by Glen Tate
“Yes, sir,” Tom said. A report meant that Tom would write down that a “counter-terrorist mission was initiated but had to return due to a helicopter malfunction.” This meant it would count as a mission for Saunders’ statistics. Then Saunders could tell his boss about the mission that went out, and their bosses could tell their bosses that it went out. Except it didn’t. Everyone’s statistics would look good, which was much more important than actually fighting the Patriots.
Before he wrote the report, Tom grabbed one of the outdated search and rescue radios, the kind used by pilots to radio in their positions if they were downed, and went outside to get some fresh air. Those old radios ran on a set of frequencies that weren’t used much anymore because there were so few air missions going out that no one really monitored them.
Once he was outside and away from anyone, he pulled out the scrap of paper and called in the coordinates.
Chapter 169
Pretty Good…Considering
(July 5)
Tammy Colson was running late for work. She hit the snooze bar on the alarm clock, which was always dangerous, and now she was seven minutes late. She had her morning routine down to the last minute.
Tammy, who was a typical American woman in her late forties, was getting dressed and checked the clock again. Dang. She was definitely going to be late, which she hated.. She always had. She paused and chuckled to herself. No one was on time anymore. Being exactly on time was what people did before the Collapse. Now, everyone pretty much showed up when they showed up. Life had slowed immensely.
OK, I’m late, she thought. Deal with it. She laughed at herself. Years and years of habit, like being perfectly punctual, were hard to break. She wanted to work on breaking her habit, so instead of her usual routine of rushing out of the house without eating, and then being hungry all day until lunch, Tammy made herself breakfast. Oatmeal. Her neighbors out here, the Matsons, had plenty of it and had given a five-pound bag to her family. Plain oatmeal was nothing special, but the Matsons gave them a bunch of hot cocoa mix, too, which Tammy put into the oatmeal. Now she had sweetened chocolate oatmeal. It was really good. She felt relaxed. She was going to be late to work, and it wasn’t going to stress her out.
Tammy got into her car and headed to work at the local power company. She was the only driver on the roads in Pierce Point. She was the only person (at least that she knew of) in Pierce Point who got free gas, so she still drove places.
There was a deal of sorts. The government needed the people, like her, who could run the electrical system to be at work so they made sure key workers at utilities had gas for their cars. They looked the other way when those key workers sold the small amounts of the extra gas they received. It was considered a “retention bonus” to keep key people. The last thing the government wanted was for the utilities to be cut off to people they were trying to keep happy and calm…and compliant.
Having gas wasn’t the only concern that utility workers had. They also had to get to work safely. Luckily for Tammy, the power company was only five miles from the Pierce Point gate. Tammy, a country girl through and through, carried a 1911 in a shoulder holster, making it much easier to access when driving than it would be if it were in a belt holster. Mark, her husband, had initially wanted to ride with her, but then realized he had to stay at her office all day because he couldn’t drive back and forth. The extra gas was only for an employee to get to work and get home; the extra trip for someone dropping an employee off and picking him or her up was not allowed. They were lucky to have gas at all, and there was no reason to push it with extra trips.
Mark and Tammy talked about it and decided the risk of Tammy driving a short distance alone, well-armed, was worth it because Mark could be back at Pierce Point all day to do all the things he needed to do there.
Oh crap, Tammy thought, as she was leisurely driving to work. She remembered that there was a reason she had been keeping her commitment to being on time lately. Given the dangers of getting to work, the power company had a system where an alarm went off if an employee was late, alerting them to a possible ambush on the roads.
Tammy was now a solid twenty minutes late. They were probably out looking for her. She got on her cell phone and called in to let them know that she was fine, but running a little late. She decided that her habit about being on time was more important than being a free spirit and being late. She was just wired to be on time.
Tammy was technically the billing supervisor, but they weren’t sending out bills anymore, but the company found plenty of other work for her to do. She had been at the power company for over thirty years and knew how just about everything worked. She had evolved into the company manager’s right hand person, and could problem solve just about anything, which was good since the company had plenty of problems that needed solving.
When the Collapse started, they had the blackouts to deal with. The Feds shut down the grids when the hackers figured out how to overload the system with surges of power. The hackers, who everyone thought were the Chinese even though the news kept saying they were teabaggers, disabled the computer routing switches regulating the levels of electricity in the lines. With the flow switches off, it was very easy for too much to flow and blow up a line along with all the transformers on that line. Because the switches were sometimes off due to the hacking, the Feds shut the system down for about two days until they got control over the computers. Then they lost control a few days later from more hacking—from Russia this time—and shut things down again. This happened a few more times, but the Feds were getting a better handle on things. Now blackouts were less common.
A new problem quickly emerged. Running a power company required lots of machines, which required lots of replacement parts that need to be delivered by trucks, which required diesel and safe roads. The same just-in-time inventory fiasco that the rest of the U.S. was facing also hit the power company. They ran out of parts in two days. They had to shut the power off to a third of the county while they waited for a $35 part to arrive. When the highways were jammed and the diesel was gone, it took three days to get the part. It was the company manager’s friend who lived in Seattle who braved the roads during the initial chaos and got the part there.
