by Bobby Akart
“No such luck, Coop. Y’all can’t get rid of me that easy. It’s like I’ve got nine lives.”
Duncan got suddenly quiet and began to kick at the gravel in front of the house. They needed to address the elephant in the room.
“Coop, I have a lot of regrets in my life, and taking the shot to kill Kim Jong-un isn’t one of them. I wish I could take one of those nine lives I just mentioned and give it to Dallas. I’d give anything to bring him back.”
Cooper started to get emotional and kicked at the same rocks Duncan had swatted with his boot earlier. “I know, Duncan. I’ve always known that you took his death as hard as I did. But it wasn’t your fault, just as shooting the phony dictator didn’t trigger this war. People with more power than we have are responsible for both.”
“Thanks, Coop, but the fact is I could’ve discouraged Dallas from entering the service. I knew what war was like. One of the reasons I became a special ops guy was the promise that I could fight the enemy without the gloves on. If you’re gonna fight a war, you do it balls to the wall. Dallas was over there doin’ police duty. He never had a chance against roadside bombs or fools wearing suicide vests.”
Cooper moved to hug his brother. He comforted Duncan as he realized the wall between them over the death of Dallas had just been torn down, never to return. The guys hugged it out, then, to show they were still macho men, pounded each other on the chest.
“So we’re good?” asked Duncan.
“Yup,” replied Cooper with a nod. “But I need help on something.”
“You name it.”
“Duncan, I killed two guys over in Patricia when our truck ran out of gas. They were attacking—”
“I know all about it, Coop. Sook and I came upon them on the road back to the ranch. Y’all tied one of ’em to the sign, right?”
“Yeah,” Cooper answered. “Duncan, I wanted to kill him too.”
“I don’t blame you,” said Duncan. “After the idiot told me the whole story, it was all I could do to get on that horse and not beat him to death myself. Listen, you were protecting Riley.”
Cooper returned to kicking rocks. “Defending Riley was actually easy. After a while, I thought back on what happened. It was all so fast. Amazingly, I hit those guys exactly where I aimed.”
“That’s good,” said Duncan with a laugh. “Especially with Riley and Palmer nearby. I need to talk with you about the concept of friendly fire.”
“But listen. It really messed me up, you know? I wanted to shoot the third guy. Just kill him in cold blood.”
“Yeah, but you showed restraint and didn’t,” interjected Duncan.
“I threw up instead.”
“Coop, we’re in the midst of a war, believe it or not,” started Duncan. “There may not be tanks rolling through the countryside or bombs falling from jets over our heads. There are, however, desperate people out there, and I’m not just talking about outside the Texas borders. People are in trouble here too, and we’re gonna have to deal with them.”
“Daddy and Preacher already have,” added Cooper.
Duncan continued. “There are mental breakdowns that soldiers experience as a result of getting shot at and killing others. Post-traumatic stress disorder is very real. Some guys get PTSD really bad. Others don’t. Truthfully, I can kill without doubt or remorse. It’s a curse, not a gift, trust me.”
“Riley’s the same way,” said Cooper. “He killed while we were on the road, and it didn’t even faze him. I kill two guys and I blow chow all over the highway.”
Duncan put his arm around Cooper’s shoulder. “We’re not wired to kill each other. You ever heard the word posturing before?”
“Yeah, like a couple of cowboys about to fight over a girl,” Cooper began to reply. “They get all bowed up, sticking their chests out, lean forward, and ball up their fists.”
“Exactly, Coop. Animals do the same thing. Heck, even rattlesnakes, which will kill a human without hesitation, avoid killing another rattlesnake if possible. People think PTSD comes from a fear of dying, but really, it comes from the memories of killing another human being.”
“How do you do it?”
“Coop, it’s my job. Plain and simple. Now, it helps that the person in the line of fire is the enemy, or at least perceived to be the enemy. The day a human being decides to kill for fun or sport, then they lose their soul and become a murderer.”
Major approached them from the house, and Cooper decided to cut the conversation off. “Can we talk some more about this later?”
“Absolutely, just between us,” replied Duncan.
“Hey, fellas, am I breaking something up here?” asked Major.
“No, Dad,” replied Duncan. “As a matter of fact, there’s something I want to discuss with you and Coop in private.”
Chapter 4
Christmas Day
The Armstrong Ranch
Borden County, Texas
“Are you boys all right?” asked Major. He’d tried unsuccessfully for years to get Cooper to let go of his animosity toward his brother. Dallas’s death had been an emotional blow to the family, but it was exacerbated by Cooper’s resentment. As he approached his two oldest sons, his reading of their body language indicated a thaw in the chilly relationship they’d endured for a while.
“Yeah, Daddy, we’re good,” started Cooper with a smile. “Right, Duncan?”
“Yessir,” Duncan said as he grabbed his brother’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He turned his attention back to Major. “Daddy, I’m glad the three of us are alone.”
“Is there somethin’ else, Duncan?” asked Major.
“I believe so, but I didn’t want to mention it earlier. We had two encounters on the road. One was near Winslow, Arizona, which involved me killing a couple of thugs. The other was in New Mexico as we looked for a safe way across the Pecos River.”
