Revolution

by Mark Church

  “Umm, yeah, right. Platoons.”

  Military jargon isn’t entirely foreign to Jake. His father had shared many stories about his stint in the Marine’s.

  “We’re not going to get too far into formal military terminology, but we have to have some basic lingo.” John is well aware that with a mostly civilian military force, the less complex he keeps things the better for all.

  “No worries, I’ll get it.”

  The men simultaneously hear the faint hum of a motor. Not a truck or car motor, but something very different. They turn their attention towards the sound of the engine. To their astonishment, they see a small plane appear over the tree line. It’s flying parallel with the highway.

  “What the hell!” John exclaims as neither man has seen an operational airplane in years.

  They have little time to react as the plane lines up over the highway and drops to a smooth landing. It taxis across the field towards the encampment before finally coming to a stop and shutting off its engine.

  The plane is a bi-wing, open cockpit two-seater with one seat in front of the other.

  Jake and John walk towards the plane as a man emerges from the cockpit, steps on the wing, and jumps to the ground. He looks to be about sixty years old with a full gray beard and a toothy smile.

  A crowd gathers around the plane for a closer look. The pilot begins talking to a man in the crowd who then turns and points towards Jake.

  The pilot walks across the short distance separating them and offers his hand to Jake, “My name is George Peters, I understand you’re the man in charge.”

  “That’s what they tell me.” Jake then nods towards John and introduces him, “And this is John, our militia commander.”

  George offers his hand to John next, “I thought you might be able to use my services.”

  “If it involves that plane, you bet.” John answers enthusiastically.

  “Where did you get it? And how is it still flying?” Jake peppers George with questions.

  “It’s been in my family for over a hundred years. It’s still functional because it was built before all the fancy electronics were put in planes. Back in the day, all we used it for was crop dusting, so we didn’t need all the frills.”

  “Where did you get the fuel for it?” John walks alongside the plane running his hand over it as if evaluating a quarter horse.

  “I make my own kerosene from wood.” George grins, obviously proud of his resourcefulness, “and Ole Bertha loves it.”

  Jake and John look at each other as if to say, “Is this guy for real?”

  Turning back to George, Jake probes cautiously, “I don’t remember seeing you at the meeting a few days ago.”

  “Nope, I didn’t hear about it until after the fact. I live pretty far away near a little town southwest of here called Ellington”

  “No one mentioned that someone in the area had a plane.” John doesn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this just seems entirely too good to be true. Can they really trust this stranger?

  “No one knew. It’s been collecting dust in my barn. I haven’t flown it in years, but I’ve been determined to make it airworthy again. I just got it working well enough to fly a few days ago. She even has a working radio.”

  Jake turns to John and jokes, “I’d never have guessed that we’d have an Air Force.”

  John chuckles and scratches his head as he revels in their good fortune.

  “An Air Force might be a bit of a stretch, but I’m sure we’ll find a good way to put Ole Bertha to good use.” George is delighted with the effect he’s created.

  “Air reconnaissance will be a huge advantage for us in the coming days. I’m very happy that you’ve come.” John gives up his suspicions. George is just too genuine to be anything but what he claims to be.

  “I’ll help in any way that I can,” George turns serious. “The government took everything from me and I’d like the opportunity to return the favor.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get it, I promise.” Jake clamps his hand on George’s shoulder by way of affirmation.

  The militia has a new weapon in its arsenal, and Jake and John couldn’t be more thrilled. Their excitement carries over to the volunteers. You can sense their optimism rising yet another degree.

  Jake hopes all of this confidence sticks around. They’ll need to draw on it as days turn into weeks and weeks into months. It’s going to be tough on everyone, and they’ll need all the determination and enthusiasm they can muster.

  ✽✽✽

  The first few days of training are a bit unorganized but by the end of the week, the volunteers are beginning to drill like real soldiers.

  The men and women that make up the militia are tough. They’ve had to be to survive out here on their own in the first place. They are surprisingly open to relinquishing control to the platoon leaders. In large part because those chosen as leaders are clearly the cream of the crop, at least as far as military knowledge and tactics are concerned.

  Platoons are trained for specific jobs. Some are being trained on explosives while others are being trained as infantry. Still others are being trained for the very dangerous job of guerilla fighters, the ones who will hopefully draw the government forces into the planned trap.

  Excellent marksmanship and nerves of steel are a prerequisite for those chosen to serve in the guerilla platoons. Because it’s such a dangerous job, they are offered the opportunity to decline the appointment. No one does.

  ✽✽✽

  The weekend finally arrives, and the militia is dismissed to return to their respective communities. There is little concern between Jake and John about whether or not their recruits will return on Monday. It’s been a long hard week, but much has been accomplished and morale is high.

  The last order of business for John is to find ten volunteers to guard the camp over the weekend. The outcast group that roams the area did not show up to the meeting and haven’t been heard from in a while, but there’s concern that they could pillage the camp if it’s left unattended.

  The volunteers should be able to handle any situation, but they are given radios to call for help if needed. Many of the closer communities could arrive in less than thirty minutes to provide back up.