The distribution system improved slowly, although it was still horrible. The government threw almost all their military and law enforcement resources at the task of taking control of the highways. With troops and police forcibly occupying onramps and off ramps, and overpasses, the government prevented civilians from travelling, sometimes violently. Only government-approved shipments such as fuel, spare parts, and military supplies, got through. Similarly, the government took over all the gas stations and refineries. After a while, they were getting enough fuel out to take care of the greatly reduced levels of travel. Tammy estimated that there was only about five percent of the normal traffic, and most of that was semi and other trucks and military vehicles. Individuals like her, driving cars, were almost unheard of. More and more people were staying at home waiting for food to arrive at a store and then walking there to get it. They spent most of their day trying to stay safe and trading rumors about who had supplies for sale.
“Mornin’ Tammy,” Dan Morgan said. He was at the gate, as usual. “A little late this morning,” he said to her. He was so on top of everything. Dan was doing a fantastic job of running the guards.
The rest of the drive to work Tammy thought about how lucky they were. All the amazingly talented people they had out there. All those guards who were well-armed and so organized. Other than the differing guns and clothes, they looked like a military unit. There was also that fabulous Team who took down the animals in the meth house. Pierce Point had Rich, who made everyone feel so safe. And there was Grant who really got people feeling like they were going to make it. Then there was Lisa. A doctor! They actually had a doctor out there. Pierce Point had a clinic and even a newspaper and a church. Life was semi-normal for Pierce Point. It was different but it could have been a
lot worse. Tammy felt like they had the things they needed out there, like security and food, but none of the unnecessary things that had previously piled up in their lives, like running all over town to buy this year’s outdoor furniture, only to throw it in a landfill after a summer or two. Getting new outdoor furniture had been on her to-do list right before May Day. She had actually been stressed out over which lawn furniture to buy for the coming BBQ season. She now realized just how insignificant a thing that was to worry about. Her perspective felt like it had shifted dramatically. Being safe, having food, the lights being on, and having her family safe with her was what mattered. That’s what matters, she said to herself. Although, in a weird way, she wanted her “normal” life back, like the mad dash for this year’s patio furniture. She didn’t really want the patio furniture; she just wanted the “normal” of the patio furniture.
As she kept driving the few miles to work, as fast as she wanted because there were no cars on the road, Tammy thought about her family. Mark was hunting and fishing, which he loved to do. He had been happier than she’d seen him in quite some time. Little Missy was having a ball with Manda and Cole Matson. It was good for her to have some friends and a teenage girl to look up to.
But Tammy’s biggest joy was her son, Paul. He had come out of his shell. He had been so depressed before the Collapse. That custody fight was so hard on him and he had gained all that weight. Before the Collapse, he spent all his time laying around the house and complaining about everything.
But not now; he built that metal gate for the entrance. She thought about it every day that she went through the gate on her way to work. He got to put his metal fabrication skills to use and was proud of what he’d done.
But, the best thing for Paul was that he was on the beach patrol. He was putting his knowledge of the currents and tides of the inlet to great use. They were out there preventing people from coming ashore and doing God knows what to Pierce Point. Paul was so busy that she didn’t see him much anymore. But, when she did see him, she noticed how much weight he’d lost, how tan he was, and how he smiled all the time. He was confident now.
Things were pretty good, considering. She pulled into work and got ready for a day of problem solving. She had a feeling she would be doing a lot of that today.
Chapter 170
Grandma Did a Bad Thing
(July 5)
As she pulled into work, Tammy noticed two things. First, the clock in her car said she was late. Second, there was a new vehicle in the parking lot. It was a State Parks Department truck, which was odd. The nearest state park was a few miles away, but had been closed for over a year because of the budget cuts.
Tammy parked in her usual spot and got out, hurrying because she was late. Bill Stadler, the company manager came out and motioned for her to come over to him.
Bill was in his sixties, had glasses, and wore short-sleeved buttoned shirts during warm weather. He had a pocket protector and something not too many electrical engineers had: a way with people. He was one of the kindest people Tammy had ever met.
Bill looked nervous when he saw Tammy. He motioned for her to keep her voice down.
Tammy whispered, “Sorry, I’m late Bill. I hit the snooze…”
“Shhhh,” Bill said. That was unlike him to interrupt. This must be important.
He pointed at the state pickup truck. “The FC are here,” he said, referring to the Freedom Corps.
Oh crap. This wasn’t good. Their little power company had been left alone throughout the Collapse. Tammy had wondered how long they could continue to do things without any government interference. Not much longer, it appeared.
“What do they want?” She asked in a whisper.
“To take over,” Bill said. For the first time in the twenty or so years Tammy had known Bill, he looked pissed. He was defending his people and his beloved power company from those outsiders.
