Liberty or Tyranny

by John Grit

  “I just want to apologize.”

  “This might be a mistake. I doubt she’s the kind to accept your apology with grace.”

  “I owe her that.”

  “You don’t owe her a chance to attack you and call you a murderer again. It was an accident. It would’ve happened no matter who was driving. The little boy ran out from between two cars and there was no way anyone could’ve seen him from behind the wheel of that big truck. Brian told me the only reason he saw the boy was because he was on the passenger side and happened to be looking that way when he ran out into the road. If Kendell or Brian had been driving, they would never have seen the little boy either. They’re both a lot shorter than you and would’ve seen even less.”

  Nate rubbed his forehead and looked inward. “I wasn’t thinking straight that day.”

  “Yeah, you were recovering from a head wound. But if one of the boys was driving it would have changed nothing. The mother should have never let her little boy play in the street.”

  “I guess it may do more harm than good.” He looked at the house, half excepting the mother to come charging out the front door with a shotgun in her hands, screaming about how he had murdered her child.

  “That’s certainly possible,” Deni said. “Especially if she goes into a rage on you. That would do neither of you any good.”

  “I just don’t want her to think I’ve forgotten her little boy, like I just ran over a squirrel or something.”

  “I don’t know what she thinks. I do know it’s time for you to let it go.”

  His thoughts struggling with his conscience, Nate sat there in silence. He looked down the street, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular. “It’s not something you just let go.” Turning to look at the house one more time, he said, “But you’ve talked me out of bothering her. Take me to Donovan, so I can tell him about the murder and ask why food rations have been cut.”

