Indivisible (Overlooked by Liberty)

by Blair Smith

  "Let him go!" Helen ordered the rebel guarding Junco. The man didn't respond. He just looked to Tumult.

  Tumult turned around on hearing her. At first he just stared, his stub of a nose the focal point on his face. Wolfenstein caught up and stood beside her.

  "Wolf, you ran off to find a skirt to hide behind?" Tumult razzed. "That slut gets around." He looked about, "Where's the mutt? I'll put a bullet in that dog's head if you don't control it."

  Helen and Tumult stared at one another. Tater's death--another reminder of why she hated him. "We won't be needing your help, thank you," she spat out, "so get out."

  "Is that the gratitude I get? Snake and me were shooting the Feds up from behind. That's the reason they didn't overrun this bunch of queer, afro lovers. Piss, the Feds had a pit bull on their ass."

  "So, you're not leaving?"

  "Let's say, I have some unfinished business," Tumult grinned lecherously.

  Helen looked at Junco, then to Wolf. She turned back to Tumult and spoke in a low, possessed voice, articulating every syllable for all to hear: "You shouldn't have shot Chaos. And you shouldn't have killed the President's boy."

  "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, bitch," Tumult sneered.

  "You know what I'm talking about, Ray. Chaos told me himself," Helen accused. "You killed the President's boy at the Balsams, and you shot your brother." Attack pack leaders began looking at one another. They knew that only those closest to Tumult knew his real name.

  "The Balsams blast? I wish I had." Tumult struggled to turn the subject away from Chaos. "The fact is, I had nothin' to do with the bombing." Gesturing around him, "These boys can back me up on that one."

  Wolfenstein saw her hand move to the butt of the gun in her belt. "Be careful, Helen," he whispered.

  "It doesn't change the fact that you're not welcome here," Helen stated resolutely. "Now please, leave!"

  Tumult put his hand on the grip of his Glock autopistol holstered on his side. "You can go back to changing bedpans, bitch." He looked around himself at his pack leaders; "I'm in charge. My will decides."

  Ferman stood beside Tumult. He was one of Tumult's most loyal pack leaders but he could tell that not everyone was in favor of going with Tumult. A large group stood beside and around Helen, some of them with their hands on their guns. Glitch even moved around closer to Helen's side. Ferman whispered to Tumult, "Look around you, boss. Don't pull that gun, boss."

  Glitch, the old and weathered techie for Tumult's triad considered his stand as he rubbed his scarred thumb on his forefinger. He relocated to Helen's side. "Tumult shot Chaos," Glitch spoke out.

  "Oh, come on, Glitch" Ferman retorted "a satel--"

  "No! I was there. He told everybody it was a satellite, but I was there. He was talking to Chaos through the laser when he pushed the button. I saw it, Ferman. Snake will believe me."

  "Piss, Glitch. You old fart," Tumult scoffed. "You don't know when your tellin' the truth."

  The pack leaders loyal to Helen began to slowly spread out to the sides for better position. Both Virginian rebels stepped up the hill to higher ground. Everyone held a rifle or had their hand on an autopistol butt. Wolfenstein placed his hand over Helen's, which she now had on the gun grip behind her. "Hold it, Helen," he whispered. "Don't start it."

  "We got to let them go, boss, or there's going to be a shoot-out," Ferman whispered to Tumult in a nasal voice.

  "My will decides!" Tumult boomed. The adrenaline was flowing. He could see it might come to a gunfight.

  "Tumult won't back down," Wolf murmured to Helen. "I know him. You've got to give him a way out. He won't."

  "Jesus, Boss! I don't want to get shot over this," Ferman whined softly. "The rest of our attack packs are over the hill. Let's back off 'til we get the rest of them. We can come back here later."