Major looked back toward the house and pointed toward the barn, indicating the boys should follow him. All the hands had cleared out and were on the ranch tending to the cattle or performing security functions.
“Were they related somehow? There’s a lot of geography between those two points.”
They settled in the barn and sat on top of the picnic tables, which had been cleared of their Christmas decorations. As Miss Lucy had predicted, after Christmas dinner, it was immediately back to living life in a post-apocalyptic world.
“When I relayed what happened in Winslow earlier, I failed to mention that the men who attacked the convoy were Koreans. I’m no expert on the demographics of Northern Arizona, but I doubt there are many Koreans.”
“Agreed, go on,” interjected Major.
“When Sook’s horse died on the highway, a convoy of trucks was heading south from Roswell. I wasn’t sure they’d be friendlies, so I hoisted Sook on my horse, and we found a place to hide. The convoy stopped to check on her dead horse and began shouting instructions to one another.”
Duncan hesitated, so Cooper urged him on. “What is it, Duncan?”
“Coop, they were Koreans, too. North Koreans, to be exact.”
Cooper asked, “Did you get a close look at ’em? How would you know that?”
“Sook immediately recognized their Pyongyang dialect, as she called it. Koreans are able to differentiate North from South by the different Korean dialects.”
Major took a deep breath and let out a noticeable exhale. “Is there any chance it was part of the same group? I mean, that would be a heckuva coincidence.”
“I don’t know, ’cause I never really got a good look at them during either encounter. I know this, however, there aren’t a lot of Koreans in America anyway. Running across the same group twice would be highly improbable. If it’s two different groups, then don’t you think it’s pretty bold for Koreans to be running around attacking and commandeering convoys?”
Major nodded in agreement. “Something’s wrong with this picture, and we need to send it up the chain of command, so to speak. I reckon we oughta m
ake a trip to Austin, sooner rather than later.”
“I’m in, too,” started Cooper.
Major patted Cooper on the shoulder and shook his head. “No, Coop, I’m gonna need you to stay here at the ranch.”
“Why?”
“Son, we’re gonna begin making some changes around here,” replied Major as he addressed both of his sons. “Boys, I believe we’ve been very fortunate that Texas maintained a separate power grid. Just because we have power doesn’t mean we’re sleeping on a bed of roses. We’ve had incidents here at the ranch, and I imagine you two have seen things outside our borders you haven’t fully disclosed to me yet. Until things settle down, which may take years, I need to delegate some of my responsibilities so I can attend to the whole operation.”
“Whadya mean, Daddy?” asked Cooper.
“Coop, I’m gonna start grooming you to take over for me and run the ranch,” replied Major, who then turned to Duncan. “Duncan, I’m putting you in charge of security. We have a good thing going here, whether the power stays on or not. I’m entrusting Cooper to maintain the status quo, and then make it better using the energy that he has and I don’t anymore.”
Duncan stretched his hand out to his father. They shook, and then Cooper said, “Daddy, I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t, Coop,” started Major as he gestured in a circle with his arm. “Duncan, don’t feel slighted by my decision because your job is equally important. No matter what we’ve managed to achieve here, if we can’t defend it, it isn’t ours. There’s no man better to defend the Armstrong Ranch than you.”
Chapter 5
December 26
Office of the President
The Mansion
Austin, Texas
Every politician dreams of becoming President of the United States. When Harold Fauntleroy was elected county selectman in Bug Tussle, Texas, he mused with his wife that he could be president one day—one never knew. When Marion Burnett first ran for statewide office in Texas, she not only knew she’d win, but she felt in her bones that she’d be the governor of Texas someday, and maybe, just maybe, she’d make her way to Washington for the big job. Well, Marion Burnett was president now, but of the Republic of Texas rather than the United States. The big job might have eluded her, but the task ahead of her was ginormous nonetheless.
“Madam President, good morning,” greeted her running mate and the new vice president of Texas, Montgomery Gregg. Gregg had worn many hats during his illustrious career in the United States military and then in civilian life as the Secretary of Defense. Like President Burnett, he had high aspirations, but the title that he had earned in the recent election was never on his political radar.
“Hi, Monty,” said President Burnett cheerfully. She’d welcomed a day away from the trials and tribulations of establishing a new government, not to mention the indicators of collapse that were surfacing around Texas. “Did you enjoy Christmas with your missus?”
“I did, although most of the time she complained of the constant security detail surrounding our place. She’s not adjusting too well, to put it mildly.”
“Is there anything I can do to make things better for her? Other than pull the detail, of course. She does understand that we receive death threats daily, right?”
Gregg unbuttoned his jacket and took a seat across the desk from the president. With a sigh, he responded, “I try not to throw that in her face. In Washington, we had military personnel stationed outside our home, but the level of security was much less. In a way, it might be good if she were able to see what’s going on around America and even in our state. She might appreciate how lucky we are.”
President Burnett chuckled. “Ah, the media. Both a blessing and a curse, depending upon which side you’re on.”
“True. The press is called the fourth estate for a reason. The media’s power is overwhelming, but their misuse of that power to advance a political ideology is criminal.”
