American Survivalist: RACE WARS OMNIBUS: Seasons 1-5 Of An American Survivalist Series...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  Thirty minutes later found Lu walking a narrow, flat trail nearly a quarter mile west of the cabin to a surprisingly large, albeit dilapidated, barn structure that stood well away from any road and was partially hidden behind a row of tall Hemlock trees. In front of the barn Lu found a wagon attached to a single horse Silas introduced as, Freedom.

  “She’s old like me, but still strong, loyal, and about the smartest horse you’ll ever know. She roams around here during the day and comes back to the barn at night. I raised her mother from a foal and did the same with her.”

  Lu took two careful steps toward the horse which appeared quite content to ignore him entirely.

  “How old is she?”

  Silas continued to check over both horse and wagon.

  “Nineteen.”

  Lu tried to gather enough courage to reach out and touch Freedom’s side but then decided against it.

  “Nineteen…that’s old for a horse?”

  Silas grunted while he leaned down to re-inspect a wheel bearing for a second time.

  “It’s well past young. Like I said though, she’s still healthy and strong and might just outlive me.”

  What Silas didn’t share was how Freedom represented the last living thing both he and Grace had nurtured together and watched grow and mature from a young filly to a beautiful, adult horse. So long as Freedom remained alive and well, Silas felt a part of Grace did too.

  When Lu began to make his way toward the barn entrance, Silas called him back with a tone that suggested Lu best do as he was told.

  “Jump into the wagon, we need to get going if we are to make it back home before night.”

  Lu climbed up into the wagon and sat down on the right side of an age-cracked wooden bench seat. Silas then pulled himself up into the wagon as well and took his place on the left side of the same bench. The wagon was built entirely out of hand-carved wood planks held together by rust-covered iron framing. It creaked and groaned its discontent after Silas took the reigns into his hands and then clicked his tongue to let Freedom know they were ready to have her get the wagon moving toward the long drive that dissected the valley that was the Toms’ ranch property. Lu looked down and noted the same shotgun he had arrived at Silas’s doorstep with was placed alongside a narrow space against the wagon’s side boards.

  “It’s like something out of an old western movie.”

  Silas sat as silent and impassive as the surrounding countryside he had called home since birth. Lu gave a quick glance at the deep lines that accompanied the corners of each of Silas’s eyes, the sharp edges of his whisker-covered cheeks, and the somewhat prominent, proud nose that extended well beyond the often frown-framed mouth.

  He looks as timeless and unrelenting as the hills and valleys of North Dakota.

  It took them nearly an hour just to reach the road that would eventually take them into Fortuna. By then the sun was making its ascent into an awaiting sky with considerably more purpose and Lu was snacking on some of the food Silas had packed for the journey.

  “It’s going to be pretty warm today.”

  Silas said nothing, seeming to ignore Lu’s attempt at small talk.

  After another hour Lu tried again to initiate some conversation. He nodded his head toward the thick, dark grey burlap blanket that covered the back of the wagon.

  “What’s under the blanket?”

  Silas gave a one-word response as he kept his eyes on the road ahead, peering out from underneath a badly faded, light brown cowboy hat that appeared to be as old as he was.

  “Supplies.”

  Lu continued to try and pry a more verbose response out of the reticent rancher.

  “Oh, who are they for?”

  Silas gave a quick, hard glance down at the much smaller Lu and then pointed to a small, green and white sign on the right side of the road that indicated Fortuna was twelve miles ahead.

  “Halfway there…we’re making good time.”

  Lu looked down at the slowly moving wagon wheel to his right and chuckled, the sound of which caused Silas’s thick grey eyebrows to lift upward.

  “Something funny?”

  Lu nodded, happy to have finally made Silas ask a question.

  “Yeah, I’d say your version of making good time is a lot different than mine. I’m a city boy and you’re about as far from that as a person can be.”

  Silas nodded as his mouth threatened a half smile.

  “Mmmmm…I suppose I am.”

  Those were the last words Silas Toms spoke until the wagon passed a second sign that indicated they had arrived at Fortuna. It had been nearly four hours since they left Silas’s cabin.

  Silas pointed to a light blue painted building with a prominent sign that read, Fortuna General Store over the wood-stepped entrance.

  “Is that the place you went in to ask directions to my place?”

  Lu nodded.

  “Yeah, I spoke to the older couple in there…the ones you said were named Fred and Sadie.”

  Silas moved the wagon down Fortuna’s unpaved, dirt-packed main street and then guided Freedom to the front of the little general store. He then eased himself off of the bench seat and onto the ground where he took a moment to stretch the somewhat sore and cramped muscles of his back.

  “Lord have mercy is that really you, Silas Toms?”

