Mr. Edict stood there for a moment, motionless, as he looked at the building. His hands in his black leather jacket, the collar pulled up, as he attempted to block some of the chilling wind which had started to disturb the flow of the falling flakes. With Tommy and Cherry, now standing behind him, he kept his eyes locked forward. Seemingly to himself, he spoke aloud, “When Washington was chosen to be the Commander of the Continental Army, he did so knowing the consciousness. All those who gathered together in this building knew what would happen and they knew that Washington wasn’t the only one who would suffer the fate.” Mr. Edict cocked his head to his left as he tossed a question towards the two behind him, “Do you know what that fate was?”
“No sir,” Tommy quickly answered back, this time a bit sheepishly for not knowing his history better.
“He would have been deemed a traitor to the crown and hanged for high treason. But don’t let that fool you, it wasn’t as pleasant as it sounded.” Mr. Edict paused as he shook his head side to side. “No, it wasn’t just that he would have to take the long walk to the gallows, it was the fact that there would be no walking at all involved which made this punishment one of the worst. You see he would have been dragged by a horse to the gallows, then, he would have been hanged by the neck. However, it wouldn’t have been like those westerns where they stand there and someone pulled a lever, allowing the weight of the body to quickly break the neck. Instead, they would string him up you might say. This allowed the maximum amount of pain before they would cut down the rope before he died. Then while he was still alive, they would cut his abdomen, pull out his intestines and burn them in front of his dying eyes. Finally, only then would he be killed by the process of beheading. After he was dead, his body would have been cut into four parts, and sent to the king of England.”
Tommy waited till Mr. Edict was done speaking, then simply said, “Wow!”
“Exactly,” Mr. Edict said, as he turned to face Tommy and Cherry, “Wow!” He answered with extreme enthusiasm He shook his head and took a step towards Tommy. “I wanted you to know that. I wanted you to know, that you are not the first man willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the good of a nation. Someday, maybe not right away, but someday, history will remember your name too!” Mr. Edict extended his right hand and patted Tommy on the shoulder. “Now, where do you want to set up for the shot?”
Tommy, now full of vigor and desire to serve his nation in the most dramatic way, stood tall and looked around. As he peered heavenly, to view the nearby possibilities. He had to shield his eyes some from the falling snow, which was had begun to be blown nearly sideways and doubled in rate of decent. The flakes had increased in size and grew heavier by each second. He slowly turned in a circle, as he looked from one position to the next, as he tried to imagine setting up a hide at each. He would occasionally peer back towards Independence Hall and where the stadium would be erected for the First Day Speech, then would quickly look back at the possible hide location. He did the best he could at calculating distance, elevation and possible wind tunnels that might be created by the surrounding buildings. Tommy wasn’t the most advanced when it came to the book smarts, but when it came to shooting a rifle, and hitting a target really, really far away, that was his natural, raw, specialty. Finally, he stopped spinning in circles, locked his gaze on one location, and nodded his head towards the spot he had picked, and answered, “There.”
Mr. Edict walked over and stood next to Tommy as he looked in the direction indicated. A confused expression came across his face as he saw the building picked. “There?” He asked.
“There,” Tommy calmly replied.
“Very well, I’ll make it happen,” Mr. Edict answered back.
10 Neighbors
Hive Outpost Y,
Former Provo, Utah
After a lot of long days of walking, the survivors of Zion were finally able to met up with Lance and the rest of the Hive. Once joined the two groups seemed to draw upon a renewed since of hope, as their speed only increased towards their goal. Now, within the shadow of the Hive, a spark of relief seemed to have sprouted in everyones heart. For many it was the first real sign that they would somehow survive this latest trial somehow. A whisper of victory seemed to have been gently laid upon all in the trek. It was so close, yet so was failure and death.
Soon they reached the outlining Hive team members and outpost. From there on to where they now rested, they leap frogged from one Hive outpost to the next. Staying where they could during the night. Each outpost provided much-needed food, water, and fuel. The leapfrog pattern, hopping from one spot to next, not only provided much-needed supplies, but it reduced the exposure time of each outpost. It was through the meticulous juggling of each outpost, ensuring that one wasn’t extended beyond its capability, which made the Hive such a success.
Much like how German citizen would hide Jews during World War II, or how slaves were moved from the South to the North during the American Civil War, the Members of the Hive, faired the Zion Camp survivors, and passed them on, one to another. It was in the limiting of the responsibility, which allowed the outpost to be smaller in size and thus extending the reach of the Hive. As Brother Ben would often say, small is a relative term, and in the case of the Hive and their outpost, small, does not adequately describe their capabilities as a whole. It was their reach, with the use of their Members, that deemed the Hive, the most powerful and most proficient resistance camp within the occupied zone.
