by G. R. Carter
Even with the total collapse of the city, humans were resilient like rats. The thought of just 5% of the populace surviving the carnage then heading towards the Okaw Valley gave Alex nightmares. The size of the horde and what the survivors must be like were unthinkable.
Outside of those new nations, the only other organized group they made some contact with was the Great Lakes Republic. The GLR consisted of small communities stretching from the Dakotas all the way through what were once Minnesota and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Instead of a proper state, they were really just a common defense and non–aggression pact. Unfortunately, they were involved in a brutal war of extermination with the Muslim communities of the old Minneapolis and Detroit areas. The Muslims considered the collapse of civilization to harken the coming of the 12th Imam, and embarked on a jihad to establish a North American Caliphate. Most in those communities were first or second generation immigrants to the old America. Originating from parts of the world lacking modern conveniences, no electricity and little communication wasn’t a big adjustment for them. With a high birth rate and strong societal discipline they eventually overwhelmed any pockets of resistance. Farmers, woodsmen and hunters could kill the jihadi three or four to one, but the GLR was simply running out of men. The only hope the GLR had was to combine forces and rally around the Catholic–Lutheran Convocation calling for unity and a return to the ways of their ancestors. Sources told the Founders a unified faith much like the one Father Steve and Pastor Hart were forming was gaining ground, but it probably wouldn’t be soon enough.
GLR’s only real allies lay to their western borders. A family named Rawles led a group of survivors in the old Idaho and Montana territories. Word was the group didn’t have a lot of population, but were well armed and well fed. Rawles trained his people well and together they formed a government structure similar to the old American Constitution. The GLR people that Alex spoke with didn’t know if Rawles would affiliate with New America, though from the sound of it Idaho territory didn’t have much in common with the Grays beside the flag they both claimed.
Great Hall dinner conversation often focused on what would happen when all these forces collided, but Alex hoped out loud that the bad guys would run out of people long before the good guys got run over.
“Deep in thought again, esteemed heir of the Founder?” Sam smirked at Alex as he finally plopped down in a chair beside his big brother.
“No, just disappointed that you weren’t my harem and servants. It’s time for my hourly sponge bath,” Alex replied sarcastically.
“That’s a disturbing thought, brother. In this cold barn? The water would freeze long before they were able to get your stinky self clean. Why is it the King’s son sits in the cold when heat is available to him?” Sam asked, this time attempting an English accent for affect.
“Dad would punch you if he heard you call him that four-letter word.”
“That’s why I only do it around you, big bro. Just to remind you how we little people think of your royal self. And what our sons and daughters might start thinking, too.”
Alex laughed. “All hypothetical if we don’t survive. We’re one big attack away from being crushed or starved out. What if we lose a harvest? Just feels like we’re at a constant sprint to stay even.”
Sam gave a thousand-watt smile, “Oh ye of little faith, Prince Alexander! We just have to trust the Big C has a plan for that. Besides, you would feel a lot better if you visited the Wizards once in a while. You should see what they’re working on; we’re going to have our own Air Force!”
“Great, maybe we can use that to fly on vacation where it’s warm,” Alex huffed.
“No, man, I’m serious. Getting the Air National Guard base in Decatur was a gold mine. They found all kinds of serviceable airplanes we can shield from the Solar Storms. And after a blinding flash of the obvious, they found thirteen crop dusters sitting in hangars around the county. We’re looking for more now,” Sam assured him.
“That’s great, Sammy,” Alex replied. “But I don’t see how that helps our defenses. Besides, I thought all planes were useless because of the Solar Storms knocking out the electronics.”
“Those crop dusters were called flying tractors. They’re low-tech, no computers, and super stable at low speeds and low altitudes. The Wizards are fitting up the new 20-millimeter cannons they copied from the Archives. So our Mark 3 tanks will have air support, and before long we’ll have advance scouting!” Sam exclaimed.
