by P. D. Clover
“I like the way you think,” I said.
Soon we were crossing the railroad tracks that marked the unofficial boundary of the old paper-mill site. The paper-mill itself was long since gone, but the land and all the toxic chemicals used to make paper were still there. That was the main reason nothing else had ever been built there. No one wanted to take responsibility for the cleanup. Whoever did decide to bite the bullet and develop the land was required to first clean up all the toxic chemicals from the soil, per the EPA’s directive. The price tag was in the tens of millions. With that kind of dark cloud over the site, it would sit empty until the end of time. However, that very problem made the property a great place to dispose of inconvenient problems. Many a stolen car and RV had been parked and burnt down there. Lucky for us, I suppose.
I parked the U-Haul next the burnt-out shell of an old Winnebago, either stolen and destroyed or made to look that way for insurance money. I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. We grabbed our flannel over-shirts as early November in Tennessee isn’t really what anyone would call freezing, but it sure wasn’t warm either. Once outside of the truck, I tossed the keys in the floor of the cab, locked and shut the door. I knew there was no way to hold on to this thing without causing more suspicion than we already had. I also knew there was no way to keep the vandals out, so I figured why not make it a bit more of a pain for them. Who knows, maybe someone would use it for good and not just burn it.
I heard Matt on the other side of the truck, “We have eyes on us.”
“How many?” I whispered.
“Two sets” he said as he made his way over to me.
“Alright, let’s get to moving, we will follow this river down to the park, then come up get back on the roads. We are going to take the long way around just in case we get any more attention,” I whispered.
“Copy that…” Matt said in a subdued tone as he stowed his thermal optic.
We moved out following my suggested route and soon we were at the edge of the clearing about 150 yards away when I heard glass breaking behind us and the muffled sounds of teenage kids.
“So much for the truck, I imagine it will be a blaze soon, we need to get moving before anyone responds to it…” as soon as I had finished speaking there was a whoop, followed by a fire ball that lit up the sky. The concussion from the blast shook the ground and set off car alarms. The sound of it was indescribable. Movies and television don’t do real explosions the justice they deserve. The fireball sent into the sky by the 40-ish gallons of gasoline was incredible. I was watching the fireball climb into the clear night sky when I noticed something. It was like something from a bad sci-fi movie. Shooting stars of all makes and colors. It was glorious, like a scene from some 80’s apocalypse-themed B-movie.
“That’s amazing…” I said. I looked over at Matt and he was staring at the sky as well.
“This is what the videos out of China looked like. The sky full of bright, multicolored shooting stars. Like the sky is actually falling.”
“I guess it kind of is,” I said.
“Yeah, you’re right. Fuck man… I don’t know how we can pull this off.”
“We just have to stay low, keep to ourselves, and shoot anyone who looks like a problem. Easy... There’s only two or three thousand people in town, sixty-ish thousand in the county. No problem…” I said with fake cheer.
“Yeah… well, at least we don’t live in LA or any other major shithole…” Matt said.
“Amen to that...Now let’s get moving.”
We got on the road and walked up Bird St, then took a right on Westmoreland St. This brought us up to the front of my house. We walked briskly but heard sirens when we had made it to the corner of Summerset and Westmoreland. We separated and hid on opposite sides of the street. Soon, one lone Baldman cop car speed down Summerset toward the old papermill site, and we could still see the glow of the fire in the distance. One solo cop car was not a good sign. I wondered if their communications were still up.
After a moment, I walked back out to the middle of the street and waited. No sign of Matt. I considered breaking silence on the radios, but if he were trying to lay low for some reason, the sound from the radio could give him away. So, I moved to a shadowed spot in the gap between two streetlights and waited. After ten minutes, Matt came creeping out from behind a house on the corner, whose backyard he ducked into when the cop came by. Judging by the lack of sirens or additional police cars, I supposed the powers that be had decided to let the truck burn.
“Hey man, where were you?” I asked as I approached him quietly. He just put his finger to his lips and signaled to keep moving down the street towards home. After about a hundred yards from the intersection, I asked again, “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know man, I’m tired. I’m not sure, maybe I have been awake too long or too much stress..,” Matt said in a bit of a daze.
“What?”
“I thought I heard something... Not good… But when I got close to investigate, it stopped. Who lives there?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure Josh does. We can ask him tomorrow at the park during the neighborhood meeting... Or do you want to turn back now and take a harder look?” I asked.
“Nah, let’s talk to Josh and then we will go back tomorrow night with proper kit and take a look. I could just be tired,” Matt said.
“Copy that Bro, your call. Let’s get some rest,” I said as we made it to my home and started the walk up to the front door.
