Uprising: Book 2 in the After the Fall Series

by David Nees

  Joe had not understood what the electromagnetic pulse was when it occurred. But he was not stupid and he was used to functioning in chaotic environments. After the EMP attack, Joe’s first action had been to find out what the hell had happened, and then he had sat down to figure out what to do about it. Joe did not have a victim’s mentality. He would work this event to his advantage, and would spend no time lamenting the change. This was a chance to redefine himself. If society was going to be altered, Joe decided he would alter his status in the new order. He would run the town. Action was needed.

  Tonight he was angry. The town was still not fully under control in spite of his efforts. Refugees presented a constant unwelcome pressure, along with the danger of the outlaws among them who infiltrated and stole weapons and food. They were desperate. Joe didn’t like dealing with desperate people; they were unpredictable. But now he faced a different problem, one he didn’t need…and wouldn’t tolerate.

  Frank Mason arrived first. He was the political leader of the town, head of the Safety Committee and the presumptive mayor. It was night, but the entrance was lit by a single floodlight. Precious fuel was used to keep the entrance lit, allowing Joe’s armed guards to check everyone entering the building. Frank made his way up four flights of stairs into a private suite. The room was dimly lit by oil lamps that still struck Frank as starkly out of place in such a modern office. There was not enough electricity to light the offices of even someone as important as Joe. The rich aroma of a Diamond Crown cigar permeated the air. Joe sat behind an imposing desk and motioned for Frank to take a chair on the other side.

  “What’s up, Joe?” Frank asked as he sat down.

  “Something to drink?” Joe responded.

  “If you’re pouring some good stuff, not the crap they’re making here.”

  Joe got up and went to the cabinet on the side wall, took out a bottle of Maker’s Mark, and poured Frank a couple of fingers. “No ice, but it’s supposed to be better this way.” Ironically, ice was only available in the winter months. He handed the glass to Frank. “Let’s wait for Charlie.”

  Just then Charlie came through the door. “Sorry I’m late, the car I’m using…had trouble getting it running. These old cars work but they’re a pain to keep running sometimes…bad gas, I think.”

  Charlie Cook, the chief of police, was the other public face of leadership and authority in Hillsboro. He was older than Frank and Joe. He had white hair and a soft, friendly face that gave him a grandfatherly look. The look seemed to work in Frank’s estimation. He was once a tough cop, but now had grown relaxed and easygoing; taking on more the role of a PR person than a serious law enforcement officer.

  “You want a drink?” Joe asked.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Charlie replied. He inhaled the aroma from Joe’s cigar, grimaced and took out one of his precious cigarettes. Joe motioned for him to sit next to Frank.

  After some silence as the men savored the bourbon, Frank asked again, “So what’s up? Why the meeting?”

  Joe leaned back in his chair and looked hard at the two men. “I allowed you two to run things here in town. But you let me down—”

  “What do you mean?” Charlie asked.

  “Don’t interrupt me. I’m not happy with what’s going on. You understand what that means?” Joe leaned forward, giving both men a long, dangerous look.

  “What’s the problem?” Frank asked. “The city isn’t completely under control, but we’re better off than most of the others. These are hard times. You know that.”

  “I know I don’t like what I see developing.”

  “What are you talking about?” Frank asked.

  “Two nights ago my men picked up someone for a curfew violation—”

  “I didn’t see anyone brought into the jail,” Charlie said.

  “I told you, don’t interrupt me.” Joe locked his gaze on Charlie and stared at him until Charlie finally lowered his eyes. “The guy was an engineer. He told an interesting tale about a group of people, some of the technical people, who are not happy with things in Hillsboro.”

  “A lot of people aren’t happy with things. It changes day to day,” Frank said. “But you’re not suggesting there’s anything more going on, are you?”

  “Something more than just small groups causing trouble is going on and I’m not gonna let it become a revolt,” Joe said.

  “You said he was an engineer. What’s happened to him?” Charlie asked.

  “That’s not a question you want to ask, Charlie,” Joe said, again staring the hapless chief of police down.

  He jammed his cigar out in the ashtray and stood up. “I let you two pretend to run the town. I collected the resources. I stole the goods from the other towns. I made sure everyone was fed. And both of you enjoyed the benefits.” He began to pace back and forth. “And now you don’t even know something is going on behind our backs.” He stopped and leaned over the desk. He stared at the two men. “What the hell good are you?”

  Frank swallowed hard. “Charlie and I present the face of civic authority to the public. You operate in the background, that’s how we work it. The people are taken care of and everyone’s happy.”

  Frank had been a politician since well before the attack. He was a natural. He was adroit at maneuvering with power brokers and finding the winning side on any issue. He had consolidated his power after the attack by working with Joe and Charlie, and now he was the single public persona of power and authority in Hillsboro.

  Joe turned on him, his voice low and threatening. “Then why is there a revolt being planned? One neither of you dumb fucks know about?”

  Frank didn’t answer. Charlie had nothing to say. It seemed best to wait out Joe’s anger.

