Righteous Sacrifice

by Timothy Van Sickel

Two hours later, after Janie has helped the young boys gather eggs, and Zach has made a security round with Herc, they sit at the large table in the main farmhouse. They make sure that all five of their children are present as well as Mark and Becca.

  * * *

  I have had three days of rest and I feel good. The redness and swelling around my amputated leg that gave the doctors some concern has diminished. I was looking forward to sleeping in, having gotten a very good night’s rest. But my presence for breakfast is demanded so I sit patiently waiting for my fresh scrambled eggs after finishing off the sliced apples with fresh whipped cream.

  Becca is beaming and I know something is afoot. Janie and Zach are acting a bit peculiar too, a bit too attentive maybe. Despite our trials and tragedies, our home has been blessed with great abundance; love, food, and forgiveness are our blessing. Nothing here is completely out of the norm. But something is up. More people are at the table all at once, rather than shifting through in waves.

  I ask that we hold hand and say grace, which we normally do. Zach offers to say this morning’s blessing, thanking God for new life and new beginnings; a short but heart felt prayer. We all begin to dig in to the well served meal when Zach and Janie stand. This is highly unusual and we all look to them.

  Grinning from ear to ear, Zach asks that we all scooch a little bit closer, which we do. He grabs a spare chair that he slides into the open space we have created. “We’re going to need a little more room at the table soon.” Janie announces.

  The room goes silent for a moment, I stop with my forkful of eggs halfway to my mouth. No way.

  “I knew it!” Rebecca exclaims as she rushes over to hug Janie and Zach.

  “You’re going to have a baby!” exclaims young Mark.

  “But how, Mom?” states Rusty. “All the hospitals are all screwed up and the doctors are busy tending to the sick and wounded?”

  “Having a baby has nothing to do with hospitals and doctors sweetie. Having a baby is all about love and God’s plan for us,” Janie replies.

  I am overwhelmed, Becca tears up. The joy of this news brings a state of rejoice to the whole farmstead. The hub bub about Janie’s pregnancy spreads quickly. A few people do clear out early though, concern displayed across their faces.

  * * *

  After finishing my meal, I head down the hall to my old office, which is now the farmstead’s command center and communications hub. Grace is there with my brother Paul, and Buck, the displaced E6 we hired as extra security who has family in Florida.

  I place my hand on Paul’s shoulder comfortingly. “Still searching for word about your kids, huh?” I say, trying to be compassionate, which is not my strong suit.

  He turns to me, tears in his eyes. “I love you Mark, and I am happy for you, but I got three grand kids, and I have no idea how they are doing, if they are even still alive.” He sits down and shakes his head. “I was so proud of my kids moving off and moving out. That two would end up in Texas and one in Seattle, well that’s not a surprise, that’s where the jobs were. They did what they needed to do. Now they are unreachable. I think about them every waking moment.

  “When we are discussing how to power the water and sanitation system, I am thinking of them. When we talk about how to feed everyone, I think about them. When we talk about the threats heading our way, I think about them. When I recall what I have been through, I think about them.

  “Dallas and Seattle, Mark; in the city, where the mayhem will be rampant. They were all in good neighborhoods, but once the food got scarce, what happened to them then? Did thugs come rolling through like they did in my ‘nice’ neighborhood?

  “I fear all of my children are dead, Mark. Well, maybe not Burt. He is a tough man, a survivor. And he bought into prepping too. He had food stored, and guns. If he teamed up with his sister in Dallas, maybe they are out there somewhere, trying to survive. And Burt would have gone to help his sister. I pray that he did.

  “But Lauren in Seattle. They lived day to day. I fear most for them.” Paul shakes his head and more tears roll down his cheeks.

  “I know Grace has been scanning the HAM radio,” I state. “He had a few contacts for you. Any word from them?” Paul shakes his head, grief on his face.

