Killswitch Chronicles- The Complete Anthology

by G. R. Carter

  “Anyway, the explosions confused them for a little while, but the Marine commander rallied his group, and they counterattacked right up the middle of our center punch. Our guys were expecting to root out some resistance while going house to house, not get hit with a full on counter-strike. We lost Lead Centurion Ramirez and seven out of the ten Squad Centurions serving Second Legion. I take full responsibility for that, sir. I let us get overconfident. I’ll resign if you’ll accept,” Eckert said solemnly.

  Walsh shook his head again, closing his eyes at the effort. “No, no…My fault. Got in too big a hurry. Should have sent the recon team in by river, first,” Walsh coughed. An orderly brought him a small sip of water as Eckert looked back up to Walsh. Walsh could see Eckert’s eyes mist, something Walsh never witnessed in all the years and horrors of war the two men experienced together.

  “You saved the mission, sir. Once the Marines overwhelmed our Guardsmen in the middle, you grabbed a weapon and led our command unit straight into the teeth of their attack. The other Legions saw that too, and they followed you in. The fighting was the toughest I ever saw. Even worse than that night in Mosul when we were outnumbered four to one and out of ammo. Remember that?” Eckert paused, as if trying to push back down some demon from the past.

  “Well, those Service-Marines were tougher than that. But you took down two of them yourself before you caught one there in the leg. Our guys really had their blood up then, and there was no way we were going to let you down. We took them out one by one, and once all the Marines were down, the fight sort of went out of the rest of the resistance. Our guys were pretty fired up after seeing you get hit…so like I said, there aren’t really any prisoners. We might find a couple yet,” Eckert concluded.

  Walsh took the Captain’s arm, and held it for a moment. “Good, you’re good. The best,” Walsh wheezed. Eckert was clearly shaken now, looking down at the floor to hold back his emotion.

  After a moment of silence between the two, Walsh finally asked the question Eckert dreaded.

  “How many?”

  Eckert sighed: “Forty-seven Centurions and Guardsmen dead, one hundred and eleven wounded.”

  Walsh closed his eyes tightly, picturing the day he first watched his new legionnaires training in Memorial Stadium. The pain medication clouded his thoughts as his mind drifted and finally went black.

  The Okaw

  “Phil, you’ve become like a brother to me. We’ve accomplished a lot here together, kept folks together when we coulda ended up like the rest of the world. I’ll always support you, but I don’t think I can carry this weight anymore.” Sheriff Olsen wasn’t crying, but his eyes misted and his baritone voice cracked. “I’ve seen enough to last a lifetime.”

  Phil studied his friend’s face, wondering why the pressure affected the lawman so much more than himself. Olsen was no coward, that much was without doubt. As a deputy, then a sheriff, the big man had certainly faced danger before.

  The last trip to Decatur had been different for him. Seeing people he knew a lifetime struck down by those he still considered fellow Americans, and soldiers at that, crushed his will to lead. Phil knew something was eating at him ever since they returned. But that didn’t mean they could give up. The county needed the sheriff’s experience, his grit, his cool hand in crisis. If Olsen and Hamilton couldn’t hold themselves together, how could the cooperative? What would happen to the towns?

  “I understand, Clark. I really do, and I feel the same way. But I don’t see what our options are,” Phil pleaded. “If we go and give up, who do you think will hold this together? No offense to other folks, I’m not saying we’re better than the next man. But everyone is looking to us now to stay strong. If we crack, this whole thing could fall apart.”

  Olsen’s face lost the look of despair, replaced by confusion. He stood for a moment, staring, while the two men tried to figure the other out. The sheriff finally realized what Hamilton was thinking. “No, no, no, Phil,” he said waving his hands in front of his chest. “I wasn’t talking about both of us stepping down, just me. You can’t go anywhere. The cooperative really would fall apart then,” Olsen replied.

  Phil was stunned.

