299 Days: The 17th Irregulars

by Glen Tate

  The family that the Folsoms were staying with had a nice house. A dog was barking and a middle-aged man came out with a shotgun. Grant didn’t recognize him, but the man recognized Grant.

  “Judge Matson, what can we do for you?” the man asked as he lowered the shotgun.

  “Could I talk to Nick Folsom?” Grant asked.

  “Sure,” the man said. A minute later, a young guy in his early twenties came out. He had black hair and was average looking in every way.

  “I’m Nick Folsom,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  The middle-aged man also came out and said, “We have some lunch for you if you’d like.” Perfect, Grant thought. It was always easier to get to know someone over a meal, and Grant needed to get to know Nick quickly and make some key decisions about him. Besides, Grant was hungry.

  “Sure,” Grant said. “Mind if my daughter and her boyfriend join us?”

  “No problem,” the man said. He extended his hand, “I’m Jay Minton.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jay,” Grant said. “I’m Grant Matson.”

  “Oh, we know,” Jay said. “We’ve been to some of the Grange meetings.” Grant felt like a mini-celebrity. His first thought was that any credibility he had from his Grange work could be used to recruit Nick into the unit out at Marion Farm.

  The families assembled for lunch, which consisted of sandwiches on homemade bread. They were really good. The Folsom babies, ages one and two, had just gone to sleep. Nick’s wife, Rita, looked tired. She looked young to be a mom. Then again, Nick looked young to be a dad.

  They made small talk. The Mintons had been in Pierce Point for about five years. They had moved here from Colorado. Jay’s job as a store manager took him to this area. He used to work in Olympia at the mall, but his store closed about a year ago. They had been living a simple life since then. They had enough to eat and did OK, but it was definitely a much less extravagant life than before the Collapse. They were getting by in a different way than they were used to, but getting by. Grant didn’t ask, but he suspected the Mintons were living on the one year worth of food Mormons were supposed to store up.

  In the course of the small talk, Grant had a favorable impression of Nick. He was a young guy who joined the military to get some college money. He went into the combat medic field because he wanted to go medical school, but the Collapse ended that. That gave Nick a personal motive to get things back to normal, Grant thought. Nick’s dreams had been destroyed.

  Grant wanted to know two things about Nick. First, his politics. Given that he was Mormon and in the military, the odds were pretty good that he wasn’t a socialist. Second, would Rita let him go off to war? That was a biggie. Grant could relate to that.

  “So, what do you guys think about this whole situation, if you don’t mind me asking,” Grant inquired after a while. He didn’t have all day to beat around the bush about politics.

  “Totally predictable,” Jay said about the current situation. He described all the insane regulations and taxes imposed on his store before the Collapse. He described how the police wouldn’t do a thing about the ever-increasing shoplifting. Then it became violent crime in the parking lot of the mall. Pretty soon, it became too dangerous for his employees to go to work.

  “I realized about a year ago that this was absolutely inevitable,” Jay said. “So we…” Jay paused. He didn’t want to say how prepared they were and how much food they had.

  “…did some commonsense things,” Jay said. “Glad we did.”

  “What do you think will happen next?” Grant asked. Jay was silent. He didn’t want to say it. Neither did Nick.

  Fair enough, Grant thought. He walked into their house and was asking them if they were waiting for a revolution. He recognized that he needed to respect their privacy a little more.

  “Well,” Grant said, “I think there is going to be armed trouble.” That got their attention. They were thinking the same thing. Grant knew there were two directions to take the “armed trouble” talk. So he chose the safe route.

  “You know, gangs,” Grant said. “That’s why we have a pretty amazing gate guard and a beach patrol. And our internal SWAT team, which I’m fortunate enough to be a nominal member of. I’m the old guy they let hang out with them.” That got a few smiles. Grant was warming them up to the topic of “armed trouble.” The topic of gangs was always the way to ease into the topic of fighting the government. If people accepted that fighting was necessary because of the gangs, the next logical step was fighting the biggest gang of all: the government.