  Grace gives me a poke in my bad leg, getting my attention. “Paul and I set up a monitoring system which helped me focus in on where anyone here might have family. Pap, it’s bad out there. I know you have been trying to tell people how bad it is, but it is even worse than you have been telling them. Paul knows this, more people should. You got to tell people how bad it is pap.”

  “What do you mean, Grayson? What have you not told me?” I ask.

  “Well, you know a week ago we had contact with a guy about three miles from Paul’s kids. Paul talked the guy into giving some canned food to a few local kids to bike over and find his kids.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “The kids never returned and you lost contact with the guy.”

  “That’s not the full story,” Grace responds sheepishly.

  “Three days after the guy sent the kids out, we heard back from him,” Paul mumbles. “He was getting ready to bug out. His neighbors were hounding him for food. The kids must have spilled the beans on his food cache.” Paul begins to sob and cannot continue.

  In a very quiet voice Grace finishes the story. “We heard the shouts. Then banging, then gun fire. We haven’t heard from him since.”

  “The guy and his family died because he tried to help me find my kids,” Paul states meekly, eyes red and tears streaming down his face. “How do I justify that? How do I live with that on my mind? And since then I realize I will probably never see my kids and grandkids again.”

  He stands and shakes his whole body. “I have to let go of that. I have to help this community survive. A man and his family died trying to help me. A man I never met. I have do to everything I can to make sure this community survives, to pay back for what I caused. And maybe if we survive, I might have a chance to go look for my kids.”

  Badzy trots into the room followed by Eve, Paul’s wife. Badzy lies at Paul’s feet and Eve sit next to him.

  She puts his arm around him knowingly. “It’s not your fault, Paul. We’ll keep monitoring. We have that contact with one of Burt’s friends on that big ranch outside of Tyler. Maybe they will show up there.”

  Paul nods, and looks out the window into the distance. “Yeah, maybe they’ll show up there,” he says quietly. He stands and heads for the door, grabbing a 30.06 before heading out. Badzy follows him, knowing he is going for a walk.

  Eve stands and heads back to the kitchen, leaving me, Grace and Buck alone in the control room. I turn to Grace. “What other details haven’t made it into your reports? What do you mean by ‘it’s bad out there.’?”

  “Well, everyone is leaving the cities, like you said. But most of it’s chaos. The gangs are running rampant, and some of them are moving out of the cities too, which has caused a lot of violence in the rural areas. If I scanned the channels right now, some operator will be talking about a major fight taking place. We hear several every day.”

  “What about the government? Is anyone trying to establish a civilian control of anything?” I ask, perplexed.

  “We told you that every place FEMA has tried to set up has been overrun. Some by desperate civilians, more by organized gangs. But like you said, they don’t have enough food for everyone. They could barely handle a minor disaster. They ain’t equipped to handle this.

  “There’s a few areas like us, where people have organized. Like some places in the Rockies, Northern California, and the Appalachians. We can start searching for more secure communities, Pap, maybe we can ally with them?”

  “The young man is right,” Buck states. “I have spent a lot of time in here, hoping to hear something good coming from the Orlando area. The cities are in chaos, there’s no government, and the rural areas are under siege by starvin’ bands of refugees.

  “There is no pretty pictu
re that can be painted,” the battle hardened E6 continues. “Where the food is bountiful is too far away from the people who need it. And there’s no way to bridge the gap. I’ve seen firsthand the battles we’ve fought, right here on this land. Mark, General, if we’re still alive in thirty days, we’ll be lucky. I don’t see how we make it through to next spring. Not that we don’t have the resources to do it, more that someone bigger and stronger is going to come and take us over.

  “From what we have heard, several military bases are hanging on and manning up. Because we have been monitoring for any reference to Texas, we know Fort Hood and Fort Sam Houston have established their own safe enclaves. They seem to be pledging allegiance to the state of Texas and its governor. Same with Fort Sill and other remote bases in the Midwest and Rocky Mountains.”

  “What about the sky cap missions we were seeing.”

  “You don’t see them anymore do you?” Buck states.

