by Ryan King
Chicoca paused and stared up at the ceiling. "The Red Sticks who had left their own tribe to help the Shawnee and others were no longer welcome and were driven out. We fled west, fighting other new tribes until we found a place to settle. And we did."
Billy started to rise from beside her, but froze in confusion when his uncle continued to speak.
"They carried with them a prophecy that one day the Red Sticks would return to their ancestral homes. That when stars fell from the sky again, it would be time. I had forgotten, but now it is plain."
The old man gazed around the room solemnly and perhaps hesitantly. "Last night I had a vision."
Murmurs swept around the room and the Creek looked at each other in surprise.
Chicoca continued. "Tecumseh himself visited me. He said the time to return was now. We can finally go home."
Billy stood suddenly. "Uncle, this is momentous news, but are you sure? Visions can be interpreted many different ways. There is much danger and death out there, and we do not know the way. Besides, winter is coming on. Even if we go, we should wait until the spring."
Chicoca pointed a long thin finger at Susan. "She will show us the path. She knows the way around the dead cities and the invisible death."
"What?" asked Susan loudly. "Me? I'm not even sure what you're talking about."
The old man ignored her and turned to those assembled around him. "We should begin preparations and start our journey before the next full moon. The time is now. We have waited two hundred years for this, we can wait no longer." The old man then turned away and supported by several young men moved toward the exit.
Billy Fox began to follow after the old man, but Susan grabbed his sleeve.
"Where are you supposed to be going? Where is this Creek ancestral home."
He looked at her for a long moment before finally speaking. "A pretty wide area in the southeast. No one knows exactly anymore."
"But where does Chicoca think we're going?"
Billy sighed. "Tennessee. Like most of us, he believes our home is in Tennessee."
Part I
Dark Winter
Chapter 1 - Fire in the Woods
As they returned from Cairo, Illinois, Nathan Taylor could see black smoke billowing in the distance. Even through the heavy wet snow, the dark streak of hot air rose into the sky angrily cutting through the falling whiteness like a knife.
The smoke was coming from the south. He increased the speed on the motorcycle as much as he dared on the slippery road.
"Look," said Joshua pointing from behind Nathan on the bike.
"I know," cried out Nathan. "It looks to be in the direction of Jack's cabin." Nathan felt his son stiffen behind him, but to his credit Joshua didn't ask any further questions. While keeping a tight grip around his father's middle, Nathan heard Joshua checking the assault rifle that hung between them.
He knows what to do and what might be coming,Nathan thought.Did I teach him that or did he pick it up on his own? Doesn't matter. He's a grown man now, I have to think of him that way.
Nathan drove the motorcycle to the edge of the concealed trail that led from the paved road back to Jack McKraven's cabin deep in the woods. He considered trying to ride the bike down the narrow trail but decided if the snow and ice didn't cause him to have a fatal crash, then one of Jack's hidden booby traps would.
They gathered their gear and set off at a run. The cabin was several miles away, but they could now smell the smoke and it hung over them, cloaking the light from the sky even more. Nathan was so intent on getting to Jack as quickly as possible that he didn't notice what was right before his eyes.
"Wait," said Joshua grabbing his father's arm and making him stop. He knelt down in the snow and brushed it aside. A large boot print appeared in the soft earth beneath. He brushed away more fresh fallen snow on the trail uncovering more prints.
"Looks like four men," Joshua said. "All headed toward the cabin. The boots all have the same tread."
Nathan swore under his breath. "The boots were issued to them. These must be some of the Missouri Alliance soldiers who escaped the Jackson Purchase attack on their camp. Those men are complete animals even when they aren't scared and desperate. Come on, let's hurry."
They jogged down the trail toward the cabin, but Nathan was more cautious now, his senses alert. He was pretty sure he could hear intermittent gunshots in the distance. Gunshots were good they meant Jack was still alive and fighting back. No one would waste ammunition unless there was something to shoot at.
