The Days of Noah: Book One: Conspiracy

by Mark Goodwin

  Noah was deeply concerned. He looked at Isaiah, who appeared to be well aware of everything Benny was saying. His eyes then went to his wife, who was drinking in all the information but also seemed unsurprised. “What can we do?”

  Benny looked down as he took a deep breath. “Not much we can do. You can make it more difficult for your oppressors to track you. You can quit posting updates on Twitter and Facebook and use encrypted email when you absolutely have to communicate online. Keep the battery out of your phone until you have to make a call, pay with cash, and generally try to reduce your electronic footprint.”

  Noah said, “Sounds like a hassle.”

  Benny smiled. “Between convenience, security, and freedom, you can pick two. But you can’t have all three.”

  Noah considered the different combinations of the three attributes Benny offered. “Yeah, I guess convenience should be the lowest priority.”

  He looked at Isaiah. “And what did you mean by being prepared? How can you prepare for a totalitarian regime?”

  Isaiah winked. “You saw my safe. I suspect you have an idea of what I mean by prepared. Of course, it’s more than guns and gold; it’s food storage, community, and skills. I’m looking forward to the Homecoming tomorrow. I’m planning to take notes on some of the exhibitors. Especially blacksmithing and sorghum production.”

  Cassie remarked, “And you’ll have a lovely escort, won’t you?”

  Noah looked away in disbelief that she’d just put Isaiah on the spot like that, but he could still hear the embarrassment in Isaiah’s voice.

  “Indeed, I will,” Isaiah said sheepishly.

  David Ray approached the group, and Noah turned toward him, relieved to be distracted from the somewhat awkward conversation. “Did you try the hazelnut pumpkin pie?”

  Noah pursed his lips. “Bro, who are you talking to?”

  David chuckled. “Oh, yeah. What was I thinking? Did you like the pie better or the pecan bar?”

  Noah put his head in his hand and furrowed his brow as if he were in deep thought. Finally, he looked up. “Are you making me pick? I guess I have to go with the pecan bar.”

  David nodded. “Tough call. Hey, do you guys want to ride out to Clinton with us tomorrow? The girls can keep each other occupied.”

  Noah replied, “Sounds like a good idea. Lacy and Lynette can keep each other entertained as well.”

  Cassie slapped Noah on the arm playfully. “Watch it, mister!”

  Noah tried to fight back a smile. As Cassie walked away, Noah winked at David.

  David shook his head. “You’re a braver man than I am. Why don’t you bring that new rifle over on Saturday morning? We can set up a little shoot-and-scoot course over behind the barn.”

  “That’d be fun. How much ammo should I bring?”

  David said, “I’m going in with a couple of buddies to buy a pallet of sixty-two grain mil-spec ammo. You can have 1,000 rounds out of that for $250. Inflation has pushed ammo sky high; that’s a real deal.”

  “Wow. That is a good deal. I think Cassie paid $150 for 200 rounds when she bought the rifle, and that was the cheapest option available at Tim’s Guns. I’ll take 1,000 rounds.”

  “Should you check with Cassie before you commit?”

  Noah laughed. “No way! She’ll be trying to buy a pallet. In fact, I should go ahead and buy 2,000 rounds if you have enough to spare. That will give us a thousand rounds to train with and another thousand to store. Will they keep well?”

  “Oh, yeah, we’ve got plenty, and the ammo is in metal, thirty-cal ammo cans. The cans have a rubber gasket, which creates an airtight seal. That ammo will last longer than we will. Isaiah is coming by on Saturday as well. I think he’s planning to pick up a few rounds.”

  Noah rubbed his brow as he thought about what a valuable commodity ammunition might be after a collapse. “How much is Isaiah buying?”

  “At least 5,000 rounds,” David replied.

  “Really? How much is on the pallet? I mean, how much do you want to get rid of?”

