portion of the stove in the fall and winter, we can have propane for maybe another year,” Willene said.
“Good. Boggy, were you able to get your hands on some explosives?”
“I could only git a half dozen or more of No. 8 caps and six straight dynamites and four straight gelatins,” Boggy said.
“Straight?” Harry asked.
“It juss means that thar taint any ammonia in the formula,” he said, inhaling deeply on his second cigarette.
“What is the ammo situation? I have some boxes of 9 mm and I have my Sig Sauer rifle and a few boxes of ammo for that as well. My grandfather has hunting rifles down in the basement gun safe as well as ammo for that, I believe. I’ll have to check,” Harry said.
“With all these guns, I’ll need to speak with Monroe. I can’t have him touching them,” Marilyn said in a worried voice.
“I can also speak with him. Teach him gun safety,” Harry said.
“I brung my deer rifle an’ all the ammo I have, I’m afeared ta say, it taint much, I ain’t got nary none but a few boxes. I also got a couple boxes fir the 38,” Earl said.
“I gots a couple boxes of 7 mm, 150 grain,” Boggy said.
“Okay. We will need to be conservative on weapons use and ammo, unless we can find more. We need to think about setting up early warning trip wires around the house and property. We need to make sure that Monroe stays in the front or back yards, close to the house, and not go into the surrounding forest,” Harry said.
“Down at the drive entry has grown over a mite, I was gonna hire someone to bush-hog it, but Peapot said to let it grow over. With the two black walnut trees down there, it is hard to see that there is a driveway. Maybe we can put up more scrub down there,” Willene suggested.
“Good idea. Tomorrow I can cut down some saplings and maybe transplant some down there. Make it more difficult to get through. Make a blind, so strangers going by won’t see anything, or at least perhaps fool them,” Harry said.