Nathan rounded a corner and nearly fell into a deep pit in front of him. Joshua grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Both leaned forward to look at the bottom.
A man in camouflage clothing lay at the bottom. Sharpened wooden stakes wet with blood protruded up out of the man's stomach, left shoulder, and right thigh. Wet snow was starting to cover the man and he looked up at them with wild and desperate eyes. The man's mouth opened and closed with wet pops in a manner that reminded Nathan of a landed fish.
Joshua pulled his rifle to his shoulder and pointed it at the man.
"No," said Nathan pushing the rifle barrel down. "It might give us away. We need to catch his friends by surprise."
"But we can't just leave him here like this," said Joshua uneasily.
"Sure we can," answered Nathan and to prove the point carefully made his way around the booby trap and began jogging down the trail again. After a few seconds he heard his son following along behind him.
Within minutes, Nathan started to hear voices. More accurately, he heard catcalls and heckling. He crept carefully down the trail and knelt on one knee hiding in the foliage. Joshua came up on Nathan's right and they looked with horror on the scene before them.
Jack McKraven's wooden cabin was a bright blaze of furious flames. Heat and smoke thrust themselves into the sky. Two men dressed in camouflage similar to the one they had found in the pit stood nearest them. Another was on the other side of the clearing, evidently guarding any escape out the rear of the structure.
"He can't still be alive in there," whispered Joshua.
A shotgun blast erupted from the open front door.
The men danced out of the way and laughed. A tall bucktoothed man on the left cried out, "Guess he's still got some life in him after all."
"Don't you doubt it you little shit," came the surprisingly strong reply from Jack lying down in the doorway. "I'll be alive long after you all are buzzard crap."
The men laughed and strutted around the cabin, not bothering to shoot back at Jack.
Nathan pointed to the man standing off to the rear of the house. "You take him out first. After you shoot, I'll get these two. Then you run in and grab Jack."
A look of sudden panic crossed his son's face. Nathan's eyes flicked to Joshua's head where even the knit cap couldn't completely cover the still healing wounds there. The Missouri Alliance had tortured and nearly killed Joshua with fire.I'm so stupid, thought Nathan.How could I forget that?
Joshua's face now looked guilty and ashamed. "I want too...I do...it's just..."
Nathan patted his son's shoulder. "You're a better shot than I am anyway. I'll get the one on the far side standing still and you take care of these two dancing fools. Cover me when I go in for Jack in case there are any others lurking around."
His son nodded, his face red with embarrassment.
Nathan wanted to talk to his son, explain that there was no reason to be ashamed. He had seen the same thing in dozens of men under combat situations. But there wasn't time. There never seemed to be time anymore.
He lifted his own assault rifle, resting his left elbow on his knee for support. Sighting down the barrel at the short quiet man furthest away, who might have been only seventeen, Nathan slowly squeezed the trigger. A red hole appeared in the center of the man's chest and he fell backward.
Two quick shots from Joshua and the other two men were down on their faces, holes in their backs. The bucktoothed man moved and Joshua
shot him in the head.
"Wait here," said Nathan shedding his backpack and rifle. He then jumped up and ran toward the cabin and Jack.
He felt an explosion of air and heat rush past him just before he heard the shotgun blast in front of him.
Falling to the ground Nathan screamed out, "Damn it, Jack. It's me. Stop shooting."
"Nathan?" asked Jack weakly. "That you?"
"Yes!" cried Nathan. "Now stop shooting and let me get you out of there." He stood and crept up the front porch, the heat nearly forcing him back.
"Well you should know better...than to come up on my property...without warning," Jack gasped out of the smoky darkness.
Nathan knelt down as he felt the dangerous heat waves rising above him. He knew the temperature difference between five feet off the ground and two could be five hundred degrees. Peering into the darkness, Nathan at first didn't see anything, but then an old sinewy hand reached out of the smoke and Nathan grasped it. He pulled with all his might and soon Jack McKraven's face emerged, his long white hair and beard singed along the edges.
