She shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said. She set her handgun, a semiautomatic, down on the seat of the ATV. She then reached over and turned the key, and we were plunged into blackness. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It isn’t safe to have lights on, not out here. Our eyes will adjust to the moonlight.”
I finished the honeycomb and licked my fingers and then rubbed them on my jeans. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the light, and I could make out the forms of my new friends. “My name is Gary,” I said. “Do you mind if I ask you how you ended up out here?”
“Not at all,” Cathy said. “But it’s late and Violet needs her sleep. We should be going.”
I gestured to the sleeping bag. “She can crash in there, if she wants,” I said.
“Really? Thanks Gary, that’s very kind of you.”
“No, that’s just what friends do.”
Cathy smiled in the moonlight; it was a pretty smile and the first one I’d seen on her face since she arrived. “Violet,” she said. “Why don’t you go curl up in the sleeping bag? You’ve got to be exhausted. I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go back to the car.”
Violet nodded and wordlessly kissed her mother on the cheek. She then walked over to me and did the same. “Good night,” she said to the both of us.
“Good night, honey,” whispered Cathy.
“Good night, Violet,” I said.
Cathy looked at me and pointed to a nearby picnic table. “Would you mind if we sat over there?” she asked. “I don’t want to keep Violet awake with our conversation.”
I nodded and we walked the thirty or so feet over to the picnic table and sat down. A fire ring sat next to the picnic table, and I wished I could risk a small fire.
“Okay,” Cathy said. “You want to hear my story. Would you mind if I asked you to go first?”
“That’s fine,” I said, wondering how much I should tell her. I decided to go with an abbreviated version of the truth, leaving out the dead bodies and my buried treasure. Cathy listened in silence. “And when I saw the park, I just rode on in. I thought I had the place to myself. Your Violet, she nearly scared the crap out of me.”
Cathy laughed. “And then I came along and did it again,” she said. “I’m so sorry. You were lucky to get away from those people when you did. They won’t last long.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I said. “They were pretty well dug in and fairly organized. I think they’ll be okay.”
Cathy stared at me and shook her head. “No, no they won’t. In the morning, the National Guard is going to fill the sky with drones. Compounds like the one you described will be the first to fall. Those people have no idea of what they’re up against.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“I’m sorry, Gary. I wish I was. When was the last time you turned on a television?”
“Earlier this afternoon, well, technically it was yesterday. Why do you ask?”
“Then you know the government shut down the broadcast?”
I nodded. “That’s what I heard.”
“Well, the Emergency Broadcast System is back up and running. Do you want to know what they’re telling the public to do? They’re asking people to turn in their neighbors. They’re rewarding people who snitch them out with groceries and alcohol.”
I thought about that and shook my head. “But the phones are down,” I said. “Even if someone wanted to turn in their neighbor, how are they supposed to do it?”
“Nine-one-one,” whispered Cathy. “That’s the only number still working. That’s pretty crazy, huh?”
I nodded. “I didn’t see another car all the way out here. I must have ridden ten or fifteen miles. Where is everybody? Are we under martial law?”
Cathy nodded. “Not officially, but they’ve warned people to stay in their homes by saying the roads are full of roaming gangs of hoodlums. I’m pretty sure they’ll be calling for martial law in the morning.”
“You seem to know quite a bit,” I said. “Do you mind if I ask you how you know so much?”
Cathy stared across the table at me and shrugged her shoulders. “Because,” she said. “I’m a soldier in the National Guard.”
I thought about that and shook my head. “Why aren’t you with your unit?” I asked, pointing back to Violet. “Is it because of her?”
“Yes and no,” Cathy said, cryptically. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I belong to an organization called the Oath Keepers. Have you ever heard of us?”
I thought about that. I had heard the name, but I couldn’t place it. I shook my head.
“An Oath Keeper is someone either in the military or police force, people sworn to protect and serve and to uphold the Constitution. We took an oath not to take part in any disarmament of the American people. We swore not to help the government if they ever decided to go to war with the citizens of our country. As you can see, Uncle Sam decided to declare war on its people this afternoon.”
I remembered now and I nodded my head. “I have heard of you,” I said. “But that doesn’t explain why you aren’t with your unit.”
“You don’t understand,” she said. “Who do you think were the first targets in this war?”
“I dunno,” I said, “the Oath Keepers?”
“Exactly. Violet and I were on the way to the grocery store when I got a call from Jane--she’s in the same unit as I am and a good friend. She isn’t an Oath Keeper, but she knew I belonged to the organization. She began by telling me about the drones. She went on to say that our unit had been called up, but to stay away because the first thing the Guard planned to do was to arrest all of the known Oath Keepers for treason. Needless to say, I never reported in.”
“What did you do?”
Cathy laughed. “We drove out here. I didn’t know what else to do. We stayed out here until it got dark out and then I told Violet to stay where she was. I didn’t know what was out there and if anything happened to me, I didn’t want her to get hurt. I’m not a bad mother, Gary, no matter what you may think of me. I love my daughter.”
I held out my hands. “I never thought you were a bad mother.”
