by P. A. Glaspy
Silas stared wide-eyed at the gun pointed at him. “Uh, yes … yes, I understand. But I don’t know how much help I can be. I don’t even own a gun. I’ve never had a use for one.”
“Well see? Now you do. It’s a dangerous world out there now, Silas. Everybody better have a gun—unless you want to end up dead or worse.”
“What’s worse than dead?” Silas asked, fear apparent in his voice.
Les laughed. “Ending up as somebody’s bitch for one. Plus, how you gonna eat if you can’t shoot deer and rabbits and shit? What, you gonna eat grass?”
Silas eyed the pistol that was still pointed at him. “Do you hunt with that gun?”
“Of course not, you idiot. You use a shotgun or a rifle.”
“So, you fellas have been hunting for your food?” Silas questioned.
Now Ray laughed. “Yeah, you could say that. Huntin’ in abandoned houses, anyway.”
Les joined him in the joke. “And we only had to shoot a couple of stingy old people that had a sweet stash of food. So, don’t think for a second I won’t shoot you, Si. You’re going with us. Let’s get your truck and go hook up with the rest of our crew.” He turned to Doug. “How ‘bout you, bubba? You ready to do this?”
Doug nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, man, I’m in. I got no love loss for anybody in this place or close to it. Let’s go.”
Les grinned. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Let’s roll, fellas!”
****
Alan had alerted the group that an unknown vehicle was approaching. They got behind their trucks and had their weapons drawn. The truck stopped about five hundred feet away. Everyone tensed up. Then Les climbed out of the cab and they relaxed. He waved, got back in and the truck continued toward them. When it reached their location, it stopped and Les and Ray got out with two strangers.
“Who you got with ya, Les? Recruits?” Alan asked.
Les nodded with a grin. “Yep, two new recruits that just happen to know the Warrens.”
Alan’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit? Well this is our lucky day then. What all did you tell them?”
Les reiterated the story, as well as Silas’s reluctance to join the attack. Alan walked over to Silas, put an arm across his shoulders and squeezed tightly. “Just so we’re clear. You’re with us now. We’ll be heading out to that farm at dusk. You’ll be providing intel on what’s inside. Let’s get going. We’re gonna set up a couple of miles from there until then.”
Silas whimpered. “As I told your friend, I haven’t been out there in years. The last time I was there, just a couple of days ago, they wouldn’t let me inside. There were new people there I didn’t recognize. I don’t think I can be of any help to you. I can’t shoot people. I can’t even shoot. Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything. I don’t want any trouble.”
Alan laughed. “Well, that’s too bad, Si. Cuz you’ve got yourself a shit ton of it. Let’s go.”
Chapter 16
War had come to our soil. The UN peacekeepers had, with the current administration’s blessing and backing of DHS, taken control of almost every major city in the country. Los Angeles and San Francisco on the west coast; Chicago in the Midwest; New York City, Boston, and Philadelphia in the northeast; Atlanta and Miami in the southeast; and of course, Washington D.C. They found out, though, that folks outside those cities weren’t so easy to subdue. No, the regular people like us didn’t have tanks or full auto guns—no matter what the liberal media had tried to make people believe in the past— but we had a fierce love of our freedom that we weren’t ready to give up.
They tried the six-man teams going to door to door to confiscate vehicles, food, guns, and ammo, just as we’d heard over the ham that night. They started just outside the bigger cities, with lists of names and addresses. Apparently, a lot of other folks were listening when we were and prepared for it. Older trucks and cars were partially dismantled and dusted to look unused. People were either hiding their supplies in buried caches or meeting the collectors with at least six armed men and women at the door. The message was unmistakable: we won’t give up our guns without a fight. You won’t control us by taking our food and supplies. You won’t make us dependent on you or anyone else for our survival.
The president brought our troops home with the idea that they would assist the UN in gaining control over the populace. Quite the opposite, the men and women of our armed forces rebelled en masse when the order came down, up to and including the top brass. They scattered to the homes of comrades that were close, forming up into units. They brought as much gear as they could carry and set up camps. They kept their comms but used them to hear what the administration was up to, not to communicate with each other. The word spread that our troops had defected, and with bases all over the country, we quickly had a nice militia in place.
With Fort Campbell just a couple of hours north of us, the area was getting good saturation. Some of the soldiers from up there had made it into town looking for family members, who unfortunately hadn’t come home. After talking to Gary, they set up in some of the abandoned family homes and offered their services as security for the town and the surrounding area. Gary told us he accepted immediately.
“These guys show up at my door wearing digital camo fatigues. I opened the door, and one of them said, ‘Good morning, sir. Would you happen to be looking for a few good men? If so, I’m sorry, we’re not the Marines. Would you be interested in a few so-so soldiers?’ They all grinned then and I couldn’t help but laugh.” Gary shared the story with us at the gardens when we inquired about the new muscle he’d brought. “They check in with me every morning, bright and early. They help with firearms training, patrol the town, whatever we need them to do. We can barely get them to take food. They brought cases of MREs with them. Dane, their de facto squad leader, said they don’t want to get soft with home-cooked meals until the fight is over.”