The weight of Sam’s announcement sunk in. “Unbelievable! That could tilt the balance of power to keep the Grays honest. Or at least hold them off long enough to get the Mark 3s out in big enough numbers. With the two of them, they’d be crazy to mess with us!” Alex exclaimed.
“What if the Grays get some too?” Sam asked, suddenly concerned.
“I don’t think it’s likely. The Ten Vets have friends still in working for the Grays. Seems like all New America knows how to do is assimilate. They just keep relentlessly repeating the formula as they move north and east. It’s worked for them to expand their power. But there doesn’t seem to be a lot of originality in their thought process. And they certainly don’t have the Wizards!”
Sam smiled, “I’m going to keep one here.”
“One what?”
“One of those attack planes. I’m going to learn to fly it, while you’re learning to drive a Mark 3. Someone has to keep an eye on you! I’ll fly over watch, keep you from getting blasted by the Grays,” Sam teased.
Sam shook his head and continued: “When Dad heard about the idea of an air force, he started singing some song called Dreams. ‘Higher and higher, straight up we climb’ or something like that. The old farts all got a kick out of the song, like we’re supposed to all get the joke. Old people are so weird.”
“Shouldn’t all the planes be kept together? For defense purposes?” Alex asked seriously.
“Naw, a few here and a few there. We’re building more anyway, and I want to lead the air force someday. That OK with you? I can do that and run Schoolhouse Hill at the same time, no problem. We’re going to keep the planes spread out on the farms for patrol purposes. If it comes to a big battle with the Grays we’ll all get called up anyway. Hey, what do you think of calling the new planes Raptors?” Sam asked.
“Sounds good, I guess it keeps with the hawk theme, huh?
Sam replied, “Yeah, I just think that relates a lot better to who we are. I mean, we’ve got allies all over now, and no one even remembers where the old county lines were. The SDC name still means a lot to Mom and Dad and Uncle Clark, but we’re so much more. And the hawk symbolizes our home a lot more than the eagle did.”
“Don’t say it like that, or they’ll all freak out on you. You know they still think we’re still Americans. Like magically they’ll put the old country back together again someday. I keep trying to tell them all they have to do is surrender to the Grays and they’ll get their wish,” Alex laughed.
Sam got his smile back. “Well, you keep them safe, and I’ll keep their bellies full, most regal of princes!”
“Speaking of,” Alex shot back, “why don’t you go get me some lunch, super farmer.”
“Can’t,” Sam said shaking his head. “I don’t want to take that job away from your harem. Knowing our roles, and all that.”
Sam turned to walk out of the room and down the stairs.
“Hey Sammy,” Alex shouted over his shoulder. “I love you.”
“You too, bro.”
Chapter Nine – Shield of the Okaw
Headquarters – Okaw Valley Self Defense Cooperative
Two Years after the Great Reset
Martin Fredericks walked through the marble and limestone hallways of what had once been a rural county courthouse. Pictures of the county’s original settlers, along with now faded paintings reflecting farm life of nearly two hundred ago, constructed a timeline to the here and now. Martin wondered how these paintings would seem modern to upcoming generation
s. One catastrophe after another had brought “modern” society back to the same place this area started from well over a century ago. These old paintings reflected their current lives as much as the past; electronic connections with the outside world would soon seem like some kind of myth. Once again, all anyone would know was a connection to their neighbors and to the land.
A clop, clop echo bounced off the stone stairs towards the meeting areas set up on the second floor. Fredericks lost count of how many times he had already trudged up these stairs. Who would have thought it…I miss escalators.
He passed under the centuries-old dark wood doorway into the main conference room wondering what this morning’s meeting would bring. Windows lined one entire wall of the long space, while maps of surrounding counties covered the other walls. People who met here took responsibility for the people of the countryside, not some political boundaries drawn in a bygone era. Referencing geography simply allowed planners a better grasp of the struggles faced in protecting the settlers.