  “I have been looking for them, but I haven’t seen one in at least a week,” I reply.

  “They probably were being flown out of Dover, Delaware. They either are running low on fuel our have been overrun, just like your airport. Being so close to high population areas, my guess is they have been overrun.”

  “Mark, when this first hit, I thought it was bad. Hooking up with your team was definitely a good move, but as I have seen this progress, I have become more worried that there is no way out. This is it, the end of our world as we know it. Our little enclave is going to be overrun. There is nothing we can do to stop it.”

  The room is quiet for a few moments. Grace’s eyes are transfixed on the floor. Buck’s eyes bore in on me. I clasp me hands and turn my gaze directly to meet Buck’s eyes. “So we give up? Let the hordes overrun us? Let the farmlands that we have secured just be overrun?” Our eyes meet as I am looking for his conviction.

  Realizing the ball is now squarely in his court, Buck stands up abruptly. “Hell no General! We fight like hell to keep what we got! I didn’t mean it that way.”

  I smile at him and ask him to take a seat. “You know I am a religious man, Buck. And I’m having a hard time dealing with this myself. If you know the old testament, you know that the promised land of Israel would rise and fall depending on the people’s faith in Yahweh, God. I believe this land grew strong because we were founded on biblical principles.

  “We have turned those principles on their head. Good is bad and bad is good. A stay at home mom is bad, but a gay couple is good. Lying is accepted, truth is whatever you want it to be. Money and power are more important than truth and integrity. Even mentioning God makes you a kook.

  “But I know this, Buck. God is about miracles, redemption and love. We will survive, because we love God, and he loves us more than we can comprehend. Many good people are going to die, already have died, but He will be victorious. I plan on fighting for Him to my last breath.”

  “You make strange sense that I can’t argue against,” Buck replies. “We need miracles to survive this chaos, Mark, and I guess if you want miracles, God would be the place to look to.”

  “In a weird way, God does not make any sense, but in other ways, makes complete sense,” I respond.

  Turning to him, I state, “Wherever you are in your faith walk, Buck, it does not matter to me, only you. I need your skills here on the farm, and we need you out in the community helping train and secure the farms we have liberated. Can I count on you for that?”

  “I don’t know God from a pile of dirt, but you can count on me to help wherever I can,” Buck responds.

  I nod and smile. I know a seed has been planted.

  Just then a single shot from a high powered rifle rings outs.

  I see people running to security positions, and Grace starts a security protocol over our local com system.

  Dear Lord, not again! I shout in my head. Has this family and this farmstead not seen enough violence and bloodshed?

  I want to run to the barricade, but my stump leg throbs with the increased blood pressure, so I fall back into the couch. Buck, Daneel, Hairy, Herc and the rest of our security team are on the job. A few minutes later no other shots have been fired and everyone has checked in.

  A thousand thoughts race through my mind. Number one is that a sniper is out there, picking off lone targets. Paul! He went for a walk, dejected, maybe not as alert as he should be. Everyone has checked in but him. He probably didn’t take a com set with him.

  A three man patrol is sent out in the direction of the rifle shot. Five minutes later, we get an all clear signal from Paul who has met up with the patrol.

  “I got a sweet buck, Mark. Wait till you see this trophy!” is the response I get once he is finally located. I want to tear into him about how he sent the compound into a tizzy, but I hold my tongue.

  The patrol helps him drag the big deer to the farm and it is hung in the cool basement of the barn to let the meat age a few days before butchering. Like any hunter, Paul is brimming to tell of his hunt. His distress over his kids once again buried so that he can move forward with the here and now.

  He sits down on the front porch, tinges of blood still on his wrists and forearms from dressing the deer. “You know that big twelve point that we see every once in a while down in the lower draw? Well, I went down that way, I needed to clear my head. I climbed into the stand next to the sweet corn. After I settled in, two doe showed up to my left. On a whim, I rattled, as the rut is full on. This big ten point comes strutting right out of the draw, snorting and prancing! I take a bead on him at about a hundred and twenty yards.