  Jake and his crew load up in their truck and drive the forty-five minutes back to the Refuge. When they arrive, everyone comes out to the truck to greet them. They bombarded Jake with questions as everyone pitches in to help them carry in their gear.

  Kayla is anxiously withholding her news until the commotion dies down. Cole begins to sense her excitement. “You look like you have a secret you’re dying to tell,” he smirks. “Come on, give it up.”

  Unable to hold out any longer, Kayla burst out, “Shadow had her puppies!”

  Cole’s smirk turns to a huge smile, “How many?”

  “Seven. Three boys and four girls.”

  “Where are they?”

  Evidently Kayla wasn’t the only one busting at the seams to share the good news. Just as she is about to answer, Luke and Emily pipe up in unison, “In the barn!”

  Cole looks down at the little ones and gestures toward the door with exaggerated delight, “Well, let’s go see them!”

  The children each grab a hand and pull him towards the back door. Kayla swoops up Grace and follows the trio out to the barn.

  “I bet you’re all starving. Let’s get some food in you.” Ever the “mom” of the household, Amy turns to the practical matter of feeding the hungry warriors.

  24 predator becomes prey

  The weeks go by quickly. The winter weather has moderated a bit which makes training more efficient. The volunteers are beginning to resemble a professional fighting force. Much like prize fighters, they are learning when to bob and weave, and when to strike. They expect to be up against a much larger force so they believe that a hit and run strategy will serve them best.

  The United Federation forces are preparing as well. Globally, regional governme
nt forces are planning coordinated sweeps in their respective area of operation with the objective of eliminating all remaining rebel pockets worldwide. They believe they will have surprise on their side but, unbeknownst to them, free folk all over the world are aware of their nefarious plans thanks to Hannah‘s efforts at the communication outpost. Each has prepared an elaborate defense for their respective communities.

  ✽✽✽

  Eli enters the communications building just as Hannah ends a conversation with someone speaking in a Gaelic accent.

  “Irish or Scottish?”

  “His name was Sean O’Grady,” replies Hannah, “I guess you don’t get much more Irish than that.”

  Eli chuckles, “Nope, that guy can’t deny his heritage.”

  “What are you up too?”

  “If you don’t need anything,” Eli informs her, “I was going to go hunting.”

  “I’m all good here. Just be careful out there. That mountain lion is getting bolder. I saw his tracks all around the compound this morning.”

  “Careful is my middle name,” Eli assures Hannah. “By the way, I’m going to stop by the Refuge and see Grace for a little while, do you need anything?”

  “Yah, that little male I’ve had my eye on. The pups should be weaned by now and Kayla promised it to me. It was the last of the seven, and the only one I saw being born.”

  “You want me to bring it back with me?”

  “If Kayla doesn’t mind. I’ve got everything ready for it.”

  “If she’ll let me have it, I’ll bring it. I’ll be back before dark. Keep your rifle nearby.”

  “Always.” Hannah blows a kiss towards Eli as he heads out the door.

  Eli responds from beyond the door, “That’s my girl!”

  Hannah and Eli’s friendship has evolved into romantic relationship over recent weeks. It was the only reasonable outcome given their obvious chemistry and the time they spent alone together.

  Hannah has become quite the shooter. Eli has been giving her daily lessons ever since they moved to the communication outpost. Truth be told, she could give him a run for his money in the marksmanship category.

  Eli retrieves his rifle and backpack full of survival gear. As he’s leaving the outpost grounds, two very large yellow eyes watch from behind a large bush at the far side of the compound.

  As Eli enters the woods he notices that the forest is unusually quiet. He disregards the anomaly and continues on his way.

  Unbeknownst to Eli, there’s a very good reason why the forest is still. A hungry apex predator is lurking in its shadows.

  The patient feline watches Eli disappear but doesn’t follow. It has other prey in mind, and it is patient. It is willing to wait.

  ✽✽✽

  Hannah is getting hungry. She’s been working the radio all morning and time has gotten away from her. Pushing back from the desk, she rises and starts towards the door. Eli’s words of caution sound in her head, “Keep your rifle nearby.”

  Retreating back into the room, she grabs up her rifle before continuing out the door.

  The midday sun is high in the sky. She pauses to turn her face up towards the glowing globe, allowing it to bathe her face in its warming rays. She breathes in deeply, filling her lungs with the crisp, cool afternoon air.

  Hannah takes note of the deep blue sky. Not a single cloud mars its vast expanse. She begins reflecting on her recent good fortune before her mind drifts to her mother and father, and then on to the family friends who took her under their wing.

  The joy Hannah finds in those memories fade as her thoughts turn to Eva and Carl. Both of these selfless individuals were heroes in every sense of the word even though they’d never be recognized for their sacrifice. Hopefully her current effort, in some small way, honors that sacrifice and keeps their dream of freedom alive.

  Stretching her legs before lunch would be great therapy for her stiff back so Hannah decides to walk to the small pond not far from the main house. Little does she know that she has a visitor and it, too, is looking forward to a hearty lunch.

  The path to the pond is narrow and bordered by thorny brush. As it approaches the water’s edge it widens a bit before coming to a cross-path that allows hikers to go around the small body of water in either direction.