Chapter 19
We arrived back to the house last night just in time to get on the radio call with the guys. All of them were tucked in safely. Turned out everyone got my messages and took action. They just didn’t call me back, since they were occupied with carrying out their plans. They all texted me at various times, but for some reason I received everyone’s messages at the same time. This was something I would have to think about when time permitted. It didn’t sit right with me. As it stood, Mike had spent the evening before the event moving his brother, his brother’s family, as well as all their shit to Mikes, which was about 5 miles from me as the crow flies. So, they were all under one roof. Magnus had made it to his daughters in Wisconsin, where he had been prepositioning supplies for years. Max was still in Alabama where his little clan had circled the wagons at his compound. We were all as set as we could be. We agreed to talk every third day at midnight, eastern time, to share info. And I arranged a meeting with the Rorschach brothers in a few days.
I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes… Well, it was probably 10 a.m. or so, judging by the amount of light coming in. I got my tired muscles to start moving and carried my sore and exhausted self to the shower. A few minutes later, I was a new man. I grabbed some more ibuprofen and chewed them up, hoping it would take some of the ach out of my back and legs. I got dressed and put on my urban gun belt. Holstered my gen 3 Glock 22 with attached light, checked all my loaded mags and made sure my radio had a full charge, I ensured my knife and IFAK were attached and solid.
As I walked downstairs, I heard “DADDY!!!” My little troop of idiots were all at the table in various states of undress. All of them had their faces covered in syrup and my youngest daughter was scratching her head with her sticky fork. If I wasn’t wearing my gun belt, I would’ve thought this was any other day. Well, any other weekend... As things stood, this was not any other day, so I walked around and started kissing sticky faces and got myself a plate of food.
“Did Matt already come down?” I asked.
“Indeed, he did, my sleeping beauty,” Dee said as she got on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.
“It’s about time you recognized my station as royalty,” I said as I sat down.
“Since when is sleeping beauty royalty?” Dee asked laughing.
“She is a Disney Princess, right?” I said as I smugly ate my bacon.
“You have me there, Princess.”
“Now be a good servant and fetch me a cold b
everage,” I quipped.
“What was that?” Dee asked.
“Thank you for making breakfast my sweet, lovely wife!” I said as I got up to fetch my own cold beverage.
As I sat back down, I noticed I was down three pieces of bacon, and my troop of fools were giggling so hard they were probably about to pee themselves.
“Alright monkeys, where’s my bacon?”
My middle daughter turned to look at me and smiled, mouth stuffed with my stolen bacon.
“Yep, that’s what I get for walking away from my plate,” I nodded.
This was a game I always played with my kids, mostly to keep them at the table and eating. The game is, if they get up for something, I will eat all of whatever their favorite thing on their plate is. It would seem turnabout, is indeed fair play. Thankfully, my wife brought me over some extra eggs.
“No more bacon?” I asked.
She laughed, “Nope, we are rationing it.”
“Figures…”
“You started this game. It’s about time they got you,” Dee laughed.
As I continued eating, “What’s your plan for the day?”
“I figured the kids could play in their rooms, and I would break out that home school material we bought a few years ago. I thought it would be good to keep the kids in a routine. What about you?”
“Meeting at the park at Noon. I hope it’s to organize, but we will see… I need you to do me a favor wife.” I stopped shoveling food in my face. “I need you to stay armed and keep a radio on your person. Just in case.”
“Way ahead of you slugger…” she said as she lifted up the sides of her shirt, showing me her Glock 27 and radio.
“Yes, you are Boss… Welp, since somebody ate all my Bacon!!!!!” As I said this, my little fools started laughing uncontrollably. And my youngest daughter ran to the bathroom holding herself, which only made the other two laugh harder. “I am gonna go get the camper set up.” As I stood to go out, Dee walked over and said, “Something is up with Matt, he wasn’t himself this morning.”
“Yeah, something is off. He was weird last night on the way back. I’ll find out… Love you Boss!” I said as I gave her a kiss on the cheek and soft pat on the ass.
I walked outside to see Matt sitting over by the greenhouse that I built on top of my underground workshop. The workshop was built from the remnants of an old carriage house from a 100 years ago, that burnt down in the 1970’s.
“Hey man, what’s going on?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I thought I heard something last night, but I was so tired, I, I… we need to go back tonight and check that place out. Just sit on it, ya know?” Matt said intensely.
“No problem man…Care to share with the rest of the class what’s going on?” I asked.
“No,” he said flatly.
“Okay then, wanna help me set up the camper? Give you some privacy…or you are more than welcome to continue sharing a bathroom with the kids.”
“Fuck that, something is wrong with your kid’s digestions. No one’s poop should smell like that, it’s unnatural. They need an exorcism or something…they got shit demons.” Matt was smiling now.
“You’re not wrong.”
My heathens’ gastrointestinal odors were a thing of legend among my circle of friends. Most people think my tales of the demonic smelling flatulence of my brood are exaggerated, until they experience it themselves. I don’t know what it is, but the running joke is that they have shit demons in their bellies. Their doctor has assured us they are healthy and seemingly not possessed by stink demons, as near as he could tell. I wanted a second opinion, but Dee didn’t want to give the kids a complex… Complex my left foot! Those monsters know what power they wield, and they will use it as they see fit unfortunately. They think it to be hilarious, of course. One time we were at a pool party for some kids down the street. My son farted in the pool, so it was somewhat filtered. But the bubble of unholy foulness breached the surface next to some poor unsuspecting kid’s nose. He projectile vomited in the pool… It was amazing but simultaneously horrific to witness. I laughed uncontrollably. We have not been invited back.