Jack smiled weakly at him. "Took your damn time getting here, didn't ya?"
Nathan pulled Jack down the porch stairs just as the roof of the cabin collapsed suddenly and a wave of heat and smoke burst over them. Nathan lay over Jack and the smell of ash and smoke filled his nose and lungs.
Someone was hitting and slapping him and Nathan looked up to see Joshua swinging his jacket down on Nathan again and again.
I'm on fire, Nathan realized. He began rolling back and forth on the ground until he was sure the fire was out.
"Come on," yelled Joshua. "We got to get further away." He helped Nathan up off the ground and then they both stuck an arm under one of Jack's shoulders and half carried, half dragged him away from the heat and fire. The sudden coolness of the snow-covered tree line was shocking and made Nathan gasp and shiver.
Jack coughed as Joshua gave him water from a canteen, but then he greedily grasped the container for more.
"Are you okay?" asked Nathan.
Jack looked at them both carefully before speaking. "I took in some smoke, but I think I'm okay. Used to be a volunteer paramedic at the fire station, you know. Knew enough when they set the house on fire to wet my clothing and stay low."
Nathan couldn't help laughing. This old man seemed like the most resilient thing on the planet.
"What's Joshua doing here?" asked Jack suddenly. "I thought he was going back to the JP."
"That's a long story," said Joshua, "but it looks like we will have time to tell it."
Nathan's eyes met his son's. "Yeah, we got a long journey ahead of us and you're going with us."
"The hell I am," said Jack. "I told you I don't intend to leave my land again."
Nathan felt anger rising inside him. "Look around you old fool. Winter is here and your cabin is gone. Your supplies and food are gone. Those MA pukes are not the last dangerous scavengers that will be coming by here to pick the meat off your bones. The smoke from this fire will be seen for miles. You don't think desperate men won't come around here?"
"I'm not going," Jack said his jaw tight.
"We saw Conrad," said Joshua suddenly. "He and his wife and two girls made it out. They're in the JP."
Jack's face relaxed and he smiled up at Joshua. "They made it out? My grandson and his family are safe?"
Thank you Joshua, thought Nathan. "Yes, and that's where we're going. You might as well be with them. Family is important."
Jack didn't answer for a long time. Finally he struggled up into a sitting position. "Familyis important. Besides, you two would just be newborn babes in the woods without me. I now have a responsibility to take care of you."
"Sure," answered Nathan trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "We won't make it a mile without your wise counsel and inexhaustible founts of knowledge."
The old man looked at Nathan suspiciously before breaking out in a toothy grin. "I'm glad you finally learned a little respect. That's the problem with you younger generations: no respect for your elders and betters."
"Maybe we should just get out of here," said Joshua. "Someone might come along and take the bike."
Nathan cringed at the idea of the three of them on the motorcycle again. Jack had nearly killed them the last time.
"Maybe you should let me drive this time," said Jack to Nathan. "You don't seem to be that good of a driver."
Nathan bit his tongue and helped the old man to his feet. It was going to be a long journey indeed.
Chapter 2 - War Council
Major Evan Steed looked nervously out over the dark room. Shadows danced from several lanterns positioned along the walls highlighting a space filled with Tennessee soldiers, state troopers, and even a few Jackson Purchase officers who had remained loyal. He knew most of them and they weren't what caused him apprehension. It was the two men sitting directly in front of him.
Ethan Schweitzer had always been a source of uncertainly and anxiety. He was the sort of man at first glance you just knew was harmless and dismissed. A short elderly gentleman who was always polite and deferential, rumors about him abounded. Men had disappeared forever coincidentally after crossing him, and who could explain his sudden rise to power? After N-Day, Ethan had served as the personal advisor to General Sampson, the previous West Tennessee Republic Commander. He had then moved miraculously in quick succession to become the President of the WTR, the Vice-President of both WTR and the Jackson Purchase and now President of both countries after the former President Paul Campbell resigned due to health concerns. Ethan Schweitzer was a man you shouldn't underestimate. Besides, his famed charm and politeness had been replaced my bouts of fury and frustration more frequently since he was attacked several weeks before in the JP.
