by Ryan King
Johnny walked up and whispered in Givens' hear. "Seriously, what do you want to do with them? Maybe we shouldn't just let them go like all the ones before."
Givens stared hard at the men. "All you from around here? Anyone not from Graves County."
A flurry of nods and names of small farm hamlets rained down on him.
"So, we're all from here. We're all in this together," said Givens. "You can join us. Help us fight."
"They'll get our families," said Norton.
"Then go get them and bring them in with us," said Johnny. "We have lots of places to hide."
"For what?" asked Norton. "So we can freeze and slowly starve to death. I'll take my chances as they are now. At least I can feed my family."
"Off of our backs," said Givens angrily. "You eat the food that we should have, that we planted and grew and harvested."
"I'm sorry about that," said Norton, "but that's just the way it is. Wish there was another way."
"What about the rest of you?" asked Givens. "Will you join us?"
"What happens to us if we refuse?" asked Norton. "You going to shoot us?"
Givens shook his head. "No. I'll let you go."
"Seriously?" asked Norton.
"Yes," answered Givens. "Now how many of you want to be with us? Stop fighting for the enemy and stealing from your neighbors. I know you've done it so far because you felt there wasn't any choice, but there is another way."
There was a moment of silence and then one man stepped forward. "I never liked this anyway. I go with you."
"Me too," said another. Soon they all agreed and moved to help unload the overturned truck. All except Norton.
"You sure?" asked Givens.
"I'm sure," answered Norton sadly. "I've got a family to look after."
"Hell, man," said Johnny, "we all got families to look after."
Norton just shook his head and looked away.
Soon the overturned truck was emptied and all useable gear stripped from the inside.
"Go ahead and get out of here," said Givens to his people. "Meet at the rendezvous. Blindfold the new guys until we can be sure they're with us. They make any crazy moves, shoot them."
The two pickup trucks were pulled out of the way and the three five ton trucks filled with people, weapons and ammo made their way around the overturned vehicle and vanished into the swirling snow. One of the pickup trucks followed slowly leaving only Givens, Johnny and Norton.
"What are we going to do with all that stuff?" asked Johnny. "We still need to eat."
"Have no fear," answered Givens his eyes hard on Norton. "If you got guns and ammo, you can get just about anything else."
"Now who's taking from their neighbors?" asked Norton.
"We won't take from our neighbors," grinned Givens. "We're going to go after people like you. We'll take back what's ours."
"That's way more guns that we can use," said Johnny quietly.
"It won't be for long," answered Givens. "We can build an army now. No more need to hide in the shadows."
Norton shook his head sadly. "You're just going to get a bunch of innocent people killed. Leave them alone. Don't convince them to do anything stupid."
"We're done here," answered Givens. "You climb up that embankment there and you'll find some houses a half mile down the road. Maybe they'll show you some charity and let you in out of the cold before you freeze. Or, they might just shoot you. Either way, I sick of looking at you. Start walking."
Norton stared at him a few moments and then began walking slowly up the hill, his jacket pulled tightly around his neck.
Givens raised his rifle and pointed it at the back of the man's head. His finger tightened on the trigger. The tip of the barrel started to quiver. He sighed and lowered the weapon. "Let's go," he told Johnny.
They got into the pickup truck and drove into the sheets of thick falling whiteness.
Chapter 5 - Decline and Fall
Vincent tried to relax, but he couldn't make his fists unclench. He looked at the snow covered trees outside the window as he was driven west. It was probably a good thing the drive from New Harvest to Fulton was long, otherwise he might have done something reckless. Although he still seethed, it was nothing compared to his earlier blinding rage.
How dare that little twerp summon me?thought Vincent.I told him to stay out of my business and now he orders me to see him in Fulton? With all that is going on?
He had been tempted to ignore the order or claim he hadn't received it, but that might have given Ethan reason to distrust him. Vincent knew he needed to be careful and wondered again if the time were right to make his move. Teaming up with Ethan had only been an alliance of convenience until he possessed everything he wanted. So far, Ethan had stayed just slightly out of the kill zone. Given enough time, he would step into it and then Vincent would be in charge.As I should be, he reminded himself.Ethan will bring us to ruin.
It was still difficult for Vincent to comprehend that Ethan would try to destroy Kentucky Dam and take away their only source of free and abundant electricity. And that he would use a nuclear weapon no less. Vincent had tortured the men on that mission for days and then publicly executed them in front of his army. That should serve as a lesson for anyone who went behind his back.
Ethan was obviously insane. A point Vincent wanted to drive home when he staged his coup d'état. That civilian had no business being in charge of anything.
His thoughts were interrupted as they slowed and stopped at the guard post of Ethan's large manor house near the center of Fulton. Rumors circulated that former JP President Paul Campbell and his family were somewhere on the estate, but Vincent doubted it. He knew Ethan well enough to recognize the man didn't like loose ends.
The guards let them through and the car drove up the circle driveway to park in front of elegant marble steps flanked by tall marble columns. Vincent admitted he was impressed by Ethan's choice in living quarters. This had to be the finest house anywhere around. He made a mental note to move in there himself when Ethan was gone.