  Deni put the Humvee in gear. “It was nothing more than an accident. If you didn’t feel bad about it, you wouldn’t be you. But it was still an accident.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go. It can’t be undone and there are other tragedies to avert – if possible.”

  ~~~

  Deni pulled up to the entrance of the Army FOB (Forward Operations Base) in the middle of what was the county fairground, just outside of the downtown area. Two-ton concrete blocks and anything else that would prevent car bombs and other vehicles from getting within 300 yards of the inner fence had been lined along the outer perimeter. Soldiers armed with M4s kept watch from behind sandbagged guard posts. Every tenth soldier was armed with a squad automatic weapon. The downtown area was looking more like a war zone every day. Most civilians believed it was a sensible response to the many months of lawlessness and the various radical groups that had emerged recently, but a few were becoming more and more uneasy with the Army and what they were learning about the new government in Washington.

  Lieutenant Colonel Mike Donovan met them at the security gate. He appeared more harassed than the last time they spoke to him. He motioned with his left arm. “Come on to my office. We need to talk.”

  “That’s what we’re here for,” Nate said.

  Donovan spoke over his shoulder as he stepped into a small building his men had hastily assembled from portable storage containers lifted in by helicopter. The meager bullet-stopping ability of the thin sheet metal had been reinforced with sandbags.

  “Your new accommodations aren’t as comfortable as the last place,” Nate observed.

  “The threat level has increased.” Donovan sat behind his desk. “The Army and Guard both have been under attack in Miami, Orlando, Atlanta – all over the country.” He motioned to steel folding chairs in front of his desk. “Some of it is radical groups, but in the cities most of it is mob anger at everything government. They just can’t understand why things haven’t gotten better by now.” He leaned forward and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “They’re hungry. I guess you can’t blame people for not thinking straight after all they’ve been through, but killing soldiers will not be tolerated.” He looked up at them with tired eyes. “To make matters worse, Washington and the Pentagon have become institutions for the insane.”

  “Weren’t they always?” Deni quipped.

  Nate noticed Donovan’s freckled face was nearly as red as his hair and he appeared to be angry as much as exhausted. “You look like I feel. Except I’m dealing with local idiots.”

  Donovan raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well. Uh.” He looked up at the ceiling for a second, perhaps to get a better grasp on his temper. “The powers that be have stepped up their demands for results and cut food rations to soldiers in the field. I guess they think if we soldiers are hungry we’ll be more willing to get rough with the people and demand they give up ‘their fair share’ of any crops they have raised.” He slumped in his chair. “We’re in the middle of another freakishly cold and long winter and these idiots want me to take what little food the local people have. Doesn’t Washington realize that if people are forced to choose between starving and dying from lead poisoning they’ll choose the latter? What do they want, a damn civil war?”

  “I expect that’s exactly what they’re afraid of,” Nate answered. “I bet people have been starving in the cities since not long after the plague hit. Food production and shipments came to a halt surprisingly fast, and city people are a lot less self-sufficient than rural people. I remember the early news reports, before the power went out. All of the stores were empty in less than a week. The level of violence is certainly much higher in the cities, also.”

  Deni added, “As all of us have witnessed over the last year, desperate people do desperate things.”

  “Well, they’re about to get more desperate around here.” Donovan looked at Deni as he talked. He had something on his mind.

  “What?” Deni asked.

  He smiled. “Get lost, that’s what. You two get married and get out of town. Head for the sticks. It’s about to hit the fan around here, and there’s no reason for you to be around when it does. You have no official duties, anyway. To hell with the formalities. Turn in the rest of your gear and get out of town before it gets bad.”

  “Wow.” Deni’s eyes flashed to Nate and back to Donovan. “They must really be putting pressure on you to send food, no matter how rough you have to get with the locals.”

  Donovan grew grim. “Don’t tell me you two haven’t talked about getting out before your two weeks are up. Go ahead. I’ll okay it.”

  Deni sat up straight in her chair. “Well, before you get rid of us, tell us what’s going on.”

  Donovan rubbed the back of his neck. “Everything I feared Washington would do over the next few months is already in play.” He shook his head. “They just promoted me and already they’re threatening to relieve me of my command if I can’t gather up at least five truckloads of produce and meat within a week.” He threw his arms into the air. “What the hell are a few truckloads of food going to do for the country? The country needs more people willing to get off their ass and work the fields. Forcibly taking food from those who work will discourage others from following their lead. Why bother if you’re going to go hungry anyway?”

  “How are they going to get semis up the interstate highways?” Nate asked. “Have they been cleared of all those abandoned vehicles?”

  Donovan’s face lightened up a bit. “They tell me the highways will be cleared soon. I doubt it, but that’s what they claim. The Army did get fuel tankers through a while back, but only by using bulldozers to push everything out of the way, clearing one south-bound lane. And that was only between here and Fort Benning. It took months.”

  Nate had an idea. “Did they specify what kind of meat and produce?”

  Donovan crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “What do you have in mind?”

  “We might be able to buy you some time. They’re having problems at the new farm with wild hogs tearing the fields up. Some of the
men have built traps and are harvesting a dozen or more hogs a night. They’ve been butchering them and handing out the meat, but I think we can talk them into giving you a few dozen of the older, less palatable boars. The meat is really gamey, but it will fill stomachs. They could also spare some trash fish. It’s edible, but not tasty. As for produce, there’s 500 acres of potatoes being harvested 12 miles east of town. I’m sure you could make a trade with the farmer. Maybe some diesel fuel or something. Also, there are some greenhouse-grown tomatoes, green beans, cabbage, and other stuff, but people will be reluctant to let that go. Production capacity is limited in small greenhouses and this extreme winter cold has limited open field production drastically. An overnight freeze can wipe out a whole crop. Even so, some people have been producing onions in decent amounts. You might get a little of that without resorting to taking it at gunpoint.”

  Donovan scribbled on a notepad. “That would help, but it will not hold them for long.”

  The expression on Nate’s face changed. “I just remembered the beet farmer southwest of town. Beets are something people will be willing to part with by the truckload, and there’s plenty of it. Beets are easy to grow. You should be able to get several semi loads for a little fuel or something else the family needs.”

  Donovan added to his notes. “A few truckloads of beets and hogs may satisfy them well enough I might not have to bother with the other produce much. I might be able to convince them the extreme weather has prevented most other crops from surviving long enough to be harvested. That would be the unfortunate truth, anyway.” Donovan’s face hardened. “But no matter how much time this buys, sooner or later the order to use force will come down.” He shook his head. “I will not order soldiers to rob Americans of food they toiled in the fields for, and I will not order soldiers to fire on peaceful civilians.”

  “I’m sorry you’re in this terrible position,” Nate said. “You’re doing the best you can, but someday soon your conscience is going to get you in trouble.”