  “You’re talking about me being what, President or something? Without you? We weren’t even elected in the first place, just drafted. And now I’m supposed to take over? That makes me a dictator, doesn’t it? People don’t want that!” he insisted.

  “Pull your head out of the sand, man!” Olsen snapped. “People want something to eat and their kids to stay alive. They’re scared to death of the world outside. There’s time for your government theory and politics later, right now we’re on the edge of survival. We can’t continue to run the cooperative by committee. You’ve always been open to other opinions, even if you thought they were wrong. That makes people trust you when you do stand on principle, especially in a crisis,” Olsen said, calmer and cooler than before.

  He shook a finger at his friend while continuing: “And don’t think you’re going to blame Anna, saying she won’t go for it. I already spoke with her about it, and she said she understood.”

  Phil was still processing. I don’t want to be the last word on anything; I just really want to go home.

  Olsen continued: “I know what you’re thinking, brother. You’re thinking about hiding out in that tower on Schoolhouse Hill where you think no one can find you. That’s precisely why we need you to do this. Because once we’ve reached some level of safety and we can have real elections, you’ll be out of that chair so quick even our boys couldn’t catch you.”

  Phil finally replied: “You sound like that speech in Gladiator. Remember that one? Where Caesar is trying to get Maximus to take the lead after the old man dies. Didn’t work out well for either of them.” He was almost shaking, this was all going too fast. “Listen, Clark, you might think you want this. But the mayors are going to be freaked out about one man calling the shots…one unelected man, may I remind you.”

  Olsen laughed, walking to open the door of the courthouse conference room where they always met. Mayors of the towns and villages making up the Shelby County Cooperative filed in, each smiling at Phil like cats that just swallowed the family bird.

  It’s a setup, they were all in on this. Here I’m worried about looking like a dictator, and they’re all for it, Phil thought.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I think this simple farmer has just been duped,” Phil announced aloud, half joking. “I do appreciate your confidence, but I don’t want any part of this.”

  None looked willing to change their minds.

  “Fine,” Phil huffed. “If I’m getting drafted, I will require you to complete one very important action before my conscription takes place. I am asking for a unanimous vote for me to assume the role of President. On paper, in writing. No exceptions.” Phil was confident this committee would never unanimously agree to anything… Until he saw every head in the room nodding their assent. Crestfallen, he asked, “You’re all really sure about this?”

  More nods of agreement met the question, and one of Sheriff Olsen’s deputies went to retrieve the paper needed. Mayor Steinbrink of Strasburg approached the head of the table where Phil and Clark stood. In his hands he held a green cloth banner.

  No, no, that’s a flag, Phil thought as Steinbrink unfolded the cloth on the big wooden table in front of the men.

  The flag was a green field with a white shield inlayed. Around the shield were seven stars representing the seven surviving communities of Shelby County, and inside the shield was a simple gray fortress. In the door of the fortress was a shock of wheat and above the fortress a bolt of lightning. Along the bottom of the flag read the motto: “Against the Storm.”

  “Folks, I’m speechless,” Phil stuttered.

  The motto and lightning bolt were a reference to the speech that he gave to each community when he proposed they turn their energy cooperative into a self-defense force. Storms of all kinds raged against their little group, but so far m
ost survived the long odds.

  “Clark, did you know about this flag?” Phil asked.

  “I did. I figured instead of just calling ourselves a cooperative, we should start saying it’s a Defense Cooperative. And there’s not really a Shelby County anymore. Old borders don’t seem to matter much. So let’s go with something everyone around here recognizes…I’m thinking Okaw Valley Self Defense Cooperative.”

  Phil frowned. “That’s quite a mouthful. Will your deputies have to announce themselves as that every time?”

  It took a moment for Clark to get the jest, then he played along. “Right, us cops got to have things simplified…like farmers, you know!

  “Anyway, I thought maybe we better have a symbol for everyone to rally around. Really, it was Mayor Steinbrink’s idea. Something about icons holding a federation together. I wasn’t too good in social studies so I don’t really understand all that,” Olsen laughed. Steinbrink acknowledged the reference with a slight bow.