“Well, shake off your odd mood. Let’s get the camper stabilized, the slide out, and water and electric hooked up…” I said as I stepped off the green house deck and went around the side of the house to the camper.
Matt followed, and we set up the camper in record time. The Grand Design Transend was a home unto itself. Once everything was connected and the jacks were down, we pulled the slide out and jumped in to make sure everything was running properly.
“Alright… Fridge is on, gas stove works, gas heat works, lights work, black and grey tanks are empty… Looks like everything is in order,” I said.
“We will need to insulate the water hose. And what are we going to do about the shit tank? I will fill that thing sooner rather than later.”
“All excellent points. I have some pipe insulation that should work in the basement. As for the black water tank…I do not know, but I have an idea… let me think on it some more. The pressing issue will be heat. You have two 30-pound propane tanks, but that is for cooking and heating… I do have a couple of those Harbor Freight wood stoves in the basement, that should make a big difference... What do you think?” I asked.
“I think I use propane for cooking and a wood stove for heating,” Matt said.
“I knew you were a smart man. Come on Einstein. I want to get to the park a little early.”
“Yeah, me too…” Matt said as his strange mood once again seemed to be coming over him.
I walked into the house to let Dee know where I was going and that I didn’t know when I would be back. She informed me that she is in fact, a grown woman... I’m not real sure what that meant, so I used what little wisdom I possessed and stopped talking. I smiled a toothy grin and walked out to meet Matt who was already in the alley and looking down it toward the park.
Chapter 20
I walked over to Matt, so I could see what he was looking at. Roughly a hundred people were already at the park, and it was still at least an hour out from Noon. The alley behind my house opened on the street directly across from the parks side entrance, giving us a clear line of sight to the park’s gazebo where people were beginning to gather.
The neighborhood was designed and built around the park. Hill Top Park was a jewel. The neighborhood was eleven blocks east to west and seven blocks north to south, with Hill Top Park literally on the very peak of the small hill that was the center of the neighborhood. The neighborhood was surrounded by a river on three sides, making it a small peninsula. Downtown bordered the north side of the neighborhood. The old historic downtown was literally down. The difference in elevation from the shops on main street to Hill Top park was about 500 feet. When the town was founded in the 1880s, the neighborhood was constructed for the wealthy landowners, as the area is rich in coal, gas, oil and various other minerals. Much of the mountains surrounding the town are still owned by family trusts that date back to the original land grab from the 1880s. Granted, most of the people who benefit from those trusts today have no idea they own land in the mountains of Tennessee, let alone the mountain land around my town.
As we walked towards the park I said, “Well, it would seem Josh really made the rounds last night.”
“It would appear so. Do you really know all these people?”
“Hell no, but I do know some of them. That group over there to the far left, the one that looks like a bunch of retired baby boomers having a coffee meet up?” I said, nodding to the group.
“Yeah,” Matt replied.
“Well, those are in fact a bunch of retired baby boomers… from out of state. Most retired and cashed-out their pensions or whatever and moved here to buy a big ole Victorian home that they could never afford in their home states,” I said coldly.
“Ah, so they took their money and ran from the taxes they voted for? Let me guess, all former Government workers?” Matt asked.
> “Very good Einstein. Yeah, most of them were state employees of some kind, mostly from up North but one or two from California. Remember a few years ago I told you about a group of people trying to turn the neighborhood into an HOA so they could make people take down their American flags?” I asked
“Let me guess, that’s the group?”
“Indeed, it is… They also vote for anything liberal. You can tell by walking past their homes and reading the signs in their yards. I suppose everyone needs a hobby…” I said trailing off and losing my train of thought. “Is that Bill?” I asked.
“Yep,” Matt said flatly.
We changed our direction and headed toward the group. I called out, “Bill!”
Bill turned to see who had called his name. When he saw who it was, I swear I could actually see the color drain from his face. Well…that is, the part of his face that wasn’t swollen and bruised.
“Bill, did I say you could attend?” I asked as chipper as a pig in shit.
“What? Since when do I need your permission?” Bill asked with some newfound confidence.
“Oh, sweet Bill. There are many things you are not aware of yet and believe me when I say, I will educate you. But right now, you need to get your capri wearing ass back to Dorothy’s house. Now!” I said flatly.
A member of the group I recognized interjected himself, “Henry, now, please… there is no need for this type of behavior. We are all…”
I cut him off. “I do not recall your name?” I asked staring him right in the eye.
He blinked and looked away, “I’m Jerry. Floyds partner. We live down on...”
I interrupted him again. “I know where you live Jerry. Now I would appreciate you staying out of my business. I understand that we don’t know each other, and it’s unfortunate we are meeting this way. But do not defend this maggot in anyway. If you do, understand you are choosing sides in something you know nothing about. How do you think Bill got to look that way?” I asked.