  Donovan shrugged. “No one alive today is without his problems, including those in Washington.”

  Nate nodded. “And the way they’re trying to solve one problem is just going to cause a hundred more. There’s still no government at the local and state level, at least in our part of the country, and Washington’s control of things is tenuous at best. They need to think before they go too far and lose what control they have over what’s left of the American population. If that happens, there may not be a United States of America. A few years from now, when the survivors have organized locally and regionally, we may have five or six countries, instead of one.”

  “Anything’s possible,” Donovan agreed. “If our enemies abroad were not in worse shape than we are, we might be facing an invasion already. We finally managed to deal with Mexico and their claims on the Southwest. It was a bloody job, but we beat – rather shot – them back to Mexico. Certainly, America hasn’t been this weak and vulnerable to military attack since our earliest days as a young nation.” He got up from his chair. “But right now, starvation is the most immediate danger.” Showing them to the door, he said, “You two should really think about leaving town as soon as possible. I could be relieved of command any day, and my replacement might be as crazy as the man I replaced. Get out while you can.”

  Nate stopped before reaching the door. “We wanted to tell you about the murder of a woman that took place this morning. We were forced to kill the suspect in a gunfight.”

  “I have someone on scene talking to witnesses.” Donovan spoke to a soldier waiting outside the storage container that was his office. “Escort them to the gate.”

  Nate stopped in front of Donovan. They shook hands. “I have a feeling we might not see you again.”

  Donovan tried to smile. “You’re probably right – if all goes well and you follow my advice. But I’m not going anywhere. Not until they send someone to get me.”

  Deni blinked tears. “I feel like I’m deserting you.”

  Donovan shook his head. “Don’t. You’re a civilian now. Go be a civilian. Hell, don’t bother with turning in your gear. Keep it. Go find a place to wait out the storm.” He turned and closed the door behind him.

  Nate and Deni got into the Humvee. As she drove away, she started to speak several times but stopped.

  “I know,” Nate said. “Donovan’s a good man caught between a rock and a hard place. The fact is, though, his problems with higher-ups in the Pentagon and Washington are his fight, not ours.”

  Deni clenched her jaw. “You’re right. There’s nothing we can do to help him or the people here.”

  Nate looked out his window. “That’s what I keep telling myself.”

  She glanced his way and back to the road ahead. “What about leaving town tonight?”

  He turned and gave her his full attention. “We’re not married yet. Also, I would like to see Chesty buried before we leave. We should talk to a preacher tomorrow, though. Certainly, we need to be ready to leave this town behind us soon.”

  “Yeah. How do you feel about that?” she asked.

  “Terrible. I don’t like leaving Donovan with this mess, and I don’t like abandoning the people here. But I usually let my mind do my thinking, not my feelings. My mind tells me there is nothing the two of us can do to change whatever is going to become of Donovan and the people of this little town. My main goal from the beginning has been to keep Brian alive. Lately, I’ve gotten off course. Some things have changed. You for example. But keeping Brian – and you – alive is still my main goal.” He thought of a black teen he had taken under his wing and friends he had met over the last year. “I doubt Kendell will be willing to leave the orphaned kids at Mrs. MacKay’s farm for any length of time, so he’ll probably decide to stay there with the children. I don’t know about Caroline. She may want to stay at the farm too. Whether they come with us or not, my days of trying to help everyone I come across are over. I can’t save the world.”

  She looked straight ahead and gripped the steering wheel tight. “I agree, but have my doubts you’ll be able to live by those words.”

  Nate jerked his head around and stared at her for several seconds. He started to speak of how seeing Brian close to death had cured him of getting involved with others’ troubles, but stopped himself.

  Chapter 2

  That night, a cold front charged down from the north, blown in by powerful winds. Heavy rain pounded on a window on the other end of the bedroom, and cold penetrated the thin wool blanket Nate had over him. He lay there shivering and looked around the dark room. But it wasn’t the cold that had awakened him. Thunder? Or was it gunfire?

  It was then he realized for the first time he had already reached for the Kimber 1911 that he kept on the nightstand beside the bed. It was in his right hand, his thumb on the safety and muzzle pointed at the window.

  His sleeping bag was tied to his backpack in the closet. It offered warmth the thin blanket couldn’t, so he tossed the blanket aside and sat up in bed.

  Thinking of his son Brian and Kendell, he got up to search the house for more blankets to bring to them. Kendell was in another bedroom. Brian had insisted on sleeping on the living room floor behind a couch, his rifle beside him, saying something about how the terrorists, who for some crazy reason feared the rebuilding of society and were willing to kill to stop it, wouldn’t expect anyone to be sleeping on the floor. Considering the fact a close friend had just been murdered in bed, Nate couldn’t argue against his son’s precaution. In some ways, things were getting better, but they still lived in a deadly, lawless world. He would never argue against putting safety first. Sleeping on the floor wouldn’t hurt him, and forgoing the comfort of a bed for added safety made sense.

  Nate found Brian already awake in his sleeping bag, unzipped so he could get out fast and grab his rifle that lay next to him. He sat up. “What? Did you hear something?”

  “I’m getting a blanket for Kendell,” Nate whispered. He went on to the room Kende
ll slept in and found him looking up, his rifle in his hands.

  “Trouble?” Kendell asked.

  “No.” Nate dropped two blankets beside him. “I brought you these. Go back to sleep. There’s nobody around, as near as I can tell.”

  Kendell ignored the blankets. “I thought I heard a shot a few minutes ago.”

  Nate hesitated for a moment. “I think it was thunder.” He left the room and checked the front and back doors, peering out into the rainy night through every window, one at a time, his pistol in his hand. Then he went back to bed and slept fitfully, wishing Deni had not insisted on staying at the Army base one more night to learn what she could about what the Army was up to.

  When dawn broke, he got up to put his boots on, first putting on the thickest wool socks he had. He glanced at his dead friend Chesty’s badge on the nightstand, just before slipping it into his jacket pocket. The thought came to him that he should not bother carrying it. Why pretend he was something he wasn’t? He was no lawman. He was a vigilante, plain and simple. Tyrone was the only one in town who had been a real lawman (a deputy) before the plague killed most of the human population around the world. Chesty had been town marshal before everything went to hell, but he was dead.

  The void Chesty had left behind – the town people’s need for law and protection – had to be filled by someone. Nate knew that it wasn’t him. He had planned to do what he could until Deni got out of the Army, but he was becoming ever more convinced they needed to get out of town soon and not wait. Donovan gave her permission to leave as soon as possible, and he felt she should not turn down the offer. The people would have to find another sheriff. Tyrone was certainly the man for the job, the only man. He would need help, but it was time for others to step up and carry some of the load. He still remembered the look on Deni’s face the night he agreed to carry Chesty’s badge. At that moment, he had decided that two weeks was all they were going to get of him. No matter what might happen, he was going to marry Deni and they were going back to the farm. “Sorry,” he said to no one, “but even two weeks is too long.”