by Javan Bonds
When he crossed into the yard, the old Jedi had already made his way inside. His father was taking his time getting inside, waiting to speak to Jackson before going through the door. Both men nodded to each other as they reached speaking distance, and Jeff spoke first, with a sad and definite tone. “Well, I guess I’m done with the pawning business.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow at his father. Jeff wasn’t the kind to give up anything easily. “What for?”
Jeff walked with his son to the door and, without looking at him, replied in a lighter voice, “The military took almost everything—well, at least the things I hadn’t already taken myself. And nobody has been there for days.”
Jackson almost laughed. It was just like his dad to blame everything on the government; that was how it had to be.
They made it up the steps of the side door; Jackson cut in front of his father to hold the screen door and pushed the house door open. “Mr. Kennard is already here—”
His father interrupted with his acknowledgment. “Uh-huh.”
Jackson continued, “And he’s got rabbits!”
Jeff Pike entered the dining room on the heels of his son and could smell fresh spices. Mr. Kennard and Denise were already seasoning the meat and getting ready to cook as the two Pike men propped on the dining-room side of the bar to breathe in the aroma. Jeff watched until he caught the eye of his wife and said with a sarcastic smile, “Just like it should be: I come home, and you’re already getting supper ready.”
His wife returned the smile and said in mock scorn, “You better watch it, Jefferson Pike, or you won’t be getting any!”
Jackson knew his parents were just joking and had seen this throughout his life, but he barely contained his inner teenager from pointing and laughing when his mother said “getting any.” He knew what she meant, and his parents would not see the humor in it. Jackson set the boot box on the stool beside him as Denise turned back to the sink, where Mr. Kennard was putting the final touches on their masterpiece. She said loudly to the men at the bar, “Supper will be ready in about thirty minutes!”
Jeff asked, “So where’s this person?”
Denise gestured with a hand holding a pepper shaker. “Oh, he’s right in there.”
Jeff was already moving to the living room as she spoke, and his son picked up the box and decided to follow. The two men went into the room, and Jeff stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was waiting. “Hollis! How the hell did you get here?”
Denise yelled from the kitchen, “Jefferson Pike, watch your mouth.”
“Sorry, dear,” he replied. Then he turned to Hollis and said, “Well, this is a pleasant unexpected visitor. So tell me about your journey home.”
All three exchanged handshakes before Jeff claimed his recliner, and the other two sat on the couch, where Jackson laid the box between them.
“What’s that?” Hollis asked, gesturing to the box. “What’s in there?”
Without turning his head to look at the box or his cousin, Jackson said simply, “Shoes.”
Shoes? Hollis had never seen a shoebox as big as this one, and he was about to ask about the size but stopped as he decided it must be cowboy boots. He had never owned a pair and was a bit intrigued. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Jackson glanced at his cousin and smiled. “They’ll make you look taller too.” Jackson immediately felt bad; Hollis was only a few inches shorter than he was. He wasn’t telling Hollis that he was extremely short. But maybe the younger man didn’t take offense, since he simply gave a quick nod, which was good because Jackson wasn’t sure how he would have covered.
Before either could say anything else, the elder Pike was curious. “So tell me everything.”
There had not been much small talk, and Hollis had not heard much more than a sentence at one time from his uncle in his entire life. The teenager wasn’t really offended about the height comment. All he could think about was his aunts cooking, he was starving!
Jackson sat through the story again and was sure it was all truth because his cousin told the same story each time. Jeff asked many questions throughout, and Hollis threw in a few humorous situations that occurred during his road trip that the young man saw as too crude for his aunt. Hollis had almost reached the end of the story, to the point where Jackson had found him in the hunting shack, when Denise stuck her head through the entryway and called, “Soup’s on, boys!”
All three men rose and began moving to the kitchen as Hollis said abruptly, “And then we walked down here, and that’s basically it.”
The places were already set as the three joined the other two at the table, and his wife requested that Jeff ask a blessing over the food. Hollis remained speechless throughout the entire meal, as he almost continually shoved food into his mouth; the others chatted about various topics, and when Old Ben asked about Hollis’s trip, the teenager simply said, “Uh-huh” between mouthfuls of rabbit as his aunt answered for him.
Once they had finished eating, they all helped clean the dishes in assembly-line form. Then they moved into the living room, where Denise played music from the TV through the desktop computer her husband had previously added to it; after a few painful minutes of listening to classical opera, Jeff caught his son’s eyes and jerked his hand in the direction of the bunker door.
Jackson understood and nodded imperceptibly, nudged his cousin, and gave him the same sign. All three men tried to appear casual as they rose and tried not to appear guilty as they began to walk down the hall. Old Ben, waving one finger over his knee, discreetly directing the music, appeared content with sitting there all night. Jackson finally turned as the other two walked on, and, deciding his mother had already noticed the three men missing, shouted over the music, “Come on, Mr. Kennard!” The elder man looked up and apparently just now realized the others were exiting. He stood, made his apologies to Mrs. Pike for being called away, and walked after Jackson, who was leading him to the door the other two had already walked through.