  Hannah pauses to look out at the serene beauty of the pond. A few ducks swim about haphazardly before diving under the water’s surface. Moments later, they pop up and frantically swivel their head back and forth to make sure a predator isn’t bearing down on them.

  While the ducks’ paranoia may seem extreme, they have learned that survival goes to the wariest.

  The human watching them should take note.

  ✽✽✽

  The big cat creeps forward as it stalks its quarry through the thick tangles of brush. It positions itself for the perfect ambush as it nears an ideal striking distance. It pauses. Years of experience have taught it that attempting to close the gap any further will mean risking the element of surprise. It freezes in place, its muscles tensing as it prepares to spring. A small twig snaps under the weight of the heavy cat.

  Sensing the nearby threat, the ducks burst from the surface of the pond. They create a chaotic display as they struggle to gain flight. Their sudden and frantic departure is a warning to Hannah that something is amiss. Her hands instinctively reach for the grip of her rifle as her finger automatically slides over the trigger. Her peripheral vision detects rapid movement from her left side. She turns and reflexively raises her rifle just in time to bury the muzzle of her rifle into the leaping cat. Fortunately, she is able to maintain the rifle direction and pull the trigger just before her attacker lands on her with its full weight.

  When the full impact arrives, it knocks her back and onto the ground. Dazed but still in fight mode, Hannah pushes the cat away and clambers to her feet. She points her rifle at the prone animal as she looks for signs of movement. The large feline twitches repeatedly and then lay still. She cautiously prods it with her rifle barrel and gets no reaction. Thankfully, the large cat is dead.

  Hannah begins to shake a little and her knees feel weak. She lowers herself next to a nearby tree and rests her back against its trunk. Staring at the now-deceased predator, she imagines how this could have ended much differently.

  It takes a few minutes for Hannah to collect herself. After regaining her composure, she returns to her feet and stands over the cat’s carcass. She uses her foot to roll it onto its back. A wound is visible near the center of its chest. It appears to be the entry point of the bullet she fired from her rifle. She can only surmise that the projectile exploded the cat’s heart causing instant death.

  It’s only then that Hannah comes to fully understand the extent of her good fortune. She would like to think that courage coupled with her recent training is what saved her but, in reality, she knows her reaction was purely defensive, and it was largely luck that perfectly placed the lethal round.

  Regardless of the reason, she is alive, and her attacker is not, and in the end, that’s all that matters.

  Hannah retrieves a rope and returns to the pond. She tries the rope around the cat’s chest and neck and, with great effort, drags it back to the base of a large tree near the main house.

  Throwing the free end of the rope over a low, heavy branch, Hannah proceeds to pull the cat upwards until only its tail is left touching the ground. She ties off the rope to the base of the tree so the cat will remain suspended.

  Only now can she appreciate the sheer size of this predator. She estimates its total length to be every bit of eight feet.

  The cat looks unusually thin for its frame, which could explain why it attacked her today, and previously attacked Cole and Kayla. It was malnourished which meant it was either old or sick. If either of these things were true, it was likely too weak to capture its normal prey.

  Hannah is anxious for Eli’s return. While she knows he’ll be happy their nemesis has finally been killed, he will likely be disappointed tha
t he wasn’t the one who took it down.

  Hannah muses to herself, “Men and their egos,” before heading to the house for that long-awaited lunch.

  ✽✽✽

  Eli returns to the communication outpost just before dusk. He is carrying a small, freshly killed boar in a sling across his back, and a small wiggling puppy in his arms.

  “Honey, I’m home!” Eli yells playfully. “And I come bearing gifts.”

  Eli is so excited to show Hannah the puppy he doesn’t notice the cat hanging in the nearby tree.

  Hannah bounds out the front door and spots the puppy. She squeals with delight as she runs down the porch stairs. She snatches the puppy from his arms and covers it with kisses. The puppy holds its own as it lavishes Hannah with an equal amount of sloppy puppy kisses.

  “He’s so handsome,” Hannah gushes as she continues showering affection on the puppy.

  “Have you decided on the name? Last I checked you were down to two.”

  “Now that I’ve seen him, he’s clearly a Rocco.”

  “I like it. Maybe ‘ole Roc can keep that cat at bay.”

  “That won’t be a problem anymore.” Hannah prepares to bring Eli up to date.

  Eli looks at her questioningly, “Why’s that?”

  Hannah points across the yard. Eli follows her finger and sees the cat for the first time. “What the…” he doesn’t finish his sentence as he marches across the yard with Hannah following close behind.

  Eli inspects the cat before turning to Hannah and stammering, “When, uh – how?”

  “It happened just a few hours after you left.”

  “Are you okay?” Eli gives Hannah a quick visual inspection.

  “I’m fine. Not a scratch.”’ Hannah then goes on to describe the event from beginning to end.

  “I’m just glad you’re alright. I should have made it a priority to kill that thing.”

  Eli embraces Hannah and hugs her tightly as the puppy struggles between them.

  Hannah senses Eli’s relief. It’s at that moment that she knows he truly loves her.