He stepped out of the car and climbed the steps before opening the front door. He forced himself to suppress his anger when four large security detail personnel stepped toward him as soon as he entered the front parlor.
"General Lacert," said the one obviously in charge. "President Schweitzer has directed us to escort you to him in the study upon your arrival."
"Then I guess you best do it," said Vincent looking at the man with his coldest stare.
The guard didn't flinch. "Please surrender all weapons here with us."
"Why?" asked Vincent.
"Simply a precaution," answered the man. "As you know the president has had several attempts on his life."
"So he doesn't trust me now? Is that it?"
"This is nothing personal, sir. Everyone must surrender weapons in the presence of the president."
Vincent sighed as he pulled the pistol out of his holster and laid it on the table. "You make him sound like a king or something. Hispresence. Does he refer to himself with the royal we?"
"We'll now need to pat you down," the man said.
"The hell you will," answered Vincent slapping off a hand that reached for him.
The four guards stepped back slightly and assumed aggressive poses.
"Sir," said the leader. "Wewill search you. Either with your consent or without it. You are not leaving this room until you are searched."
Looking around him slowly, Vincent knew he could probably take all four men with the knife on his forearm, but for what purpose? More men would just come running.
"Fine, then," said Vincent.
Two men patted him down removing the small revolver in an ankle holster, a folding knife in his pocket and the long dagger in his forearm sheath.
"Why didn't you surrender these earlier?" asked one of the guards.
Vincent smiled innocently. "Because I forgot about them, that's all. Can we now proceed or do you assholes all need to stick your f
ingers up my butt to make sure I'm not hiding anything there?"
"That won't be necessary," answered the leader. "Please follow me to the study."
Strutting across thick red carpet, Vincent admired paintings, sculptures, and fine furniture at every turn. He even noticed lights burning in the middle of the day and then was able to detect the faint hum of a generator. They stopped in front of an ornate wooden door upon which the head detail person knocked.
"Just a second," came Ethan's voice.
Vincent stood there for a moment and then reached out and grasped the door handle, pushing it open and quickly walked past the startled guard.
Ethan glanced up in surprise from the book he was reading. He then held up a restraining hand to the men behind Vincent. "It's quite all right. I'll just find my place later."
"Glad to see you're catching up on your reading," said Vincent while stomping over to the wet bar and pouring a double finger of scotch in a crystal tumbler for himself.
Ethan laid the book on the table in front of him. "It is important to exercise one's mind."
"I wish you would exercise it without having to bother me," said Vincent. "I'm actually trying to run a war, if you hadn't noticed." He turned to find that the four security detail personnel had entered the study, closing the door behind them. They each occupied a position at a corner of the room.
"Is it really necessary for them to be in here?" asked Vincent.
"Probably not," said Ethan, "but they will fret and worry if I keep them out. I find it's just easier to let them in and ignore them. I suggest you do the same."
Vincent walked over from the wet bar and sat in a chair across from a small coffee table in front of Ethan. Setting down his drink, he picked up the book Ethan had just laid down. "The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon," said Vincent. "Looks riveting."
"It is, actually," answered Ethan. "Have you ever read it?"
"No," said Vincent tossing the book dismissively back on the table with a loud thump. "I do my best work in the real world where things get done by doing them. Not sitting around talking or reading."
Ethan ignored him. "Gibbon was before his time in historical analysis. He shows that the Roman Empire did not just simply die one day. It suffered a centuries-long fight with corruption, poor leadership, overextension, and costly wars. It took a great deal to destroy Rome."
"Fascinating," said Vincent. "I'm presuming that is your segue into destroying resistance in New Harvest?"
"Not really," answered Ethan. "We'll get to that in moment. I heard you tortured and publicly executed those men who I sent on a mission to destroy the dam. Why?"
"They were soldiers," answered Vincent. "They should never have accepted any mission from anyone without my permission. Besides, from my understanding, you're rather fond of public executions."
"They were acting under my orders," said Ethan.
"Foolish orders," answered Vincent sipping his drink. "Thank God they failed."
Ethan shook his head. "You simply don't get the bigger picture."
"I would say the same of you. I'm trying to win a war and you drag me away to come down here. Whatever the hell for?"
"Because we need to talk about the way ahead. We're actually on the edge of chaos."
"No," said Vincent. "We are on the edge of victory. The two can often be confused, but war is chaos and opportunity. Again, let me handle that part of this and you can well...read books I guess or whatever the hell it is you do when you're not bothering me."
"The entire Jackson Purchase is in revolt now with all those refugees returning from Paducah."
Vincent waved his hand dismissively. "Vagabonds, nothing more."
"And with Reggie Philips' damnable radio broadcast, we have more and more cases of disobedience every day. There is open insurrection in Graves and parts of Marshall Counties. It is getting harder to get supplies. We don't have enough men to secure our rear areas. Everything is in New Harvest."
"And whose idea was that?" asked Vincent. "I warned you not to put everything at the front. To leave some troops in reserve."
Ethan ignored him. "Now we have...well, what from all accounts appears to be an invading Indian tribe causing all sorts of havoc in Tennessee."
