Food and lead (bullets) were more precious than gold and silver by far. Most who remained in the gym had been wealthy by the standard of gold and silver but had become impoverished overnight. The rancher and the farmer, whose hands were stained by the dirt of the earth, had just as quickly become wealthy.
The bleachers were still eighty percent full and I made another pitch, “Any of you who are still here and believe in what I have said; if you believe in freedom and are willing to fight for it, there will be farmers and ranchers who may be willing to take you in. They may let you join them if you will help them defend their places. If I were you, I would go out and ask them.
Another twenty percent got up and left. The community was divided. I saw husbands leave and wives stay and vice versa. I saw daughters leave and mothers stay. I saw fathers stay and sons leave.
A hard line had just divided us. It split the social community. It split the religious community. It split families. It was the hard line of freedom. The words of one of their Mormon prophets came to mind.
The fight for freedom is God’s fight … When a man stands for freedom he stands for God. As long as he stands for freedom he stands with God. And were he to stand alone he would still stand with God … Any man will be eternally vindicated and rewarded for his stand for freedom.
I had taken comfort in the words of Ezra Taft Benson, as I often felt alone in my views on freedom. Those who remained in the gym were angry. For the more part they were decent people. I knew most all of them. We had sat together in this very gym over the years, cheering our children as they played basketball. We had laughed at the school plays they had put on. Then we shed tears of joy as we watched them graduate.
Now this building was filled with anger, fear, and desperation. That blend of emotions would soon turn to hate. It would turn to hate because they had children and loved ones that were hungry and those who had walked out controlled the food production in the valley. Those that had walked out were violating the laws of the land, the laws that required that food resources be managed for the good of the whole. They would tell themselves that if it were not for the selfishness of those that had plenty, their children would not be hungry.
The bands that held us together as neighbors were cut asunder. I knew that the budding hate would turn into bloodshed. Even though many would know in their heart of hearts that it would be wrong, they would justify themselves in taking by force what they needed to stay alive. History would repeat itself yet again.
I started to back out of the gym and I now let my barrel point directly at Zackary. He never blinked and he was not intimidated. He was dangerous.
Outside, the light of the sun was refreshing. Bill, the old bishop, was organizing things. People respected him, not because he was a bishop, but because he was a good man. He had spent his life farming in this valley. He was known as an honest, hardworking farmer. Half of his congregation was still inside the gym. They now saw him as a traitor to the government, an enemy of the people.
The people outside were quickly forming into groups around the ranchers and farmers. They understood that all the little farms and ranches spread up the long valley would be raided by those that were starving. It had already been happening, even before the town council had tried to centralize and legitimize the looting.
Sandy and Cat were sitting on their horses at the end of the parking lot. Cat was holding the reins of my horse and when she saw me they both rode over. I stepped into the saddle and rode to where Bill was talking to a group of people.
“Bill,” I called to him and he came over. “Bill, you’ve always been a good friend to the Bonhams and people trust you. I want to help my neighbors all I can, that is, if I am free to make that choice. The moment anyone demands that I give up my cows they may have them only after I have burnt my powder and the earth has drunk my blood.”
Looking up at me on my horse, Bill smiled at me, “You’re just like your father, quiet, but full of spit and fire once pushed.”
Looking at the fresh stitches across my cheek he smiled again, “Did some lady try giving you a shave with a straight razor?” he asked jokingly.
Sandy was sitting on her horse beside me and I did not know that an Indian could blush but she did. How did old Bill know what had happened? He had a good sense of humor but now he got serious.
“Jake, there are a lot of good people left in that building and I want to help them if I can.”
“I haven’t had a chance to check my herd,” I said, “but they should have calved out about 180 calves. This fall when I wean them I’ll bring you all but 40 of them.”
“That’s real neighborly of you, Jake but fall is a long way from here. Most people only had a two week supply of food on hand when things went over the ledge. There are a lot of hungry people and it is getting worse fast.”
“I’m not going to have people eat my mother head, Bill. Everyone thinks that things will get back to normal soon. It won’t. This is going to be a long hard haul; it’s going to take years. If we eat my mother head there’ll be no calves the next year. I will tell you what I’ll do. I have twenty yearling heifers that I was going to use to replace some of my older cows. I will bring you ten of them and ten of the old cows.”
“That will help Jake, I appreciate it.”
I sat there a moment longer. I wanted to ask him about Zackary, his son. It was a tender subject with the old man. To so many in southern Utah, Zackary was a hero but, here and now, father and son stood on opposite sides of an invisible line. There was nothing that I could say that would help so I bid Bill goodbye and rode away.
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1. Contract armies or mercenaries, known as PMC, private military company or PMF, private military firm, is increasingly being used by our government, Blackwater being one of the most noted. They are not subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice. According to a 2008 study by the Office of the Director of National Intelligence, private contractors made up 29% of the United States Intelligence Community.
