“So where does this guy's allegiance lie? He can’t be a patriot and do what he’s doing."
Scott shrugged. “I'm not sure he has any allegiance, other than to whomever is putting the gold in his pocket on any given day."
Jim nodded slowly, processing all of that information. "Well I don’t give a fuck who he is. Boss needs to die."
Scott couldn't stop an outburst of laughter. "You know how many people probably said that same damn thing? There are dozens of people on every continent who have tried to make that happen yet he’s still out there walking around. If it was that easy he'd be dead already."
"Yeah, I get that but it doesn’t change the fact that he needs to be taken out."
Scott shook his head, incredulous. “Are you dumb or just have a death wish?”
“Neither. I’m a dad. I’m a husband. Sometimes I’m an asshole.”
"You know you’re significantly outmanned and outgunned, right? These are soldiers. They may not be American soldiers but they’re still trained soldiers with weapons and the backing of the U.S. government.”
“They have the backing of this globalist faction that’s trying to pretend they’re the U.S. government,” Jim said. “That doesn’t mean they’re my government. There are times the government doesn’t represent the people or their best interests. This is one of them.”
“Look, I’m not saying I disagree with you,” Scott said. “I’m just saying you can’t butt heads with this guy and come out of it. This dude could come through here and kill every man, woman, and child, and no one could lay a finger on him.”
Jim shook his head bitterly. This pissed him off on all levels. He hated bullies. "What about these people that are backing you? Where are they in all of this? Why can’t they just launch a drone strike on the power plants and take that asshole out?"
"I don’t think that will happen. As ridiculous as this may sound, they're trying to do this without it turning into full-out civil war. It’s on the cusp of happening, but it won’t be good for anyone. Right now this is just a political battle and they’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“It’s not just political here,” Jim spat. “They hung these men and cut off their hands.”
“Yeah, but it’s political in the beltway. Even if those guys are operating under generator power in lockdown conditions, it’s still D.C. I’m not sure they get all the details of what’s happening in the field. Then there’s the concern over the infrastructure.”
“What?”
“The infrastructure. The plants. I think they want to protect the plants.”
Jim was floored. “So they won’t take him out if they think there’s a risk of damaging the plants?”
Scott nodded.
“I don’t give a fuck about power plants,” Jim said. “I would take them out tomorrow if I could send that asshole up with them.”
“Think about what you’re saying,” Scott warned. “How long do you think it will be before any more power plants are built? If you destroy a plant, it could be a decade before power is restored here.”
Jim mulled that over. “So if I opt for the convenience of power, then I have to give up everything else? Self-respect, security, and freedom?”
“That’s basically it,” Scott said.
“That’s no fucking choice,” Jim said.
Scott stood. “It’s a bitter pill. Just don’t do anything rash. The effects can be far-reaching and they don’t only impact you.”
Jim didn’t respond. He was looking off toward the orange sky of late evening, thinking.
“The announcement is supposed to start running tonight,” Scott said. “That’s what they told us when we radioed for the supply drop. Six PM, just like the evening news. You should try to listen.”
“We’ll see,” Jim said, starting back up the steps.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Scott said, heading across the yard.
“Scott!” Jim called from the porch. “You’ve never said where your allegiances lie. What do you choose? Is it freedom or security? I mean, you’re here representing someone who has different interests than whoever is taking over the plants you’re trying to talk me out of destroying.”
Scott stopped and turned back to Jim. “I never said I was against destroying the plant. I just want to make sure you fully understand the ramifications. Besides, it’s not like you have artillery at your disposal, and that’s about what it would take.”
Jim considered what he said, then went back inside. He returned to the living room where he found Kyle bandaged up and dressed. He was warming himself by the fire and discussing the logistics of restarting a coal-fired power plant with Pops.
"There's so many moving parts to a coal plant," Kyle said. "You have to have coal trucks, drivers, fuel for the coal trucks, and a system for getting the coal from the trucks into the plants. That usually involves more men and more machines."
"They should have gone hydroelectric like everybody else was doing," Pops said. "But all the talk around here was about coal jobs and what those jobs would do for the region. They were right. Those coal jobs did prop up the economy for several years. It wasn’t all to support our power plants, of course, but those plants helped."
"Did they ever seriously consider hydroelectric power?" Jim asked.
"Sure," Pops said. "At one time they talked about putting in a pump station where water would be pumped up to Hidden Valley Lake at night when demand was low and then run down through a hydroelectric plant during the day when the demand was higher. Local residents threw a fit about that and it died on the vine."
“What about a dam and a lake?" Jim asked. "It would've been nice to have grown up with a lake around."
"Oh, they talked about that, back in the 1950s and 1960s. They even did a big study about how they could dam the Clinch River. They looked at who would be flooded and how big the lake would be and all that. Those plans got scuttled because it would take away coal jobs."
"Where were they going to build the dam?" Kyle asked.