Vincent sat back. "Too bad we don't have any troops in reserve to deal with them. That would have been a great idea."
"Food and fuel are scarce," continued Ethan. "People are getting scared and desperate. Scared and desperate people do unpredictable things. We can't have that. Only one option remains open to us."
"Win?" asked Vincent taking a drink.
"Ask for peace," replied Ethan.
Vincent choked on his drink spraying it out on the table before him. "You can't be serious," he finally said when he could take a breath.
Ethan was disapprovingly using a handkerchief to wipe scotch off of the cover of Gibbon's work. "I am indeed."
"But peace? What can you possibly gain through that?"
Setting the book beside him on the couch, Ethan smiled. "I actually surrendered the last time I was at the peace table and I ended up president. Peace gains us time to recover. They will likely even turn the electricity back on in return. We'll bring them back into the fold later."
"At what cost?" asked Vincent.
"We'll promise to leave them alone and be good neighbors." Ethan's face was blank.
"Surely you don't intend to do that."
"Of course not," answered Ethan. "But they will accept it whether they believe it or not because they are on the verge of collapse also. Once our war with New Harvest is over we can focus on subduing the populace, which should be easier with electricity."
"Good thing you didn't blow up the hydroelectric dam," quipped Vincent.
"In all due time," said Ethan. "Rest assured."
Vincent took a deep breath and didn't speak for a while. "I don't like it," he finally said. "We need to push hard and crush them, then we can focus on other areas."
"We don't have the time you think we do," said Ethan tapping Gibbon's book with a finger as if to emphasize a point. "Also, we are in more perilous straits than you recognize."
"Sounds like you've already made up your mind," said Vincent draining the last of his scotch. "I'm not sure why you even bothered to bring me here if you aren't going to listen to me."
"Because I need something from you," Ethan answered pulling a folder piece of paper from the inside of the book beside him. He unfolded it and slid the paper across the table in front of Vincent and then laid an expensive pen beside it.
Vincent picked up the paper and read through it. His face became more slack with every second. He finally looked up at Ethan, letting the paper fall through his fingers to the floor. "What the hell is that?"
"I thought it was rather self-explanatory," said Ethan. "Not to be critical, but maybe youshould consider reading more."
"Resignation?" asked Vincent. "You can't be serious. The reason this is all going so badly is because of you. If you had kept your nose out of my business none of this would have happened."
Ethan shrugged. "You could be right, but it is of no matter. Every failure needs someone to blame. Otherwise people can't stop thinking about it. You'll take the blame, retire quietly someplace very nice, and we will go on. Maybe in a few years, when I need you again, you can get back in the game. But for now you need to go away."
"No," said Vincent.
"What do you mean?" asked Ethan innocently.
"Piss off," said Vincent standing. "I'm not signing any resignation or taking the blame for you."
Ethan smiled. "You know I was actually worried that you would sign that piece of paper. Then I would have felt obligated to try to treat you well and expend effort to watch my back for the next few years. Thank goodness you do not surprise me." He nodded to the men behind Vincent.
Vincent spun quickly and low. This threw off the first set of tazer darts, which embedded in the couch, but the second set caught him
in the shoulder and then it was impossible to think. He fell to the floor convulsing and shaking. After about ten seconds they turned off the electrical current and the four men bound him and dragged him out of the room and down the hall.
Ethan picked up Gibbon's work and continued to read.
Chapter 6 - Thanksgiving
One of the dam's large open storage areas, normally packed with spare parts and repair equipment, had been cleared and was now home to dozens of long tables occupied by New Harvest refugees. Most of them actually wore relaxed smiles and talked casually with their neighbors. They were warm, dry, and soothing music played in the background. It was Thanksgiving.
They could smell the food, even if it wasn't time to eat yet. Several hunters took wild turkeys and the new underground hydroponic gardens surprised everyone by producing a bounty of fruits and vegetables. The gardens were expanded and every available space inside the dam was nearly filled with trays covered by ultraviolet lights to illuminate small seedlings. Even residents were pushed outside into tents to make more room. Few complained. They would rather be cold than hungry.
Nathan still found it hard to believe he was back together with his family. Although that was his goal all along, it was one thing to strive for this day, it was another to actually believe it would happen. He reached out to take Bethany's hand and squeezed. She leaned in close to him, interrupting her intent glaring at Conrad McKraven a few tables over, who just as intently ignored her. Despite the fact that neither Nathan nor Joshua harbored any harsh feelings toward the man, Bethany still seemed to hold a grudge.
The thought of Joshua made Nathan look down the table. His son self-consciously kept a cap on all the time now, but it suited him. The dark and beautiful girl beside him sat close and Nathan realized with a start that she resembled Bethany enough to be her daughter. Rumors were that the two were very happy together, and Nathan was pleased with the match. Rumors also indicated that David cared for this girl.
He looked at the other end of the table where David sat. There were several of David's soldiers nearby, but he didn't take part in their conversation. It was as if an invisible barrier surrounded David. His son didn't look sad or uncomfortable, simply apart.Maybe that is the way he wants it,thought Nathan.He's his own person and has to make his own way.