"You may begin, Major," said the man to Ethan's left.
Evan looked at the new Chief of Defense, General Vincent Lacert. If Ethan made him nervous, this man caused his skin to crawl. His fierce blue eyes bored into people in a way that made you feel violated. And there was no need to wonder about his particular nature, General Lacert had already ordered several public whippings for officers who failed him.
"Yes, sir," said Evan. "Thank you sir and thank you Mister President for attending this situational briefing."
Ethan didn't move or acknowledge Evan's greeting. He stared ahead at the large map to Evan's rear.
"Just get on with it," said Vincent.
"Right, sir," answered Evan turning to his map and pointed at two areas outlined in red. "Martial law remains in effect throughout the Jackson Purchase. We currently have two sections in open rebellion: New Harvest County to the west, which controls the electricity from Kentucky Dam, and the city of Paducah here to our north."
"Start with that traitor Brazen," grumbled Ethan.
Evan froze at first uncertain what the president was talking about, but then it clicked into place and he turned toward Paducah. "Yes, sir. Timothy "Brazen" Walker's forces control most of the city. They have driven Frank Simm's forces south and killed the majority of the soldiers and police under his control. No one has seen or heard from Simm in weeks."
"Probably because his head is on a pole," grumbled Vincent.
"Barbaric," said Ethan. "It isn't enough to send me a truckload of severed heads, but he found it necessary to place them on stakes around Paducah?"
"It's brilliant, if you ask me," said Vincent.
"Well, I'm not asking you," growled Ethan.
Vincent shrugged, "Continue, Major."
"The perimeter of the city itself is very large, nearly thirty miles. Walker's forces are not numerous enough to control that entire area, but they have established what we typically call a defense in depth."
Vincent turned to Ethan. "They establish strongholds at key locations. When we attack, they let us pass by and then strike us in the rear from numerous locations. It's the only real option they have if they want to keep all that territory."
"We have add
itionally attempted several amphibious landings along the Ohio River," continued Evan, "but the rebels have repositioned the JP tanks they captured earlier along the shore. Our boats can't get close enough to offload. Each attempt resulted in several lost boats along with their crews and complements of soldiers."
"Don't they call them marines if they do amphibious missions?" asked a colonel from the rear.
Vincent spoke without turning. "One, just because you get your feet a little wet doesn't mean you're a marine. Two, you open your stupid mouth again without permission and I'll cut out your shit-eating tongue."
Evan saw the colonel turn pale and snap his open mouth shut.
"We believe," Evan hurried on, "that their stores of supplies cannot last through the winter. Their perimeter contains at least twenty thousand people, most of them civilians. It is also our assessment that they are incapable of any significant offense operation due to lack of fuel, food, and ammunition."
"What the major is trying to say," grumbled Vincent, "is that if we leave Paducah alone, simply keep them contained, they'll surrender on their own by spring. No need to keep sending our troops in there."
Ethan turned his head slowly to look at Vincent. "We're supposed to let this cancer exist in our midst without doing anything about it?"
"What I'm saying," answered Vincent meeting Ethan's gaze without flinching, "is that we can't engage bothcancerssimultaneously. We have to deal with one and then the other. Major, move on to New Harvest."
"Yes, sir," answered Evan pointing to the island of red surrounded by water on three sides. "New Harvest County is assessed as the more serious threat. Major General Butch Matthews took a sizable portion of the JP military, equipment, and supplies with him when he fled."
"When he turned traitor," said Ethan.
"Yes, sir," said Evan. "When he turned traitor. New Harvest is protected on the east by Kentucky Lake and on the west by Barkley Lake. These come together in the north at Kentucky Dam, which supplies them with electricity."
