Rows of rifles were neatly hung across the entire left wall, while individual boxes of various handguns were stored in a shelf just below that wall, and below that shelf was another shelf that contained boxes and boxes of corresponding ammunition. There were easily fifty different firearms in the room.
On the floor were four brand new coal generators as well as an entire oil extracting unit and next to that was a miniature refinery system capable of producing a hundred gallons of gasoline fuel per day. Reese spotted several handheld short wave transmission devices.
“Those transmitters – that’s top of the line and their brand new. New production which hasn’t been allowed for years. How did you get those?”
Cooper Wyse shrugged.
“Figured you would like those, Reese. Thing is, there’s anything and everything out there somewhere. Just need to know how and where to look. The New United Nations has tried to wipe out the free market, but it hasn’t done it. Not yet.”
Mac was looking over the guns on the walls when his attention was diverted to something on the floor just below those guns.
“What the hell, Coop – is this what it looks like?”
Without even looking to see what Mac was referring to Cooper replied.
“Yup. Hardly used. The technology came all the way from Russia. They had a program for years developing it. Then it was defunded. At least that’s what they said. Made thousands of them which have been sold off over the years. I got that one there just a few months ago.”
Mac looked to back to Cooper Wyse, his eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning.
“May I?”
Cooper nodded.
Mac carefully picked up a small rifle-like weapon that hung by itself on a four foot high rack. It looked somewhat like a toy gun, with a rather clumsy box like device that was attached to the lower portion of the barrel.
Mac let out a long slow whistle.
“Heard about these things man, had to be about thirty years ago. Old Soviet technology. They were trying to keep up with our missile defense stuff. The Chinese did some work on this as well. A laser gun with a computerized scope. Accurate within an inch of the target up to a mile away. One clean little laser beam that can rip through a half inch of steel.”
Mackenzie Walker looked over the laser rifle more closely, his fingers running along its smooth, dull black finish.
“No serial number? Who made this? You said it was from Russia?”
Cooper shook his head.
“No, I said the technology was from Russia. That weapon there was made by a guy in Canada. Same one who made those short wave handhelds. Like I said, if enough people want something, someone else will find a way to provide it. Around here, I just happen to be that someone.”
“Does it work?”
Cooper appeared almost offended by Mac’s question.
“Yeah, works just fine. Only holds eight shots per box though. The thing they are best for, so I’m told…is against the drones. They’ve been running a bunch of these down to the Texas Resistance. Government ain’t letting the people know, but the way I hear it, the Resistance has shot at least twenty drones down with those things.”
Bear grunted dismissively.
“Hell, Mac shot down that much himself up in Dominatus. Didn’t you, Mac?”
Mac seemed lost inside the faint metallic glow of the laser gun.
“Yeah, suppose I did.”
Dublin had made her way to the back right corner of the room where a vast array of neatly labeled and boxed fruits and vegetable seeds were stacked. She leaned down to better read the labels.
“There must be nearly a hundred different types of seeds here, and thousands and thousands of seeds. Why so many, Mr. Wyse?”
“Call me Coop, everyone does. Lots of people out there wanting to start up their own food gardens. And after Alaska threw out the New United Nations, getting access to good quality seeds got a lot tougher. Government is closing down the food shipments, hoping they can starve the people back into compliance. So I’ve been doing my part to make sure that don’t happen. These packets are delivered all over the state. I heard you were something of a green thumb there, Dublin – that right?”
Dublin stood back up and smiled at the compliment.
“I enjoy it, getting them started, keeping them healthy, and then harvesting and sharing with others. I had a nice greenhouse in Dominatus - I miss it.”
Reese interjected.
“So, we leave tomorrow then? That’s the plan?”
Mac looked up from the laser gun and nodded.
“Yeah, that’s the plan. What time you want to head out, Coop?”
“I’ve been tracking the surveillance drones carefully for months now. They go in ninety minute intervals around here, right over the hills behind us. That gives us a decent window to get across the border and well into Canada without them knowing.”
Bear remained uncertain over the use of horses for the trip.
“Now explain to me again why we aren’t just shooting across the border in a vehicle? Seems like we could make the trip a whole lot faster and to be honest, I haven’t done much horse riding.”
Mac clapped Bear’s shoulder and laughed.
“As big as you are, I feel more sorry for the horse!”
Cooper Wyse ignored Mac’s joke and responded to Bear.
“Like I said, anything mechanical sets off something in the drones’ surveillance system. Seen it happen more than enough to know we don’t want to risk it. I started out riding an old Yamaha 100 through a dried out riverbed to get across into Canada. Every time there’d be a drone making its way right for me within ten minutes and within another twenty minutes there’d be another two or three of those things circling the sky. First time I used a horse, nothing like that happened. Don’t know if it’s the sound, the exhaust emissions…whatever it is, it’s just not worth it. They’ll find us too fast, and we won’t make it. Best chance we got of getting across without them knowing it is on horseback, same way I’ve been doing it for the past several years.”
