299 Days IX: The Restoration

by Glen Tate

  The “legitimate authorities” burned down houses and shot people trying to flee? That was “legitimate”?

  Judy saying the “legitimate authorities” would burn down people’s houses starkly illustrated just how illegitimate the authorities really were. The authorities Judy worked for. And now she was finally realizing how evil that system was. It took something like this to open her eyes.

  “Thank you, Judy,” Ron said and got up to hug her. “You are a hero for coming here and telling me this.” Judy needed that hug. She deserved it.

  Chapter 310

  Picking the Wrong Side?

  (January 2)

  It had been just over twenty-four hours since Jeanie Thompson had learned of the Patriot attack. At first, it had seemed like they were attacking everywhere at once. It was a trick, she realized now. The Patriots were creating diversions to draw attention away from their real target: Olympia. In the early stages of the attack, they went after targets in Seattle and the suburbs. They hit Seattle-area political targets, police stations and FCorps facilities, mostly. They also assassinated several dozen government officials, including some high-ranking ones. Jeanie wondered if they got any of the people she had given tours to at Camp Murray.

  The Patriots also raided the homes and mansions of some of the big government contractors. They killed the guards and the CEOs, but spared the spouses and children. They had very good intelligence and made pinpoint strikes. It looked like some of the guards were in on the raids. This sent most of the remaining elected officials and big government contractors into hiding. They couldn’t trust anyone anymore. This had a devastating effect on the government’s command and control; with so many officials in hiding, they couldn’t direct a counterattack. All of this was possible as soon the Limas couldn’t trust their own security guards.

  The Patriots had also attacked throughout the state. They hit county seats, going after courthouses, county police stations, and any FCorps facilities in the rural areas. They hit some of the corporate food processors in the agricultural areas of eastern Washington. They stole truckloads of food and let the Mexicans, who were basically slaves on the farms, go free.

  The Patriots’ goal was to cause massive confusion and force the Loyalists to rush out in every direction in an attempt to reinforce all their forces. All the while, the main target was Olympia. The state capitol. The symbolic state capitol.

  Olympia fell after only twenty-four hours. The political people had basically abandoned Olympia in the last few weeks. Everyone who was anybody had slowly and quietly moved from there to Seattle. The good troops and equipment were moved to JBLM and Seattle. All defensible resources were concentrated into one area, and it wasn’t Olympia.

  Of course, the National Guard and Lima police trying to defend Olympia would have liked knowing that they were a hollowed out outpost with no backup. They would have gone AWOL like everyone else, except for the hardcore Limas who knew they’d never be pardoned by the Patriots. Jeanie shook her head when she thought of all the poor National Guard kids who were sacrificed in Olympia.

  Camp Murray was pretty much empty now that everyone important and even not-so-important was in Seattle. They left lowly people, like Jeanie, behind. Camp Murray was not yet in any danger of being taken by the Patriots because it was still in the JBLM ring and was heavily fortified. But the same thing that happened to Olympia could happen to them inside the JBLM ring: diverting forces from there to Seattle and then falling quickly to a Patriot attack.

  People kept coming up to Jeanie and telling her how they never supported the “legitimate authorities.” Many were more coy than that because they could never knew if the Patriots would lose and the legitimate authorities would be back in power, so they hedged their statements by saying things like, “Politics are so stupid. I just want things to get back to normal.” That was odd because Jeanie knew some of them were actively involved in politics when their side was in power. It was funny how people feign a sudden disinterest in politics when it might cost them something.

  Jeanie had no idea what would happen next. She was on the fence on whether she should just wait it out or make her way to Olympia. She told herself if she did go to Olympia, it would just be to see what was going on there. It’s not like she was retreating from Camp Murray and going back to an area the Patriots controlled. It’s not like she had picked the wrong side she kept telling herself.

  Chapter 311

  An Extra Day Off

  (January 2)

  In Seattle, it was almost midnight and Prof. Carol Matson was getting ready for work tomorrow after the New Year’s Day holiday, which had been surprisingly extended. They were scheduled to return to work the day after New Year’s Day, but they got an extra day off. Apparently there had been some logistical snafus on New Year’s Day and all the employers in Seattle, which were almost all government and quasi-governmental agencies, let their workers stay home. An extra day off! Carol thought of it as just one example that showed how much better things were now that the progressives finally got to run things. The workers were now being treated much better than they were when the corporations ran everything.

  Carol had been following the events of New Year’s Day and the day after. She tuned into NPR, which always had good news on. NPR was broadcasting that some police stations were hit by the terrorists on New Year’s Day. She rolled her eyes at the teabaggers – New Year’s? Really? They were so unimaginative. “New year, new bosses,” was probably their message. How juvenile.

  NPR commentators discussed how the teabaggers were attacking police stations to steal guns. That made sense: the Neanderthal teabaggers loved their guns – and using guns to impose their narrow views on everyone else.