  “Nick, what did you see at Ft. Lewis?” Grant asked. He was cutting to the chase. Normally, he would have taken a few visits to get to this topic. But he didn’t have time. He didn’t want Nick to get too settled into the Minton house. And he needed a military medic out at Marion Farm right then.

  Nick was trying to avoid this topic, but the judge had asked a question, so he answered. “Lots of bad stuff,” Nick said, darting his eyes to Rita.

  “I’m so glad we’re out of there,” Rita said. “It was horrible. The base was like a prison. And people thought we were hoarding food. I felt like they were going to turn on us.”

  Good. Rita was not exactly suffering from normalcy bias.

  “So you left?” Grant asked to get them to tell the story. They gave Grant the short version. Things were bad at Nick’s unit. Soldiers were taking off. They were trying to get back to their families all over the U.S. Crime was out of control and they were needed back home. Pretty soon, half the unit was gone. The commanding officer left, too. The first sergeant was holding things together until the Southern and mountain West states were talking about “opting out” of the union. Then the remaining soldiers knew something bad was coming. Most took off. That’s when Nick realized it was time to go.

  Nick and Rita got in their car and headed to a family in Frederickson suggested by someone at their church. The trip took four days with many roadblocks and hassles to get gas. They spent all the money they had on gas. They ran out of money and got hungry, but had plenty of food for the babies

  When they got to Frederickson, the family they were supposed to stay with had already left. They weren’t sure why. They went to their backup plan, which was to meet the Mintons in Pierce Point. Their GPS unit wasn’t working so they couldn’t find Pierce Point. Their car broke down and they thought they were doomed.

  “I’ll never forget when we told that Al guy that we were looking for the Mintons,” Rita said, “and he goes, ‘Oh, yeah, they live here.’ I will never forget that.”

  “It’s almost like you’re supposed to be here,” Grant said, shameless appealing to their faith. Grant needed a medic and he truly believed that it was a miracle that the Folsoms got out to Pierce Point.

  “Yes,” Nick said, slowly nodding his head. “Yes, sir, it is.”

  Grant felt like this was the moment to make The Ask. “Nick, could I talk to you for a moment?” Nick looked surprised. Rita nodded and Nick got up from the table. They went into the living room.

  “Nick,” Grant said in a soft voice, “I need your help. We need your help. Your country—the real one—needs your help.” Grant had decided to not even use the “rental team” story. He didn’t want to deceive Nick. Either the real Patriot story would motivate Nick or he wasn’t right for this job.

  Nick realized what was coming. “Yes, sir,” he said, waiting to hear more.

  “Nick, do you want to fix this place so you can go to medical school?” Grant asked. He was using Nick’s dreams to motivate him. It was for a good cause.

  “Yes, sir,” Nick said. He looked toward the room where his son and daughter were asleep. “I want to fix this country for them.”

  “You know how to do that, don’t you?” Grant asked Nick. Grant knew that Nick had been thinking about joining the Patriots. That was probably a hot topic of discussion at his unit as it was disintegrating.

  Nick nodded. He didn’t want to say it out loud. He didn’t want to ad
mit that joining the Patriots is what it would take.

  “Have you heard of Oath Keepers?” Grant asked. He started to explain what that was.

  “I’m in, sir. I’m in,” Nick blurted out. “I know why you’re here and what you’re asking of me. I will do it. My wife and I have already talked about it. She and I believe this is what God sent me to do. She is OK with me not being around for a while. We have the Mintons to help us with the babies.” Nick straightened his posture, looked Grant in the eye, and said, “I’m in.”

  That was easier than Grant expected. He was stunned.

  Grant started to think of what Nick would need. “You can have some days off during training and come back here to be with your family, but you can’t tell them what you’re doing or where we’re at. Understand?” Grant said that last part with a slight grit in his teeth. He wanted Nick to appreciate—with body language, not just words—how important secrecy was.

