by Glen Tate
After pacing around the house all night, it was finally “go” time. Ron snuck out of the house at 2:00 a.m. He had to have personal knowledge that each house he tagged was definitely a Loyalist. The Patriots wouldn’t leave this up to making a map and having someone else do it, which could lead to mistaken taggings. That would show that the Patriots had faulty intelligence or faulty execution, and could get innocent people killed. Therefore, a tagger had to know, firsthand, that the occupant was a Loyalist who had committed crimes against the population.
Ron selected three houses in his neighborhood to tag. The first was Carlos Cuevas, a former state Department of Labor official. He had taken over as the FCorps organizer for the Cedars and was a real prick. He went around to people’s houses having “impromptu” conversations about politics and taking notes. He wasn’t even subtle about it. Carlos thought all Patriots were bigots out to get him. He and his family had an FCard chock full of credits.
Carlos had arranged for some FCorps goons to “visit” Len Isaacson, one of Ron’s good neighbors, after Len gave Carlos some “wrong” answers in a political conversation. Len didn’t get sent away to prison, but he might have. Len’s FCard suddenly had zero credits on it. People in the neighborhood, like Ron, gave scarce food to Len’s family. Carlos mocked Len by saying there must be a “glitch” with Len’s FCard and he “would get right on that.” That was such classic, passive-aggressive behavior of a weak bully who temporarily had power. Carlos loved the power. He was about to find out the other side of that coin.
The second house was Rex Maldonado’s. He was a former hippie who became Assistant Director of the State Unemployment Agency. He was Carlos’s right hand man. Rex wore Che Guevara t-shirts and, with his gray pony tail, lectured everyone about “social justice.” He was all about “peace and freedom,” but would send the FCorps to your house if you disagreed with his version of “peace and freedom.”
The third house was Scott Baker. He was not a government employee. He worked for some insurance company before the Collapse. Scott was taking maximum advantage of the situation for his personal gain. He volunteered with the FCorps to spy on his neighbors. At first, no one knew he was doing it. People would talk freely to him about politics and how awful things were. Scott would nod and sympathize. Those who talked to him started to get visits from Carlos and Rex. It took a while for them to figure out it was Scott who ratted them out. A few weeks before Christmas Eve, with his cover blown, Scott quit trying to pretend he wasn’t a spy. He started going around with Carlos and Rex to talk to people. Scott was handsomely rewarded for his work. He had plenty of FCard credits. He got government gas, which he sold to people in the neighborhood.
There were more people in the neighborhood who Ron suspected of being Loyalists working with the “Carlos cabal” as they called them. But Ron didn’t have proof. His instructions from Matt Collins were very clear: only clearly established Loyalists got tagged. Carlos, Rex, and Scott certainly qualified.
The actual tagging of the houses was anti-climactic. Ron left the house with his can of black spray paint. He was careful to take the route as far from the street lights as possible to stay out of the light. Ron was getting good at this. He went out a few times a month and painted Patriot graffiti messages in his area with yellow spray paint.
There were no guards to worry about anymore. After the looters were shot and Grant left the neighborhood, the FCorps took over guard duties. They were pathetic. Soon, they no longer were guarding and—to everyone’s surprise—there were no break-ins. How could the FCorps pull that off? Was this a government success?
Nope. It turns out that the FCorps in Ron’s neighborhood, and surrounding ones, made a deal with the gangs. Under the direction of the police, the gangs divided Olympia into sections, one gang running each area. The FCorps would pay the gangs to make sure the neighborhoods of government officials, like the Cedars where Ron lived, were left alone. The gangs were given free rein to kill all amateur competitors in their sector, and they did. Ruthlessly.
The FCorps paid the gangs by allowing them to sell “gang gas,” guns, and anything thing else they wanted. So the apparent government “success” of some safe neighborhoods was achieved by the government simply buying off some very bad people.
Ron went to the farthest house first and then worked his way back toward his house. The first house was Scott Baker’s. Second was Carlos’s, then Rex’s. There. That was it. Now he waited for the Patriots to come in to liberate his neighborhood.
It wouldn’t be long.