Other communities outside the original Shelby County lines petitioned for and were granted acceptance to the SDC. With the total breakdown of any formal government structure, small towns and farms from all over were pleading to join. The SDC offered a safety in numbers, however theoretical that might be right now. At least folks could feel like they were no longer alone when raising the Greenfield Shield, as the SDC’s flag had become known. Plus, the Okaw offered fair trade for the biofuel being created by their refineries as well as expertise in fortifying against the Ditchmen that still plagued civilized outposts.
The people of Okaw Valley treated Fredericks and the Ten Vets, like their own children returned home after a long absence. Each man and woman settled into responsibilities in their adopted communities around the county. Soldiering had been their profession, thus each had been assimilated into the planning and implementation of the county defenses.
Two of the original Ten Vets had now moved on with the blessing of Founder Hamilton and Sheriff Olsen. One of the soldiers had family down further south in Little Egypt, in what was once again coal and timber country. The other man choosing to leave had family in the former Regional Capital of Chicago, and was determined to get there to rescue them. No one really held out hope that his family remained alive; certainly everyone respected why he felt it necessary to try. That left eight to help build defenses for ten thousand people in an area covering over a thousand square miles.
Fredericks was a welcome addition to Hamilton and Olsen’s inner circle. His help with immediate security concerns and long term strategic planning gave the leaders a hard earned perspective on defense. Plus, Fredericks’ recommendations to the Wizards led to dramatic improvement in the capabilities of the Snapping Turtles.
Fredericks suggested semi–truck running gear replace the pickup truck chassis previously used. Semis were nearly as prevalent in farm country as pickup trucks, and few were being used since interstate commerce was non–existent. The Wizards quickly figured out that moving the semi’s huge diesel engine from the front of the frame to the middle added balance to the heavier vehicle. The driver’s compartment went in front of the engine instead of above, lowering the profile and the center of gravity. Behind the engine, a large armored cargo area that could hold six to eight fully armed SDC deputies or militia. The cargo area was topped with a hatch allowing a gunner to swing a mounted heavy weapon in a 360-degree radius, all while protected by a curved steel shield.
Improvement of the Snapping Turtles allowed the armored bulldozers known as Mark 2s to focus on farm protection. The huge lumbering beasts were instrumental in the victory of SDC forces capturing Decatur, but the tracked dozers were just too slow to patrol and there was more ground to cover each week. Increases in fuel and food production required more equipment to service more acres, and the Mark 2s were welcome on the farms due to their dual purpose.
Amidst his thoughts, Fredericks finally arrived at the conference room door. As usual, Phil and Olsen were already seated with coffee in hand. Fredericks wasn’t sure how much sleep these two got, but both clearly had aged a lot since he met them.
“Glad you could join us, General,” Olsen joked groggily.
“A general has to have an army, just like a sheriff has to have deputies. I’ve seen your deputies, but I can’t seem to find my army,” Fredericks replied, continuing a running joke amongst them all. “You could call a bunch of farmers a Self Defense Cooperative, but you have to be able to get them all together in the same place before you can use them that way.” To himself: And I for sure never wanted to be a General.
“I’ve got the duty roster and the equipment requirements for the convoy to Old Main College. This is the largest group we’ve ever sortied, so I really wanted to run it by you both,” Fredericks said, changing to a more serious subject. “We’ll need to make sure to take plenty of our own food; I’m not sure how much they would like to feed our troops for three days.”
“Well, they’re just as good at food production as we are, albeit in a different way. But I suppose you’re right,” Phil said as he worked a second cup of what passed for coffee.
Old Main College was the biggest outpost of civilization anywhere close to Okaw Valley. Once each side figured out the other meant the best for their people, trust between the two developed quickly. Phil made the still-dangerous forty-five-mile trip twice to meet with College President Julia Ruff, and she spoke for not only the college but what was left of the town surrounding the campus. Most of the townspeople now lived at the college anyway, so logistically it worked.