  He continued: “And I’m going to propose something else now that you’ve insisted that we put this all in writing. I don’t like the term 'President,' sounds too formal for a bunch of small-towners like us. Since you were the founder of the Shelby County Cooperative, and therefore the Okaw Valley Self Defense Cooperative, I propose that the office Mr. Phillip Hamilton so willingly volunteered for be referred to as Founder until such time as a unanimous decision of the Council of Mayors determines otherwise. And the Founder can’t vote on that one issue. All in favor aye, all opposed nay.”

  Before Phil could open his mouth, a chorus of ayes filled the room, and again he stood without words.

  Gordon Steinbrink’s accented baritone voice rose with song before anyone else could speak. The tune and most of the words were familiar. But the differences sent shivers down their spine.

  While the storm clouds gather far across the plain,

  Let us swear allegiance to lands forged with toil and blade.

  Let us all be grateful for a land so fair

  As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer:

  God bless the Okaw, land that we love,

  Stand beside her and guide her

  Through the night from the lights up above.

  From the rivers, to the prairies,

  Fertile soils, clay and loam,

  God bless the Okaw, My home sweet home,

  God bless the Okaw, My home sweet home.

  “Okay, Mr. Founding Farmer,” Olsen laughed through eyes beginning to well up once more. “We’re a real nation with our own anthem now. Time to get to work.”

  *****

  The excitement of the morning gave way to the stack of decisions sitting in front of Phil, now officially Founder of the Okaw Valley Self Defense Cooperative. One by one, the various members of the Council of Mayors excused themselves to head back to their respective communities. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised; they’ve all got important work to do, too. And they’re thinking this is what I’m supposed to do now. Each took the opportunity of some pressing issue to get back to their lives and away from the responsibilities of others.

  I’m flattered they trust me this much, but I have a bad feeling I’ll never see some of them at a meeting again.

  Apparently, Okaw business would now be his responsibility.

  At least Clark stayed to help, Phil thought as an SDC deputy brought in venison sandwiches and chicory coffee for the two men while they sifted through the papers stacked in front of them.

  “May I request the first thing on the agenda be the Decatur situation?” The voice echoed in the stone hallway outside, followed by the appearance of Captain Martin Fredericks.

  “That depends if you have good news or bad news, Captain,” Olsen replied to the younger man. “We are in celebration mode today, since we’ve found a sucker to take over the top spot.”

  “Well, if nothing else, I like the flag. When can we get them produced so they can start flying over the farms and schools?” Fredericks asked.

  Before Phil could tell him it was just a personal gift, Olsen answered Fredericks. “There is one in each town flying today, and Mrs. Steinbrink has her sewing club working overtime on as many as we can get material for. The last salvage team brought in a couple of reams of cloth from one of the craft stores in Decatur.”

  One more time, Olsen smiled over at Phil’s surprise.

  Fredericks replied: “Excellent. Phil, I know you’re probably uncomfortable with this. Your men respect you for that. But this is bigger than your feelings. We’re getting spread out, and folks on the outskirts are scared and lonely. These titles and symbols that make you cringe are going to keep everyone moving in the same direction. I believe that once bad guys see these flags, they’ll steer clear of our folks. I hate to say they’ll probably move on to easier targets, but one step at a time. Please just accept our appreciation that you’re willing to be the rally point. We need this,” Fredericks said.

  “Okay, okay, I get it. I just wish this new title could make things like the sanitation systems stop acting up. Thank God the Wizards were able to turn those tractor engines into water pumps. We’d probably have the Plague in here by now without them. That’s going to be a concern pretty quick in Decatur. So, Captain, what’s going on in our biggest metropolis?”

  “Since the defeat of the National Guard, we’ve spent a majority of our time attempting to settle the remaining residents into a productive routine,” Fredericks answered. “I know the extra men who came over after the Loyalty Oaths gave you a lot of extra mouths to feed, but without the extra boots on the ground, I think we would have to write off the whole city.”

