BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS
A POSTAPOCALYPTIC NOVEL
BOOK 5
THE NEW WORLD SERIES
G. MICHAEL HOPF
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
QUOTE
PROLOGUE, OCTOBER 19, 2066
OCTOBER 28, 2015
OCTOBER 29, 2015
OCTOBER 30, 2015
OCTOBER 31, 2015
NOVEMBER 1, 2015
NOVEMBER 2, 2015
NOVEMBER 3, 2015
NOVEMBER 9, 2015
EPILOGUE, OCTOBER 19, 2066
EXCERPT FROM NEMESIS
EXCERPT FROM EXIT
ABOUT
MORE BOOKS
Copyright © 2015 G. Michael Hopf
No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
For information contact:
[email protected]
www.gmichaelhopf.com
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 10: 1515357562
ISBN-13: 978-151357568
DEDICATION
TO ALL THE VETERANS WHO HAVE SERVED THIS GREAT REPUBLIC OF OURS
'ALL GAVE SOME, SOME GAVE ALL'
“I would say to the House as I said to those who have joined this government. I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears and sweat. We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering." way to peace in this world is through the barrel of a gun.”
Winston Churchill
PROLOGUE
October 19, 2066
McCall, Idaho, Republic of Cascadia
Haley looked over the rolling fields with pockets of towering aspen trees towards Jughandle Mountain, its granite cap white with fresh snow. She loved the long vistas and majestic scenery the house provided. It had been years since she had sat on the gray weathered deck and appreciated it, but more notably it had been many more years since she had sat there with her father. Haley’s unexpected arrival at the old Van Zandt cabin in McCall shocked her sons, Hunter and Sebastian, but for Gordon it was the most pleasant of surprises but not entirely unexpected.
After Sebastian’s arrival weeks ago, then Hunter’s earlier that morning, he suspected that Haley wouldn’t be too far behind. She was an astute woman who didn’t let many things get by her. This made him proud, as he had instilled that skill at an early age, and apparently it stuck.
Haley and Gordon shared laughs and tears as she detailed her life by filling in the blanks since the last time they had seen each other.
Gordon withheld the fact that he knew all the information she divulged through loyal contacts within the government.
Hunter and Sebastian sat in the comfort and protection of the house, watching their mother and grandfather reconnect.
“It has been one crazy day,” Hunter exclaimed, his reflection prominent in the massive window that overlooked the back deck where Haley and Gordon sat, hands embraced.
The combination of laughter and sobbing came and went like the tide ebbed and flowed. Years had separated them, but Hunter could see the deep father-daughter bond they had just by their interaction.
Haley kept petting Gordon on the head and hadn’t let go of his ever-shaking hand since she had sat down by his side over an hour before.
“I’m getting hungry and Granddad doesn’t have anything good to eat here,” Sebastian commented, his eyes scanning the limited variety of food that sat on the shelves in the pantry. “It’s like he’s still surviving. Let’s see here, there’s tuna, oh, and tuna and, wait a minute, we have tuna in oil,” Sebastian said, now holding up a can.
“Oh, what will you do?” Hunter mockingly said.
“Listen, I’ve been here for over a week, but I keep thinking I’ll find a gem in this dusty old pantry,” Sebastian lamented and closed the door. “Let’s run into town. The restaurant at the Hotel McCall is great.”
Hunter couldn’t stop watching the two outside. In fact, watching wasn’t the word for it, he was studying them. It was like he was in a dream, like he had been transported to a place where only miracles happen.
“Brother, you do realize how special this is, don’t you?” Hunter asked.
Sebastian, defeated by his inability to find anything to eat, exited the kitchen and walked up to his brother. “I do; hence why I called you.”
“Seeing Granddad is amazing. It’s like getting a chance to meet George Washington.”
“But without the bad teeth,” Sebastian joked.
“Is everything a joke to you?”
“I’ve been here for a bit, not that I don’t feel the moment, believe me I do, it’s just that I’m starving, and you know how I get when I don’t eat.”
“Here they come,” Hunter said, excited when he saw Haley and Gordon rise and head towards the sliding glass door. He raced over and slid it open. A crisp breeze swept in and reminded him the mountains were much colder than his new home in central Texas.
“Your grandfather needs to eat,” Haley said, escorting Gordon inside.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Sebastian cheerfully shouted.
“Sure, what can I get started?” Hunter asked, eager to help.
Inside, Haley closed the door and asked Gordon, “What do you want, Dad?”
“A steak, medium rare,” Gordon replied.
“Steaks? You don’t have steaks. Trust me, I’d know, I’ve dug through that chest freezer in the garage,” Sebastian declared.
Gordon held up his index finger and said, “Give me a minute. Why don’t you all go sit down while I prepare dinner.”
“No, Dad, we can do it. You look tired. Maybe you should get some rest,” Haley insisted, not letting go of his arm.
Gordon looked into her light eyes and with a reassuring tone said, “I’m fine. Now go sit down and relax.”