Chapter 260
Be Careful What You Wish For
(December 24 - 25)
Jim Q. couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was his cousin saying, “The cow has two heads,” in their language, which was code for the big operation starting on New Year’s Day. The time had come after months of planning. It was really going to happen. Jim Q. was simultaneously excited and scared.
“My uncle has a brown mustache,” Jim Q. replied to his cousin through the radio. This meant that the 17th had confirmed that it would be moving out at midnight on New Year’s Day.
Jim Q. hoped he’d see his cousin at their people’s New Year celebration of Kha b-Nisan, which was on April 1st. He hoped that the ordeal would all be over by then and they could have their usual family feast. Hopefully.
Jim Q. went and told Ted and Sap who both figured it would be New Year’s Day when Lt. Col. Hammond had said the name of the operation was “Tet,” which was the Vietnamese New Year’s Day.
Grant wasn’t at the Marion Farm because it was Christmas Eve and the plan was for him to spend Christmas Eve with his family and come out to Marion Farm on Christmas Day for dinner. Grant wanted to spend more time with the unit, but he had an obligation to his family. Ted understood and wished he could be with his kids and grandkids on Christmas. Not this year. Maybe next year.
Thinking of how Grant should spend quality time with his family led Ted to make a decision. Against all military protocol, he decided not to tell him about New Year’s Day until after Grant got a stress-free Christmas Eve with his family. Grant could start worrying about the mission on Christmas Day, when he came out to Marion Farm. Ted smiled. At least one family would have a good Christmas Eve this year.
Indeed, Grant’s Christmas Eve was fantastic. He had become really good at “compartmentalizing” information. He could put an imaginary box around bad news or worry in his brain and forget about it for a while to have a good time. Then, when the good times were over, he could unpack the bad news and address it. He could turn the worry switch on and off.
Grant had to do that a lot during the Collapse. He had to pretend, for example, not to know that he would be leaving his family soon while he played with his kids and spent time with his wife. He was lying to them the whole time, but, somewhat sadly, he could compartmentalize it. It was a survival skill.
One thing Grant had to compartmentalize was how hard of a time Manda was having after shooting Randy Greene. She was still having nightmares. She would get depressed for a day or two. Sometimes she wouldn’t talk to anyone and then she’d be okay. She wasn’t the same spunky girl who had come to the cabin that spring. Grant felt like he’d lost a part of his daughter.
Manda was in a great mood on Christmas Eve, though. She had been looking forward to Christmas for so long. She really wanted the “normal” feelings of Christmas. She was fine with some differences this year, like having Christmas at the cabin instead of their home in Olympia, but she wanted to feel like things weren’t entirely different now. She could handle mostly different, but not entirely.
The Matsons had a big Christmas Eve dinner, which was a new tradition. They’d have a big Christmas family dinner, too, but the Christmas Eve dinner was for friends to come over and visit. Everyone brought food.
The Morrells were the first to arrive. Mary Anne brought a boom box, several CDs of Christmas music, and some cookies. They played Christmas music for hours. It was magical listening
to songs they all remembered. Grant had the wood stove going and it put out a tremendous amount of heat. It was warm, bright, and joyous in the Matson cabin.
Jordan arrived next with his parents who came for a short while before leaving. It had the feel of the first of many Matson Christmas gatherings with the Sparks’ family.
Next to come over was the Team and the Team Chicks, Gideon, and Chip and his new girlfriend, Liz. She was very nice, and cute as a button. She was a gregarious brunette divorcee with three teenage sons. Chip saw her at the Grange and was too shy to strike up a conversation, which was strange given that he could talk to anyone, but he knew he really wanted to be with her and that scared him. Life was hard enough during the Collapse; Chip didn’t want a broken heart on top of everything. However, he underestimated what a catch he was. Liz was attracted to him and realized her boys needed a good man like him as a role model. She asked him out at the Thanksgiving dinner and they’d been together ever since. At the Christmas Eve dinner, he was acting like a puppy dog in love.
Grant realized that the Team, Gideon, Chip, and Liz had one thing in common: they didn’t have a family out there, but now they did.