President Burnett left her desk to refill her coffee. “Would you like some?”
“No, thanks.”
As she returned to her desk, she slid a report across the top for Gregg to see. “I just received this from the adjutant general’s office,” started the president. “On the surface, it looks glum. I’ll bottom line it for you.”
“Okay.”
“Texas will be running out of food soon.”
“Have we already exhausted the strategic reserves we gained access to?” he asked as he thumbed through the graphs, spreadsheets, and projections.
“No, but based upon rationing and other means of allocating the reserves, by February, roughly ninety days after the EMPs hit the U.S., the total food storage within grocery-store-chain warehouses, emergency supplies, and people’s homes will be exhausted.”
Gregg furrowed his brow as he placed the report back on her desk. “While there was no good time for the catastrophe inflicted upon us by Iran and North Korea, entering our winter months was by far the worst timing. The growing season was over. Most livestock had been sold and sent to slaughterhouses around America.”
President Burnett took another sip of coffee and then swallowed hard as she began to speak. “Now food imports have slowed to a crawl because U.S. ports can’t process the container ships, and we can’t allow them into Houston because the dredging operation is still under way.”
Texas was employing a variety of dredging techniques to open the Port of Galveston and the Houston Ship Channel after the nuclear explosion off Galveston Island displaced a million square feet of sea bottom. These ungainly workhorses sucked mud and sand from the murky floor, working twenty-four hours a day in a frantic attempt to open ship traffic.
The dredges had to maintain the channel at a depth of forty-five feet or more for the deep-draft ships delivering cargo to the Houston docks. The dredging operations had been a part of the Galveston District of the Army Corps of Engineers for over a hundred years. Mother Nature worked against the corps due to hurricanes from offshore and heavy flooding in the Houston area. The muck dredged one month could quickly be replaced the next by a category three hurricane or larger.
“And the natives are growing restless,” started Gregg. “Preparing Texas for this calamity was one thing, but getting the citizenry prepared was another. Despite the major hurricanes and tornadoes that Texans endured in recent years, families still did not heed the warnings. They didn’t stockpile food, water, and medical supplies, as the public service announcements suggested.”
“I have to admit something that stays within these four walls,” began the president. “Texas was so proud to exercise its independent streak and maintain a power grid under ERCOT, which survived this attack. But we overlooked the day-to-day preparedness measures that should’ve been addressed. Honestly, Monty, we totally overlooked the fact that if the U.S. grid failed, our source of food, supplies, and medications dried up too.”
Gregg gathered his thoughts as he rubbed his temple. Fighting wars was much easier for him than tedious government administration. “We need to establish international trading partners. Our deal with Washington doesn’t do us that much good today, only down the road when America gets on her feet.”
“That could take years,” interrupted the president.
“Most likely, yes. The alternative is to establish international trade partners and start getting shipments into Houston. What is the time frame on the dredging operation?”
President Burnett rustled through some paperwork on her desk until she found the report from the port authority of the Houston Ship Channel. “Assuming decent weather, which is likely for this time of year, they’ll need another four to six weeks,” started Burnett as she threw the report back on her desk. She sat back in her chair and sighed. “Got any ideas?”
Gregg stroked his chin and nodded his head. “I do, actually. I need to make a call to Hong Kong and a company called Transward.”
“What do they do?”
“It’s a process called midst
ream operation,” replied Gregg. “Basically, Transward loads and unloads cargo containers at the ship while it’s still at sea. The containers are placed on flat-bottom barges, which don’t have much draw, and are then guided into port using tugs. It’s very effective in Hong Kong.”
President Burnett sat up in her chair. “That could work, but why Hong Kong? Isn’t there a company closer to home?”
“No, and here’s why. Midstream operations have been abandoned most everywhere in the world except for Hong Kong, where the ports are insufficient to handle heavy traffic and the fees are high. In addition, environmentalists stopped the practice in most countries, including the U.S., because of the danger of spillage and container ships colliding.”
“We could bring container ships into the Gulf of Mexico, right off Galveston Island, and ferry the freight into Houston on barges,” summarized the president, nodding her head with approval. “What’s not to love about that plan?”
Gregg leaned back in his seat and smiled, gloating slightly at his innovative idea.
Chapter 6
December 26
Route 115
Patricia, Texas
Preacher drove the Dodge Ram four-door flatbed work truck, which towed an open trailer behind it. Duncan and Riley rode in the backseat while Chris Slaughter of the Lazy S Ranch accompanied Preacher in the front. They’d made another trip to the Slaughters’ ranch to retrieve additional milking equipment, and their next stop was to retrieve Red Rover, the 1982 Land Rover Defender given to the Rodeo Kids in Montana for the trip back to Texas. After it ran out of diesel fuel, Riley had reluctantly agreed to leave it behind as long as they could return quickly to bring it to the ranch.
“Yessir!” exclaimed Riley from the backseat as he leaned forward between Slaughter and Preacher. “There’s my Landy!”
The rest of the group didn’t share the same enthusiasm as Riley. Duncan handed Slaughter the binoculars as Preacher slowed his approach.