Hollis had no clue, and Old Ben was in awe at Jeff’s bunker. Both were dazzled as they came through the doors and entered the main room. The men instinctively pulled out their own chairs and sat after they noticed Jeff taking a seat at the table.
“So, Mr. Kennard, how much of Hollis’s story did you hear?” Jeff wasn’t upset that Old Ben had eaves dropped. It wouldn’t have been too hard to hear from the kitchen; he just wanted to make sure the older man was up to speed enough to contribute to the conversation they were about to have.
The Jedi Master moved his gaze between Jeff and his nephew. “I heard enough of what the young man said, and I believe I get the gist.”
Hollis unexpectedly blurted, “Since you all know, I suppose it’s safe enough in this bomb shelter to show you…” He let the sentence trail off as he reached into his jeans pocket and laid a black rectangle on the table.
As he did not have one, it took Jackson a moment to realize it was a smartphone and another moment to realize its importance. Then he smacked his hand on the table. “Holy shit, man! You really have the recording?”
Hollis began nodding his head and was about to speak as his cousin asked in confusion, “Why didn’t you tell me when I first found you?”
Hollis did not want Jackson thinking he didn’t trust him and said with a cocked eyebrow, “Would it have made a difference, then or now?”
Jackson already knew it would not have, and he imperceptibly shrugged as Jeff said, “Can we watch it?”
Jackson could almost see his father and the wise old sage, the two conspiracy theorists, rubbing their hands together and looking at a meal.
“No,” Hollis stated flatly. And then he realized he was not denying them the opportunity and recovered. “I mean, not until we find a battery.” His cousin briefly looked at him as if he was going to ask what happened to the battery, so Hollis answered his unspoken question. “I flushed it down the toilet at the first gas station. The government tracks you with it! I’ve se
en Eagle Eye!”
Jackson half smiled while the two older men sincerely nodded in understanding. Jackson refused to get a smartphone out of principle. But his parents both had smartphones, and his father immediately brought his from his own pants pocket, removed the battery, and placed it in his nephew’s. After a few seconds of powering up and tapping icons, Jeff came to the videos, selected the most recent one, and laid the phone on the table as the video began.
The three adults grouped together while Hollis sat and watched the expressions on their faces as the video progressed. Jackson’s eyebrows raised when the assassins walked behind the senators, Jeff’s shoulders seem to sag with the muffled explosion of each gunshot, and Old Ben simply nodded throughout, as if he had known and had expected all of it. The three unanimously realized this was the most important recording any of them had ever seen, and there was good reason why this teenager was now one of the most wanted individuals in America. Jeff knew that everything the government had done to the American people could not be undone, and not even this video could put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Later generations would need to know what had happened, so eventually, when some sort of nation was established on the foundation of what had been America, they could be on the lookout for this sort of thing, and it would not happen to them. What they had just seen would change everything.
“So the federal government used a terrorist attack to cover up the murders of Americans who did not believe the government was all-powerful. My cousin saw this happen, escaped, and traveled halfway across the country with proof of this government conspiracy, and we need to keep him safe from the hit squad now residing in town hall with machine guns and bazookas until we can get this proof exposed nationally?” Jackson asked, knowing what he had seen but just making sure he understood completely.
Old Ben answered much too cheerfully, “That’s about spot on! And I want to mention, I believe the terrorist attacks on the power plants were also staged.”
Great. Glad to know we are all on the same page, Jackson thought, and he sorrowfully smiled as he dropped his head.
Jeff looked up, directly at his nephew sitting across the table. “So what do you want to do, Hollis?”
Hollis was surprised that an adult would actually care what he thought about something like this and wondered if he was actually asking for suggestions or if his uncle just wanted him to feel as if he had made a decision. Regardless, Hollis thought deeply before speaking and finally said, “I was hoping I’d stay here with you and—”
Jeff interrupted in an attempt to reassure his nephew. “Of course! You didn’t even have to ask!”
Hollis dipped his head in thankfulness and continued. “And I figured since they got satellites, they will probably be looking for me here. It would be a good idea if I did not go outside in the daytime.”
Even though Jeff didn’t know Hollis very well, he was proud to have a nephew who was this paranoid; it was probably because of the fact that he had watched movies such as Eagle Eye, Enemy of the State, and Red Dawn over the years with Jackson. Jeff could almost feel a tear come to his eye. “I was going to say the exact same thing.”
Jackson looked up at his cousin with a laugh about to escape him. “You’re just as crazy as these two!”
The Old Jedi stared at him admonishingly. “You can’t deny that they would kill to prevent this truth from being exposed. Anyway, you said there’s a hit squad in town hall.”
Jackson believed they were indeed a hit squad and wasn’t really arguing that these men from the government were there to help. He found this definitive statement cruelly comical.
Jeff stood up between the two, ignoring them both and staring at his nephew, who said, “I don’t mind staying at your house most of the time, but can I go over to Jackson’s every once in a while? I’ll only go over there at night, I promise!” He tacked this last sentence on the way a child would when trying to get permission to do more.