  “I provide what this city needs—uses. I’m the one.” Joe thumped his chest. “Do I get any thanks? No, I get some smart-ass technicians plotting to replace me.” He was shouting now. “Me. I’m the reason they’re fed, I’m the reason no gangs have overrun the town. Now they’re objecting to me running things? I’ll show ‘em what happens if they step out of line—I’ll take them out. I’m not putting up with it.” He sat down and, for the moment, seemed to Frank to be over his rant.

  Frank tentatively ventured back to the subject. “Will letting them know the local gangster is the real power in our town help? No insult intended.”

  Joe gave him a nasty look but didn’t say anything, so Frank went on. “The main Army force has moved on. There’s only a platoon left behind. We’ve got Captain Roper in our pocket, sending good reports to Colonel Stillman and keeping that lieutenant out of our hair. We’re getting stronger and we’re in better shape than all the other towns around to weather the next tide of refugees. Isn’t that the game? To keep the citizens safe and fed and they’ll support us when things return to normal?”

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “You think things are gonna return to normal any time soon?” Frank didn’t respond. “And if everyone’s so happy, again, why the fuck am I uncovering a revolt? I’m not going to let this go on. You know what happens to disloyal people? They get whacked.” He looked from Frank to Charlie. “Don’t forget it.

  “It’s time to take the gloves off,” he continued. “I’m going to root out this revolt and bury it. Everyone’s got to know who’s boss and who’s in charge…and that ain’t you two.”

  “So what do you want to do? You want to be mayor? I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Frank said.

  “Worried about your role? Maybe about your cut? Or do you just want to protect your title? We got people thinking they can change things. They get comfortable and start thinking they know better how to run things.” He thumped his chest again. “I run things in this town.”

  “Joe, don’t go overboard,” Charlie pleaded. “Let me dig into this and find out how deep it goes. I can talk with people; find out more of what’s happening. We don’t need to get everyone all riled up.”

  “You won’t get to the bottom of it. You didn’t even know this was going
on, and you still wouldn’t have if your men had picked up this guy. He’d give you some bullshit excuse for being out and you’d slap his wrist. I’m keeping everyone safe and fed and this is what happens? I’ll make them sorry they ever thought to cross me.”

  “Joe.” Frank leaned forward with his most persuasive voice. “Not everyone is against you. This may be only a small group. A group we can root out and shut down. Let’s not attack the whole population and get everyone upset. Remember, most of the people are happy to be kept safe and fed. They’ll go along with us…with you. And if we…you, don’t alienate them.”

  “So you want me to keep being nice and stay in the background, that what you’re suggesting?”

  “For now, don’t change things. Let Charlie and me get to the bottom of this.”

  Frank watched Joe digest what he had said. His comments were self-serving, but he knew Joe would see he had a point. He understood his role was to sell stability to the citizens, and that ability gave him a certain amount of power and leverage.

  “And another thing,” Joe said. “Everyone’s now talking about this group of farmers in the valley that wiped out Big Jacks and his gang. They’re building them up like they’re some kind of heroes. That guy, Jason. People are making him into a celebrity. That don’t help. I’m telling you, it makes these people in town think they don’t have to follow the rules.”

  “Just give us some time to check the problem out,” Frank said again.

  “I’ll be nice for now, but we’re going to let the public know that I’m in charge. I’m not going to argue about it. You’re both here because I made my decision. I’m going to be the Director of Resources.”

  Charlie shook his head, looking down at the floor. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t care what you think. You just need to do your job…and that means following my orders. I want you two to get this publicized.”

  Frank sighed. He knew this was the new card he was going to have to play. But Charlie didn’t get it. There was a time to protest and a time to just play the cards the way they fell. That was what he was going to do.

  He sighed and held up his glass. “How about a refill?”

  The next morning Charlie and his wife, Mary, were sitting at the kitchen table enjoying some coffee with breakfast. There was a limited supply, which made the brew all the more to be savored.

  “I didn’t hear you come in last night. What kept you out so late?” Mary said.

  “A meeting downtown, with Frank and some others. The planning work never stops. Sometimes it seems we talk more than we do things.”

  “Well, you and I need to talk as well. I haven’t had a word with you for two days,” she said.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Do you remember Donna Bishop?”

  Charlie looked blankly at her.

  “She works at the same food center where I volunteer. She’s married to Jim, the engineer who worked on the wiring for your headquarters, you know, to get the electricity going.”

  Charlie nodded.

  “Well, I talked with Donna yesterday, and she said Jim hadn’t come home the night before from a meeting he went to. She wanted to know if your men had picked him up, you know, maybe he’d been out after curfew?”

  Charlie stared back at his wife. A knot was slowly forming in his stomach.

  “I told her I didn’t know but I would check with you. She asked if you could help find him. She’s worried. They have a five-year-old son.” She paused, then added, “It’s not like anyone gets lost nowadays.”

  Charlie just kept looking at Mary.

  “Charlie? Is something wrong?” Mary looked at her husband. “Answer me.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I haven’t heard anything and we didn’t pick anyone up that night.”

