Against the Storm: A Fortress Farm Novel

by G. R. Carter

  “A lot of people did things before the Tribulation they now regret, and are happy to have the second chance they have now to do the right thing,” Hamilton replied, probably alluding to Huffman’s own past. “Without question a lot of us have done things since then we wish we could take back.”

  “I know you regret what ARK did in Springfield.”

  “Of course. But Alex and I were a part of that, Bill. We thought it would be the right thing to do, getting revenge for our people. We said it was to keep the Ditchers from ever attacking us again, but in our hearts we wanted payback,” Hamilton said. He didn’t seem remorseful; clearly he had made his peace with it.

  “Yes, but neither of you ever gave such an order again, did you? After you saw what you had wrought. When you vanquished your foes in New America, you offered generous peace terms. You let their people retain not only their lives and farms, but their dignity,” Huffman countered.

  “Thanks to guidance from the Bishops of the Domicile. The Church was there to guide our path, like it does yours.”

  “Our brothers in the Green and Silver helped, no doubt, but ultimately it was you who made the decision. Your heart told you right and wrong,” Huffman said.

  Oliver watched in fascination at the two leaders discussing past sins as though no one else was in the room. Many a late-night discussion must have been shared to allow such a frank discussion without any apparent animosity.

  “With respect, Bill, I feel like we’re off on a tangent. We’re not here to discuss the Hamilton family, we’re here to get an account from the Captain,” Hamilton said.

  “Forgive me, Sam. Allow me one more question. Where do you think you learned your morals, the difference between right and wrong? And don’t say the Church, folks will think you’re pandering to the crowd,” Huffman said with his smile.

  “Mom and Dad. Uncle Clark, too.”

  “And what did they all do before the Tribulation? For a living, I mean?”

  “That’s two questions, Elector,” Hamilton replied, returning the smile. “And you already know the answers. Farmer, nurse and sheriff.”

  “So if those influences of your youth helped make you the man you are today, would reason not dictate the family of Tony Diamante made him who he is today?”

  Hamilton said nothing, simply stared at Huffman, stone-faced. Then he turned to look at each of the Electors seated at the table. “Brothers and sisters, I was going to wait and speak with Elector Huffman about this later, but it seems the time has come for each of us to lay their cards on the table. I came here today to warn you of intelligence the Republic received about an imminent invasion by the jihadists of the Northern Caliphate. This information is reliable. Enough so that Alex believes it to be actionable.”

  Hamilton let the news sink in and the murmurs subside from the Table. “Alex has called for a summit of all the free peoples to be held in one week’s time. As a central location, he has instructed Governor Olsen to make preparations to receive everyone in Mt. Vernon. Now I know that many of you have issues with Grand Shawnee, or at least with Eric himself. Alex understands and intends to address that. Furthermore, I am going to give him a full debriefing on what has occurred here. I’m sure he’ll want to get Elector Huffman and Premier Diamante together to discuss this bad blood that’s brewing.

  Sam locked on to each person at the table, hawk-like eyes not threatening but with clear intent. “With your agreement, I’d like to take Captain Oliver with me back to Aronia Point, have him meet with Alex and Bek in person. Our sister Essie is landing here in the morning. She’s as much part of this city as she is part of us now,” Sam said, eyes resting on his future brother-in-law John Bolin. “She can act as our liaison while I’m gone. I’ve taught her everything I know when it comes to air attack tactics. She’s better and more patient with students than I am. Your new pilots will be better off with her for a while.”

  He turned to face Senior Elector Huffman. “Bill, I’ve got your written statement about all this, signed by every Elector here, which will carry more weight with my brother than just about any other worldly document…except maybe the Declaration of Independence or the Articles of the Okaw,” Sam said.

  Huffman nodded. “I’ve got no objection to you taking him, Sam. Might prove good faith to ARK that he’s in your hands instead of ours.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he chuckled. He turned back to those gathered around the Table. “Brothers and sisters, we love you all. Truly respect you. If we can prove what you have alleged, it’s going to be a difficult conversation with ARK. I suggest we all pray to the Creator for guidance. The approaching storm just seems to get bigger every day.”