Mac let out a series of sharp coughs, bending over slightly as he cleared his throat.
“Sorry about that, think I might have a bit of hay fever or something.”
Dublin looked over at Reese, her eyes communicating she thought something wasn’t quite right with her longtime family friend. Having spent so many years with her elderly grandfather before he finally passed, she knew the difference between a normal cough and one that hinted at something potentially more serious.
Dublin began to make her way toward Mac but was waved off.
“Said I’m fine, Dublin. Hoping to get something to eat in fact. Feels like dinner time to me. Hey now, Coop, how about it? You got some grub inside that place of yours?”
Cooper Wyse’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked Mac over before answering.
“Yeah, everyone follow me inside the house. Plenty of food and drink. Probably be a good idea to enjoy a real meal before we head out tomorrow morning. Might be the last one we get for a spell.”
V.
The interior of the Wyse home was far more luxurious and spacious than the outside indicated. The entrance hallway was covered with family photos, some of them clearly a hundred or more years old and each wall of the hallway offered two matching dark leather sofas. The home’s flooring was a richly textured hard wood, similar in color to the sofas. As the hallway opened to the main room of the house, a massive river rock fireplace extended itself upwards toward the cathedral ceiling.
Like the hallway, the main room’s furnishings were of the same dark leather exterior, accompanied by end tables that appeared to have been formed from tree trunks, and a massive coffee table that closely resembled the river rock fireplace with the exception of its clear, one-inch thick glass top. At one end of this room there was a well appointed kitchen with matching stainless appliances, while the other end of the room gave a glimpse of a long hallway that likely led to the home’s bedrooms
.
Cooper’s home smelled of wood and leather, with just a hint of tobacco – a scent that managed to be both masculine and inviting.
“So this is my family’s home. We’ve lived here for two generations. I was born in this house and God willing, I’ll die here too.”
Reese, like the others, was impressed.
“Very nice home, Mr. Wyse. I assume your family built it themselves?”
Cooper Wyse nodded.
“Yes, my grandfather and grandmother did most of it. My dad did that fireplace and the flooring, and my wife, she uh…she updated the kitchen a couple years before…before Grant County. Before I lost her. Her and the kids. That’s them above the mantel.”
A dozen or so photos sat atop the large wood fireplace mantel. In the middle was a much younger looking Cooper Wyse standing next to a tall and very attractive blonde haired woman. Even from a distance the photo showed her striking blue eyes looking out just above prominent cheekbones and full red lips. She would have seemed at home on the red carpet of Old Hollywood as much as next to the horse trainer she took for her husband.
Several more photos depicted the former Wyse family throughout the years. First a young son who closely resembled his mother, and a daughter who in turn took after her father Cooper. In each photo they appeared quite content, every bit the loving American family.
Dublin was paying particular attention to the photos, before finally turning back to Cooper.
“They’re all so beautiful, Mr. Wyse. I’m very sorry for your loss. It must have been difficult for you.”
Cooper Wyse looked away for a brief moment before responding to Dublin.
“Yeah.”
Silence hung between Cooper and his guests for nearly a minute until Mac changed the subject.
“So how about that meal you promised, Coop?”
Dublin took a step toward the kitchen while holding up her hands to the men.
“I’ll take care of that, you boys sit down and relax. Mr. Wyse, is it ok with you if I prepare dinner for us?”
Cooper’s mind still appeared to be drifting back to the memories of his wife and children.
“Mr. Wyse, is that ok?”
Dublin’s question hung in the air unanswered.
“Mr. Wyse?”
Finally Cooper replied.
“That would be great, Dublin, thank you. Haven’t had someone do the cooking around here for…for a long time now. Not much left in there as I knew I might be gone for a spell, but what’s left you’re welcome to make something of it.”
Dublin’s head disappeared inside the fridge momentarily before turning back around to ask Cooper another question.
“You have any vegetables, Mr. Wyse?”
Cooper gave a small smile and shrugged.
“Vegetables…sure, there’s some big steaks in there. Took ‘em out of the freezer just a couple days ago.”
Dublin looked confused.
“No, I said vegetables, Mr. Wyse. Not steaks. Do you have any vegetables?”
Cooper Wyse nodded.
“That’s right. The critters eat the vegetables. I eat the critters. So I figure that’s a two for one, right? Get your vegetables and your protein, all in one bite.”
