“Give me a clip. Now!” shouted Jon.
Jimmy set the crate down and pushed two magazines into Jon’s waiting hands. Jon slapped one of them into his assault rifle and stood, spraying a hail of gunfire into both sets of headlights; they exploded and winked out one at a time. He then trained his fire on the charging crowd. Bullets whizzed by, and shotgun blasts thudded into the wall. Jon screamed and fired wildly until the magazine was empty. He squatted next to Jimmy and banged in another magazine. “Resupply the others. They’re out of ammo. Do it!”
Jimmy looked in the glow of the firelight and could see that the Kwapik kid had abandoned both his rifle and his post. He turned his head in the other direction and saw Joe Hanson. Hanson hung draped over the wall, the rifle laying at his feet. He was dead; Jimmy was sure of it.
Brenda’s shrieking reached a crescendo, and she began to moan from the raging fire below. Jimmy looked at Jon. “Do it!” he cried. “For God’s sake, just do it! Have some mercy on her!”
Jon nodded grimly and fired a short burst into the flames below.
Brenda was silent.
Jimmy said a short prayer, and suddenly Julie was at his side. She reached down and pulled two magazines from the milk crate; her red eyes looked to be just this side of insanity. She didn’t say a word, and she scrambled toward Kwapik’s abandoned rifle at the far end of the wall.
Jon rose again and fired, this time on semiautomatic. He popped off three quick rounds, ducking for cover as bullets continued to fly overhead while others thumped into the wall. Jimmy grabbed three magazines and turned, crab-walking down the walkway toward the body of Joe Hanson. He set the magazines down and fumbled with the rifle. The stock was bloody, and Jimmy fought with the latch, his fingers slipping in the sticky wetness. He finally calmed himself and thought about what he was doing. There was a click, and as the spent magazine fell from the rifle, Jimmy slapped in a fresh one and took a deep breath. He had to get control of himself. He had to make his shots count. Jimmy poked his head over the top of the wall.
There seemed to be ladders coming at them from all sides. Bodies lay on the grass, some writhing, others still and lifeless in the firelight. Orange pops of gunfire seemed to be coming from everywhere. A bullet flew by his ear, so close that Jimmy could hear it whizzing as it passed. He ducked down again, his hands trembling. Bullets slammed into the wall in front of him. From down the walkway he could hear Jon and Julie firing.
“Shoot the damn thing!” screamed a familiar voice.
Jimmy turned and saw Patty and Ken at the base of the wall underneath him. The fear on their faces gave him the strength he needed. He stood and sprayed the lawn below with automatic gunfire. He watched in horror as his bullets ripped home, cutting down three ladder brigades in the process. Men screamed and others fled. Still more picked up where they’d left off and resumed the charge. Jimmy dropped to his knees and inserted a fresh magazine.
Jimmy could hear gunfire clatter all around the compound. The attack had been planned well, and they were coming at them from all sides. Jimmy stood again and rained bullets down on the charging men. Two ladders stood at the wall, and men were climbing them, hunting rifles slung over their shoulders. Jimmy trained his fire in that direction and spent the rest of his magazine on those men. They fell like dominoes. Jon popped shot after shot into the crowd, and Julie did the same from beyond him. Jimmy ducked and sent home his only remaining magazine. He switched the lever to the semiautomatic position and said a quick prayer. He then stood and began to fire.
“They’re inside the wall!” someone shrieked from below. “They’re heading for the gate!”
Jimmy turned and saw Ken leveling a shotgun into the blackness. A bullet tore at Jimmy’s sleeve, and he turned back, knowing that there was nothing he could do for Ken. He fired blindly into the screaming men below. Jimmy heard a blast from Ken’s shotgun, followed by another.
The attack lasted another ten seconds. Jimmy continued to fire as the ragged group began to retreat. He could smell cooking meat, and it nauseated him. There were more gunshots behind him, and Jimmy turned to see what was happening. Ken and Patty were gone. Jimmy leapt to the ground, hanging on to his rifle with both hands. He ran toward the gate.
“Some of them are inside,” Pete Donnelly said in a wheeze. “I’m hit. Got one in the stomach… Oh, shit. Don’t let them open the gate!”