  Chapter Six

  Grand Tower Island

  Mississippi River (Southern Flow)

  Year 12.09 A.G.R. (After the Great Reset)

  Two days after the Battle of Kaskaskia

  “Lash this last barge to the post, then let’s get everyone in to warm up,” the dock boss called out. Levi Marshall grabbed the inches thick rope, threw the end over one shoulder, and began to lean into the pull. He gave a heave, then felt more men jump in behind him. The dock winch strained to bring the barge’s nose around, giving slack to the line as the men brought it in. The rope joined with chains and cables to make the giant floating rectangle another segment of the metal jigsaw puzzle they had spent the last three weeks putting together. With everything secure, Levi stretched his back, taking in a deep breath and wiping sweat from his forehead, feeling sweaty and chilled at the same time in damp cool air.

  “Inside, boys,” Levi gave a shout. “Got to take a load off ‘fore the bossman changes his mind.” He gave a wink and smile to his crew leader, a good man willing to have a joke with his boys, or tote a line when needed.

  The men filed into an old gambling boat, now their living quarters while completing this project. Once-fancy carpet and wallpaper looked worn and faded, defeated not only by working men unconcerned by their muddy boots, but also by the constant humidity of the river. An outsider would have noticed the smell of hard labor mixed with the decay of old plywood. Levi’s crew didn’t. They were happy to have a place to get in out of the elements, a place with a full time cook providing three squares and hot coffee. Short and tall, young and old, but all tough as nails. Wiry men unafraid to put themselves between the crushing weight of metal barges, where one wrong step could put you under the merciless current that pulled and pushed at every creation of man.

  Most here were once refugees, loyal to the rose and sword because Mt. Horab gave them a place to be, a place to earn an honest living where they knew their loved ones would be safe. History bore out the Elector’s willingness to take care of folks; even the families of those who lost their lives out here to the dangerous tasks. Some spent a project or two out here, then rotated back into town for a turn at another job. Militia duty for some—everyone had to put in at least one stint of that. Crew bosses like Levi, and project foremen like his superior officer, stayed with their projects. They seldom made it back to town, most not having much to go back for. They lived for the job, to see one more project complete, one more time the flag of Mt. Horab going up over a shelter for soldiers and civilians alike.

  Levi nodded to a group of Stewards, gray-clad soldiers in from guard duty out in the same elements. He liked most of them, some crewed with him on and off. The hardest part for some of the Stewards was to resist laying their rifles down and jumping in to lend a hand. Chief Stewards made it their mission to keep it from happening that way; an offense to Levi until nearly learning the hard way what happened if Ditchers came at them and no one had a weapon in hand. That had been a tight spot, all hand-to-hand fighting, which put two of his men in the hospital and that particular project two weeks behind. After that, the Chief Stewards didn’t have to do the correcting, Levi took care of it himself.

  “All that standing around wear you out, soldier boys?” he poked as he walked by.

  “Yah, you all is making us a little
tired with watching, Mr. Levi,” one of the men said back. Nigerian, if Levi remembered right, a man who had floated down the river all the way from the North Country—an 8x8 raft carrying him and his four kids, the wife having not made it due to illness. Each man here had such a story. The frontier was terrifying if facing it alone, few making it through the dying times after the Tribulation. But with a crew, with a group of men of like mind, the frontier was just a beast to be tamed. No one was scared anymore; once you made it through Hell on earth, the bogeyman in the woods was scared of you.

  “How goes the project, Levi? Looks like you guys are about ready to push off for the next settlement?” the Chief Steward asked.

  Levi nodded. “Another couple of days, Chief. Our land crew is finishing the concrete pilings in the middle of the island, they already have the pier complete. So they’ll be starting to put up the crew quarters and the guard stations right away. We get those done, reckon we can move on to the next.”