  “Yes, sir,” Nick said. “Absolutely. Last thing I want is for the Limas to find us.”

  Limas? Grant smiled that Nick was using the lingo.

  “How soon can you start?” Grant asked.

  “Now,” Nick said. “This is meant to be and I’m going to give it my all.”

  “OK,” Grant said. He paused to think. He hadn’t planned on this happening so quickly. “I’ll take you to our base. You’ll go blindfolded until we check you out further. No offense.”

  “None taken, sir,” Nick said. “I’d do the same.” Then Nick looked puzzled.

  “What kind of unit is it?” Nick asked. “I mean, I owe my wife the assurance that I’m not joining up with five guys with shotguns.” Nick realized that he might be offending Grant because the unit might actually be five guys with shotguns.

  Grant smiled. “Let’s just say that we have plenty of your former colleagues from Ft. Lewis.” Grant grinned and said. “Plenty.”

  “Roger that,” Nick said. He was getting back in the swing of the military.

  “Let’s go finish lunch and then you can tell your wife,” Grant said. “I’ll be back an hour later to take you out there. Bring all your stuff. You’ll be living in a covered building. We have water and electricity. It’s not roughing it, but it’s not luxury.”

  Nick nodded. He was starting to realize the enormity of what he just agreed to do.

  Grant put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “We’re going to get our country back. I’ll be calling you ‘Doctor’ someday.”

  Nick forced a smile. It was the kind of smile when you’re having a bad day and someone makes you laugh. Nick was forcing a smile because, while he appreciated the positive thought about being a doctor, he knew how dangerous this would be. He knew he’d be away from his babies and wife for months or maybe years. Or maybe forever. But he knew he had to do it.

  Nick’s daughter started crying. Nick instinctively started to go toward her.

  “That’s why you’re doing this,” Grant said as he pointed toward the room with the crying baby.

  “Yep,” Nick said. “I’ll have a great story to tell them when they’re older.”

  Nick walked out of the living room and said to Rita, “Got it, honey. Eat your lunch.”

  Chapter 213

  Just Like Normal

  (August 1)

  Grant went back and finished lunch like nothing happened. So did Nick, after he took care of the baby. A real man, Grant thought. Taking care of the baby like that. Letting his wife rest a little.

  Manda and Jordan were catching up Jay Minton and his wife, Grace, on what it was like being a teen out at Pierce Point. The social scene and how their pre-Collapse lives had been changed. For the better in some aspects, worse in others.

  Lunch was over and it was time to go.

  “Thank you so much for your hospitality,” Grant said. Grant wanted Nick to break the news of his pending departure to Rita himself so Grant didn’t say, “Be back in an hour.” Grant, Manda, and Jordan left and, by habit, Grant went toward the driver’s seat. Then he remembered someone else was driving.

  “You can drive, Jordan,” Grant said. Jordan smiled and held his hands out for the keys to be thrown to him. Which Grant did. They drove back to the Sparks’ house and dropped him off. Jordan gave Manda a goodbye kiss in front of Grant. Good for him. He’s not a wimp, Grant thought.

  Grant drove back to the cabin. John waved them through at the guard shack. He was surprised to see Grant driving the Tacura.

  “Just turning the engine over every couple of months,” Grant said. Actually, he would shortly be using the Tacura to go to Marion Farm, but John didn’t know about Marion Farm. Yet another person Grant wasn’t being honest with.

  It was getting hard to keep track of who knew which story and who didn’t. Especially when some people, like John, knew some of the true things, but not others. Grant knew he would slip up soon.

  Grant dropped off Manda. “Her” kids were already there. They were glad to see her. So was Cole. She resumed her role as the CEO of the babysitters.

  Grant had a little time to kill before he had to be back at the Minton’s to get Nick. He wanted to give Nick a sufficient amount of time to say goodbye to Rita, at least for a while until he could visit her and the kids again.