The last guests to arrive were Tammy and Missy. It was one of the only times Tammy had been out of the house, except to visit Mark in the mental ward and go to work. She really needed to see some smiles. She needed to know that life was going on as normal somewhere. Maybe there wasn’t any joy in her dark, dreary, and nearly empty house, but there was somewhere else. Tammy needed to see that, while her son was missing and her husband and daughter were mentally gone, she still had a family, her Pierce Point family. She forgot about a lot of the negativity in her life for those few hours at the Matson Christmas cabin.
The stockings were up. They were the ones they made for this year, not their normal ones, because their normal ones were back at their abandoned house in Olympia. But, even though they were different than the usual ones, just hanging them made it a “real” Christmas. Christmas would continue; no Collapse could stop it.
Best of all, they had a Christmas tree. There were plenty of small evergreens growing all around Pierce Point. In fact, one of the houses in Pierce Point was actually a small Christmas tree farm and they decided to give away free Christmas trees, mainly because no one had any money to buy them.
Grant didn’t get a tree from the tree farmer. Instead, he, Manda, and Cole went out a week earlier and cut their own tree on a nearby vacant lot. They hauled it home, which was a lot of work without a truck. Grant remembered past Christmases when they’d strap the tree to the roof of his Acura. It looked so pathetically suburban, a tree on top of an Acura.
Cutting their own tree this year was glorious, it was a memory that would last forever. They even had hot cider when they got back. Cole couldn’t stop talking about it, which was the best part of the experience for Grant.
Everyone ate and ate at the Christmas Eve party. They hadn’t been full in … well, since Thanksgiving. Before Thanksgiving, they’d gone all summer and fall without ever being full, which made feeling full a very big deal.
They tasted foods they had forgotten existed, like sweet pickles. Mary Anne brought some over that she’d canned. Who would get excited about sweet pickles? Anyone who hadn’t had sugar in a month. They saved the pickle juice to make tuna sandwiches. They had plenty of canned tuna. They lacked mayonnaise, but tuna and sweet pickle juice had become a delicacy. Even for people like Lisa who hadn’t liked tuna before. Now—after cornbread, beans, and rice every day—it tasted like the Mahi-Mahi she had at a fancy restaurant in Maui when the family went on vacation.
Chip and Liz capped off the day with some homemade wine. Liz had made it out of wild strawberries and huckleberries. It was amazing, so sweet and flavorful. Grant had never tasted fruit so flavorful. The adults quickly became tipsy as they made their way through several gallons.
It was dark—the sun started setting at 4:30 p.m. in late December this far north—and people were heading home. Grant was exhausted, full and half drunk. He fell asleep on the couch a little after 7:00 p.m. The kids went to bed a little while later. Then Lisa, who was drunk on wine, dragged Grant into bed. He wasn’t too tired for what came next.
Lisa got up in the middle of the night and put the presents out. She always did that; Grant slept too soundly, so she had always done it. This year was no exception. On Christmas morning, the kids got up early, as usual. They came down to find their presents by the woodstove. Grant was wearing one of his “World’s Best Dad” t-shirts that the kids had given him for a Father’s Day gift when they were little. For a split second, he thought about what a lie that shirt was. He was leaving for war very soon and had been lying to them. He didn’t deserve to wear that shirt. Then, just as quickly, the bad thoughts vanished and the compartmentalization kicked in. He was Grant, the good father, again.
Manda exploded with joy when she opened her present, a new dress. Eileen and Mary Anne had been secretly making it for her. She loved it. It wasn’t the flashy kind of prom dress she had always dreamed about it, but it was great, and nicely made. Nothing was ever fancy out there at Pierce Point, just practical. It was nice to have something fancy for a change.
Cole went crazy with joy, too. He got two new games for his handheld game player. Grant got them by sending some .22 ammo with Rich on one of his grocery runs into town. Rich got the games from a guy selling them at one of the garage sales in town. They weren’t at people’s houses like in the past, but in the parking lot of the grocery store where the Blue Ribbon Boys maintained order. That was the only safe place where sellers knew they wouldn’t be robbed. Commissioner Winters got a cut of all the sales in the crime-free parking lot.