“Should I fire up a grill or something?” Hunter asked.
“Just sit down, get yourself a drink,” Gordon said. Walking towards his office, he paused and turned. “In the closet below the stairs you’ll find an old wooden crate. I hope you like scotch,” he said and continued towards his office, disappearing in the shadows.
“Mom, I can’t, um, this is just too much.”
“You’re still angry with me?” Haley asked.
Hunter approached her and said, “No, I’m just in awe. How is this even possible?”
“Things are possible if you make sure they are,” Haley replied.
“What does that even mean?” Hunter asked.
“Don’t you know anything?” Sebastian asked Hunter.
“How do you keep something like this quiet?” Hunter asked, his eyes wide with anticipation for an answer that would satiate his curiosity.
Haley stepped up to Hunter and caressed his stubbled face. “Make sure you know who your friends are is the first thing.”
“And?”
“And I’m thirsty, how about finding that scotch?” Haley said as she walked around Hunter towards the great room to find a comfortable seat.
“On it, Mom,” Sebastian said, making his way to the closet.
Hunter followed Haley and sat next to her on the couch. “I can’t stop saying it, but it’s amazing.”
“And sad,” Haley softly said.
Hunter looked at her face; he could see the strain. “What’s wrong?”
She took his hand and squeez
ed it.
“Holy shit, this scotch is over ninety years old,” Sebastian squealed with excitement, holding up a bottle of Macallan thirty-year-old scotch that had been bottled in 2014.
Appearing from the dark hallway, Gordon laughed. “That’s the last bottle from my old buddy Jimmy. He gave me three. I gave one to Colonel Barone, I opened one the day I was inaugurated, and that one there shall be opened today to celebrate family coming together.”
Sebastian happily walked over and sat the bottle on the table with four glasses.
Gordon shuffled over and sat down. He melted into the couch and sighed.
“Everything all right?” Haley asked.
“Life couldn’t be better, I just wish your mother was here is all,” Gordon lamented.
“Me too,” Haley replied.
“Here you go,” Sebastian said, handing each one a glass of scotch.
“What should we toast to?” Hunter asked.
“Family,” Gordon answered and held his glass high.
In unison the others said, “To family.”
They tapped their glasses and all took a sip.
“When can we get the steaks fired up?” Sebastian asked, his stomach tightening from hunger.
“Soon,” Gordon said as he swirled his glass, admiring the scotch with its rich caramel color.
“I’m sorry, but I want you to continue telling us what happened. How did you eventually become president?” Hunter asked, sitting on the edge of his seat while the others were sitting fully back, relaxed and enjoying the soft cradle of the couch.
Gordon looked at his watch and said, “We have a little time. Um, where did I leave off?”
“The Battle of Rainbow Bridge,” Hunter blurted out.
“Yeah, that’s right. We had just defeated Major Schmidt,” Gordon replied, then looked down at his glass. His hand shook as he lifted it to his lips and took another sip. “I brought Sebastian’s body home and we buried him right out back that day. He was the first Van Zandt to go in the ground back there.”
“I still miss him,” Haley quietly said.
“Me too,” Gordon said. His blue eyes were still as radiant as when he was in his prime, but when Haley looked into them, she could see the pain. He had seen so much death and tragedy. From his early years he had known loss. In that room sat the only remaining blood relatives he had. The name was gone, but his blood flowed through the boys’ veins.
Gordon shook his somber feeling and said, “So, yes, the Battle of Rainbow Bridge. Well, not much happened after that. Like most wars, there are battles then days or weeks where nothing happens. It was the same for us. We were fortunate by spring boarding from that victory into smaller ones; we also had early success at recruitment. Gunny was able to track down Master Sergeant Simpson and convince him to head our way. At first he was reluctant to join our cause, but after what Colonel Barone had put them through, he thought it best to ask his Marines what they wanted. Overwhelmingly they voted to join Cascadia.”
“How? How did Gunny convince him?” Hunter asked, interrupting Gordon.
“Simple, everyone needs a place to call home,” Gordon replied.
“Makes sense,” Hunter said.
“With Top’s Marines and many local recruits, we had a decent-sized army. Most, and I mean most, I’d guess seventy-five percent of the recruits were just average joes with no experience, training or military knowledge. We acted fast after our victory. I knew I couldn’t sit around and let the people get lazy or complacent. With no help from Chenoweth, me and a few others worked quickly to train and outfit our new army.”
“Chenoweth, Chenoweth, that name sounds familiar. Who was he?” Hunter asked.
“I’d rather not talk about him,” Gordon answered.
Haley grumbled something unintelligible.
“What? Who was he?” Hunter asked, leaning further over the massive coffee table in anticipation of hearing something that few others had ever known.
“He was a—” Haley spat, but Gordon cut her off.
“Haley, honey, don’t get your blood pressure up,” Gordon said.
“Wait, you have to tell me,” Hunter urged.
“You’ll soon find out who Mr. Chenoweth was,” Gordon said.
