The 13: Fall

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  Pemberton—or the old man, as he was called by his friends—had offered his place for tonight’s meeting. An offer that was readily accepted by all parties involved. One couldn’t be too careful these days, he thought. No one ever knew whether the Chinese were going to come over the mountains at any second, or if that imbecile, Walker, was going to negotiate more land over to those communists. Sure, Walker had promised that he was going to see to it that they did everything they could to ensure the United States’ return to greatness. The only problem was, the idiot was trying to change everything great about what was left of the country.

  Pemberton saw the headlights from the cars bounce off the trees, swinging back and forth as the small dirt road curved and twisted, as he kicked back and forth in the old, wooden rocking chair on the wraparound porch. Moments later, the cars stopped in front of the old, yellow farmhouse and emptied their lone passengers. The cars then left. And without a word, the old man stood up and motioned for the two men to follow him around the side of the house to the backyard.

  A small toolshed-looking structure sat at the edge of the yard, leaning against the row of trees. No one would ever guess that underneath the almost thirty-foot-tall pines sat one of the most secure facilities on earth. The old man silently stepped inside and found the hidden keypad behind the workbench. He punched in the numbers and stepped outside again.

  Within seconds, the concrete slab in front of the toolshed began to grumble. He reached out and pulled one of the men back. “Wanna watch where you’re steppin’ there, hoss.” With almost surprising swiftness, the concrete slab released a phst! and began to rapidly move to the side, revealing a set of stairs that led down into the dark earth.

  The old man began to descend the stairs. “Better shake a leg, fellas,” he called over his shoulder to the two men still standing there. “This thing’s gonna reset itself and close in about ten seconds.”

  The two guests followed their host down the dark stairwell.

  Once inside The Room, the old man gestured for his guests to take a seat. He, of course, took the Aresline. Once everyone was seated he began.

  “Good to see you, Judge. Thanks for coming, Governor.”

  Both men nodded and exchanged pleasantries.

  “Milton said that this was urgent. And that it was something that needed my direct attention,” the governor said.

  The old man looked at the other man. “You tell him anything, Milton?”

  “Nothing specific. But I think we all know why we’re here.”

  “Do we?” It was the governor.

  Pemberton pursed his lips and folded one of his long, skinny arms up under the other one, resting his finger in the cleft of his chin. “Lemmie ask you something, Joe. When you were a little boy, when you thought about what you wanted to be when you grew up, what was it?”

  The governor thought about it for a moment. “I wanted to be a fireman.”

  “So then, why aren’t you a fireman?”

  The governor shifted in his seat. “Well, I guess because … well … Look, I just wanted to help people, really.”

  “And that’s why you ran for governor,” Pemberton said.

  “Yes,” the governor answered.

  Pemberton leaned forward. “And that’s why I got you elected. Because I saw something great in you, Joe. It’s why I spent the kind of money I did on you, boy. Because I knew that you couldn’t be shaken. That you’d do whatever you needed to do in order to maintain the greatness of this state.”

  “Thank you, Gavin. I appreciate your kind words.”

  “And I know that you ain’t gonna kowtow to any special interest groups,” Pemberton continued. “It’s your beliefs on God, is what’s got me fired up!”

  “I don’t understand,” the governor said. “Gavin, you know my position on that. I’m an atheist.”

  “Exactly!”

  “Perhaps I can shed some light here,” the judge said.

  Pemberton swept his arm out in a gesture, giving the judge the floor.

  “Joe, it’s been over four months since the Chinese attacked. We all know how close this country came to almost losing everything. If it weren’t for sheer, dumb luck and an exceptional operative named Jon Keene, we’d all be wearing red and pledging allegiance to the People’s Republic of China.

  “Gavin and I have been talking for a while now. President Walker is adamant about his decision to stand still at this time and not take aggression toward the Chinese. That’s ludicrous, in our minds. Once our boys got back here on our shores, and with the help of the Royal Navy, we should have gone full throttle back at them. We should have pushed them right back through the border towns they crossed over and right into the Pacific Ocean. Not just stop and negotiate new borders. What kind of President does that?”

  “A coward! That’s who!” Pemberton snapped.