  Tumult grew tired of Ferman's whimpering, "Ferman, this is why I'm the leader. You never understood the teachings of the master race: 'Strength lies in attack.' My will decides." Tumult pulled his gun and leveled it at Helen, pulling off two rounds as he was bombarded by bullets from all directions. One of Tumult's bullets went wide and hit a Colebrook Mountain Boy in the ribs. The second bullet skimmed Wolfenstein's shoulder and struck a rebel standing behind them squarely in the chest.

  Ferman and the pack leaders surrounding Tumult tried to back away in retreat. Some of them were struck by the swarm of bullets shot at Tumult; he died before he hit the ground.

  "Hold it! Hold it! Hold it!" A number of them yelled. The Virginians stepped in front of Tumult's pack leaders, "No more shooting!" They yelled repeatedly.

  Helen pointed her gun at Junco's guard. "Now, let him go," she ordered. The man guarding Junco backed off into the crowd.

  "I don't understand this. You guys are pointin' guns at us?" Ferman spoke out in his high nasal voice. When Snake finds out, he's going to be pissed. Covenant leader or not, he'll shoot her ass for this. And you, Glitch, what's with you? You're on the wrong side, buddy. You can take care of this with Snake. I'm not tellin' him. You're going to have to talk him down."

  Before leaving, Ferman approached Helen, "Ma'am, I just want to clear something up. I don't know about Chaos getting shot but we had nothing to do with that Balsams bombing that killed the President's kid. We were in Vermont at the time. You gotta believe that."

  Helen stared him off as the packs collected their gear to head north. Junco got up and thanked her before heading to his bunker. Wolfenstein stuffed gauze under his shirt to stop the bleeding; it wasn't serious. What was serious was the direction they chose from here. Helen looked around herself at the rebels, a force that had held off an advance of the United States Army. Somehow through Butch and Thad's Ghost Pack activity they had vowed an allegiance to her. From the surrounding slopes, her ragtag Mountain Boys looked to her to say something.

  Without the clamor of battle, breezes could be heard stirring the trees, catching the fragrance of pine, and casting it to the wind. The vapors that had ebbed and flowed in still air so freely throughout the day, had been pushed away. And the sparrow near Helen's bunker that had ridden out the shelling of day, now slept.

  The White House (later the next day)

  Billy Winifred walked into the room. "Say, Champ!" said the President "No, I'm sorry. Now I should call you 'the rugged one,'" Clifford Winifred hugged his boy. Ever since his son had returned, that urge to hug Billy was always there.

  When the Colebrook Covenant realized that the President's son was in their midst, they reserved seats on a flight out of Montreal and delivered the boy the next day. Not only did the Covenants want to demonstrate good will by bringing back Billy Winifred unconditionally, they also wanted to discuss a more permanent solution to the crisis.

  The Feds were in an awkward position: The Covenants controlled northern Vermont and New Hampshire. When the fight began for Dixville Mountain, the newly formed Boston Covenant launched raids on the Guard Armories in eastern Massachusetts. The Wizard's Ghost Packs now controlled the city; the gangs had been driven out. Winifred feared that other cities would form covenants, the White House scheme of controlling the population hubs to stay in power was fading.

  Billy smiled, "Did you meet The Wizard yet? He's slick. Butch used to say he can do just about anything."

  His father looked puzzled. "So you and Butch think The Wizard is slick."

  The President's physician entered the room: "He's fine. He was singed pretty good and there was a cut on his thumb; that's healed up. But other than the scratches and bruises of being a boy, he's fine."

  Lucas joined the group around Billy. "So how did you survive the blast?" Lucas asked.

  "That's how I met my friends Butch and Thad. See, the blast blew me off the rock into the water. They were in the gully nearby and came and pulled me out. I thought I died. See, they kept me in their h
ideout and fed me and everything."

  The President turned and smiled at the others with unrestrained pride, "We'll have to give those boys a special award for bravery. Maybe we can get them out of there, too."

  "Can't do that, Dad. Butch was murdered." Billy's comment startled the men. "See, we tried to take a tank and Butch got shot. Two others in our attack pack got shot and died too. Thad is the last survivor from the Dixville Massacre."