  “Seems like you cut a couple of days off each time you do one of these, Levi. Get too good they gonna make you a bossman, eh?”

  “Old Man River is an unpredictable sort, Chief. I’ll let others have the work of figuring out the wheres and whys, I’ll stick to the hows. By the way, how are the guests doing?” Levi asked.

  The Chief shook his head. “Makes me nervous having ARK men around. These seem like a decent sort, I suppose. Not like those Peacekeepers or the merchants they send about. Just don’t like havin’ to look after their equipment, too. What happens if the river comes up, or those big boats break away from the dock? Don’t like bein’ responsible for nothin’ ain’t mine. Er, well, ours, I mean.”

  “For sure that includes those people’s people, eh?”

  “For sure. But they’re comfortable. Got ‘em a deck a cards and plenty of grub, hanging out down below. Electors don’t want them up top getting too good a look at what we’re up to. Figure we’ll get them turned back over to ARK soon as a deal is struck,” the Chief said.

  “What about the boats, Chief? Seems like we’ll be turning those over at the same time?”

  “Yup, got a couple of our navy boys crawling all over those tugs right now, making good notes. Might be something useful to be learned, I reckon. One of them is pretty torn up, the other seems just fine. That Captain they took back to Mt. Horab with them turned it over to us that way.”

  Levi slid into a decaying vinyl and laminate booth, joining a part of his crew already chowing on the ham and eggs served up by a man in a greasy apron. He said a quick and private blessing over the food, crossed himself, and then proceeded to devour the entire plate. A hot cup of Aronia coffee washed it down; he’d have a rich beer with the night’s supper. Some in Mt. Horab were against drinking beer or wine, but Levi was certainly not one of them. Drinking water out here around the river could get a little dicey sometimes, so fermentation was considered a blessing and not a curse to the workers.

  “Levi?” a voice called from the door. “Levi, would you mind taking a look at a little problem we got out here?” The man looking in from the doorway was the bossman of the land crew. He was a smart guy, structural engineer or some such before the Tribulation. More educated on theory than on practice, but man enough to admit when he didn’t know something.

  “Sure thing, Mr. Cooper. And don’t apologize for botherin’ me at a meal. Best to get out of this room before the digestion process starts around these two-legged hogs!” Levi said, gulping down the bitter sweet coffee and dodging a piece of bread chucked at him by the jeering table full of men.

  Just for fun, he grabbed a piece of ham off one of their plates and ate it with a grin, then ducked out the door following Cooper.

  The two men chatted about problems on the walk out to the job site, discussing what might be the cause and potential solutions. Levi inspected the tall concrete towers being formed up by wood, noticing extra rebar laid into the concrete. “Making this one extra tough, Mr. Cooper? Seems like a bit overdone?”

  “Well, this area does have a tendency to flood, Levi. You know how mean that current can get. But I take your meaning. Seems like the Electors want us to build this one to withstand more than just the acts of nature,” Cooper replied.

  “I never thought about that. I’m so busy thinking about how to beat back the river I forget that others might have ill intentions,” Levi replied.

  Cooper nodded, then turned back and looked at the plans laid out on a table made of plywood and saw horses. “That’s why your floating ports are so important. Your teams work with the river, mine work against it. “These,” he pointed to the concrete pilings behind him, “are the future. Your barges are what we need in the present. The Electors aim to push us up river a piece.” He pointed at the papers in front of them. “I wanted you to see this. I talked to your bossman about it earlier today and he wanted you to have a look, too.”

  Levi stared down at a detailed map of the river system, finding his own location and then working out from there. Small rose and sword emblems appeared at various places all along the South Flow, both on the main channel and on the numerous tributaries feeding in. In fact every river or stream navigable by small vessels held the emblem. He whistled through his teeth, pulling off the tattered CAT tractor hat he wore and ran his fingers through his thick hair.

  “Guess job security is a good thing, eh, Mr. Cooper?”