  David said, “We’d like to sell as much as possible. The pallet we bought has 80,000 rounds. That was a big nut to come up with, but it was such a good deal that I was sure we could get rid of it.”

  “Can I take 5,000 rounds?” Noah asked.

  “Sure. Are you positive you don’t need to ask Cassie?”

  Noah curled one side of his mouth. “My only risk is not buying enough. I’m afraid if I give her the option, we’ll have ammo cans stacked to the ceiling. Did you tell Jim about the deal? I’m sure he’d buy some.”

  David nodded. “He’s buying a pallet for the sheriff’s department. That’s part of how we got such a great buy.”

  “Did he say anything to you about getting ready for hard times ahead?”

  David crossed his arms. “Why do you think we’re buying a pallet of ammo?”

  “Are we doing some type of militia training on Saturday?” Noah asked.

  David paused as if he was crafting his response. “Maybe mutual assistance group is a better name for it. But keep a tight lid on it, especially around Henry Whitaker. Benny doesn’t trust him.”

  “Why don’t we just kick him out of the group? Wouldn’t that be easier than tiptoeing around him?”

  David sighed. “That’s what I said. Benny seems to think if Henry is some type of tattletale, he could serve as a conduit to feed misinformation.”

  Noah looked around to make sure Henry was a good distance away. “What do you think? Is Henry some kind of informant?”

  David shrugged. “Benny thinks he is. Isaiah trusts Benny’s judgment; I guess I do too. Henry works for code enforcement. It’s in his nature to keep an eye on people for the government. That’s pretty much his job description.”

  Noah thought for a moment. “I hate to falsely accuse someone if they’re innocent.”

  David looked at Noah. “Not trusting someone isn’t really accusing them. And the consequences of having an informant in our midst could be detrimental if the stuff your wife talks about ever comes true. I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

  This reasoning seemed sound to Noah. The people from Bible study were putting a lot of stock in what Cassie was saying. It was time for Noah to go all-in as well. “Cassie and I are going to have to share a rifle on Saturday unless one of us can use our shotgun.”

  David replied, “I can lend one of you an extra rifle. You know you can pick up a good AK-47 for less than $1,000, right?”

  Noah said, “That might make a good Christmas present for Cassie. But maybe I should buy another AR so we can use the same ammo.”

  “That’s a valid argument. The good thing about AKs is they’re more resilient. They don’t need as much maintenance, and they can handle tough battle conditions. Rain, dust, dirt, and mud will ruin an AR if you don’t keep that thing super clean and well oiled. An AK will take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.”

  Noah rubbed his chin. “I suppose there is something to be said for diversity.”

  David added, “But if you’re buying it for Cassie, you might want to look around for an AK-74. It’s designed the same as the AK-47, but it uses a smaller round and is quite a bit lighter. The smaller round is similar to a 5.56 round. It makes it easier to shoot and easier to carry more ammo into a battle.”

  “But it looks just like an AK-47?”

  “Skinnier barrel and magazine, but otherwise, yes. Most people probably couldn’t tell them apart at first glance.”

  Noah grinned. “Don’t say anything to Cassie. That’s what she’s getting for Christmas.”

  ***

  The next morning, Noah and the girls were ready to go as soon as the Rays’ minivan pulled into their driveway. Cassie escorted Lacy to the van, and Noah grabbed a small cooler.

  Noah sat in front with David, Cassie and Becky sat in the center seats, and the two girls sat in the rear.

  “Are you driving through Knoxville?” Noah asked.

  David shook his head. �
�No way. We hear all of the Knoxville EMS calls over the radio. That place is getting to be as bad as all the other major cities. We’ll drive out to Emory Road and take that to 441. It’s about ten miles out of the way, but it’s a scenic drive, especially with the leaves changing. We should get there in about an hour.”

  Noah snickered. “And it increases our chances of survival.”

  David nodded. “And then there’s that.”

  Noah sat back in his seat. “Ah, the good old days. Remember when Detroit was the only city in America that looked like a third world country?”