  “I’m about to squeeze the trigger when I hear stomping and thrashing coming from straight ahead of me, so I wait a minute. That big twelve point comes out of the wood line! Mark, that deer is a monster, two hundred and fifty pounds easily. I got two trophy deer fifty yards apart, right in front of me. I stop for a second just to take it all in.

  “These two bad asses square off right in front of me, the two doe watching from a hundred yards away. They crashed three times! The third time they locked up good. And that twelve point drove the ten point back ten yards. It was amazing.”

  “So you took down that big trophy?” I ask, enthused.

  “No, I wanted to, but I let him go. We need good breeder stock. I took the ten point just as he turned to walk away.”

  Mouth agape, I slap my brother’s thigh. “No shit. I don’t know if I could have done that. You are a good man Paul, letting that deer go so I can shoot him after the rut.”

  Paul laughs. “Well, he gets to breed with the does for this rut anyway! Let’s go tell our wives so that they can pretend to be happy for us.”

  Chapter 15, Scouting

  The laurel Highlands

  10/01

  For several days after the meeting discussing our dwindling supply of ammunitions and our need to prepare for long term survival, many options have been proposed. The most important thing that comes up is that we don’t know what is going on out there beyond the mountains, both to the east and to the west. It is decided that we need to start probing beyond our safety zone. HAM radio reports are sketchy and too disperse.

  Captain Albright is to be in charge of probing west beyond Laurel Ridge, into the fertile farmlands of Westmoreland County, an area more productive than ours, but an area that is easily accessed by the two-million people that live in and around the suburbs of Pittsburgh. His objective is to find out what may be heading our way. Have the towns and farms organized, or are they in chaos? Are there large groups of people heading our way? How fast are they moving?

  My son, Zach, formerly an Army Reserve E6, with two combat tours, has been promoted to Captain in the Laurel Highlands Militia and will lead the scouting to the east. His objective is to find a path to the Letterkenny Depot, south of Harrisburg. The route is strewn with small towns similar to Johnstown and Somerset. How are these towns set up? What resources do they have or need? Can we form alliances? Is the military active in the area and who do they repor
t to?

  The missions towards the west, are to be light and fast, able to get out of trouble quickly, because trouble is highly likely. Our initial missions will consist of two four-man teams on dirt bikes and quads. They are to make minimal contact and be vague about where they are from. They will carry small but valuable trade items like lighters, tobacco, ammunition, and MREs.

  The mission to the east is to be more heavily laden. Four farm trucks and four street bikes. The farm trucks are to act as a base of operations while the bikes are to head out in pairs to scout the area. The farm trucks will also carry small amounts of trade goods, mainly food items, to help establish good will with the people that they may meet. One of the trucks will be a technical with an M60 machine gun to aid in getting out of any tight spot.

  Chapter 16, The Bazaar

  West of the Laurel Mountain

  10/01

  “This is bizarre, Jake,” the infantry man says to his companion, Andy as they stroll the makeshift camp of several thousand refugees at the Donegal interchange of the PA turnpike, Interstate 76. It is a peaceful yet chaotic camp.

  Local farmers have food stands and bar-b-que pits set up everywhere and they are doing a brisk business. Many of these stands are recruiting help and security people. The pair of scouts linger at one Bar-b-que pit long enough to hear a farmer recruit six men and their families to help run his farm and provide security. The farmer’s new security crew is armed with a few hunting rifles and shotguns. The farmer lets them know he has several boxes of ammunition for their weapons.

  They pass many stands where women are being offered for almost anything; food, clothing, blankets, ammunition. If you want to pay for sex, it is easily found.

  One large group attracts their attention. Over two hundred people are listening to a woman proclaim Christ’s love for them. Her message is compelling. She preaches love, grace and redemption. She finishes her message with an alter call which attracts several dozen people. The preacher has several of her followers step forward and pray with the newly converted.