  He could feel her eyes on him. They had been married for twenty-five years and she could read him like a book. “Well, let me know if you find anything out,” she said. “You know, when a family loses one of the adults, it’s especially hard on them in these times.”

  “I’ll do that,” Charlie said, getting up. He went back into the bedroom and got his hat. At the front door, he kissed Mary. “Maybe you can let Donna know I’ll do what I can. But you know I can’t work magic.”

  “I will, but I know you, Charlie Cook. Something’s not right. I can see it in your face. I hope you’ll tell me about it.”

  “Things are fine. It’s just that the job has stress and some of that stress doesn’t go away, even when things begin to get better. I gotta go.” He kissed her again and headed quickly out of the door.

  Chapter 4

  ___________________________________

  O ne morning, as Jason was leaving to inspect his fields, he stepped out on the front porch and stopped in his tracks. There, standing in the yard, were six men. They were dressed in a mix of mismatched clothing. Two wore full buckskin breeches, while the other four wore patched jeans or wool pants; all but one had on deerskin tunics either alone or over ragged cloth shirts, with the last wearing an oversized sweatshirt. They all wore tattered caps, some woolen and some baseball. They had long hair and most had beards. The men were armed with rifles, either slung over their shoulders or resting with the butts on the ground.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” he asked the group.

  One man took a step forward. He was tall and lanky with a sinewy strength showing in his movements. He had light brown hair and bright, sharp hazel eyes. “We from up north, near Linville Falls. You Jason?”

  Jason nodded, watching the man.

  “We come to talk. Heard you was gonna trade with Hillsboro,” the man said.

  “That’s right. You want to come up and sit down?”

  “We be fine here,” the man replied.

  Jason nodded, thought about the reply, and carefully sat down on the porch steps. Strangers always presented a tense moment. The men in the yard sat or squatted on the ground and cradled their rifles in their laps.

  Suddenly the front door opened behind him. “Jason, what is going on?” Anne exclaimed, starting to come out. Jason got back up. He wasn’t sure what effect a woman would have on these men.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the men in the yard and turned to go into the house. The strangers didn’t move, but he was aware of some of them tensing up and shifting their rifles.

  As Jason stepped inside the door, Anne looked at him. “Who are those men? Are they dangerous?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so. They know who I am and they want to talk. Something about our trading with Hillsboro.”

  “Should we get our rifles?” Anne asked, not with alarm. She had been through enough with Jason to know what to do.

  “You and Sarah go up to the shooting positions on the second floor…quietly. If anything goes wrong, you can cover me. I think I’ll be fine, but—”

  “I know. We always err on the side of caution. Be careful out there.” She kissed him and headed for the stairs.

  Jason went back out to the porch and sat down again on the steps. The men in the yard still looked tense. “My wife is understandably nervous about strangers. We’ve had our share of bandits coming around.”

  The leader nodded. “We ain’t bandits. If we was, we wouldn’t be a-talkin’.” He had a very old-fashioned, Appalachian Mountain accent.

  Jason cracked a slight smile in agreement. “So what do you want to talk about?”

  “Talk about trading with Hillsboro.”

  Jason stared at the man. “You know my name, what’s yours?”

  The man stared back at Jason, looking him solidly in the eye, never wavering, his face opaque, unreadable. “We’uns Jessup and Early clans. I’m Clayton Jessup.”

  “You’ve come a ways. How did you hear about me…and how did you find me?”

  “We heard about the gang you whupped at the bridge. We know this valley, some of us related to Turners…you go back couple of generations.”

  Jaso
n was surprised. “You heard about the fight clear up there?”

  “Word gets out,” Clayton replied.

  “So you live in Linville Falls?”

  “In the area. We don’t live in a town. Ain’t safe there. Where we live, ain’t no roads or towns.”

  “Well, I’m glad to meet you, Clayton. So what do you want to know about the trading?”

  “We wanna join in. We got skins, meat, and herbs. We lookin’ to trade for ammunition, boots, some soap, tobacco.”

  “You aren’t trading up north?”

  “Only small villages near us up north and they all empty. Johnson City be the biggest town. It’s run by a crazy man. We don’t go near it.”

  “You live in the woods. Why don’t you farm?”

  “Can’t farm much where we live, but we grow a bit, we get along.”

  “How many of you are there?” Jason wondered out loud.

  Clayton didn’t answer, just stared at Jason with an unfathomable look. “We enough,” he finally said.

  “Didn’t mean to pry. If it was up to me, I’d be glad to have you come along with us. But I have to ask the others. We’ve formed a group to work together.”

  “We ain’t interested in no group. We just want to trade. Looks like you got that set up, from what we hear.”

  “You’ve come a ways. I guess you want an answer now.”

  “We can wait a day. If you can get an answer, we come back tomorrow.”

  “I can do that,” Jason said.

  “We be back tomorrow morning,” Clayton said, getting up. The others rose with him, and the group turned and headed off into the woods, melting away in the trees.

  Jason watched them go. Just then Anne and Sarah came out.

  “That was very strange,” Anne said.

  “Very strange,” Jason replied. “It was like talking to colonial frontiersmen.”