Dublin’s face contorted into further confusion as Bear let out a booming laugh, his hand smacking down onto the top of his thigh. His reaction was soon accompanied by more laughter from Reese and Mac.
Bear pointed toward Cooper.
“I think I might get to like you, Coop. Two for one!”
Brando, who was seated next to Cooper, looked at the three other men laughing and then laid down on the floor and rested his head on his front paws, indicating he held little current interest in the jokes of humans.
Dublin rolled her eyes before taking the steaks from the fridge and placing them onto the countertop next to the stove.
“Sorry, Dublin, old cowboy humor. Look in the pantry at the far end of the kitchen there. Should find some potatoes, spices, whatever you can find, feel free to use. The stove is propane – self ignites. Turn it on and have at it.”
Cooper Wyse then motioned to the others to sit down.
“I have some home brew beer – you boys want to try it?”
Mac’s eyes widened at the mention of home brewed beer. For the former Dominatus tavern owner, the topic remained one of great interest to him.
“You brew?”
“Yeah, been doing it for about ten years. Have it set up in the old well house in the back.”
Like Mac, Bear’s enthusiasm revealed itself.
“Steak and beer – now we’re talking!”
Cooper, with Brando following close behind, went back out the front door of the house as the sound and smells of steak hitting a hot frying pan emanated from the kitchen. A few minutes later he returned with a box under his arm, the sound of tinkling bottles accompanying his steps.
The box was placed on the large coffee table and opened up to reveal a dozen plain dark glass bottles. Cooper used a small opener to open a bottle and then pass it to one of his guests until each of the men was seated and holding a sample of his beer.
Mac sniffed deeply from the top of his bottle’s neck and held his breath in for several seconds before exhaling slowly.
“Unfiltered?”
Cooper nodded.
Mac took a small sip and swirled the dark liquid in his mouth.
“Very little carbonation, I like that. Very rich flavors here, Coop. Do you pasteurize?”
Cooper shook his head.
“No, this is very Old World. What my grandparents called “real beer”.
Mac took a larger drink and smiled.
“Very smooth. Has that bitter bite toward the end, but it actually balances out the smoothness. Has a great malt-dominated flavor. This would of been a top seller back in Dominatus.”
For the next ten minutes both men discussed the merits and faults of various methods of brewing. It was clear a bond was being formed between the two oldest members of the group, and the more comfortable Cooper Wyse became, the more willing he was to talk.
Eventually the talk wore on the nerves of Bear, who cut the two men off.
“For the love of God, it’s beer. Don’t sit there analyzing it – drink it!”
With that, Bear finished his bottle and set it down before motioning toward the open box.
“Mind if I have another?”
Reese finished his beer as well and was already reaching into the box to get himself and Bear a second bottle.
Cooper smiled with pride, pleased the men found his beer acceptable.
“I’d take offense if you didn’t, you big bastard.”
Cooper and Mac also opened another bottle.
Dublin called out from the kitchen.
“No hangovers, boys. Don’t forget we’re off to save the world first thing tomorrow morning.”
Cooper Wyse leaned back in his leather chair, his face falling into a melancholy smile.
“Hmmm…been a long time since I heard a woman tell me to watch my drinking. A lifetime ago. I do miss having a pretty lady try and tell me what to do.”
Cooper’s eyes wandered back to the photos on the fireplace mantel as his left hand placed itself gently on Brando’s head. He paused, his emotions tumbling into one another, before he returned his gaze to Reese.
“I listened to your program, Mr. Neeson. The one you gave up there in Dominatus a couple years back. In the cave. I have a little short wave set up in the back bedroom of the house. I sat in there and listened to you tell that story. Mac’s story. Dublin’s story. Her grandfather’s story. Thing is, the names were different. The place. The background. Still…I sat there and listened to you and realized you were telling my story too. My wife and my kids’ story…all the people who I had known and loved and had been so hurt by this global government bullshit. I was one of those ten thousand who made their way up to Dominatus to try and save you. Me and Franklin, the fella you met yesterday in Juneau. Thousan
ds of us just decided enough was enough and we weren’t gonna let them kill all of you trapped up there in that cave.”
The sounds from the kitchen grew quiet as Dublin strained to hear Cooper Wyse tell his own story.
“Thing is, it worked now didn’t it? Once enough people woke up and said enough is enough – why all those New United Nations boys we had running things up here just turned and left. They don’t really believe in what they were part of any more than we did. Hell, half of them stayed behind and promised to fight if the New United Nations came back. I just have to think…if we had woken up sooner. Years before, how many people would have been saved? How many people would have had the chance to live their lives in freedom? But we didn’t. We just kept giving up a little bit of freedom here and a little bit more there until finally, it was pretty much all gone.
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