Jimmy looked up to Jon who had quit firing and was staring down the walkway where Julie had been. Jimmy followed his gaze and saw Julie in the darkness. She lay crumpled on the walkway, one arm hanging limply over the side. Jimmy screamed.
“Behind us!” wheezed Donnelly. “They’re coming straight for us!”
Jimmy turned just in time to see a group of five men charging the gate from inside the perimeter. They screamed, firing wildly as they ran directly toward where Jimmy and Donnelly stood.
“I’m out of ammo!” cried Jon from overhead. “Shoot!”
Jimmy felt the rage throbbing at his temples. He clicked the rifle to full auto and pulled the trigger. He raked the attackers with a hail of gunfire, cutting one of them nearly in half. Satisfied, he turned to Donnelly who stood holding his stomach, petrified with pain and fear. “Get inside!” Jimmy ordered. He then turned and sprinted up the ramp, following Jon down to where Julie lay motionless.
“Oh, no,” cried Jon. “Oh, God, no!”
Jimmy could just make out Julie’s form in the glow of the fire. He tried to look over Jon’s shoulder, but Jon blocked his attempt. “Don’t look, Jimmy,” he said. “She’s hit.”
Jimmy tore at Jon, nearly throwing him over the side. He moaned when he saw Julie. She lay on her stomach, and around her head was a pool of blood. She wasn’t moving.
And Jimmy screamed again, a primal howl that echoed across the lake and into the darkness.
Sixteen
The term New World Order refers to the conspiracy theory of an emergence of a one-world government. During the years 1946 to present day, the United States has lost its status as the largest creditor nation, and we have sunk to the point of becoming the largest debtor nation. Given the fact that we continue to ship our manufacturing jobs overseas, it would be hard to argue that our country is not leveraging itself against the working man.
Paula could see that serious trouble was brewing. The teeming throng had reached a boiling point, and she could hear men discussing plans for escape and an attack on the militia. They would do it that very night and within the hour. Her father had scavenged some venison from a few of the many skeletons that hung in the trees. They roasted the scraps over a small fire, eating them just after they’d browned.
A new group had arrived at the campground. Their arrival accelerated the talk of escape. They rode in two abreast on loud motorcycles with another group following them in a school bus. Guns drawn, they secured an area of their own. Campers gave them a wide berth, and the bikers built a roaring fire at the center of their campsite.
Stanley had hustled his people as far away from that crowd as he could. There were others there, each getting as far away from the boisterous biker gang as the thick woods allowed. Babies cried. A gunshot echoed in the distance.
There was no where to run. No place to hide.
The siege of Ely had begun, and the night air was rippling with gunfire.
Seventeen
Executive Order 10990: Allows the government to take over all modes of transportation, including the highways and seaports.
Dawn arrived slowly that morning. The sky was the color of cold steel and wind lashed at the trees. The sobbing cries from beyond the wall had diminished some. What was left of that beaten group had buried their dead with a backhoe and were attending to their many wounded. Sally had been struck down and died in the early morning hours.
A simple truce or cease fire hadn’t satisfied Jon this time. He and a few of the others had followed the ragged army over the wall and continued to fight them in a one-sided battle. He dictated the terms of their su
rrender, confiscated their weapons and gave them until noon to bury their dead and vacate the premises.
Many of their own group had been killed. Pete Donnelly had succumbed to his wounds at three that morning. The Kwapik family had been slaughtered, along with the Sandbergs. The five of them had sought refuge in the shed and had been brutally shot like fish in a barrel. Joe Hanson had died from one of the first shots of the battle. What was left of Brenda had been loaded into a wheel barrow and brought out back. Fresh graves were dug in the pale morning light, and the eight had been laid to rest next to Billy Campbell and Tom Bauer. Some others had been wounded. Glen Putnam had been grazed by a bullet in the upper arm. Rita Lopez had been hit through the wall by buckshot and had seven pellets lodged in her backside. Lyle Swenson had fallen off the wall during the battle, turning his ankle, and it had swollen like a balloon. Julie was another of this group.