Phil continued, “Julia said that with all we’re contributing, they’d be happy to provide rations for our troops, but I know I’ll get sick of those cereal bars they have.” The three had all been to Old Main, and the others knew immediately what he was talking about.
“Commander, what does Old Main College have in way of defenses?” Olsen asked, looking more tired and aged by the moment.
“They have a lot of people available, almost as many as us and less spread out. But very little military discipline. Their campus police chief has organized enough to respond to problems around the part of the town they still occupy. That’s mostly just the college campus itself. Of course, they don’t have hundreds of square miles to defend like we do. I believe once they get the walls constructed around the main buildings, they’ll be able to defend against any Ditchmen problems with just a couple hundred front line troops.
“We’ve got their Technical College faculty helping produce Turtles and Mark 2s at their workshops; those will be stationed throughout the town, outside the walls. Have you decided if we’ll share the plans for the new Mark 3s yet?”
“I believe we will,” Olsen replied. Martin sensed this was the sheriff's decision backed with the Founder’s blessing. To Fredericks’ relief, the two men seemed to be working together just as well as they had before Phil was hailed as Founder. “We need to produce them as soon as possible. And we’ll need Old Main’s workshops. The Mark 2s are needed for farming as much as defense. The Mark 3s will allow us to have what you call a ‘dedicated weapons platform’ out in the towns and patrolling the farmsteads. We can produce twice as many with the Old Main College facilities. We can get them focused on producing things we need, and we’ll produce the food they need.
“All right, Commander. President Ruff has agreed that you will have two hundred athletic young men and women to train the second day of the Summit. You’ll be spared the grind of a meeting hall, and instead be in the field, training former college students for battle. I have to say, I envy you,” the Founder said with a smile.
“I’ll go make sure that the final duty rosters are complete. This delegation is nearly too big, already,” Commander Fredericks concluded as he gathered his items and headed for the exit.
The fate of thousands hung over their head again. Actually, more than they could accurately count. Old Main College was turning to them for leadership. Decatur still had people coming out
of hiding a year after they assimilated the former small metropolis. Every tiny outpost for several miles was now aiming to petition for inclusion. Most of the time, these communities were just barely hanging on. With very poor communications systems still hampered intermittently by the Solar Storms, messages might take days to get back and forth to these peripheral areas.
Olsen wasn’t convinced they should be stretching themselves and their resources too thin for people outside the original communities. But the Founder of the SDC had different ideas. The specter of the Grays hung over their heads every day. So far they fought only skirmishes along the north eastern border since taking Decatur, however, they continued to expect some sort of conflict every day. Fredericks’ contacts inside the Gray units kept him up to date with their actions as their leader Colonel Darrin Walsh continued New America’s efforts of “Reconstruction.” That term really meant coercion by force and surrendering control to Walsh and his troops. Olsen was concerned that each small town that allied with Okaw Valley meant another point that had to be defended. But Phil believed each could be fortified as another barrier to Gray advances against their own homeland.
“Commander Fredericks, please wait a moment,” Phil called out. “Do you have an assessment of how many of the new community petitions we should accept? We’ve got a lot of prospects coming to the summit meeting. I think we all need to be on the same page with what we can handle. I don’t want to embarrass anyone when they ask…even if we’re not going to accept them,” Phil said.
“Well, per Clark’s suggestion, we’ve sent out Raptors north and south to find existing communities we might ally with. There’s nothing but Ditchmen west to the river. We haven’t been inviting the survivors to join, just inviting them to attend the summit,” Fredericks replied.
Always in pairs, the air tractors now known as Raptors were searching the area outside of Gray territory for civilized groups still hanging on after the Reset. The airborne scouts also searched for more hangars, hoping to find idle planes matching their own. Small airports containing good candidates were marked on the map. Heavy equipment dealerships held interest also, featuring parking lots full of potential vehicles for armored conversion.
