The World Cowers

by Boyd Craven III

  Maybe it was that she wanted him to shut up about it, but she relented and took the handset and walked towards the entrance of the DUMB so she could get better reception. She knew she could have gone into the communications room and dialed in, but she wanted distance from her husband to think.

  “I’ll listen, just give me some space,” she told her husband, who’d largely gone forgotten in the hearing and was embarrassed that he didn’t do anything to shield the pregnant woman from Davis’s charge.

  “Ok, I’ll be here.” Cates watched as his wife walked away, then sat down at the folding table, one of the Spartan furnishings in their shared room.

  He’d been going stir crazy living underground for months, eating the same canned food, jogging loops through the inner tunnels for exercise. Then he’d overheard some of the communications guys talking about Rebel Radio. The name alone got him curious and he asked. Apparently there was a guy who gave survival tips on a frequency and it’d become one of their favorite pastimes. He had a handset in the locker, so he tuned in at the appointed time and became a fan immediately.

  He couldn’t broadcast with his handset, but he could listen to information that had been shared all over the country. It wasn’t the most reliable information, sometimes passing through two or more people’s mouths and interpretations. He heard some big whoppers and outright falsehoods repeated enough times it made his head spin!

  The thing that had alarmed him enough to get his wife involved finally, was listening to the tone of the country now calling in on the frequency and how it seemed an uprising was going to happen. Martin thought he was a pretty smart guy and, if the word got out that one of the post apocalypse’s cult heroes was being held, charged and potentially executed, it would be ugly. He sat and stewed, hoping his wife would come to the same conclusions he did, because he couldn’t talk to her about Blake any more. She thought he was blinded by his “fan devotion”, whatever that meant.

  Their door opened and he stood. His wife’s face was grim.

  “We have to get him on the radio,” she said.

  “Why? Has something else happened?”

  “They’re talking about coming and getting him. Do you know how many people listen to this show?” Miranda asked him.

  “I do, that’s what I’ve been telling you.”

  “Go get the Jacksons. I’ll call ahead to Sherman or whoever’s on post. Get them up to communications right away. I want them on the air and I want it looped.”

  “What do you want them to say?” He asked, worried and wanting to hurry to listen in for himself.

  “The truth, they are being held, they are safe, they were tried and they are awaiting our decision. I do want you to tell them that this could be bad though, so don’t be inflammatory. I don’t want more people hurt.”

  “They won’t either,” he said, kissing his wife, almost running out the door.

  “That’s why, despite what’s going on, I think they’ll do it. God, I need a drink,” she told the empty room and sat down, putting her face in her hands.

  * * *

  “Pamela, it’s safe to assume you’re fired,” Davis said, furious and venting his anger on his assistant who’d been in her quarters packing. Davis was standing in her open doorway, blocking the only exit.

  “I figured as much when I decked you. What happened to your face? Besides me?” Pamela asked, her disdain clear in her voice.

  Davis’s nose had been splinted and half of his face and neck were already bruising. Only one small amount of that could be attributed to her slap.

  “Shut up! Listen you stupid bit—“

  Pamela had her back to him but sensed him moving past the door jam, hearing his steps. She spun, pulling a slim knife from her bags, stopping the Governor short as he almost impaled himself on the stiletto’s thin blade. His arms had been raised as if to throttle her.

  “I no longer work for you. I’ll get with Commander Cates and find out when I need to vacate the premises, but if you so much as come any closer…”

  “You dare to threaten me? I’m the Governor—“

  “Not for long, and not if you don’t move out of the lady’s room,” a voice said.

  Pamela couldn’t hear who’d spoken as the Governor’s bulk was blocking her view, but she heard the distinctive clicks of two safeties being turned off. Davis turned slowly and two guards he didn’t recognize were standing there, guns trained on him.

  “Like I said,” the older one repeated, “If you don’t start moving out of the lady’s room right now, I’m going to assume your intent was not one of a gentleman, and splatter your fat ass with tumblers. Your move, Governor.”

  “You can’t do this, you work for me!” The governor’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

  “I’m not part of the national guard, and neither is he,” he nodded to the second man who raised his rifle up, bringing the Governor in line with his sights.

  Either soldier could have hit him without aiming at that distance, but the move was meant to intimidate, and it worked. Immediately Davis dropped his hands to his sides. Pamela as well, lowered her knife, but kept it close to her side, ready to use in an instant. She stepped around Davis and approached the guards. The younger one moved out of the way and she slipped out of the doorway.

  “Governor Davis, you’ve received a message in communications. When we couldn’t find you in your rooms as ordered, even after you were in medical, we came to find you. You know how bad this looks, Sir?”

  “I run this state!” Davis fumed, but he was losing steam.

  “Sir, you need to come with us,” the younger soldier said, taking two steps closer, rifle still raised.

  “Do I get cuffed?” Davis squeaked.

  “It’s up to you, Sir. If you make one more hostile or threatening move, I have no problem ending you.”

  “I’ll come.” Davis said meekly, realizing for the first time how deep the hole he had dug was.