  David looked over at Noah and smiled. “I remember when no cities in America looked like a third world country.

  “What did you bring in the cooler? You know they’ll have all kinds of food out there. Right?”

  Noah opened the cooler and handed David a cold bottle of root beer. “Just a few cold drinks and some water.”

  “Root beer in a glass bottle. Now that’s living it up. Good call, Noah.”

  Noah offered a selection of root beer or cream soda to the girls. Cassie and Becky each took a bottle and passed one back to each of the children.

  They soon arrived at the museum, which was spread out over several acres in the form of cabins, barnyards cordoned off by split rail fences and filled with sheep and goats, barns filled with old farming tools and equipment, and a millhouse for grinding corn powered by a nearby stream.

  “Animals!” Lacy screamed.

  “I want to pet the sheep! Daddy, can we?” Lynette begged.

  David slung his daypack over his shoulder as he exited the vehicle. “First stop, petting zoo.”

  Noah insisted on paying the price of admission for everyone since David had driven.

  David took out his wallet. “Noah, come on. That’s too much. That’s way more than the gas to drive out here.”

  Noah put his hand up. “Your family has done so much to help us – keeping Lacy while we were fighting for custody, tricking out the AR for us, all those magazines. Please let me do this.”

  David shook his head and reluctantly put his wallet back in his pocket. “Where did the girls go?”

  Noah shrugged. “Petting zoo, I’d imagine. I guess we’d better kick it into high gear if we want to keep up.”

  The two men headed toward the animal pens in search of the rest of their party.

  David nudged Noah in the arm. “Is that Isaiah holding Sharon’s hand over there by the quilts?”

  Noah smiled. “That’s him. He said he was coming out today. He wants to take notes on some of the lost skills. He thinks things are going to get pretty tough.”

  David’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Did you know he and Sharon were an item?”

  Noah tipped his head from side to side. “Cassie suspected that they might be. I guess it’s out in the open now.”

  David shook his head. “Or they don’t know anyone is watching. Let’s go over there and bust them.”

  Noah tugged David on the arm. “Let’s go find the girls and leave the lovebirds in peace for a few more sweet moments.”

  David pursed his lips. “You’re no fun at all.”

  Noah and David found the girls at the animal pens. Nearby, there was an exhibit of a farmer preparing the shorn wool for spinning.

  Lacy pulled Noah’s shirt sleeve. “Daddy, does it hurt the sheep when they shave their fur to make wool?”

  Noah patted her on the head. “No, honey. They like it. I think they do it in the summer, so the sheep won’t be so hot. Are we ready to walk around and see some other exhibits?”

  “Okay,” Lacy replied. “Can we come back to the animals if we have time?”

  “Sure thing, honey.” Noah led the way to the next building, which was the blacksmith’s shop.

  Isaiah and Sharon arrived at the blacksmith’s shortly after Noah’s party.

  Noah acted surprised to see them. “Hey, when did you two get here?”

  David looked at Noah. “Yeah, what a shocker.”

  Isaiah replied, “We’ve been here for a while. We wanted to get here early, so we wouldn’t miss anything.”

  Lacy and Lynette looked on in amazement as the blacksmith took a simple piece of metal and fashioned it into a horseshoe.

  After the demonstration, Isaiah took out his notepad and asked the blacksmith several questions about setting up a forge.

  The blacksmith was eager to teach. “Essentially, you need something to hold, heat, and hit your work with. You don’t need a super elaborate forge like this. You can build one out of a few cinder blocks as long as you put in a pipe or some other source to get oxygen in from below the fire. For hitting, you could use a ball-peen hammer, but I’d recommend picking up a cross-peen hammer like this one. For holding my work, I made these tongs out of half-inch rebar. Let me see if I have some in the back.”