“What fight?” Bob questioned, beating me to it.
“That’s what I asked. He said, ‘The one that’s coming.’ I said, ‘Who with?’ He said, ‘The president, his administration, DHS, the UN—some or all of the above.’ So, I guess what you all heard was true.”
Mike had been talking to the soldiers, who we now knew as Dane, Conner, Evan, John, and Scott. He came over to us, a grim look on his face. “Yep, they were recalled from Afghanistan. They weren’t told anything until they got back to the base. When everyone was home—I mean every troop we have—there was an announcement made by the president himself. He said their services were needed here at home to quell the lawlessness and gain control over the people and the resources they possessed so that we could win the fight against our real enemy.”
I looked at him with confusion. “And who would that be?”
“Apparently whoever set off the EMP—except they aren’t pointing any fingers at anybody. They haven’t said who this alleged enemy is.”
Now Russ got involved. “What are you saying, Mike? Or should I say not saying?”
Mike looked at all of us for a long time. Finally, he replied, “After talking with the fellas, and hearing what the administration didn’t say, I have a guess.”
He paused and we waited. Finally, Bob couldn’t stand it any longer. “Well? What is it?”
He took a deep breath. “I think our government set off the EMP, or some faction of it.”
“What? You’re saying the president ordered this? But why?” Gary was as shocked as the rest of us.
Mike nodded grimly. “To do exactly what they were trying to order our troops to do. Control the people. Take away the guns, make them dependent on the government for basic necessities like food and water, and you have all the control you need. Use the UN to bring everyone in line, then DHS takes over with a contingent of UN soldiers left here permanently to back them up. No more local cops, or sheriffs,” he said motioning to Gary, “or any local or state governments. And they almost did it without firing a shot.”
“How so? I heard the people were fighting ba
ck. We sure in the hell would.” The anger in Bob’s voice was very apparent.
“Yeah, that’s the almost part. The big cities were easy to take. Take out the gangs and the people who were left were so grateful that the government had finally arrived to protect and help them that they opened the door and invited them in. All of our major cities have become police states. Most of the residents have been ushered into FEMA camps. Once they started going outside those places looking for resources, and word spread about how they were doing it, the resistance formed. When the troops found out what they were brought home to do, all hell broke loose. Five-star generals walked out of the announcement meeting, along with all the admirals present. Apparently, the president mistook their oath to protect and defend as a promise to obey his every mandate. Militias are forming up all over the country, staffed with recently active military troops who brought goodies from the bases before the UN troops and DHS could lock them down. When news gets out that our own government is responsible for putting us in this position, we’re going to have a cross between the Revolutionary War and the Civil War. Except this time, it won’t be a few states against the government or the ruling class—it will be all of them.”
My head was spinning. Did I hear that right? Our own government, those duly elected public servants, attacked us in our own land? How could that happen? Something was nagging at me though.
“Mike, how were they able to recall the troops and contact the UN for assistance? The EMP took out the whole power grid, right? Where did they get power to do those things?”
“I can help with that one, Mike.” Scott and crew had joined us in the shade. “While the people have been left to cover their own asses in case of an EMP event, our illustrious government has been preparing for something like this for years. They have huge Faraday cages full of electronic equipment, as well as underground bunkers hardened against a pulse like we experienced. The bunkers are full of vehicles, choppers, even planes, though not a lot. Planes take up a lot of space. But any assets that were deployed are fine. Another reason we were recalled. They wanted the equipment we had with us. At least we took some with us when we parted ways.”
“So, we the people have been relegated to the nineteenth century, by our own leadership, while those in power are sitting in air-conditioned bunkers with hot running water?” My voice raised an octave or three there at the end.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s pretty much it. They never did anything to protect the country, just the government and its assets. Maybe that was by design. That information is above my pay grade.”
I was seeing red, and from the looks on the faces around me, the feeling was mutual all around. Except for the soldiers. They seemed slightly nonchalant about the situation. “Doesn’t this upset you? Why aren’t you guys pissed off like the rest of us?”
Scott gave me a crooked smile. “Because, having served in our country’s military, nothing this administration does or says surprises me anymore, ma’am. Then, we had to do what we were ordered to do. Now, we’re doing what we think is right. Now is better, for me anyway.” His brothers in arms were nodding in agreement.
Dane took a step back, stretched and surveyed the area. “Well, I think we’ll do a perimeter sweep and then head back to town to keep an eye on things while you’re out here, Sheriff. Unless you have something else you need us to do.”
Gary shook his head. “No, that sounds great, fellas. I should be back in a few hours. Thanks again for all your help.”
Dane smiled. “You don’t have to keep thanking us, sir. This is what we’re supposed to do.”
****
We relayed the information we had received from the soldiers to the rest of our group over dinner. Shock, anger, even disappointment were the reactions to the news. Monroe was mad enough to spit nails.
“Those bastards! I ain’t the least bit surprised to hear it but it still makes me madder than a wet hen. Damn government! All they want is power—power over us and over everything we’ve got. And they tried shutting off the power to do it!”