Bill explained that a man from the FC had come an hour earlier and told him that the government was going to take control of the power company. It was part of a plan, the FC man said, to “focus resources.” Bill interpreted that to mean cutting off power to areas of the county, or maybe the whole county.
Bill was not a political person. He was an electrical engineer by training and had taken a lot of management courses to become the manager of a little power company. He was very smart. Since before the Collapse, he could see where things were headed and wondered when the government would try to use utilities as a weapon. He kept telling himself that wouldn’t happen in America, although it was easy for the imagination to conjure up.
But, Bill was an engineer and realized how vital the electricity flowing through his company was to the wellbeing of the county. It was absolutely critical. Nothing could make people want to leave the rural areas more than cutting off the utilities. He figured the government knew this, too.
Bill kept coming back to the idea that, at some point, the government might try to take over the utility. They had taken over the highways and fueling stations. Hell, they had taken over everything else, hadn’t they?
Bill was like most Americans: an Undecided who was just trying to get by, but the more he saw of how the government was treating people—especially how they let the gangs run wild and how corrupt things were—the more he felt himself leaning toward the Patriots. He was an engineer, not a fighter, he kept telling himself. He was not a hero. But he kept returning to the idea that he had some control over a vital asset: electricity in his little county. He could not talk himself out of the logical conclusion that, at some point, his control over that asset might put him in conflict with the government. He really didn’t want to do that, but he loved this county and its people. He wouldn’t let them suffer like that.
“Tammy, you know what would happen if they take over,” Bill said, trusting Tammy like a sister. Bill never talked to her about politics, but had picked up on several signs that she was either a full-on Patriot or Patriot sympathizer. Bill was now risking jail or worse by talking this way, but he had to trust Tammy for his plan to work.
“Are you sure they want to take over?” Tammy asked Bill. She was hoping the FC was out just to give another one of those talks about keeping alert for terrorists: Ron Paul bumper stickers, Don’t Tread on Me flags, etc.
“Yes,” Bill said. “They told me. It’s part of some new program. He said some National Guard troops would be coming out later this afternoon along with a team of officials who would oversee the shut offs.” Bill looked terrified when he said “shut offs.” Those words scared him.
“Does he think we’ll just do that?” Tammy asked.
Bill nodded. “I told him we were all loyal. I told him we were committed to the recovery efforts.” Bill pointed to the FC sign in the parking lot that said “We support the Recovery.”
Bill continued, but lowered his voice now to a faint whisper and pointed to the FC man walking into the power company office. “He seems kind of stupid. He’s from Olympia where I think everyone just does what they’re told.” Bill looked at Tammy in the eyes and said, “We’re different out here.”
Tammy interpreted that as some kind of code, like Bill wanted to do something drastic to prevent the FC from taking over. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Bill looked Tammy in the eyes again and said, “I mean we can’t let this happen.”
“How?” Tammy whispered.
Bill just stared at her, then he looked at the pistol in her shoulder holster and then he looked over at the FC man. Bill nodded slowly.
Oh, God. Kill him? Was this really happening?
Was there a choice? They couldn’t let the government shut off the power. But…were they supposed to murder someone and then have all the cops come out?
“You’re not suggesting…” Tammy whispered.
Bill slowly nodded.
Tammy thought about it. Things had been going too well. It was impossible to get through the Collapse and war, or whatever it was, without being directly inv
olved in it. Was she going to let those corrupt bastards permanently destroy her county? Hell no. She had long ago told herself that she would die to protect her children. Well, this was her chance.
“How? How will we do this?” she whispered.
Bill looked around again to make sure no one was listening. “Here’s an idea,” he said in that faint whisper.
Tammy listened as Bill outlined idea for getting rid of the FC man. It was a good plan.
“Do I have to be part of it?” she asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes,” Bill said. “Can you think of another way?” Bill was a little hurt that Tammy, who he trusted so much, was trying to get out of this.
Tammy thought and thought. Her mind was racing. How to do this differently? How to do this without hurting anyone? She came up blank.
She paused. She was about to make the most important decision of her life.
“OK. I’m in,” she said, very quietly. She wasn’t proud of this, but also didn’t feel like she had much of a choice.
The next hour or so was the longest wait in her life. She knew what was going to happen and had to play along like she didn’t. She was trying so hard to act normal.
They were in the conference room with the FC man. He was a typical looking white-collar guy in his mid-forties. He had a pistol on his belt. He looked tired and never introduced himself to Tammy. He was kind of a dick and talked down to them a little.
It was pretty obvious he was not leveling with them. He would say that the shut-off would be temporary, but then said that trucks would come to take county residents to Olympia where the power would be more reliable. Why truck people out of the county if the shut-offs were just temporary? They had been living with intermittent power outage for weeks. Why, all of a sudden, did that mean depopulating the county? The story the FC man was telling was so laughable that it was insulting. Did he think they were stupid?