Free State Of Dodge
Page 30
Jackson and the little guy now swam into focus on the other side of the table, and before he could greet them or even nod, Redstone continued as if they were the only two in the room. “So I’m guessing you ain’t really in the army?”
The man who had just received a bullet wound to the chest was unable to give a detailed answer and shook his head that he was not. He would have willingly told his new friends that he was a DHS agent, the name of the current operation, all the objectives, and everything else the policeman would eventually ask.
Redstone continued with his line of questioning. “You’re not a sergeant, and your name isn’t really Bolivar Alvarez.” This came out not as a question but as a statement, because Redstone was already confident of the answers.
He received another nod that confirmed his suspicions, followed by Bol’s attempt to turn to gaze across the room to ensure they were the only people in earshot, because he realized what the next question would be.
“So what’s your real name?”
Bol’s bloodless face turned red. No matter how embarrassing, he felt obligated to answer any question he could. He had always hated the name he was born with and could never figure out what his parents had been thinking when they were choosing it. He spoke in a pained voice, unsure whether the pain was caused by recently being shot or out of revulsion. “Flamingo Gaspar.”
The two cousins stepped back and faded from his vision while Redstone, unmoving, raised one eyebrow higher than he thought possible and lowered the other as he paused for a considerable time. Jackson could see the gears in his friend’s head turn and could feel a Superbad moment coming.
Redstone finally exclaimed, “Bol works for me.”
Epilogue
July 26
OLD BEN STEPPED into the MCU with a heavy heart. Well, it should have been heavy, but he just didn’t feel the loss of his best friend or the young man in the explosion that had destroyed Pike’s. The overhead lights flickered on as realization came to the Jedi Master: despite the impossibility, he was confident the two they had assumed lost would be joining them soon.
He homed in on the computer terminals against one wall and immediately started pocketing anything he thought could be valuable information. The town hall and this trailer might not be long for this world.
Headquarters had e-mailed and radioed dozens of times and was prepping a recon drone to fly over wherever it was in Alabama that Sherman was supposed to be. The sudden movement on the webcam had three IT agents crowded around one monitor, desperate to see the federal troops on the other end. The only thing visible was what appeared to be brown-and-tan robes on a figure standing in the picture.
Sherman knew how to use the video link. His character was a National Guardsman, not one of those stupid rednecks he’d been sent to eliminate. So he would be capable of understanding technology.
“Sherman, Sherman, come in,” the voice desperately pleaded over unseen speakers.
The radio, ignoring any military radio etiquette or call signs, sounded again. “We can see you. Just say something and let us know everything’s OK. We saw an explosion over the satellite!”
The old Jedi was trying to figure out what they meant by “see you” and realized there must be a camera pointed at him. He immediately threw the hood over his head, hoping to disguise his facial features from recognition software.
He spoke slowly while continuing to search for a camera. “Sherman is unavailable, being part of that explosion you witnessed.” There was a long pause before Old Ben spied the camera, posing no threat, almost directly in front of him at waist level and clearly pointing no higher than his chest.
The radio hesitantly asked, “So who is this?”
The wise old sage proudly came back. “My name is unimportant. The only thing you need to know is I am one of the founding members of the Free State of Dodge!”
What the hell was this guy talking about? The three techs looked at one another incredulously before one finally asked, “Free State of Dodge?”
Old Ben shook his head and smiled. “Have you ever heard of the free state or Republic of Winston?”
None of the three could do anything more than questioningly shake their heads in confusion as the speaker pressed the “transmit” button. “Well, no,” one replied.
It was almost fun to teach young people things they would have no reason to know, and the Jedi Master couldn’t help but smile wider. “Check your history, young man.”
Old Ben was aware that the secession of Winston County, Alabama, from the Confederate States of America during the War for Southern Independence was never actually official, even though papers were signed declaring independence from the state of Alabama, which had already declared independence from the Union. He knew one would be hard-pressed to find a continental map with Winston County marked as a separate country.