“I’m not. I was just trying to protect her. I drove over to my mom’s house and she gave me the lowdown. She said that a group of soldiers had stopped by this morning and asked about me. She told them that Violet and I had gone camping. She said that it didn’t look like they bought it, but what could they do? They hung around for a while and then left. Mom said that she thought they would be back, so I couldn’t stay long. I loaded up some camping gear and what food she could spare and drove back out here. I don’t know what Violet and I are going to do. We can’t hide forever.”
“What about your husband?”
“You mean my ex-husband to-be? I don’t want to talk about him. I’m a single mom and I’m good with it. There isn’t a big market out there for fat women with kids. What about you, Gary? Do you have someone?”
I shook my head. “First of all,” I said. “You’re not fat. You’ll meet someone. And to answer your question: No, I don’t have anyone. Just my family over in Pine City and I told you about them.”
“And you plan to ride out there in the morning?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m going to walk. I figure if I keep at it, I can make it there in two days. You’re welcome to join me.”
Cathy chuckled. “You shouldn’t say that. I might just take you up on that offer.”
“Then why don’t you? We’ll be safe there. At least we’ll have a roof over our heads and good food to eat. You’d really like my folks, they’re good people.”
Cathy was quiet for a minute. “Really?” she asked. “Do you really mean it? I can’t go back to my home and Violet and I don’t have anywhere to go. Not anywhere that’s safe. I could pay you.”
“You will do no such thing. Yes, I really mean it. But I do think that it’s best if we walk. Don’t you?”
Cathy nodded her head, emphatically. “I agree. I have my car parked abou
t half a mile from here in the woods. I’m fine with leaving it right where it is. Would you mind walking there with me and giving me a hand with my gear? If we both go, we can make it in one trip. I hate to ask, you’ve already been so kind.”
I stood up from the table. “Let’s go,” I said. “We should catch some sleep when we get back. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“Thank you so much,” Cathy said, gratefully. “I never got your last name, Gary.”
“Gary Smith,” I said.
“Oh my God, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No, why would I kid about a thing like that?”
“Because… my last name is Smith. Are you sure you’re not just making that up? Did Violet tell you that?”
“Nope, she only gave me your first names. This is weird, not that you’re the first Smith that I’ve met that I’m not related to.”
“I guess it’s not the first time for me, either. But you’re right, it is a little weird. So Mr. Smith, what do you do for work?”
“Work,” I said as we walked along the gravel road. “Shit, I suppose I’ll be fired when I don’t show up on Monday. I work at a large grocery store. I manage the dairy department.”
“That sounds like interesting work,” Cathy said.
“You’re too kind. I think it has to be one of the most boring jobs in the world. The people I work with, they never change. It’s like they live in their own little world. I’ve always been afraid of becoming one of them, but I suppose I already have because it’s the only place I’ve ever worked. I started there when I was still in high school. How about you, Cathy, what do you do for a living?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“I swear I won’t. What could be worse than working with bad eggs and spilled milk?”
“Plenty,” she said. “I drive a garbage truck.”
“Well, you’re the prettiest garbage truck driver that I’ve ever met. Hope you don’t mind me saying that.”
“I don’t mind at all. Thank you for saying so. Actually, it isn’t a bad way to make a living. The trucks do most of the work. There are also some fringe benefits. You should see some of the things that people just throw away. I have a house full of antiques, all courtesy of the people on my route.”
We talked all the way up until we reached the visitor center. The night was quiet and the warm air was absolutely still. Cathy’s car, an old Chrysler K-car, sat parked in the woods on a logging trail about a quarter mile from the entrance to the park. We unloaded her meager supplies, which included a pair of nylon sleeping bags, and we carried them back to the entrance before resuming our conversation. We hauled her gear back to my site and after a brief conversation, Cathy gave me a hug and we bid each other a good night. The sun rose all too soon, but we slept in until almost seven o’clock.
Chapter 5
The morning was clear and bright and it promised to be a warm day. A slight breeze blew out of the west, just enough to keep the biting insects at bay. Cathy had brought a small cooler up from her car, and for breakfast we had ham and cheese sandwiches and potato chips. Violet had a juice box while Cathy and I washed down our food with soda. For dessert, we each had one of the energy bars. We then packed what we could into my backpack and Cathy stuffed the rest into two duffel bags. I started the ATV, and we all piled on and I drove it as far as the entrance. I didn’t want it to be found anywhere near where I had buried the gold.
We were on the road by 8:00. Thankfully, Cathy knew exactly where we were; had I continued east in the same direction I had been going, I would have ended up nearly twenty miles northeast of Pine City. The going was agonizingly slow, but there was a smattering of traffic on the roads, giving the morning a sense of normalcy. We talked about many things as we walked, and I found myself drawn to Cathy. She was both kind and brutally honest, two traits I’m quite fond of. As we walked, I learned she was well read and hoped to someday write the Great American Novel. I then told Violet and her about my dream to someday own a fishing launch on Lake Mille Lacs. Violet barely spoke as we walked. When she did, it was to comment on a passing toad or a pretty butterfly. I resisted the urge to ask Cathy what was wrong with her. I felt that she would tell me when the time was right.