  * * *

  “He did what?” Lt. Commander Sola demanded, as the soldiers walked Governor John Davis in at gunpoint.

  “I didn’t do anything! I was having a conversation with my personal assistant, she and I—“

  “She pulled a knife and was about to pig stick him, after he charged her. Looked like he was going to choke her Sir,” the younger soldier answered.

  “You Sir, are an idiot,” Lt. Commander Sola said. “These two would have splattered you all across the room if you would have touched her.”

  “That’s what I told him Sir,” the holder soldier said.

  “You two, take positions outside the door with the Governor. I have to make a report of this,” he said, over the Governor’s objections and threats.

  “You two are going to regret this,” the Governor spat as they held him outside communications.

  “Sir, I follow orders. You are not in my chain of command. I may have to respect your office, but I do not have to respect you, Sir. Threats are not something you have the ability to follow through, so how about you shut up before I let that pregnant lady beat your ass again?” The older soldier, Collins, growled.

  “You... How?” Davis stuttered.

  “Oh yeah,” the younger soldier agreed, “The whole base has heard about it now. How the fat sack of shit, Boss Hogg got his ass handed to him by a petite pregnant lady. I can’t wait to hear if this is on Rebel Radio later on!”

  “No need to rile him up,” Collins said.

  The door opened and Davis was asked to join them inside.

  * * *

  “Tank,” Sandra asked, “What was Davis doing in there?”

  They had passed the big man being escorted out by two grizzled soldiers, both of whom were almost as red in the face as the man they held their guns on.

  “I’m not sure Ma’am, I was just asked to bring you here to communications.”

  “But why?” Blake asked.

  “Commander’s orders.”

  7

  Sgt. Smith had started breaking do
wn camp. It was the second day after Blake and Sandra had been arrested and taken. Almost every one of the men that came with him were going back. They’d talked and even fought over it. In the end, the units decided to stick together. There were a few holdouts, but they would soon be leaving the Homestead, so they wouldn’t bring trouble to the doorstep of the big extended family. Many of the men who would be joining them were also packing up, hugging their families goodbye, perhaps for the last time.

  “How many will be left here?” Duncan asked.

  He’d been put on medical restriction again by Lisa and Martha. He’d had a weakness in his left side and Martha speculated that he’d had a mild heart attack. It had been both shocking and sobering, so he rested in the living room where he could be close to the base radio and where the core group of the Homestead congregated so he could still be a part of it.

  “Quite a bit. With the food we’re going to be sending them, we’ll have enough food to still last the winter and then some. The corn and soybean crop that got harvested is going to be sent along as barter/payment for the men who don’t have equipment, uniforms,” Bobby, his son-in-law told him. “About 100 people all told.”

  “Half of the Homestead is going to be leaving?” Lisa asked, her voice shocked.

  “Yeah, and the thing is, about half of those that are leaving are volunteers. Single men and women. We won’t be hurting for defense as long as Sandra’s squad can maintain training for everyone over the age of ten.” Bobby finished, putting a pencil up he’d been using to doodle on the notebook he had.

  “Any word from Blake or Sandra?” Melissa asked, Bobby’s fiancée, and a member of Sandra’s squad.

  Duncan winced, “No, but I don’t expect to hear anything right away. I’m happier not to be hearing from Boss Hogg though. If I heard his smug voice over the radio, I’d know it’d be over for them.”

  “Me too baby,” Lisa said, sending Chris over with a plate of cookies.

  “I can’t eat these,” Duncan said, sounding sad.

  “Grandma said you can. Here,” Chris picked one up and tried shoving it into Duncan’s mouth.

  “No, no, I got this,” he said, making the recliner he’d been leaned back in sit up straight.

  He nibbled on the cookie and looked around, “I fell asleep last night. How was Rebel Radio?” Duncan asked.

  “With Blake off, everyone used the time to uh…” Patty said and her words trailed off.

  “Yeah?” Duncan asked.

  “Well you see… with Blake and Sandra arrested, things are looking ugly…” David told him.

  “How ugly?” Duncan asked, getting frustrated.

  “They’re forming a militia to free them or avenge them,” Bobby finished, “and they’re not being quiet or subtle about it. If people knew where they were being held—“

  “They’d do the same thing we would, go and get them.” Duncan said, finishing the thought.

  “They’re family,” Lisa told the room.

  “How long until Rebel Radio tonight?” Duncan asked, having slept off and on for quite a bit.

  “Blake’s time is on in an hour, but people are chattering away already,” David said, changing the frequency and turning it on.

  “…government thinks they can push us around, what they did to Blake and Sandra is one example of the reason things got so out of whack….”

  “I hear ya, after that bozo tried raiding Blake’s Homestead…”

  “Wow,” Duncan said, is it been like this?”

  “Ever since Davis got on the horn a couple days ago and those two were arrested. They have to do something about it sooner or—“

  The feed was interrupted by somebody with a strong signal. It came in loud and clear on the base unit at the Homestead and R.E.M.’s song “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It’ blasted out.