On that same run into town, Rich got Grant some soap and perfume, which cost a half a brick of .22. Grant thought he got ripped off, but he wanted Lisa to have a great Christmas. He wanted her to have “normal,” chick things. He wanted to make her feel beautiful and pampered. It was so important to Grant that he didn’t mind getting ripped off. Besides, he had plenty of .22 ammo.
Lisa got Grant a wonderful gift: a nice Swiss Army knife. It was beautiful, new in the box. Lisa had no idea how much it was worth. Neither did the patient she treated who gave her the knife as payment. Grant was thrilled. It felt so amazing to have something new in his hand, something fancier than it had to be. He knew he would have that knife with him at all times in the coming days, perhaps, the rest of his life. It was a real keepsake.
Manda and Cole made Grant a heart-shaped clump of glued clam shells. Grant almost cried. It was genuine and meaningful. Grant would treasure that for the rest of his life.
Drew and Eileen got the kids a bracelet for Manda and a nice pocket knife for Cole. Drew was using that stash of pre-Collapse cash and having people go into town to get things. By now, the cash was almost worthless, but it still bought trinkets.
After they opened gifts, they had their traditional Christmas morning breakfast—kind of. In previous years, Grant would go out on Christmas Eve and get donuts and they’d have them for breakfast on Christmas morning. It was the only morning in the year they’d have donuts for breakfast.
There were no donuts this year, so Grant got some of the MRE desserts he saved from the meals he ate out in the field. He stashed them away all year long for just an occasion like this. So, in lieu of donuts, Grant handed out MRE desserts, a fudge brownie, cinnamon scone, chocolate banana muffin top, vanilla pound cake (Grant’s favorite), shortbread (his second favorite), cherry blueberry cobbler, raisin nut mix with chocolate candies, and Chips Ahoy-like cookies.
The Matson family loved the unorthodox Christmas morning “donuts.” It seemed fitting for this Collapse Christmas.
Grant knew that next Christmas he would either be eating real donuts, prison food, or be dead. He just hoped that if he were eating donuts, it would be with his family, though he suspected it wouldn’t be.
The family Christmas dinner was largely a continuation of the Christmas Eve
dinner. They had the same great food. They talked about the past year and all they’d accomplished. It was a marvelous, marvelous dinner. Grant had never felt as close to his family as he did right then.
Before he knew it, it was getting dark and time for Grant to go. After dinner, Grant excused himself and got his kit, AR, and his new Swiss Army knife.
“Gotta run out and do some morale stuff with the rental team,” Grant said to Lisa. “I’ll be back in the morning, or thereabouts.”
Lisa nodded. She understood, but only because she didn’t know where he was really going.
Grant went over to the yellow cabin where the Team, Team Chicks, Gideon, and Chip and Liz were finishing up their Christmas dinner. It was getting dark.
The Team kissed their women goodbye, because they’d be staying the night “out in the field,” as they called it. They told their girlfriends that, in the next few days, they would be going away for a while. The goodbye kisses were long and difficult. Some of the girls were crying.
Grant could feel a definite change. Things had been so magical for the past day or two with all the Christmas celebrations. Now things were going to get grim. It was like a Monday morning after a great weekend.
This was the first time Grant wasn’t thrilled to go to Marion Farm. He could sense that all the camaraderie and adventure of the 17th Irregulars was about to turn into some very nasty business. He was glad they had the good times of Christmas, but he knew that bad times were ahead.
The Team got into Mark’s truck. Bobby was driving it while Mark was … gone. Seeing Mark’s truck without Mark in it reminded everyone about the tragedy of Mark and Paul. And Missy. And Tammy.
The rest of the Team was feeling like Grant, like they were heading into a very serious time in their lives, a time to do what they had been training to do for months, to do what they needed to do. They were doing a job very few were capable of doing, a job that desperately needed to be done. They were glad that they got to do it, but they were anxious about the bad things they knew lay ahead. Each of them had been thinking a lot lately about dying and how to deal with their friends dying.