  NPR was reporting that, in a weird set of coincidences, some government officials were killed in apparent home invasions by street criminals. The break-ins were probably just to get some food to eat, Carol thought. NPR explained that people who broke the laws, usually greedy people thwarting the Recovery, had their FCards revoked and probably were stealing to eat. Just follow the laws, Carol thought, and you’ll be taken care of. Society was a compact where the people agreed on the laws and punishments for breaking them; break the laws and society doesn’t need to take care of you. It was only fair. Revoking FCards from lawbreakers was how the authorities were helping people make sure to follow the laws.

  Lastly, NPR mentioned that there had been some attacks in Olympia, but the legitimate authorities put it down and were firmly in control. NPR said to expect some teabagger propaganda soon with altered photographs claiming to show they had taken Olympia. The police captured some documents in which the teabaggers detailed their plan to falsely claim that they took Olympia. That was just like the teabaggers, Carol thought. The only thing they have is lies. Who would believe those so-called “Patriots”?

  Carol forced herself to turn off NPR so she could get to sleep and get to work well rested. She was careful to quietly go into her bedroom. Her little off-campus house was full of new houseguests. Her first set of guests in June, Maria and her two adorable little boys, Enrique and Fabiano, were refugees from Los Angeles after the riots. They were undocumented immigrants and the good people of southern California, unlike the rednecks in Texas, tried to accommodate as many of them as possible. But years of underspending on social services and public infrastructure in California meant there weren’t enough resources for them down there. Seattle gladly took them in, and Carol volunteered to house them. They were issued FCards and lived with her until right before Thanksgiving. Then they were given jobs in eastern Washington at a potato processing plant. They were sad to leave but understood that everyone needed to do their part for the Recovery.

  This freed up Carol’s little house for more houseguests. Right before Christmas, she received word that she’d be getting a family from Olympia. She wasn’t told much about her new family, a nice couple with two high-school aged sons, due to security concerns. Apparently, the mom in the family worked for some
important state agency and the family was relocated to a safe place like Seattle. They didn’t talk much about Olympia, but it sounded to Carol like things had been rough on government officials down in Olympia over the previous few weeks. Not everyone was pulling their weight for the Recovery, it seemed, and there were some greedy people jealous of officials who were working hard to help people. The mom still worked for the state agency in the offices they took over at the University, and the dad volunteered for the FCorps. The sons had joined the National Guard and were preparing to start training. They were a very nice family.

  Carol appreciated the extra FCards the family brought to her house. As public employees, all four of them had a generous amount of credits, which was good because food and little luxuries were becoming harder to find in Seattle. They were still available, it just took some searching. The mom, in particular, seemed to know which stores had things. The alternative was the black market, which seemed to be gaining strength every day. It was becoming common for people to openly buy and sell from the little stands that were popping up on street corners. Everyone knew the buying and selling, usually by barter and without all the necessary permits, was illegal. Yet no one seemed to shut them down, except occasional ones who were made into examples. Carol made her first illegal purchase at the end of December. She really, really needed some pretty wrapping paper for a winter solstice gift for her new houseguests. She traded a pound of coffee she purchased with her FCard for the wrapping paper, which was adorned with cute little reindeer. It was for a good cause: she was brightening up her houseguests’ holiday after they had to relocate.

  Carol tried to be as quiet as possible when she tiptoed from the living room into her bedroom. As she walked by the two sons sleeping on the couch and floor, she wondered why her family, mainly her brother, couldn’t be like them. Nice. Helping in the Recovery.

  Chapter 312

  Life in Forks

  (January 2)

  It was almost midnight in Forks and Steve Briggs was getting ready for tomorrow. It would be January 3rd tomorrow and would be another day in Forks of … surviving. But, in reality, his day tomorrow would consist primarily of just visiting with people. There wasn’t much to do this time of year in the near-constant rain and long periods of darkness; no gardens to tend, no decent hunting, and few fish in the rivers. There were things to repair, but usually no parts, and routine patrols to go on in town, but life in Forks meant doing a whole lot of nothing.

  Surprisingly, this was just fine with Steve. The Collapse Christmas in Forks had been monumental. The whole town seemed to pull together. Carolers strolled through the streets singing Christmas carols. People gave each other meaningful, but simple, gifts. And there was that fabulous after-dinner moonshine sipping session after Christmas dinner at city hall. It was not a bad way to spend the winter.

  People weren’t eating as well now as they were in the fall or especially summer, but the majority of people stored food from the times of the year when it was plentiful. Not all of them did, and some who did didn’t store as much as they should have. Everyone was losing weight, which wasn’t such an awful thing. Steve had to admit that country living before the Collapse put on the pounds. Big country breakfasts made sense when people worked hard physically all day logging or doing something similarly as exerting, but before the Collapse, that wasn’t exactly the way of life. People just ate like it was. When the Collapse hit, people became physically active in ways they had never been before, while no longer having access to a grocery store full of sausage, butter, and gravy mix. It became common for those XXXL shirts to start draping over men and women like an oversized blanket on their now-L frames.