2. When the Mormons migrated to the West in the 1800s they sought to set up a communal system where a man gave all his surplus into the hands of the Bishop to be given to those in need. It was called the “United Order.” The major difference between the United Order and Communism is under the United Order a person was free to participate or not. Communism is enforced at the point of a gun.
3. “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need” is a slogan first used by Lois Blanc in 1851 and made popular by Karl Marx as he promoted Socialism.
4. In 1958 when Chairman Mao Zedong implemented his “Great Leap Forward” over 45 million died in a four year span under communism.
5. In March 16, 2012, President Obama signed executive order 13603 called the “National Defense Resources Preparedness.” This order give the government the authority to seize any and all resources they deem needed in an emergency.
6. Glock 40. A semi-automatic pistol that shoots the 40 S&W. The cartridge is a very high pressure round at 35,000 psi. If the ball of the cartridge is pushed into the casing even one tenth of an inch it can double the pressure and lead to the firearm blowing up. I recommend the 45 auto over the 40 S&W.
Chapter 19
LONG VALLEY
The little towns of Mount Carmel, Orderville, and Glendale make up what is known as Long Valley. Mount Carmel sits at the gateway to the long fertile valley that is filled with farms, orchards, and livestock. In the West, growing crops depended upon irrigation. These small towns were pioneer towns and all their irrigation was gravity fed by the small river that flowed down the valley. They needed no electricity to produce food. This place could easily feed itself. In today’s world, it was now a paradise.
The narrow valley ran north and south for more than 20 miles. It was flanked on the east and west by mountains. The Bonham ranch was on the east side of the valley on top of what is called the Glendale Bench. A sheer sandstone ledge eight to nine-hundred feet high forms the
rim of the bench. It runs the length of the valley and then turns eastward for another 40 miles. It is like a mighty castle wall with limited access to its top. That natural formation made it much easier for the Bonhams to protect their cattle from foragers and marauding bands.
Highway 89 and the Virgin River runs the length of the valley. At the south end of the valley the river turns west and drops into the canyon gorge that became Zion National Park. It was rugged country and the only easy way to enter the valley coming from the large community of Kanab was on Highway 89.
Long Valley is the bread basket that could keep Kanab alive.
Chapter 20
ZACKARY WILLIAMS
Of food and women, a man needed only so much, but of power, of power a man could never have too much.
—Zackary Williams
March 4th
Zackary Williams rested his foot upon the short parapet wall that ran along the top of the flat roof of the two-story building on the corner of Main and Center of the town of Kanab, Utah, Small Town, USA. This town was stereotypical of the ones found in the country music genre that he detested. Like so many of them, its main street was fronted by old red brick buildings. The bottom floors were store fronts and the top floors were office spaces. They all had large windows that permitted generous amounts of natural light. Above all the office doors upstairs there were glass windows that could be opened to allowed air flow throughout the building. The old designs had purpose and function which Zackary had previously taken into account.
It was a cold morning and he held a hot cup of coffee in his hand. He had just finished a full breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast prepared by his personal cook and attendant, a young lady who did his bidding in exchange for food and shelter. One of the offices at the back of the building was converted to a kitchen. Commandeered propane tanks provided hot water and cooking. He was a man who could handle the severest of conditions and hardships when circumstances demanded it, but when he had choice, he loved to partake in the spoils of the victor.
The largest office that overlooked Main Street was now his living space. It was well furnished with the best of furniture and carpet that he had taken from wherever he wanted. The office next to it was his comm room. Here he had military ham radio communication equipment. The EMP blast that was part of the nuclear attacks had knocked out 99% of all communications in the country. The military and the “right ones” had hardened communication systems. This was priceless. He knew how the furious battles that the Armed Services were waging in the Atlantic and Pacific were progressing. Besides that, each day he had communications with the other DHS agents he had strategically placed in key sections of the western part of the country. The Department of Homeland Security was just the current agency which he now operated under but it was only a temporary stay. This agency was just one of many interconnecting pieces of a puzzle that was being put together. Those that were putting it together were the ones that Zackary really worked for.
Zackary had been one of those who had determined what agents and resources would be used and where they would be placed. He was not the regional commander for the Department of Homeland Security but it had been made clear to the commander that Zackary was to be given whatever he asked for, no questions asked.
In amusement, he had watched DHS waste resources in the large cities with the foolish notion that they would be able to maintain control there. As the dollar had declined and the economy started to collapse, they had some degree of success, but after the nuclear strike, they didn’t stand a chance. The people were like thousands of little ants on a large grasshopper. DHS was overwhelmed in the urban areas.