Ms. White stood at the back door of an old, red brick, ranch style home, as she looked out the window built within the door. She used her right hand to pull the thin lace curtain off to one side, to gain an unobstructed view of the setting sun and the houses across the street. In the background, voices could be heard, carrying on multiple conversations, as others worked in the kitchen cooking up a dinner large enough for a small army. She held a blue mug, with a white Y on it, in her left hand. The hot cocoa, which resided within its confines, radiated its warmth out onto the fingers on her left hand. She pulled it up to her lips, her eyes still affixed outward, then without thinking she took a sip. A mistake she instantly realized, when the hot liquid pushed past her lips. “Hot!” She said aloud without even realizing it.
“Ha!” Lance laughed out loud as he walked up to Ms. White. “You got to watch out for Mrs. Jackson's hot cocoa! I think she uses dragons breath or something to heat it up.”
Ms. White looked accusingly at the warm brown liquid in her mug. Two miniature marshmallows danced around one another, oblivious to their role in the bigger picture. To them, the warmth of the liquid was soothing, the space grand and their life expectancy was limitless. As she looked down, she wondered how much her and those marshmallows were alike, each ignorant to the danger lurking within their reach, only a breath away. “That is some information I could have used about a minute ago. But thanks anyway, I’ll be sure to remember it.” She pulled her gaze away from the window and looked across kitchen towards the gray haired woman feverishly working hunched over the stove. “So is she part of the Hive I’ve been told so much about?”
Lance smiled as he turned and looked in the same direction, “You could say that.”
“So this Hive,” Ms. White started as she pulled her mug upwards again, but this time held it just shy of her lips before she blew on it some. Her breath pushing the marshmallows, now nearly all melted, off to the opposite side. Then after taking another sip, she continued, “I’m guessing then, it’s more of a collective than an actual location. I’m guessing that’s why no one really knows of its size or its whereabouts?”
Lance just smiled as he folded his arms and leaned up against the nearby wall, “Let’s just say, we like our privacy and we take care of our own.”
“Like Mrs. Jackson?” Ms. White quickly asked back, grabbing another glance at the elderly woman.
“Yep, like Mrs. Jackson. She has been with us since the beginning. Like all of the other outpost we used to get here, and like the houses, the rest
of your team members are residing in tonight.” Lance answered back. “We work as one, with one goal in mind and with one purpose.”
“And what purpose is that?” Ms. White asked as she repositioned herself so that she could glance out through the window, without having to hold the curtain to one side.
Lance shrugged his shoulders, shooting a quick glance out passed the lace drapes, then finally answered, “The same purpose as you, I would imagine. Regaining our freedoms, and restoring this land to America we all knew and loved.”
“What is the Hive willing to do to ensure that we do see that America again? What are they willing to sacrifice if needed?” Ms. White asked, as she held the mug, both hands now wrapped around its deep blue ceramic.
Again Lance smiled, “You sure ask a lot of questions for someone who is supposedly a guest.”
Now it was Ms. White’s turn to shrug her shoulders, “What can I say, I’m a curious type of girl.” She then flashed her trademark smile in hopes that it would have the same effect it has had on so many men before.
“I bet that works a lot, with that smile of yours,” Lance said with a smirk. He then held up his left hand and pointed to worn and simple gold band around his ring finger, “It’s a lovely smile, it truly is, but she already has my heart.” He stood up straight and fixed his shirt. He looked at Ms. White who at peered out the back window once again. “Their safe, I promise you that.”
Ms. White just nodded at first, then still keeping her eyes outward she replied, “I’m sure that is the case, but that doesn’t stop a mother from worrying.” She then quickly followed up with the question, “All the houses my people are staying in, they are all vetted and part of the Hive?” A thin coat of worry accompanied her question.
“Yep, I made sure to use only the most experienced for this assignment. Trust me, your people are safe. They will should be able get a good nights rest. Then tomorrow you and I and a few others will make the final push to the Hive. Once we get there, Brother Ben, you and Butch can discuss where to go from there.” Lance said. He gave a slight nod with his head and began to turn back down the hallway.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Ms. White said before he got too far away.
“Sure, free country, well it was.” Lance quickly replied.
“What were you before the lights went out?” Ms. White asked before taking another sip of the hot cocoa, which had finally cooled down enough to get an adequate amount at a time.
Lance shrugged his shoulders, “I guess the same thing that I am now, a Patriot.” He smiled then continued, “I promise you this, you and your people will be safe and taken care of.” He looked Ms. White up and down, then added, “You should get some rest too, it’s not easy always being the one in charge.”
At first Ms. White was almost offended by his comment, indicating that she looked haggard or such, but then quickly acknowledged that she most likely did. She nodded graciously, “I greatly appreciate that…”
Ms. White’s reply was sliced off mid sentence by the slamming of the front door, as one of the local Hive members came busting through it, “Lance! Has anyone seen Lance?” The voice shouted shouted down the hall. Fear encasing every word.
Lance turned, a bit angrily, loud noises and useless commotion was something they could do without tonight, especially considering the number of guests they were trying to keep undercover. “Back here,” He called, his tone rattled.