  The governor nodded to that. It was no secret that the governor had publicly made his objections of President Walker. That he had called him “misguided” and accused him of “playing upon the fears of people who ignorantly placed their hope in something that didn’t exist” by giving credence to the man who called himself the Prophet.

  “Listen, Joe,” the judge continued, “they may call this part of the country the Bible Belt, but I’m here to tell you that there are a lot of people who couldn’t give a care about changing the kinds of things Walker is talking about changing. The man’s gone mad! People down here don’t want that kind of change. We liked our country just fine the way it was before Walker and Grant let it get sold out right out from under their noses.”

  “So what do you want me to do about it?” the governor said.

  “We want you to be our president,” Pemberton said.

  The governor laughed a throaty, short laugh.

  “We’re serious,” the judge said.

  “And how do you plan on making that happen?” the governor said, still chuckling.

  The judge stood up from his chair and went to the wet bar. He poured himself two fingers of Pemberton’s thirty-year-old scotch. He glanced over to the other two to see if they, too, wanted one. They both nodded and the judge poured the round.

  Sitting back down, he continued. “Joe, I’ve been on the North Carolina Supreme Court for eighteen years now. I’ve seen a lot come and go. I’ve seen laws that should have never been laws remain laws. And I’ve seen laws that were rock solid get thrown out like yesterday’s table scraps.

  “I say that to say this: in 1869, the US Supreme Court ruled that a state did not have the right to secede from the union. But here’s the thing: it was against the law for us to secede from England when we wanted our freedom. They said it was against the law when the South tried to secede from the North. But the bottom line is this: our own Declaration of Independence lays out the grounds for when the people of this country should rise up and defend what they know to be right.”

  He pulled out a small piece of paper and unfolded it. Retrieving his reading glasses from his pocket, he smoothed the page and began to read aloud.

  “‘When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.’”

  The governor cleared his throat and tried to say something, but only a squeak came out. He coughed and pounded himself in the chest. “I’m sorry, I guess that scotch went down the wrong pipe. Milton, Gavin, I’ve known you two for a long time. You both are like a second set of granddads to me. But gentlemen, what you are suggesting is treason.”

  Pemberton shot out of his chair. “Treason? Treason! I’ll tell you what’s treason. Letting the gal-dern Chinese set off ten suitcase nukes on our West Coast is treason! Sitting back and watching them come unimpeded across our border was
treason! Presidents Grant and Walker aren’t fit to run a shoe store, let alone this country. And I won’t sit by idly and watch them ruin everything my family and I have worked for almost three hundred years to achieve.”

  “Calm down, Gavin,” the judge said.

  Pemberton drained his glass and slammed it down on the desk before taking his seat again.

  “Joe, what Gavin is saying is there are those of us who have already been moving towards a solution. This thing has come together quickly, I must say. But in the end, it was inevitable. We can’t sit back and let some wacko religious zealots manipulate this country into changing what we are. We have to act now.”

  The governor twirled his finger around his glass. He took a big swallow, stood up, got himself a refill, and sat down again. “So this isn’t just some fly-by-night fancy that you two have cooked up?”

  Pemberton leaned forward onto the desk. “Son, I’ve got no less than two hundred of the top business minds in these southern states ready to pour resources into whatever we need to make this happen. Milton has been in meetings with justices from every state supreme court from Virginia to Georgia. We don’t like Grant’s idea of running this country. What’s left of it. We need to take it back. We need to kick these Chinese back to where they came from. And we don’t need some crackpot calling himself a prophet dictating government policy. We’re doing this. And we want you at the helm.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because,” the judge said, “you already have executive experience and people love you. And like you said, you don’t even believe in God. Why would you base your country’s future on what some kook who says, ‘God says…’?”

  The governor finished his second drink and grabbed the other two men’s glasses. He poured them all another round and sat down. “You realize what you’re asking, right?”

  The old man and the judge nodded.

  “I mean, this is going to make a lot of waves.”

  They nodded again.

  “I’m serious, gentlemen. I mean this could cause an all-out second civil war. Are you prepared for that?”

  Pemberton raised his glass. “Son, we’re not just prepared for it.” He slowly tipped it back and took a sip. “We’re counting on it!”