  The blacksmith went outside and returned seconds later, holding two lengths of half-inch rebar. He proceeded to hammer out the ends on the anvil to create the surface that would be used to hold a metal object in the intense heat. He heated the next section of the metal rod and hammered out an area where the two bars would meet. “I’ll drill this out while it’s still hot. It’s much harder to drill once the metal cools.”

  Using an old hand drill, he drilled out a hole in each bar. Then he placed a length of quarter-inch round stock in the holes to connect the two bars and hammered the pin on the anvil so that each side flattened out and secured the two arms of the tongs together. In ten minutes, he’d fashioned the pair of tongs. “These are for you. I hope you’ll put them to good use.” He handed the tongs to Isaiah.

  Isaiah took the tongs. “Thank you very much. What do I owe you?”

  “Go home and start blacksmithing. That means more to me than money.”

  Isaiah nodded. “I will.”

  The blacksmith drew on Isaiah’s notebook to show him how to set up a simple forge at home and gave him some notes on getting the fire up to temperature. Isaiah thanked the man again, and the group headed to the chuck wagon, which was serving fried chicken, biscuits, and gravy. Everyone took their food to one of the many picnic tables set up close by for dining.

  After lunch, everyone headed over to watch the sorghum being made. A horse was turning a large pole, which was connected to the cane press. A man fed the sorghum cane into the press, which squeezed out a light green liquid. This liquid was poured into a shallow tub with a fire underneath. The tub created a large surface area, so the water could cook out faster. The woman tending the cook tub kept skimming the greenish foam off as the sorghum cooked. Once the desired thickness and dark brown hue was achieved, the sorghum was ready to be bottled. Isaiah made notes on the production process in his notebook.

  “Do we eat sorghum, daddy?” Lacy asked.

  Noah tousled her hair. “Yes, sweetie, mom uses it for pecan pies. Sometimes I put it on pancakes or even French toast. Folks used to eat it on a biscuit.”

  “Can we put some on a biscuit next time we have them?”

  “Sure, honey,” Noah said.

  Next the group all headed over to the main stage to watch the bluegrass band that was playing.

  Isaiah said to Noah, “I have an old banjo that I used to pick at in college.”

  “You should pull it out and dust it off.”

  Isaiah shook his head. “I could never make it sound like that.”

  “It just takes practice.” Noah leaned in close to whisper, “Besides, I hear chicks like musicians.”

  Isaiah blushed and looked to make sure Sharon wasn’t within earshot. “Maybe I will have to tune it up.”

  Cassie and Becky took the girls over to an area with special activities for kids, while the rest of the group stayed and watched the musical performance.

  Everyone enjoyed themselves immensely. The day was soon over, and they all headed home. Lacy and Lynette were worn out. They fell asleep as soon as they got in the minivan.

  David dropped the Parkers off at their house. “We’ll see
you all on Saturday morning for rifle training, right?”

  “We’ll be there. Thanks for everything.” Noah took his cooler and closed the door of the vehicle.

  CHAPTER 23

  The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

  Psalm 23

  Soon after Everett Carroll got settled at his desk Monday morning, Tom Doe walked by his cubicle.

  “Everett, this is a get-well card for John Jones. He was admitted to the hospital early this morning. Everyone is just jotting down a few words of encouragement. The office is sending him some flowers.”

  Everett fought to hide the pang of emotion that was coming over him. “Oh, sure.”

  Everett took a pen and wrote out a short feel-better wish. He handed the card back to Doe and offered a concerned smile.

  “Thanks.” Tom Doe returned the obligatory smile, took the card and continued to navigate his route through the catacombs of cubicles.

  A deep sorrow rushed through Everett’s stomach. He knew Jones would likely not recover. Everett continued to perform his tasks almost robotically as he thought about his dying friend. I need to get out of here and go see him. Time may be short.

  Everett started going over a few fail-safe excuses to get him out of work early. There were no mission-critical events taking place, and he never left early, so he could afford to take a day, from an office politics point of view.