Pops pointed like that would instantly explain where they were talking about. “There’s a gorge down in Wise County where the river goes through a narrow channel. The plan was to put a dam in there. The whole area where the power plant is now as well as the surrounding towns would be on the bottom of a lake."
With those words, an idea struck Jim with such ferocity it was like an explosion took place in his head. It was a staggering aneurism of awareness. He suddenly knew how to make a lot of things happen, but he would need some help.
JIM SENT Pete and Charlie around to let the families of the valley know about the announcement on the radio. They carried handwritten invitations put together by Ellen and Ariel. It was probably the biggest social gathering in the valley since the terror attacks took place. Certainly since winter arrived, people were getting out less. They were all invited to come to Jim’s barn and listen together with the others if they were interested. Jim had a fire pit at the barn and an old pot-bellied stove inside that would provide a little heat for people standing close to them.
Jim wasn’t sure what other families knew and he wanted to gauge their reactions to the idea of comfort camps. He wanted them to know what happened to Kyle and his crew though. He wanted their support in coming up with a plan to deal with these invaders. He hoped to find a way to help them decide that occupying this region of the Appalachian Mountains was not worth it.
Kyle was bandaged up and dressed but accepted Jim’s offer to stay long enough to listen to the broadcast with them.
“After that, I’ve got to get on home,” he said.
“That’s no problem,” Jim said. “I’ll either send someone with you or I’ll go myself.”
“That ain’t necessary,” Kyle protested. “I can bring the horse back tomorrow.”
“It’s not about the horse. It’s about getting you home in one piece.”
“I appreciate that, my friend.”
Jim shrugged. “Not a problem. You sit down and
take it easy until then. Stay close to the fire and rest.”
“That ain’t easy for me to do. I’m a doer not a rester.”
With Kyle situated, Randi returned home to check on her family while Hugh and Jim made preparations for the event at the barn. Jim found a couple of radios that had emergency bands on them. Hugh verified they all had signal from the barn.
They started a fire. Having a nice bed of coal by the time guests started showing up would help keep everyone warm. Jim kept a pile of bonfire wood beside the log yard where he split firewood. The bonfire wood was those pieces that were difficult to split by hand. When he had a gas-powered hydraulic log splitter he could split about anything. That was not the case now. Pieces of wood with twisty grains were a waste of energy when they failed to split after several blows of the maul. He tossed those aside for outdoor fires.
Hugh, never one to miss an opportunity to hone his bushcraft skills, whipped out his fire-making kit and went to work. In a short time, he had a strong fire going from a ferro rod and Vaseline-soaked cotton balls. He added kindling that Jim stored in an old camper top sitting on four cinder blocks, then bigger wood stored beneath ratty, frayed tarps.
It wasn’t long before Lloyd showed up. Randi, who had left to visit her family, somehow mysteriously arrived at the same time. Lloyd was dressed in a vintage German officer’s coat that came down to his ankles and carried his banjo slung around his back on a length of brown twine. He had on a furry trapper’s hat and looked like someone that might stagger into a remote Alaskan village demanding a shot of vodka. Lloyd took a seat on a maple stump by the fire and removed two jars from beneath his coat. Despite the clarity, Jim suspected it was not water.
Lloyd made small talk for a few minutes then was drawn into the strings of his banjo. His playing had comprised the background of so many social gatherings since his arrival in the valley. It harkened back to a time before radio, before television, and before constant noise.
After Lloyd, more showed up. All of the Wimmers, except for the children and one adult left to watch them, came in a line that stretched off into the darkness of the night. Gary and his family came. The Weathermans, the Birds, Randi’s daughters, and all the generations of Jim’s people.
They talked and stood close to a bonfire that burned twice the height of a man. Inside the barn, the pot-bellied stove glowed cherry-red and the older folks sat around it in the odd assortment of chairs that found their way to the barn. Hugh lingered on the fringes of the crowd, listening to the radio and waiting for the announcement they’d been told to expect.
Then it came.
“Hey! Pipe down!” Hugh bellowed.
He cranked the radio volume up, then ran into the barn and did the same, letting them know the announcement they’d been waiting for was starting.
All sound fell away except for the crackling of the fire. The voice that came over the radio was a generic announcer’s voice, not immediately recognizable as anyone in particular. Not a celebrity, not a government official. The voice conveyed reassurance and unquestionable honesty. It was a voice you could not help but believe.
Unless you knew the truth behind those words.
Jim wondered how many people would listen with unconditional trust and comply with every element of the government’s demands. The answer to that question could well determine the fate of the Republic.
“…comfort, safety, and security of our citizens is the primary concern of the United States government. Over the last several months, diligent efforts have been underway to restore power. Multidisciplinary teams have been working to troubleshoot the electrical infrastructure, get power plants up and running, and determine the most efficient manner in which to distribute electrical power to the citizens of the United States of America.