“Just know we are declaring our region independent from your United States.” He sarcastically spat out the official name of the country before continuing. “And tell your superiors we are currently holding prisoner one of your military servicemen.”
The Jedi Master turned and spoke to the detained, injured, depressed young soldier and ordered him to speak loudly and give his name.
Off camera, a weak and tearful voice sounded. “It’s me, Bouvier!”
Bouvier? That was the agent using the name of Private Freeman. Were the ignorant hillbillies raping him, or were they just using him to avoid being carpet bombed? These three could not make the call, but they could not see anyone leaving a person imprisoned by rednecks who didn’t have indoor plumbing!
Old Ben looked at the young man questioningly for a brief moment, confident his name tag read “Freeman,” and the words of the young sergeant came back to him. None of the National Guardsmen stationed in Dodge were using their real names.
He shook himself and spoke. “He’ll be spending the majority of his time here at the town hall.”
This guy said that as if it would be reason enough to leave the area radiation free. And even though these lowly techs didn’t want a dutiful American to die, they all knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Most federal troops and even FEMA had been pulled back to defend the borders of the northeastern corridor from the primitives who resided in the rest of the country. All the internal battles could be quelled, and the progressive states that remained loyal to their federal benefactors could be saved while those constitutionalist racists between New England and the West Coast could starve to death with their guns and religion.
None of the DHS techs would tell him what they all knew: the government was currently stretched to its limits and couldn’t afford the resources to bother bombing some Podunk town in Alabama.
“Don’t worry, Bouvier. We’ll get you out of there!”
They had no idea how he could be saved, but they at least wanted to give him some hope.
The old Jedi sighed, not wanting to spend any more time talking to low-level know-nothings. “I believe this trailer will remain powered for a long time. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I would appreciate being connected with an informed person.” He had to stifle a laugh, knowing it would not be a government employee. “It obviously goes without saying that the military equipment your government used in hostilities against the Free State of Dodge will be confiscated to defend our new nation.”
This was one of the proudest moments of his long life—telling the federal government they were no longer in control. And when he uttered the title of this new republic, he almost sounded emboldened: “the Free State of Dodge.”
Acknowledgments
I FIRST NEED to thank my mother, the lone alpha reader of this book. Thanks, Mama. Without you Dodge wouldn’t exist.
My dad is the reason you are reading this. I would not have been able to get through the publishing process without him.
The beta readers: Glen Mardis, Dr. Bruce Powell, Dr. Larry Johnston, Andy Grimes, and Clint Smith. Free State would appear to have been written by an illiterate wit
hout all of your corrections and the corrections by the CreateSpace editors.
Clint Smith is one of my greatest friends and 100 percent of the inspiration for Redstone. If you have ever met Clint Smith, you have met Cliff Stone.
Without the advice of Josh Ivey, I would have completely butchered the military ranking system. Thanks.
I must thank Nuance for producing Dragon NaturallySpeaking. I am legally blind, and regardless of how many times Dragon misunderstands me, I would not have begun writing without access to this helpful technology.
Glen Tate, author of 299 Days you deserve a big thanks for the encouragement and inspiration you sent my way.
A special thanks again to all of the CreateSpace team for their help during this project.
Last but not least, I need to thank my brother’s first and only wife, Tiffany Bonds, my gamma reader.
Javan Bonds
TWENTY-EIGHT-YEAR-OLD JAVAN BONDS lives with Friedreich’s Ataxia (FA), a neuromuscular disease under the umbrella of the Muscular Dystrophy Association. While he has battled FA his entire life, Bonds has never let it rule him. He has lived, loved, and laughed often.
Writing provides Bonds with both pleasure and a creative outlet. He began blogging at a young age and has written articles and letters for the local newspaper. In 2010, he discovered a passion for writing novels.
FA took Bonds’s sight in 2010, but he continues to read three to five audio books a week. He uses Dragon Naturally Speaking to write his books.
Bonds and his loyal service monkey, hope you enjoy Free State of Dodge and its upcoming sequel.