They had thought she was dead. A bullet had cut a groove into the side of her head, and the concussion had left her lifeless. The wound was serious and bled for over an hour. Patty and Rita had tended to her the best they could, but she was going to need a doctor. She hadn’t regained consciousness and lay sprawled out on her couch on the front porch.
Jimmy stayed at her side, holding her hand and stroking her arm. He talked to her, trying to bring her out of her deep slumber. Her face was ashen white, her lips nearly blue. Hot tears burned down Jimmy’s cheeks. He sat there for hours as night turned into day, waiting for a miracle. He didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but he’d mercifully nodded off and didn’t wake up until Ken tapped his shoulder.
“Jimmy,” Ken whispered from his wheelchair. “Wake up.”
Jimmy’s eyes popped open, and he could smell breakfast being prepared in the kitchen. He looked to Julie who hadn’t moved. He reached over and stroked her pale cheek.
“Come on, you’ve got to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” replied Jimmy. “You go ahead.”
“I’ve already eaten. You need to get something in your stomach, Kid. You and Jon have got a long walk in front of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess I should’ve asked you first,” Ken said, rubbing his tired eyes. “We need someone to go into Ely and get Doc Benson. Your name came up. Would you do it?”
Jimmy stood up, ready to leave at that very instant. “You know it,” he said. “Is Jon ready?”
“He’s sleeping. He said to wake him after you’ve finished breakfast and we’ll get the two of you supplied. You should probably take a quick shower. How does that sound?”
“Great,” Jimmy said. “But, why don’t we just drive? We could be there in fifteen minutes.”
“The road is too dangerous. We can’t risk losing the two of you. This little gal here needs you to come back safely. The three of you saved our bacon last night. We’d all be dead if it weren’t for your efforts,” Ken said with an unsteady voice.
Jimmy leaned over and gently kissed Julie on her bandaged forehead. He then turned and followed Ken who was wheeling through the French doors toward the kitchen.
Cindy ran to him as he entered the living room. She put her arms around Jimmy and squeezed with all of her strength. “How is she?” Cindy asked, with red eyes and swollen cheeks.
“I don’t know,” said Jimmy truthfully. “Jon and I are going to go into town to bring back a doctor. I need you to look after her while I’m gone. Can you do that for me?”
“I will, Jimmy, I will,” said Cindy, squeezing him with renewed strength. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Promise me that you’ll come back.”
“I promise,” Jimmy said, returning the bear hug. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Patty and Rita buzzed around the kitchen like flies. They sat Jimmy at the table, filled his special cup with steaming coffee and laid out the best breakfast he’d eaten in weeks. He hadn’t felt hungry, but his mouth watered at the site of it. He ate hungrily, the women doting over him as if he were royalty. When he’d finished, the plate was nearly clean. He pushed himself away from the table and kissed each woman on the cheek. “Thank you,” he said. “That was excellent.”
He then went outside and lit up a cigarette, smoking it while he rifled his tent for some clean clothes. He went inside and took a hot shower which further revived him. He shaved, brushed his teeth and quickly dressed in blue jeans and his last clean shirt. He exited the bathroom, ready to take on the day. Jon was waiting for him at the table, politely refusing seconds on his breakfast.
“Ready?” asked Jimmy.
“Ready,” replied Jon, taking a final gulp of coffee.
The compound was quiet except for the sound of the wind in the trees. The sky was a dull gray and the air was cool. Jimmy’s watch told him it was just after ten. They walked around the side of the house, stepping over spent shell casings. The two of them met Ken down at the open garage door. Patty, Rita, and Cindy followed.
“Take these,” Ken said, handing each an M-16. “I put the straps on them, but you’ll have to adjust them yourselves. There are six fresh magazines inside each of the backpacks. The women packed some food, medical supplies, and some camping gear. You never know. That should be enough to get you there and back. Listen up. The doctor you need to talk to is Ted Benson. He’s an old friend of mine, and he’s the one who took care of me when I was laid up there. He owes me a favor. Don’t forget to tell him that. I’m calling in my marker. Don’t worry, he’ll understand.”