  They all looked at one another confused. The note they had read from Thad mentioned the Massacre and Ghost Packs; they assumed the boys were being held captive. President Winifred was compelled to clarify, "Attack packs? Tanks? Who were you boys fighting?"

  "The Feds." Billy's voice lowered, "We hate the Feds. They captured us, but Thad escaped; he's the fastest runner in the Pack, you know. Thad rounded up the town, and we got those tanks in the end. Thad and me rode up in it to show them where to go. Thad's rugged." Excitement beamed from Billy. "The Feds got their asses wiped that day." The statement widened the onlooker's eyes. Some Rousell lingo had invaded his speech.

  Lucas Bennett said it without thinking: "Billy, we are the Feds."

  The glint in Billy Winifred's eyes changed to confusion. Then to disappointment. The look of shame Bill shot at his father would haunt the President for decades to come.

  Balsams Pond, New Hampshire (August 11)

  Thad stood on a boulder above Balsams Pond, fishing. Helen and Chaos sat on a grassy knoll overlooking Thad, with the resort's charred remains in the background. Though the structure made by mortals lay desolate, traces of bright green speckled the scorched woods surrounding the resort, life's eternal ability to start anew. High sun of late August baked Helen's bare legs as she propped herself up with both elbows to soak her face with the remaining rays of summer. Breathing deeply, she took in the fragrances of hemlocks and goldenrod before fall kills and winter covers nature with her blanket of snow.

  Chaos' head was still wrapped. He relaxed flat on his back with his black, Mail Pouch Tobacco hat over his face. They sat on a large blanket, a cooler and picnic basket beside it.

  Helen watched Thad from the other side of the pond. "Do you think Thad will ever talk again?"

  "I expect so," said Chaos with his baseball hat still over his face. He lifted his hat and sat up to look at the slender, brown-haired boy casting into the water. "Is he a keeper?"

  "He is a keeper. His mother abandoned him, and I plan on adopting the boy." Helen had realized through the ordeal that she must get on with her life. Barry would always be with her in sleep's brighter scenes; inexplicably, the images of the Dixville horror faded in the shadows. Another child needed to be taken care of.

  "Thad will make a fine son." Chaos shifted his eyes toward Helen to catch her expression, "But he needs two parents who love one another."

  She understood, and reached for his hand. Helen continued to be attracted to Chaos, but events whirling around her made it difficult for Helen to know when infatuation changed to love. The philosopher, the poet, the patriot, Chaos was all of those. He had been her friend and lover, enduring her tirades, her frustrations, her torment of outliving her child. He had given her an unconditional commitment; he had been patient; he had been thoughtful. The characteristics in a man as charming as him were hard to find.

  "You've got what's left of me." He rubbed the side of his head; the wound itched during the healing process. "Did you have to shave my hair off?"

  Helen smiled, "You still look good to me."

  The fighting was over for now. The disillusionment from Winifred's son had toppled the Presidency. He resigned from office shortly after the Dixville battle. Of all the weapons, the love of his son had proven the most powerful. Margaret Sorenson had taken over as President. Her first act had been to fire Chief of Staff Lucas Bennett. Sorenson had always hated Bennett, she vowed to investigate his antics. Sorenson also reinstated General Paz as Secretary of Defense. She announced a plan to initiate a less centralized government. She had always been sympathetic to the cause. President Sorenson wanted to meet with the leaders of the covenants; Helen was now the head of Colebrook's Covenant.

  To Helen's disappointment, Max had set the Balsams Lodge bombing. It was believed, but not established that Vanessa Larson might have also been involved; Captain Thomas had died of knife wounds in his back. If proven, the Covenant agreed she would be turned over to the White House. They never found out who launched the model plane attack on the Oval Office. Snake claimed that their part of the Triad had had nothing to do with it. Evidence pointed to a militant faction in Island Pond, Vermont. They might never know. One thing for certain, there was no turning back. Sorenson knew that compromise was a must to hold the Union together. Once Steve Morrison's channel aired in-depth, covenants formed across the nation. The blood spilled in the North Country and Boston had been the catalyst.