“I’ll wait, then, but you’ve definitely piqued my curiosity. So tell me, how did the attack go on Mountain Home?” Hunter asked.
Gordon looked over at Sebastian, who was slowly sipping his scotch. He wasn’t ignoring Hunter, he just was curious why the two boys were polar opposites. “You really don’t talk much, do you?”
Surprised that Gordon asked him a question, he sat up straight and replied, “Nah, I kinda lay low unless there’s something really important.”
“You don’t think any of this is important?” Gordon asked him.
“I’m not saying that, I’m enjoying knowing how it all started. I just don’t batter people with endless questions like someone I know,” Sebastian said, giving a jab at Hunter.
“He’s just lazy, that’s all,” Hunter fired back.
“Well, at least I don’t work for—”
“Not again,” Hunter snapped, interrupting Sebastian.
“Boys, enough, you both need to learn how important family is and realize that the only person you can really trust is sitting across from you,” Gordon lectured.
“He just infuriates me,” Hunter said.
“Don’t let petty issues get in the way of the big picture. You two need one another,” Gordon said.
“Sorry,” Sebastian said.
Gordon looked at Hunter and waited for his response.
Hunter nervously looked at Gordon then turned his gaze to Sebastian. “Sorry.”
“Good. Let me continue. We had just defeated Schmidt and had spent the next eight weeks training recruits for our new army. We had small skirmishes against US troops here and there, primarily old Idaho National Guard units sent up, but no major engagements until Mountain Home. I knew the only way to win the war was to go on the offensive. We had an advantage, but we couldn’t allow Conner to field another force, so I needed to strike at a major installation.”
Hunter couldn’t control himself; he had another question nagging. “Why there and not Fort Lewis?”
“We sent some forces to Yakima just outside Fort Lewis, but I believed the best way to win the war quickly was to defeat Conner on his turf and take Cheyenne. If we could march on his capital, we could then sue for peace and end it quickly. So against Charles’s wishes, I moved my army south. I also had the weather to consider and didn’t want to get stuck in the valley during winter.”
“But you still risked a lot moving them towards Cheyenne with winter approaching,” Hunter interjected.
“That may be, but at the time I needed a major victory, one to show Conner, Olympia and the people that we could win and win big. You see, Hunter, not all missions are conducted solely for strategic military reasons but also for politics and morale. Taking Mountain Home would accomplish all of our objectives; one was to remove any doubt that our early victories were an anomaly. I also had hopes that if we won at Mountain Home, Conner might just want to talk. Of course, that was proven wrong.” Gordon paused and took a sip of scotch.
“Tell them why, Dad,” Haley requested.
Hunter looked at Haley then to Gordon.
Even Sebastian perked up after Haley spoke.
Gordon shook his head, clearly frustrated.
“I don’t see why you’re still mad about it. We all know the eventual outcome,” Haley said.
“I was just a fool. I let my anger control me too much when I was younger,” Gordon said. He looked up and fixed his gaze on Hunter. “Don’t let that Van Zandt anger control you. Channel it, control it; don’t let it control you.”
Hunter nodded.
Sebastian also nodded, knowing that he had some of that quick temper in him too.
“What happened?” Hunter asked, too impatient to allow Gordon an extended pause.
Gordon lea
ned back and looked at the large painting that hung above the mantel. He could still hear Samantha convincing him that it belonged there instead of the musket or deer head he had wanted. He eventually relented and allowed her to do what she wanted. Life was too short, he thought then, to quibble. If letting her favorite artist hang in a prominent spot gave her happiness, how could he deny that? He now reflected on that decision and was happy he had agreed with her. Seeing it, like other things, reminded him of her and how wonderful she was. He wished his temperament outside the home could have been similar, but it wasn’t and it got him in trouble a few times.
“Dad?” Haley asked, touching Gordon on the knee.
Jerked back to the present, Gordon apologized, “Sorry, I drifted away there. That painting there was your grandmother’s favorite.”
“It looks out of place,” Sebastian said, looking at the painting. “Who is it?”
“Anastasia, a czarina of Russia, it’s painted in the iconic style often found in Orthodox churches,” Gordon explained.
“Now it makes sense,” Sebastian said as he cocked his head, admiring the painting more now that he had a tidbit of information on it.
“It’s an original, by the way. Cost me a few bucks back in the day,” Gordon said.
“Worthless now,” Hunter said.
“On the contrary, it’s priceless to me and I’m sure someone would pay top money for that now. Smirnov was an acclaimed artist of the late twentieth century,” Gordon said, defending the art.
“Anyway, please continue with what happened at Mountain Home,” Hunter pressed.
“Before I do, I want to stress the importance of not allowing your emotions to run your lives. People will redefine it to make it sound sexy by calling it passion, and let me tell you, too much passion can get you in a heap of trouble. I’m not saying you can’t have fun or be adventurous, I’m just saying to use all your faculties, one being your mind. Let your heart speak, but give your head equal footing.”
Blood, Sweat & Tears: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 5) Page 1