  “Ambitious to say the least, Levi. We’ve got three of these built permanent stations built, well two and this one. I need your help figuring out two things. First, how many men would we need to complete all of these in two years? And where should we start first? Not saying you and I have the final call, but the Electors will listen to our suggestions.”

  “Why not ask my bossman, Mr. Cooper? He’s a sharp cookie, got a good mind for the big picture.”

  “The Electors have requested that he come back to town. They want to reinforce Mt. Horab’s defenses. They seem to think ARK working down the South Flow towards us is no accident. No friends of ours, those mobsters. This thing happening between our boats and theirs might mean the bad blood between us comes to a boil,” Cooper said.

  “I’ll help best I can, Mr. Cooper. But figure my new bossman should be the one makes the final calls, eh? When’s he goin’ to be here from town?”

  Cooper looked at Levi with a little grin. “Sorry, Levi. I know you’re not going to like this, but your number’s been called. You’re the new bossman. Welcome to upper management.”

  Chapter Seven

  Heimat Aronia Point

  Personal Residence of Founder Alex and Rebekah Hamilton

  Red Hawk Republic – Okaw Province

  Year 12.09 A.G.R.

  Five Days after the Battle for Kaskaskia

  “I guess it’s all been pretty overwhelming for you. Not exactly where you thought you’d be when you left port?” Sam Hamilton said over roaring engines.

  Oliver just nodded. His voice was hoarse; he’d nearly used it up trying to speak over the noise of the flight. He looked out the window at the landscape spread out below. One large building dominated the surrounding fields, with a half a dozen other buildings of various sizes evenly spaced throughout the rest of the grounds. Row after row of some sort of bush reached out to the surrounding woods, which in turn also surrounded a long narrow body of water that twisted and turned past his vision.

  Sam guided the twin-engine plane to line up with a strip of asphalt below. Oliver had expected to take a train to Red Hawk Territory, or maybe a quick ferry ride across the river and then a truck ride north. But Sam Hamilton was a pilot and the thought of doing anything but flying to their destination was inconceivable. Oliver had never been in a plane before today. The view was indescribable, as was the terror of takeoff and the idea of landing. Sam simply smiled and steered the plane, gently correcting the controls until the first bounce of the landing gear onto terra firma.

  “Welcome to Aronia Point, Captain Oliver. You are now a guest of the Founder of the Red Haw
k Republic, both of them.” Oliver could tell there was a private joke by the wider smile. Sam taxied the plane to a resting spot near a large metal building painted bright white with a large green and silver shield painted on it.

  “What’s the shield symbol, Mr. Hamilton? I thought you Red Hawks painted that screaming chicken emblem on everything. There’s rumors you all are born with a hawk-shaped birthmark,” Oliver said. He was feeling a little irritated from the flight, the medication and the constant dull pain. Frankly, he was tired of being shuffled around like a trophy, also.

  Sam didn’t bite on the insult. “We were the Okaw Valley Self Defense Cooperative before we were the Red Hawk Republic, Captain. And please, call me Sam. We save the formality for official business. This just a visit among friends.”

  Unfolding themselves from the tight confines of the plane, they were met by a bustling crew of men and women. All were dressed in coveralls with the same camouflage pattern that Sam wore, and all had the green shield with a silver outline over their left breast. Hugs and handshakes told Oliver that these were long-term acquaintances and probably not just servants like those employed at an ARK Citizen’s Townhouse. These people seemed more like friends reuniting. Sam made introductions, though the only name Oliver seemed to remember was Steinbrink, having been repeated multiple times throughout the crowd. Oliver felt comfortable here, getting nods of appreciation and respect when his position was described.

  Together they were escorted up a long stone path toward the large building Oliver had spotted from the plane. The place seemed more impressive now, less like a building complex and more like the grand residence of an estate. Beautiful stained glass windows surrounded a two story brick and stone entrance, which consisted of solid wood doors, once again sporting the green and silver shields. All around the walkway and the foundation were plants and trees, fully shaped though not blooming this time of the year.