  Grant couldn’t stand to waste time; he had to do something productive at all times. He went to the shed at his cabin and looked at all of the plastic tubs of food, stacked almost to the ceiling. He had the inventory list out, with the contents of each numbered tub. This way, they didn’t need to move a bunch of heavy tubs to find the ones with some oatmeal if oatmeal was what they were looking for. And the inventory had the expiration dates for the various items so they could eat the soonest expiring ones first.

  Grant looked at the inventory list. The date of the list caught his eye, which was almost two years ago, and remembered how crazy it seemed to most people back then to buy up and store food. There was lots of food in the stores. Why go to all this trouble? This is why Grant did this in secret. So he wouldn’t get “caught” by Lisa and have to answer these questions. So his wife wouldn’t think he was crazy.

  But she enjoyed oatmeal for breakfast now. Many others didn’t have any breakfast. Grant had long ago gotten over the “I told you so” feeling. He didn’t look at all the food in that shed as an “I told you so.” He looked at it as a “Thank God I can take care of my family.”

  Besides, there was no upside to saying “I told you so.” Grant knew how Lisa worked: She couldn’t admit being wrong. Once she realized she was wrong, she would just be nice to Grant and act like she had never been wrong.

  That’s what she was doing now. In fact, she was adapting incredibly well—better than he thought—to her new life as a doctor living out in the sticks and getting paid in cans of tuna. Grant had underestimated her. He was glad to have been wrong.

  Grant looked at the date again. He swelled up with pride that he had done all this prepping. “Pride” maybe wasn’t the best word. “Thankful” and “at peace” was more like it. He might pat himself on the back for something wise he did that was less important. If, for example, he would have bought a snow shovel in the summer and it snowed a lot that winter and the stores were out of snow shovels. That was pat-on-the-back material. But having food for his family when few others could count on feeding their kids—that was way too important for a pat on the back. That was just pure thankfulness and peace.Grant looked at the inventory list. He saw all the can openers from the Dollar Store. He got about a dozen and had given most of them away. People were so thankful to have a can opener. Many didn’t have them because they always ate drive-through or microwave food. For a one-dollar can opener, Grant had made some lifelong friends who would now literally die for him. Not a bad deal. All it took was the self-confidence to buy a bunch of can openers when times were good and not worry that the cashier thought you were crazy. Once you get over that, saving your family’s life gets much easier. Not a bad deal at all.

  Grant looked at his watch. He had sl
owly gotten used to wearing one. In peacetime, he never did. He was around a clock all the time. His cell phone, his car clock, his computer screen. Not anymore. And now that he was doing things that sometimes involved armed men being at the same place at the precisely the same time to counter other armed men, being on time was critical.

  Half an hour had gone by. Grant had a stop to make at the Grange so it was time to leave and then go get Nick and take him to the farm. He wasn’t looking forward to tearing Nick away from Rita. He wasn’t looking forward to that at all. Grant got back in the Tacura and took off. John waved him by.

  On the way to the Grange, Grant noticed that there were no other cars. Lots and lots of bikes, though. Most people, especially those with kids, had bikes but rarely used them in peacetime. That had changed. Now it was the primary mode of transportation in Pierce Point. And, Grant suspected, elsewhere in America.

  Grant pulled into the Grange to the strange looks of everyone who saw a new car they hadn’t seen before. They were surprised when Grant got out of it. They’d never seen him drive it.

  Grant went in and found Drew. “I need a meal card for Rita Folsom and her two kids,” Grant said. He whispered, “Make up something that she’s donating. Trust me.” Drew nodded and a few minutes later came back with an official Pierce Point card for Rita “and two infant children.” Grant thanked him and left.

  Grant pulled into the Minton house and rang the doorbell. He could hear a woman crying. Jay Minton answered the door and, without saying a word, waved Grant into the living room. Jay’s wife, Grace, was crying. Rita wasn’t. Rita just kept hugging Nick. She gave him each baby to hold one last time. For a while, at least. He would be back to visit. Grant was amazed at how understanding Rita was. Amazed.