  Silas turned to see the smiling face of Sadie Mortel staring back at him from the top of the general store entrance. She looked noticeably older than he recalled, thinner to the point of frailty, and despite the smile, her eyes contained the strain Lu had described to Silas earlier.

  Silas removed the hat from his head and nodded.

  “Hello, Sadie, it’s nice to see you again.”

  Sadie watched Lu jump down from the wagon and then take a position to Silas’s right.

  “I see the young man there found you. I hope you didn’t mind my telling him where you lived, Silas. He seemed sincere enough.”

  Silas nodded again.

  “I don’t mind. How’s Fred doing?”

  Sadie’s smile faded.

  “Oh, he’s inside the store having a rest. It’s…well neither one of us are getting any younger, you know.”

  Silas stood waiting for the invitation he knew Fortuna tradition required, though was slightly surprised, and then concerned, over how long that invitation took. Of even greater concern was Sadie’s unkempt appearance. Strands of grey hair hung out from a loosely tied bun behind her head, and the dark blue flower pattern dress she wore was heavily wrinkled and badly frayed in several places. Finally, Sadie’s smile returned and she motioned the two men to follow her inside.

  “Well, where are my manners? I apologize, Silas. We weren’t expecting to see anyone today. Please come in and let me get you both something to eat.”

  Silas motioned for Lu to follow him into the store. Once inside he was stunned to see the hand-built wood shelves he remembered as a younger man being almost always full of various food and household items, but were now completely barren. He looked down to see the black and white checkered linoleum floor covered in dirt and grime, a condition Sadie would never have allowed before.

  Something was clearly wrong.

  “Fred, we have visitors. It’s Silas Toms and that young gentleman who stopped by here the other day. Come on out to the front!”

  Sadie pointed to the short narrow wooden counter that was adjacent to the check out counter under which were two handcrafted stools made by Fred Mortel when both he and the world seemed a much younger place. Nearly every member of the Fortuna community, both young and old, had sat upon those stools over the years to visit with Fred and Sadie while nibbling upon some treat or sipping from a freshly opened bottle of cola.

  “You two have a seat there. My goodness, I forget how big you truly are, Silas! And that beard! I can’t believe Grace has let you grow it so long!”

  Sadie tried to laugh but the sound came out forced, tired, and completely false. Silas sensed she had neared a breaking
point and that it took every bit of her remaining fortitude to keep up the appearance of normalcy.

  “Grace passed away recently.”

  Sadie appeared mortified at having been so insensitive. She knew of Grace’s long illness and silently cursed herself for not having considered the possibility she had passed on. Before Fred entered the room, Sadie whispered her condolences.

  “I am so sorry, Silas. Grace was…she was truly a special woman. She carried herself with such dignity.”

  Silas’s eyes fell to the floor.

  “Thank you, Sadie. She always thought highly of you and Fred.”

  Sadie offered a quick, pained smile and then did her best to treat Silas as she normally would, knowing sympathy was something the Toms family had never wanted from anyone at anytime. They had always been a proud people of few words, and Silas Toms embodied every bit of that tradition within his incredibly tall, lean and powerful form.

  “Hello there, young man. It’s been a while.”

  Silas tried to hide his shock at seeing Fred Mortel looking so bent and frail. The fact Fred could call Silas young man was a reminder of his many years on earth, but Fred had always appeared indifferent to the passing of time.

  That indifference had come to an abrupt end. Fred Mortel was a very old man, and time was clearly having its cruel way with him.

  “Hello, Fred. I hope our being here is not an inconvenience.”

  Fred winced as he took two slow steps toward Silas and extended a bone-thin, liver-spotted right hand in greeting which Silas then took as gently as possible and shook.

  “Nonsense, Silas! We’re open for business every day of the week but Sunday. You know that. Of course we uh, we don’t really have much inventory at the moment. Haven’t had a delivery in nearly a month - no food, no beverages…nothin’.”

  Silas scanned the store’s bare shelves and then looked down to see Sadie turning her face away as she fought back tears.

  “Well, I have some supplies I brought and I’d be happy to have you take them from me. People around here count on you to provide goods and it wouldn’t be right for me not to try and help out when there’s a need.”

  Fred Mortel tried to straighten the pronounced curve in his spine as he scowled his disapproval.

  “We don’t take charity, Silas Toms. We’ll manage. We always have and we always will.”

  Silas expected Fred to put up a fight and so already had a response prepared.

  “This isn’t charity, Fred. Think of me as a vendor. I fully expect you to pay for the supplies.”

  Sadie intervened before her husband had a chance to put forth a second refusal.

  “That sounds fair enough, Silas. I’m sure Fred would be interested in looking over what you have to offer. Isn’t that right, Freddie?”

  Fred Martel grimaced again as he shifted his weight on feet already in need of rest.

  “Oh, I suppose if it’s business, that’d be ok.”