  Steve Morrison remained in New Hampshire, taking over the communication hub at Max's deer camp as a means to get his stories out to Spectator News. He walked up the knoll to deliver an E-mail note from Billy Winifred to Helen. Steve waited for a response as she read it.

  The story pulled out a sigh from Helen. "Billy wanted to tell me he is sorry about his dad being behind the Feds. He asked if the Akela would write him back . . . and he wondered if he was still part of the Ghost Pack."

  Chaos spoke up, "He must have been with the Rousell boys at Max's computer and remembered the E-mail address."

  "You bet I'll write him," Helen continued. "None of this was his fault. I'm sure he'd appreciate a note from Thad, too." Helen shook her head, "The boy must have given his father the Rousell's version of events. It had to have been an eye-opener for the President to learn his own son was one of the rebel forces."

  Chaos added, "Butch and Thad's role in this whole thing has been grossly understated. Butch and his oath secured the loyalty of my triad when Helen stood up to my brother. And of course, the Rousells' rescued Billy Winifred." The Southerner appreciated Butch and Thad's role in securing the loyalty of the rebels: The Mountain Boys had a special place in their hearts for the families victimized by the Dixville Massacre. Helen was the embodiment of that tacit alliance.

  Helen directed a question to Steve, "Are you anxious to get back to the newsroom?"

  "Well," Steve hesitated as he looked past Helen to Chaos, "I'm staying here. If you'll have me?"

  "Of course." But Helen had to ask, "Why have you decided to stay in Dixville, Steve?"

  Steve recalled the campfire conversation with the young rebel Crucible, "Someone once told me 'You know you're home when you're willing to fight for it.'" Morrison discovered that objective reporting was a euphemism. If something is wrong, if something must be done, merely taking pictures of the event is as immoral as participating in the act. Ultimately, he had chosen sides for the first time in his life.

  Morrison turned and started walking up the slope. Chaos yelled out and stopped him, "Steve!" the Southerner gave him a thumbs-up. "Thanks." Morrison smiled sparingly and returned the gesture.

  Chaos told Helen about what Steve had done with the Armdriod unit back at the bunker. "He can't go back, they'd convict him." Chaos rubbed his eyes; he was tired.

  Helen looked down at the pond and watched Thad standing on a boulder above the water. He reeled up his line and held up a tiny Bluegill for Helen to see. Helen and Thad smiled at one another as though they had always been family.

  "You know," said Helen, "some of the Scouts in town swear this pond is haunted, but the rumor doesn't seem to bother Thad." Her comment caused a lull in conversation.

  After all the turmoil, Thad was back on Balsams Pond taunting fish as Barry had a year ago. In the sun's glare, he was the spitting image of her son.

  -

  Fall's twilight glow softens the reds and golds of distant hills, as still, chilled air works its way into the longer shadows besi
de buildings and trees. Embedded in a fresh granite gravestone, just beyond the shadow of the Colebrook Congregational Church, an Eagle Scout medallion glistens in the autumn sun.

  If you asked Butch what he wanted to be when he grew up, he would tell you: an Eagle. An Eagle Scout is the highest honor one can achieve in Scouting. Former President Gerald Ford was an Eagle. As was every astronaut who walked on the moon. Few boys attained such a level in Scouting, and those who did became successful leaders. Butch knew that. And though at times he didn't do so well in school, he excelled at what he loved, always finding time to filch trout and crawdads from the pond at the Balsams Resort.

  And within the morning vapors rising off the water, before the sun rises over Dixville Notch in the east, three figures can sometimes be seen at the pond below Balsams' charred remains: One wading in the gorge, looking for crawdads beneath the rocks; and a boy and his dog on a boulder rising out of the pool; they stand motionless in the vapors--above the water, swimming in innocence.

  Copyright 2008 -- Blair Smith -- Http://SmithLiterary.Com

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