We stuck to the little roads, avoiding the main highways as we walked, even if they provided a shorter route. Cathy insisted upon it. By 10:00 my feet were aching, but I kept my mouth shut. I’m sure their feet were hurting, too. At 11:15 we came upon the tiny enclave of Thistle; we approached it with caution. At the center of town was a tall white church. The carefully preserved church was large for a town of this size and a stunning piece of old world architecture. The parking lot outside the church was filled to capacity. To our surprise, there was a little restaurant across the street from the church and three cars were parked there. An open sign hung in the window.
Cathy stopped in front of the restaurant and nodded. “Can I buy you lunch?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “My treat, I insist.”
“I can’t let you buy us lunch,” said Cathy. “You’ve already done so much for us.”
I unslung my pack and set it down on the asphalt. Cathy watched as I dug down to the bottom and pulled out one of the rolls of cash. I quickly flashed it to her before stuffing it into my jeans. “My treat,” I repeated.
Instead of smiling, Cathy gave me an appraising look. “I had no idea that managing the dairy department at a grocery store paid so well. I guess I’m in the wrong business.”
I laughed. “I recently came into some money,” I said, which was technically true. “Please, allow me to be a gentleman and buy you ladies some lunch. Maybe we can find someone to sell us a few bicycles.”
Cathy nodded, but I could see she was suspicious of how I had come into my bankroll. I picked up my pack and we walked inside. A tinkling bell above the door announced our arrival. There were three older men seated at a lunch counter talking to a heavyset woman in a blue waitress’s uniform. The men turned to face us and their conversation stopped. We set Cathy’s two duffel bags and my pack into an empty booth and sat down in another. The waitress began filling water glasses.
One of the men stood up. He was tall and barrel-chested and looked fifty-ish. He wore blue jeans over a worn pair of cowboy boots and a blue and white checkered shirt. His thick gray hair was slicked back and badly in need of a trim. The man had a square jaw and looked like George Jones in his 70’s-era sideburns. He pulled a toothpick from his mouth as he considered us. “Where you folks heading?” he asked.
Cathy began to turn her head, but I patted her arm. “We’re heading out to my family’s farm,” I said. “Over in Pine City.”
The farmer walked over to the front window and he peered out into the lot. “I never heard you pull up. Where did you park and why did you bring in your luggage?”
“Jack,” said the waitress, “don’t you go scaring off my customers. They look like good people.”
“I asked that boy a question,” he said. “I’m waiting for his answer.”
I stood up to the man and raised my chin. He was taller than I, but I harbored no delusions that I could beat him in a fight. “We’re walking,” I said. “Everything we own is inside those bags. Look, we don’t want any trouble. We just want some lunch and we’ll be on our way.”
“Yeah?” asked the farmer. He looked at me, disapprovingly. “You can’t afford to eat here, son. I’m sorry, but Kim had to raise the prices. Why don’t you run along? We don’t want any trouble, either.”
Kim glared at the farmer, but she held her ground. I reached into my pocket and removed my roll of cash. I held it up for them all to see. “Why don’t you let me decide what we can afford?” I asked. “We’ve been through a lot and we’re hungry.”
The farmer’s eyes flashed in anger and his nostrils flared. He then balled up his fists and started walking towards our booth. “Listen here, you goddamn punk…”
Suddenly, I caught a flash of steel as Cathy jumped to h
er feet. She was holding her semiautomatic pistol and leveled it at the farmer’s chest. “Don’t move!” she ordered. “I swear to God I’ll blow a hole in that pretty blue shirt of yours.”
The farmer froze in his tracks; his eyes grew wide with fear. He held his hands up next to his ears and slowly stepped back. “Put that down,” he said. “There’s no need to get carried away.”
“Seems to me that you were the one who was getting carried away,” said Cathy. “I’m a soldier in the National Guard, and I can promise you nobody messes with my friends. Now, can we see some goddamn menus?”
“Absolutely,” said the waitress, “just as soon as you put that gun away. I don’t want any trouble in here.”
The farmer joined his buddies at the counter and he sat back down. “If you’re a soldier,” he said. “Why aren’t you in uniform? Haven’t you heard? The Governor called up the National Guard yesterday.”
“Oh, I heard,” said Cathy. “He called them up to haul law-abiding citizens to detention camps and to take away their firearms. I’m an Oath Keeper. I swore to never take part in that type of action. Do you have a problem with that?”
The farmer turned to face his friends and whispered something; his buddies began nodding their heads. At first I thought he was ignoring us, but then he turned his head and smiled. “Young lady,” he said. “I most certainly do not have a problem with that. In fact, I’d like to buy you folks some dinner. You can put your gun away, miss. You’re among friends.”
The waitress looked relieved and she smiled as Cathy put her gun back into her bag. “Do you folks like steak?” she asked.
Cathy and I nodded our heads, but Cathy pointed down to Violet, who hadn’t even seemed to notice the confrontation. “Could you fix my daughter a chicken strip basket?” she asked.
The waitress smiled and nodded her head. “Frank,” she called. “Give me two steak dinners and a chicken strip basket!” she then turned to the farmer. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
Stealing Second (The Amendments Book One 1) Page 5