  “What’s this?” Duncan asked.

  “Somebody got ahold of a good song at least,” Lisa said, smiling and sang along.

  Her voice was joined in by the others who were not lost in the irony of the situation and, when the song cut off, everyone almost fell out of their chair as the person spoke.

  “Good afternoon everyone, this is Back Country J, Blake Jackson here with my wife Sandra,” “Hi, it’s Sandra,” her voice piped up, “We’re talking to you from an undisclosed government facility where we’ve been charged with multiple counts of murder and treason. I’m sorry I’m not on during my normal hours, but I’ve been told they’ll play this message once an hour on a loop, so everyone gets a chance to hear from us.

  We are fine, we’ve been treated well and by no means do we want people going off half-cocked. At this time, Governor Davis has been relieved of his duties and Sandra and I are awaiting the court’s decision.”

  “It’s military grade,” Patty said, looking at the controls and was shushed by everyone.

  “I want you all to know, no matter what it is the court decides, I will go with and abide by their decision. I debated this very issue on the air with you all, and I stand by my convictions. A government that would steal from the people and bully us around isn’t one I’m going to suffer. Wow, you guys let me say that?” Blake said quietly to somebody wherever he was talking too.

  “Anyways, it was my choice, my decision and it does in fact look like remnants of our government are coming out of hiding to start the rebuilding process and fight the invasion that’s coming in through the Southwestern border of the US.

  “So with that, I’m told I’ll be able to come on the air when our hearing is done and give everyone the verdict. I was given the option of being allowed to do this, because the people here don’t want to see anybody else hurt. I don’t either. This is Blake and Sandra, and we’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bubye,” Sandra said, her voice bubbling.

  * * *

  “Cue the iPod,” Blake told the man sitting to his left and waited until it was his time to speak.

  “Good afternoon everyone, this is Back Country J, Blake Jackson here with my wife Sandra,” he said grinning and handing the mic over to her.

  “Hi, it’s Sandra,” Sandra said, giving the mic back to Blake.

  “Talking to you from an undisclosed government facility where we’ve been charged with multiple counts of murder and treason. I’m sorry I’m not on during my normal hours, but I’ve been told they’ll play this message once an hour on a loops so everyone gets a chance to hear from us.

  We are fine, we’ve been treated well and by no means do we want people going off halfcocked. At this time, Governor Davis has been relieved of his duties and Sandra and I are awaiting the court’s decision.”

  Blake paused to get a sip of water. He’d been eager and ready to make this transmission, especially when he’d gotten the news about Davis.

  “I want you all to know, no matter what it is the court decides, I will go with and abide by their decision. I debated this very issue on the air with you all, and I stand by my convictions. A government that would steal from the people and bully us around isn’t one I’m going to suffer.” He forgot to let off the transmit switch and turned to Cates in amusement.

  Cates sat there, his arms folded, “Wow, you guys let me say that?” Blake said before continuing, “Anyways, it was my choice, my decision and it does in fact look like remnants of our government are coming out of hiding to start the rebuilding process and fight the invasion that’s coming in through the southwestern border of the US.

  “So with that, I’m told I’ll be able to come on the air when our hearing is done and give everyone the verdict. I was given the option of being allowed to do this, because the people here don’t want to see anybody else hurt. I don’t either. This is Blake and Sandra, and we’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bubye,” Sandra said, her voice bubbling.

  Blake cut off the mic and handed it over to the communications officer.

  “Was that ok?” Blake asked, turning to look Cates in the eye.

  “Yeah, I think that�
�ll go a long way to calm things down. There’s already been enough rotten apples in NATO and our own government, and I don’t want the people just declaring open season on the good guys that are actually trying to help. It’d be counterproductive to everything we are trying to do here.”

  “Come on folks,” PFC Sherman said, “I have to wrap this up and put you back in your cells.”

  “They really booted Davis?” Sandra asked.

  “Yeah, they kicked your interview up the chain of command. The President was still going to keep him, until several women came forward and confirmed your story, Sandra. Then he almost attacked his assistant not a few seconds before his escorts showed up. The President had his hands tied and now he’s looking to appoint a new one.”

  “Anybody in particular?” Sandra asked.

  “No, probably another political crony. Hopefully the new guy isn’t as bad as Davis was,” Martin told them.

  “I’d like to have seen Davis’s face when he got that news!” Blake said, excited.

  “The President called Davis himself!” Martin’s voice was high pitched and Blake swore the word himself sounded like hisself.

  “So what happens now?” Sandra asked.

  “You’re still awaiting the verdict. My wife is tight lipped, and hates that I involved myself in this case.”

  “Hey, thanks,” Sandra said, pausing to give him a hug, “but you don’t work on making your wife angry. You know what they say, happy wife, happy house.”

  “True,” Blake said, taking her and starting to walk again after Sherman made an exasperated sound.

  “I’ll be back for you tomorrow. In the meantime, keep yourselves out of trouble,” Cates said, giving them a little wave and took a different corridor away from them.

  “Bye,” they both chorused and then laughed.