“Unfortunately, restoration of power is not so simple as just flipping a switch and sending power back to all the areas that previously had power. It has been determined recovery shall take place in the following manner. Power will initially be restored to specific facilities and institutions which are determined to be critical to the recovery effort. Reestablishment teams have also been hard at work building comfort camps in regions throughout the country. Beginning tomorrow, maps, flyers, and leaflets will be distributed in the county seat of all counties affected by this disaster. Those leaflets will explain the details of what a comfort camp is, will include directions to your regional comfort camp, and will include instructions for admission.
“Please be aware that the primary criteria for admission into any comfort camp is the surrendering of any and all firearms possessed by the person seeking entry into the camp. Federal and retail databases will be checked by Recovery Team personnel to ensure the honest compliance of each citizen seeking entry. For the safety of individuals residing in comfort camps, these facilities will be isolated from any outside interaction. Once you have entered the camp, you will not be allowed to leave unless you choose to do so permanently. There will also be no visitation between the residents of comfort camps and those residing outside in the community at large.”
The announcer’s voice took on a placating tone. “You can be assured that there is no state of martial law, nor is this an effort to take away your Second Amendment rights. The voluntary surrendering of personal firearms is simply an attempt to quell the widespread violence that has been taking place since the initial terror attacks occurred. The only way the United States can move safely forward is to get a handle on violence and make this country safe again.
“American citizens should know that distribution of the written materials about comfort camps is such a vast effort that it could not be conducted alone by U.S. forces. A NATO relief effort is currently being undertaken in the United States to assist us with national recovery. Foreign troops should be afforded the same respect and authority as American troops. Should persons fail to comply with this directive, please understand that NATO troops have the authority to arrest or kill to carry out their mission."
25
Before the gathering at the barn even wore down, Jim built a fire in the stove of his woodshop and threw together an impromptu table out of sawhorses and plywood. As people began to wander off, Jim spoke to a few to gauge their reaction to the announcement. He’d been with these folks long enough to think he knew how they would respond but you could never be certain. Like with his own mother, there were people who would choose the comfort and ease of a life with electricity to the alternative. Jim had no name for that alternative originally but had decided that very night to refer to it as dark freedom. It was the choice to keep your rights in exchange for not receiving electrical power. He was comfortable with the choice.
Jim invited Scott, Hugh, Ford, Randi, and Gary to stay for a discussion in the woodshop. Kyle stayed for the announcement but was clearly exhausted. Jim tried to send him home several times but he didn’t want to go until he heard the discussion that was going to take place. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted revenge.
Weatherman and Bird were also recruited, simply for the purpose of discussing the plan. If they heard it and wanted out, they were free to go with no judgment and no hard feelings. The shop was toasty warm by the time everyone gathered there, taking whatever seats they could find. Despite the long day, Jim was too amped-up to sit.
He spread out a regional map on the plywood table and set a heavy structural steel bolt down on each corner to hold it flat. “First, I just want to know how many of you think that government announcement was bullshit?” he asked. “I can understand the need to prioritize power restoration as part of a national recovery effort but what I cannot abide is tying power restoration to disarming the population. This goes way beyond turning the lights back on.”
It was clear there was a consensus in the room, giving Jim the impetus to proceed.
“Then I want you all to hear an idea. I know it’s probably bat-shit crazy, but I need you to listen. There’s a whole multitude of reasons why we need those people occupying the
power plant out of here. It’s not just what they did to Kyle’s crew. If they’re that kind of people, we don’t need them here. We either need to make them leave and not want to come back, or we need to kill as much of the crew as we can so they can’t come back.”
Jim let that last part sink in. This would be an ugly job, however it went down. There would be killing, and likely death, on both sides of the fence.
“I've been trying to think of a way we could run them out of here without putting ourselves at risk. The last thing I want is to bring any more pain and destruction into this valley. These guys are seriously armed so we can’t go toe-to-toe with them in battle. We’re not trained or armed for that and they are. We can outsmart them, and I think I may have come up with the way to do it."
Jim looked around for comments or questions, finding none. They were intently listening, wanting to know what he had up his sleeve. He nodded in Kyle's direction.
"For those of you who don't know, that's my friend Kyle. He and I went to high school together and he worked for the power company. Once we learned that this team of people at the plants was going to turn the power back on and send it upstream to Washington, D.C., he and I discussed trying to get the grid back up for our own community. We had an idea that we might be able to tap into the grid and intercept power in a way that they wouldn’t be able to detect. Somehow these people intercepted Kyle and his crew today. They killed his entire crew, then hung and mutilated their bodies. They left Kyle alive to tell what happened.”
Jim could tell that Weatherman and Bird had not heard this story from the looks on their faces. They were clearly shocked and appalled.
“After you left my house earlier, Scott, I walked in on a conversation between Kyle and my dad. They were talking about different types of power plants and why we had coal over hydroelectric here in our region. My dad mentioned that there had once been a plan to create a dam in Wise County and flood sections of our region to form a lake. He mentioned that if this had taken place, the entire area where the power plant is now would be underwater.
Switched On: Book Six in The Borrowed World Series Page 23