  Crime was still a sporadic issue, but there was no looting. Shooting people early on worked, as much as Steve wished it hadn’t had to happen. Now, with a couple months of the Collapse behind him, Steve could see things differently. The pre-Collapse shitbags in town (and there were quite a few) could be shitbags when the living was easy, when the EBT cards had money on them and the store had plenty of Doritos. Now it was much harder to be a shitbag. They got over their lazy lifestyles pretty quickly now that they had to actually work and no one just handed them anything. Oh, sure, it took a period of adjustment and some of the shitbags never adjusted, but they were quickly shunned by the community or, in some cases, shot when they were caught stealing.

  Steve was especially happy to see some of the young people change their shitbag ways and … grow up and become productive. He had to admit it was hard to be a young person in pre-Collapse America and not give in to the shitbag lifestyle. They were told, starting in middle school, that it was okay to get “public assistance.” In high school, the schools were one-stop social service centers preparing the kids for a life of public assistance if that’s what they chose. And there were almost no jobs for them, so who could be surprised that so many got on the dole? He went from being mad at them to feeling sorry for them. It was so obvious that politicians created this. They got votes from people for “caring” and providing “public assistance,” and they got votes from young people, the few who bothered to vote, to keep free stuff flowing. Those “caring” voters and young voters were often just enough for the side proposing even more spending to win. Now, after the Collapse, it was so obvious to Steve.

  The perfect example of this was Steve’s nephew, Phil McGuire. He drifted through high school without ever having a summer job or working after school, much to Steve’s chagrin. But it was rare before the Collapse for teenagers to work; they needed time to play video games and text their friends. Phil fit into this category perfectly. After high school graduation, he couldn’t find a job, but he didn’t really try to find one. He lived with his mom, Steve’s sister, and her boyfriend. When he turned eighteen, he was told about all the free stuff he could get, including the magical EBT card. It was free money and he didn’t have to do anything to get it. He spent the next few years on the couch at his mom’s house and having a carefree life.

  When the Collapse hit, he was bewildered that he couldn’t sit on the couch and get everything given to him. At first, he was mad. Steve told him that life had changed, but “Uncle Steve” was just being his hard ass self, Phil thought.

  But slowly, Phil started volunteering for various jobs. Steve took him under his wing. He had to teach Phil how to work. He had to teach him to get up on time, to wear work clothes, and to actually get a job done. Phil would constantly want to take a break after working a few minutes. He had no concept of finishing a job; he was just putting time in and thought he got credit for just showing up. “We don’t quit until the job is done,” Steve would have to tell him.

  Phil improved considerably in the fall. By Christmas, Steve could tell him to do a project and it got done, always slowly and sometimes poorly, but Phil was finally putting in true effort. His transformation was complete when, after Christmas, Steve told him to split and stack firewood for an elderly neighbor lady and, to Steve’s pleasant surprise, the job was done before dark, with no supervision from Steve. Phil seemed much happier because, for the first time in his life, he was productive. He had finally grown up and was a man.

  Like so many other things during the Collapse, the good, like Phil’s transformation, came with the other side of the coin, the bad, like all the people dying of simple illnesses that winter.

  The big concern in town was the all the deaths from pneumonia and the flu. People were so run down, especially the elderly, and were cold and weren’t getting the nutrition they needed. All the stress from the Collapse also degraded their immune systems. Little colds were turning into full-on serious illnesses and there were no antibiotics. Steve was going to way too many funerals lately. Including that of Grant’s mom.

  The talk at the latest funeral Steve went to was about how the Patriots supposedly took Olympia on New Year’s Day. Steve listened politely and was rooting for the Patriots, if the stories were true. But, Steve hated to admit, he didn’t really care. Whoever sat in some capitol
building 150 miles away in Olympia wouldn’t affect whether people in Forks had enough to eat this winter or could treat a simple cold before it became pneumonia. Governments didn’t really matter anymore in Forks.

  Chapter 313

  Dmitri’s Rules for Gray Manning

  (January 2)

  In west Seattle, Ed Oleo had been staying under the radar all fall. He and Dmitri talked a lot about being a “gray man.” Back in the fall, Dmitri gave Ed a lesson in “gray manning” – lessons Ed was putting into place just before midnight on the day after New Year’s.

  Dmitri was a gold mine of information about how to be a gray man, like he had been in the former Soviet Union. Dmitri’s people had gray manning down to a science, which, in large part, was why the Soviet Union collapsed.

  The first rule of gray manning, Dmitri explained, was to be and remain gray – that is, to blend in and not alert the authorities that you are resisting them. A gray man or woman can’t do the resistance any good if he or she is in jail because he or she decided to spout off about politics or some other waste of time in a repressive regime. “There is no upside and much downside,” Dmitri said, using his favorite American businessman’s phrase, “to openly making political statements” during the Collapse. Several people in TDFs learned this the hard way. Anonymously making political statements, like the “I miss America” graffiti Dmitri and Ed were seeing in Seattle, was a different story, Dmitri explained. “Don’t let the authorities know it is you making the statement,” he would say. “Let them, and especially the general population, think it is everyone making the statement.”