  Clark and Phil nodded. They were initially shocked about the deal the cops and firefighters made with the now deceased Major Stillman of the Decatur National Guard. The Council of Mayors wanted to seal off the whole city, let it burn and then come in later to pick up the pieces. To save a long-term asset, Fredericks quickly volunteered to take responsibility of the city and integrate the rank-and-file National Guard troops into the SDC. At Olsen's insistence, each man gave an oath of loyalty to the Okaw in front of a large gathering including the Decatur men’s respective families. There was no way to ensure each man would hold the oath, but they agreed the potential benefits outweighed the risks. Fredericks assured the sheriff he would treat traitors to their oath as he would have treated traitors to his old country.

  Most of the soldiers, cops and firefighters were smart enough to know that Fredericks was a man of his word, and that trying to survive outside the city with no support meant a death sentence. The handful who refused the oath drifted off somewhere into the remote parts of the city, possibly to join up with the next item on the agenda: the criminals still controlling scattered neighborhoods.

  “GangStars,” Fredericks said, watching as the two leaders gave small nods of acknowledgement. Fredericks sent daily reports to the courthouse regarding the challenges and progress of Decatur, and he knew that both Phil and Olsen read and discussed every piece of information provided to them.

  “What do you propose we do about them, Captain?” Olsen asked over the reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. “Shall we make them an offer they can’t refuse?”

  “I do not believe we should try to integrate them, Clark,” Fredericks answered, no longer using the sheriff's proper title while in private. “These guys are hardcore. I think they’re going to run a racket wherever they are. Maybe if the leaders were gone, but I’m not sure how deep that culture goes. I think I proved I’m a believer in trying to rehabilitate enemies. I’m afraid that’s not an option in this case, based on the GangStar actions I’ve witnessed.

  “The Reset caused a lot of twisted minds to come out of the shadows. No more antipsychotic medication, no more fear of incarceration, really no fear of anything. I’m not going to tell you some of the stories we’ve heard about what’s going on in the neighborhoods outside our control.”

  Fredericks gazed out the window as though something was trying to
force itself into his mind. He steeled himself and looked back into the present: “Me and my guys faced groups like this in the Sandbox. Some people just want to watch the world burn.”

  Phil smiled, slightly amused.

  “What’s so funny, Founder Hamilton?” Clark asked, a bit irritated.

  “Nothing’s funny. Just…that’s two great movie references in one day, and both are perfectly applicable to the world we’re living in now. No, it’s not funny, it’s deadly serious. Captain, what do you propose? We can’t commit an act of extermination just to flush out a few of the bad seeds,” Phil replied. “Kind of goes against what we’re trying to accomplish here, you know?”

  Olsen spoke up again: “Can we bring Pastor Hart or Father Steve in here to talk about it? I know both of them are behind us when it comes to self–defense. They say that’s Biblical enough. But what we’re talking about is going into an area actually looking for a fight.

  “Isn’t that what we did with the Decatur National Guard?” Fredericks asked somberly.

  The question hung for a moment in the silence of the room. Each man gathered his thoughts, considering the implications of sending their men into an ugly situation.

  “Yes,” Phil replied forcefully.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what we did with the Decatur National Guard. I’m not going to hide behind Pastor Hart or Father Steve. Those two have enough to worry about convincing everyone to attend the Unified Church services,” Phil answered.

  “Their job is to save souls. Our job…my job is to save lives. In the long run, we do that by smoking the GangStars out of their rat holes,” Phil continued, half-thinking and half-speaking.

  “Commander Fredericks, and that’s your title now, by the way, I want you to draw up plans for the operation. As big as you need…if we have to call in some Turtles form the safest interior Fortress Farms, we’ll do it. Clark, have your deputies type up the order and I’ll sign it today.” Phil’s voice got louder and sterner.