A middle-aged man, a bit on the heavy side, with a receding hairline, stumbled his way towards the back hallway, till he found Lance. He took a moment to catch his breath before he spoke up hurriedly, “A patrol, we saw a patrol.” His words tripped over one another and came out in between puffs of heavy breaths.
Lance shook his head some, a bit confused by the sudden need to come rushing over, just to say they saw a patrol. After all, it was past curfew and roaming security patrols by the local Regionals was a very common event. “And, why the big worry?”
“Because it was a Russian patrol!” The man quickly blurted out, small spittle accompanied the statement.
This last bit did catch Lance completely off guard. First the flyover by the Mig’s and now a roaming Russian patrol. “Are you sure? I mean it’s getting dark out and maybe you just mistook them as Russian’s and they were just some local Regionals?”
“No!” The man quickly said as he shook his head back and forth. “No mistake, I saw it with my own eyes, they were Russian.”
“Okay, where?” Lance asked, finally believing the man.
“Over by the Triples’ house, maybe five minutes ago.” The man answered as he placed a hand on the hallway wall, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath a bit more, and allow his heart rate to slow a beat or two.
“Good job,” Lance said as he patted the man on the shoulder. “Stay here and get some rest for a little bit. Dinner is almost ready.” He then turned and looked towards Ms. White, “You might want to come with me.”
Ms. White quickly put the mug down on a small table next to the back door and took a few steps before she stopped, “Wait, I want a few of my guys with me.”
Lance looked at her for a second and then replied, “I really don’t have to time to go gather your men.”
“AJ, Dave, and the Sheriff, I think they are at the Lopez house and the Millers.” She quickly answered back, and they are coming with us. The last bit she said, jabbing the words at Lance for emphasis.
Lance nodded then looked at the man who had delivered the news. “Sorry, need you to go back out. Go to the Millers and Lopez and get these three guys. Also get Zeke. Tell them all to meet near the Triples’ house. There’s that playground there. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” The man said before he stood back up right, turned and head quickly back out the front door.
Lance and Ms. White grabbed a little bit of gear, and they too soon exited out of the front door. Most houses didn’t have front porch lights anymore, allowing the pair to stay hidden within the shadows of the night. It wasn’t like the olden days when people would enjoy these brisk cool nights, visiting with neighbors, or just admiring the beauty of Gods creation. Now once curfew arrived, people quickly made their way inside, shut their doors and remind till morning. The Regional patrols at night, were sporadic and difficult to time. Thus even members of the Hive, stayed inside at night, which reduced the risk of not only them being caught, but the risk of the entire hiving being brought down.
With a clear sky above and half a moon in the night sky, Lance and Ms. White were able to maneuver fairly easy towards the house in question. There hadn’t been any snowfall for the past two days, which helped in their cause to remain hidden. If fresh snow had fallen that night, their tracks would have stood out, and would have triggered alarms by any nightly patrol that might have seen them. The two stayed hunched over as they quickly leaped from one shadow to the next, as they slowly approached their target.
The lack of porch lights, along with all the households windows being drawn shut, gave an eerily feel to the neighborhood. As they passed a small playground, consisting of an open field, a slide, some swings and a jungle gym, Ms. White couldn’t help but feel a chill run through her. As the swings creaked back and forth, being gently nudged by the night breeze, she felt like she had stepped into an apocalyptic landscape. She half expected Zombies to come lumbering around any corner. She had been all around the world, dealt with destruction, villages that had been completely annihilated and death manufactured on a massive scale. That she was somehow fine with, this, however. There was just something inherently creepy about an abandoned child's playground.
Near the edge of the open field were four large tractor tires, buried partially in the ground. They were standing upright, close to one another allowing kids to crawl through them, like a tunnel. Each had once been painted in vibrant primary colors. One was red, then blue, another yellow, and finally one white. The paint had since begun to fade and chip off, gone were the funds to be applied to the upkeep
of such frivolities. It was here though, that Lance and Ms. White crouched down as they awaited the arrival of the others.
Lance knelt down and leaned up against the white tire, as he tried to look over the top of them. He looked around briefly before he turned to Ms. White, who had knelt down beside him, “My kids use to play here when visiting my parents.” His comment was a half whisper, half thoughtfulness.
Ms. White followed his gaze, towards the swing set and the slide, “It looks like a nice playground, like a nice neighborhood.”
Lance half smiled at the comment, “It was, and it will be again. Someday, first, though we have to find out what’s going on.”
It was about that time that the others, Zeke, Dave, AJ and the Sheriff showed up. All four rushed in next to Ms. White and Lance, as they too, tried to crouch down and hide from any light.
“What’s going on?” Zeke asked as he tried to stay balanced on the balls of his feet, while crouched down.
Lance turned back some and looked at Zeke, then looked at all the others who had gathered. The group now consisting of six grown adults, had surpassed the ability to safely hide behind hind four buried tractor tiers. “Ned said he saw a Russian patrol roaming the neighborhood around here.”
Muster Page 11