The irony of Monroe’s statement caused a few snickers, but the mood was decidedly sour through the rest of the meal. The Thompson brothers were talking quietly amongst themselves. Matt looked at Monroe resolutely.
“Uncle Monroe, me and Nick are thinkin’ about joining the militia.”
Monroe shook his head. “You can think about it all you want, but you ain’t doing it. Not ’til you’re eighteen. That’s what, six more months for you, Matt? Eighteen months for Nick? I promised your momma if anything happened to them I’d finish raisin’ ya. When you turn eighteen, I reckon I’ll be done.”
Matt looked dejected, Nick even more so. Mike addressed the two teenagers. “Guys, this won’t be like signing up for the service. There’s no big money backing this movement. Supplies are scavenged from abandoned homes and fallen enemy troops, or donated by the people. Our soldiers brought stuff with them, but things like bullets, bandages, uniforms—those are finite resources. Jeeps run out of gas or get flat tires. The other side will have the resources and our people will be trying to find ways to get them. It’s going to get ugly.”
Matt lifted his chin. “That’s alright. It’s worth it for our freedom. I’ll stay and wait for Nick. But when he’s old enough, we go. Until then, we’ll see if we can help the cause by finding some of that stuff for our guys on the front line. We’ll start scavenging the area ASAP.”
Millie had silent tears run down her cheeks. She reached across the table and took Matt’s hand. “Your parents would be so proud of the strong, brave men you are becoming. You will both be great assets to our cause. You’ve grown up so much just since this started, I hardly recognize the two little boys who used to chase my chickens across the yard and tried to practice bull riding on a cow.” We giggled at the image as the boys blushed.
Monroe was cackling. “I plumb forgot about that! That was a sight for sure. Little Nick on old Tess’s back, Matt whackin’ her in the butt with a switch and her just moseyin’ along wondering what the hell was going on.”
Now we were all rolling with laughter. Even Ryan, who seemed to be finding his smile more and more, joined in. Jabbing Nick with his elbow, he grinned and said, “Now that’s a sight I would have liked to have seen. Care to recreate it for us? Only this time, let’s use a real bull. Titan’s been riding every cow on the place; time for him to get rode. Let me go see if I can catch him …”
Nick’s eyes got big, then he realized Ryan was teasing him and he returned the grin. “You first, Ryan.” Ryan threw his head back, laughing hard and loud. Oh my. To see him like that, no sign of the pain and anger on his face, made the day not suck quite as bad.
“I think that’s a great idea, Matt. The scavenging, not the bull riding.” Mike winked as he said it. “I’ll try to catch Dane at the gardens in the next day or so and let him know. I’m sure they are building a network to share information and resources. There will be militia teams everywhere. Nothing will go to waste.”
“What can we do to help, Mike? Surely, we can donate some stuff we have extras of around here. Do we have any idea what supplies are needed?” I asked.
“Since they brought a lot with them, they’ll probably be set for a while, but I’ll ask if there are any immediate needs. The longer this lasts, the greater the need will be for help from the citizens. And just to let everyone know, at some point I’ll be leaving to join the militia as well.”
I didn’t know what to say. Apparently neither did anyone else because silence engulfed the dinner table. Mike was leaving us? He had become such an integral part of our family. Almost every improvement to security had been either his idea or built by him. He had started on the solar and wind setup for power to the house. How could he leave?
Monroe was the voice of reason. “Well, Mike, I can’t say I’m surprised. Our boys will need experienced leaders. I reckon you’d do more good out there than holed up in here. Hell, if I was thirty years younger, I might join ya.”
> Mike looked at Monroe and raised an eyebrow. “Thirty years?”
The older man squinted back at him. “Yeah, smartass. Even close to fifty I coulda kicked some UN ass.”
The tension from Mike’s announcement broken, we began talking amongst ourselves. Russ leaned over to Mike and asked quietly, “How long until you leave?”
“I’m going to finish the power setup for sure. I kind of want to wait and let them get everyone situated first. Dane’s group didn’t find their way here by accident. Along with the assistance they are providing the sheriff, they are scouting the area looking for good spots to set up camps and keeping an eye out for any UN or DHS entities in the area. Being this far from a major city is a plus. It will take them a while to get to everyone in the rural areas. Hopefully by then we’ll have the upper hand. Plus, they apparently have a problem with losing those door-to-door teams.”
Russ looked at him confused. “Losing them? Are they defecting?”
Mike gave him a sly grin. “More like disappearing. They just never make it back. No sign of them, their weapons, their vehicles, nothing. At first, search parties were sent out to find them, but after a couple of those never got back, they stopped looking. I guess they consider them collateral damage.”
Monroe chimed in, “More like pig food somewhere. Nice of them fellas to donate their guns to the cause though.”
Sara looked at Lee. “Pig food?”
Lee shook his head at her. “You don’t want to know.”
****
After Mike talked to Dane, we started gathering clothes and boots, sheets and blankets, and we set aside some ammo. It wasn’t a lot, since we didn’t want our own stores to be depleted but we also had reloading equipment and supplies. Russ told Mike if the guys would police their brass and bring it to us, we would reload as long as we had the stuff to do it. They said they’d be happy to do it.