  Sadie issued her first genuine smile since Silas and Lu had arrived at the store.

  “Could you boys bring what you have inside? I’d rather not have Fred try to navigate the steps.”

  It took Silas and Lu ten minutes to unload the back of the wagon that held several dozen cans of fruits and vegetables, nearly thirty pounds of smoked venison strips, blankets, boxes of bottled water, two forty pound bags of brown rice, two sacks of potatoes, a large canister of ground coffee, ten bottles of aspirin, two emergency medical kits, two portable water purifiers, and a handheld shortwave radio.

  Every trip back into the store by Silas or Lu to unload another box or bag of goods brought Sadie Martel closer to unleashing a torrent of grateful tears. When the last box of canned fruit was placed upon the counter those tears finally came.

  Sadie hugged Lu tightly and then did the same to Silas as she repeated over and over again how thankful she was for their help. Even Fred’s eyes appeared to threaten tears as well.

  “Much obliged, Silas. I’ll pay you its worth – every penny of it. As soon as folks hear we got things to sell again, they’ll make their way here right quick.”

  Silas nodded.

  “I know you will, Fred.”

  With goods to once again stock her store shelves, Sadie Martel was a woman rejuvenated as a hint of her former strong confidence returned.

  “How about you boys take a seat in the back room and I’ll make us some coffee and snacks?”

  Fred appeared happy to have the company as he began to shuffle toward the open door that separated the front of the store from the residential space in the back.

  “Say, you boys ever listen to that fella on the shortwave, the one with the deep voice who seems to know what’s really going on with all this mess out there?”

  Silas glanced at Lu and then gave his reply.

  “Yeah, Lu here seems to think the voice is being modified using some kind of technology. He apparently studied that kind of thing in college.”

  Fred paused to turn around slowly and look Lu up and down and then he grunted more to himself than at the two men behind him.

  “Hmmm, I suppose that’s possible. Well, I record those reports and there was a new one this morning. Since you were on your way here I’m guessing you haven’t heard it yet.”

  Silas shook his head.

  “No, can’t say we have.”

  This seemed to please Fred as he gave a quick smile and nod and then motioned for Silas and Lu to keep following him into the store’s back area.

  “Good, we can rest a spell and have a listen. I think you’ll find it very interesting!”

  Moments later found Silas and Lu sitting in a pair of mismatched steel chairs across a fold out table from Fred Martel who focused on catching his breath and waiting for Sadie’s return.

  “She’ll want to have a listen too. That radio fella is about the only voice besides our own we hear around here anymore!”

  A beaming Sadie entered the small, wood-floored sitting area with a plate of canned peaches, some of the venison jerky, and glasses of water from the community well that serviced the few remaining residents of Fortuna.

  “Here you go! And Silas, I have to say that jerky is absolutely wonderful! Now wait just a second and I’ll be back with the coffee.”

  Both Silas and Lu grabbed a piece of jerky and began tearing off chunks, enjoying the smoky salt flavor. Fred ripped a small piece off with his hands and stuck it into his mouth.

  “I’m gonna have to gum it to death! I’m down to my last few chompers!”

  Sadie returned with coffee cups and a thermos and soon the room filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee which she proceeded to pour into the awaiting cups.

  With a mouthful of jerky and a hot cup of coffee, both Fred and Sadie appeared to be as content as any human being could possibly be. Fred pointed across the room at an old, chipped-wood schoolhouse desk upon which an equally old, grey metallic shortwave radio sat.

  “Sadie, you mind getting the recorder?”

  Sadie smiled at her husband of sixty-two years and crossed the small space and then sat back down with the 1970’s-era pink and blue plastic recorder in her hands.

  “I started recording these a couple weeks ago. You can tell when something is important and I figure what this fella has to say is pretty darn important. I apologize for the volume – I have to turn it all the way up so I can hear it.”

  Fred pressed play and then leaned back in his chair holding his coffee cup in both his hands. Soon Silas and Lu heard the familiar, low voice that had captured their own interest as much as it had Fred’s.

  …Take it back!

  I’ll say it again – take it back!

  The bad is now worse and this time tomorrow there will be no getting better on its way. Not until enough of you are sick and tired of being sick and tired. Not until there are leaders among us prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice.

  Have you noticed all those helicopters buzzing around? That’s the new-age Gestapo, American style. T
hose aren’t piloted by U.S. military. No, the military is plenty distracted by the foreign threats massing along our borders, our waters, our embassies throughout the world.

  Those choppers passing over you throughout the day and all hours of the night represent the absolute tyranny of the monstrosity that is the federal government. The monster is out there, waiting, watching, and picking us off one by one by one. We are no longer the United States of America but rather the Divided States of America. Our division is what weakens us. Our division is what allows them to murder with impunity.