This evoked a smile and a nod from his uncle. “I don’t see a problem with that, but I don’t want you going anywhere else. I think we have a spare twin bed in the attic. We can bring it down here, because the bunker is completely secure.”
Jeff found the phrase “completely secure” all encompassing and a lot easier than explaining what a Faraday cage was or how the bunker was radiation proof or that Jackson’s bunker, though considerably smaller inside, had the same characteristics; he would leave that responsibility for his son.
Jackson remembered the army cots he had stored in his safe room and stated, “I could bring over an army cot—easier than bringing down a mattress.”
Since martial law had been enacted, the guard unit had restricted out-of-town travel, requiring a type of border pass for all civilian vehicles. And even though it was extremely easy for people to travel without drawing the attention of the military, Jeff decided they should be dealt with before anyone went seeking an outlet to expose this inconvenient truth. If someone was able to find a news network or a newspaper or anyone who would break the story anywhere, it would not be a good idea to let a mad dog loose after it sees you kill its master; he knew they would not simply give up or leave. And though he didn’t want to kill them, they could not be trusted to serve and defend his town. He was unwilling to let a group of mobsters who swore allegiance to a tyrannical government control the place his family had called home for generations. He would use any force necessary to protect his home. He would keep his birthplace out from under the thumb of the remains of a federal autocracy, the remnants of a shadow of a republic that had once been for and by the people, that no longer cared for the people anyway. He was willing to sweat and bleed to ensure his home remained free: the free state of Dodge!
◆◆◆
As was customary on each mission, all of the agents carried at least one set of civilian clothing. Aware of the feelings locals held toward most of the government (especially those easily identified by a uniform), the sergeant packed a plain white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans into the Humvee he would be driving. He was anxious about hanging out with Redstone and Jackson today. Redstone had made the invitation the day they went shooting, and he really needed to be around some normal people.
This was Michael and Tyler’s day to sleep in, and Alvarez had orders to cover their routine patrol perimeter after he was finished doing his usual rounds (which encompassed most of the central town and the southeast portion, which would have been Nichols’s job had it not been so sparsely populated). Every other day he covered these rounds throughout the northern part of town or Freeman and Green’s route along the southern line of the town limits; each pair of soldiers still spent the rest of the day guarding their respective bridges but were allowed a short reprieve from early morning perimeter duty. Redstone had invited him to hang out at his friend’s house. He knew by the address that Jackson Pike lived within the area he would be traveling today, and he found no reason to inform Sherman he would be goofing off with his new friend. It was not as if Sherman had a GPS on every Humvee. He realized other people might be up in arms if they were to see the US military in their neighborhood, and he decided to park somewhere and give Redstone a call.
◆◆◆
“Hell if I know. I told him to call me on the radio when he got to my house.” Redstone was informing Jackson that his friend, Bol, was going to come “shoot the shit” with them today when the radio in Jackson’s truck buzzed.
“Yo, ese, tu comprende?”
Jackson waited along with Redstone for the radio and used most of the Spanish he knew with a truly ridiculous attempt at an impersonation of Speedy Gonzales. “Si señor, como estas?”
Bol’s smile could obviously be heard over the radio. “Bien.” He then asked Redstone to “venga a levantarme.”
Jackson could not help but smirk as Redstone squinted, strained to wrap his mind around what was just said, and finally reply with confidence, “Yo quiero Taco Bell.”
Jackson shook his head and chuckled, knowing that this B
ol guy had to be doing the same thing, when the radio lit up again with mock irritation. “Just come get me, white bread. I’m at the water board.”
Jackson wondered why this guy could drive to the water board but no farther. He simply decided he might not know his way around Dodge and chose not to get lost scouring back roads.
Once Redstone had left, Jackson went to the barn to feed the horses and tried to remember ever meeting anyone Redstone would call a friend who was apparently a Latino—the policeman was not a racist; he just didn’t normally get outside of his little box. The redhead knew quite a few people through his work, whom Jackson didn’t, but he probably would not consider most of them friends, and Jackson couldn’t recall ever hearing this guy’s name. Redstone had said they had met a few days ago, though his sense of time was horrible. Jackson assumed he had met this Bol sometime after the blackout.
◆◆◆
“So what did he say about me, homes?” Bol was questioning Redstone about how Jackson felt when Redstone had mentioned that a friend of his planned on coming over today; he hoped Redstone’s best friend would not recognize him from their brief encounter a couple of days ago or realize by his appearance that he was in the military.
“I could tell he had never figured I would hang out with anybody he doesn’t know.” Before Redstone could continue, he saw that Alvarez had opened his mouth to speak, and, keeping one hand on the wheel, he lifted the other hand to stop the interruption and answered the question. He knew what the sergeant was about to ask. “Of course not, man. I ain’t stupid enough to tell him you’re in the Navy SEALs. He probably won’t even remember seeing you, since you were wearing an army hat.”