The chill of the morning was invigorating to him. He had, as yet, to put on his dress uniform shirt and stood in his tee shirt, enjoying his coffee. He was a man physically in his prime and his green tee shirt stretched over his ripped muscles. His dark brown hair was trimmed tight and his face clean shaven. Nature had blessed him with a face, body and mind of a god. His mind meticulously reviewed how much of the plan had been completed and the next steps that were to be taken while he was still here.
It had been 35 days ago, on the morning of January 27th that Zackary had awakend to a world that he knew was coming. He did not know when it would arrive, but he had known that it was imminent. There were those that had known the 27th of January would be the day of the nuclear strike but that international intrigue was beyond the reach of his intel gathering abilities. That was okay, he had known enough.
People of power had come to know that Zackary Williams could get a job done. Whether on a football field or running black ops, he was about results at any cost. It was his commitment to results that caught the attention of the ”powers that be.”1 Those that wielded the real power for years in this country were not the elected officials. The people that controlled the real power operated behind the scenes and were largely unknown to the public. They were the ones which sought to control which candidates were put forth in both parties and they funded the campaigns on both sides of the isle. For more than a hundred years, through the manipulation of currencies, they had been laying the groundwork which undercut the sovereignty of the States and abridged the freedom of the people. Through policies of spending and debt, they had weakened the nation in preparation for a fundamental transformation.
To complete this transformation, they knew that it would require violent force to subjugate a remnant of Americans that would not bow down and submit. As a President had put it, these Americans would “bitterly cling to their God and guns.”2 For that reason this Society recruited men like Zackary Williams. But like so many others, they too underestimated Zackary ’s mental abilities and ambition.
No one, but a few from his youth, even knew that Zackary Williams had a photographic memory. That ability, along with so many other things, he kept concealed. With a passion he had studied the history of power from the days of Cain and Abel to the present. He could quote all the dates and events of the rise and fall of all recorded empires. More than that, he studied the people and reasons behind those successes and failures. He had studied the history of the mafia and organized crime. He knew the history of money and studied the world of finances. From the beginning of the Rothschild family in the 1700s, to JP Morgan in the 1800s, to the current power structure of the world banks, Zackary Williams knew their history. He knew their history and he knew some of the living power brokers personally.
Knowledge was power only when that knowledge was applied. He had spent a life of gaining and applying knowledge to achieve his desires for power. Coupled with his natural ability to lead was his willingness to use violence to achieve his objectives. If a man with ability could free himself from moral restraints, he could achieve great things. Under the cloak of secrecy, he had sold his skills. He had been used to eliminate key people that stood in the way of this Society, a secret Society that sought to remold the world.3 He had participated in this intrigue both nationally and internationally.
It was these dark connections that had brought him into the Department of Homeland Security. This department was a useful and needed tool to accomplish this re-engineering. It was needed for the final and greatest obstacle of the conspiracy. That obstacle was the American people themselves.
Zackary Williams had become a key player in the actual implementation of this daring conspiracy. Zackary had contempt for the simple fools of this country but he also had contempt for many of those above him in the power structure. From their ivory towers they schemed and pulled the levers of finance and politics. Through the derivatives market and dark pools of sovereign wealth from other countries, they controlled the flow of trillions of dollars. This made them think they were invincible. But they were invincible only because they could purchase the service of men like Zackary Williams. He was in their service and was one of their front men in seizing control of power producing resources, but he did not intend to ever remain their servant.
Through spending and borrowing, nations of the earth b
ecame slaves to their debt. These massive amounts of debt had become impossible for countries to ever repay. It was not intended to ever be paid off. The crushing weight it created was designed to foment civil strife and war. It was out of that planned chaos that this daring Society sought to grab and consolidate great power. To them, Zackary Williams was nothing more than a powerful sword to be used in helping them accomplish their end. But Zackary ’s sword had a double edge.
It was easy for him to see where people were in their understanding. The “foolish” put their trust in currencies, stocks, bonds, etc. “The wise” did not trust those forms of wealth, but did use them to their advantage. This class back stopped their wealth with precious metals such as gold and silver. The “wiser” used all those channels of wealth, but understood that the production of food and energy trumped them all when economies collapsed. The “wisest” knew that the production of food and energy was king only when you could control and defend it.
Zackary Williams considered himself very wise.
DHS had been preparing for civil unrest from its conception. The amount of arms and ammunitions that it purchased were in some areas equal to the military.4 For years they had been pre-positioning assets throughout the country.5
With some of the drones in DHS wasting resources in the large urban areas, Zackary made sure that the best resources went to the right places. He was always in the right place at the right time. The world was in the process of great change and he was going to take advantage of it. In large cities the majority of people would be beyond the control of any organization once hunger kicked in. He had written off the eastern part of the United States and the West Coast. All large urban centers, likewise, were avoided.
Only by Blood and Suffering: Regaining Lost Freedom Page 14