“And he’ll be at the hospital?” asked Jimmy.
“He was when I left,” Ken said, staring off into the distance. “But that was days ago, and it’s anyone’s guess what’s gone on since then. For all I know he could be in Canada by now. You’ll know him when you see him. Great big fella… looks more like a lumberjack than a doctor.”
“We’ll find him,” said Jon.
“I pray you do,” said Patty. “We’ve got a lot of people counting on you. We don’t need to tell you that.”
“Especially me,” quipped Rita, with a wicked grin. “I won’t be able to sit down until you get back!”
They all laughed at that. Jon and Jimmy strapped on their heavy backpacks and hefted their rifles. Cindy hugged Jimmy one final time which brought on an entire wave of hugs. Ken shook both of their hands, his grip firm. “Good luck,” he said. “And God speed.”
The women waited at the gate. They shouldered the heavy log and carefully leaned it against the wall. They then pulled open one side of the gate.
And there stood the Peterson clan, Carl standing at the back.
“Jimmy!” cried Paula, and she rushed into his arms.
Jimmy’s knees buckled.
Eighteen
People talk about the annual federal deficit, but they seldom speak of total outstanding federal obligations. This is borrowed money that our creditors expect to be repaid. This number and our government’s ability to cover these loans is in serious question.
Jimmy couldn’t believe his eyes, yet here they were. He hugged Paula. The group looked ragged and tired. Their clothes were soiled, and their faces were dirty. Carl had managed to keep himself cleaner than the rest of the group. His black hair, while oily, was impeccably combed, and his face looked to have been freshly scrubbed. Stanley and Mary Peterson looked on the brink of exhaustion. They looked absolutely foreign to Jimmy, who had never seen them outside of what he considered to be formal wear.
“These are the Petersons, Paula’s parents,” said Jimmy, still in a state of shock. “Stan and Mary.”
“I’m Carl LeBeau,” said Carl, reaching a hand out to Jon. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yes,” said Jimmy. “And that’s Carl. How did you get here? How long have you been waiting at the wall?”
“Jimmy,” scolded Patty. “There will be plenty of time for that. Let’s get them inside and get them fed. We can talk later.”
“Sure,” said Jimmy, turning to Jon. “Do we have fifteen minutes?”
“I don’t think fifteen minutes will hurt,” Jon said.
“What do you mean?” asked Paula.
“I’ll tell you later,” said Jimmy, wondering how he could explain everything in such a short amount of time. He and Jon set down their packs, closed the gate and replaced the timber into the lock. Paula latched back onto Jimmy’s side as soon as he’d finished.
“Come on,” said Ken. “You’re all welcome to stay with us. Let’s get you fed and find you some fresh clothes. It looks like you need them.”
“Thank you,” said Mary Peterson. “Thank you, so much,” she repeated. She then began to weep, nearly falling over. Stanley held her up, and they followed the group up the lawn.
Fifteen minutes turned into nearly an hour. Once inside the house, Paula went straight into the bathroom. She showered, and Patty found her a fresh change of clothes in Jill Sandberg’s duffel bag. The two were very close to the same size and Patty, being practical, saw nothing wrong with giving Paula the entire wardrobe. The transformation was unbelievable. Paula emerged from the bathroom looking like her old self.
Paula and Jimmy sat in the back yard, Paula tearing into her breakfast with unusual abandon. Jimmy spoke as she ate. He told her many of the previous and left out many others. He mentioned that a woman was wounded on the porch, omitting her name. Paula would recognize it instantly. She had been extremely jealous of Jimmy’s prior relationships, especially the one with Julie Hartman. She’d even insisted that he throw away all of the old pictures he’d held onto.
No, Paula would find out about Julie after he’d gone.
Paula told Jimmy of how they’d fled the cities, barely escaping with their lives. She relived the horrors of riding in the back of the military truck all the way to Duluth and their long, treacherous journey to Bear Lake Campground where she was certain they’d all be killed. She even told him the story of the moldy bread and how grateful she’d been to eat it. She then went on to tell him about their journey out of the campground. Jimmy asked her if the militia had been defeated, but they had escaped the campground under the cover of night. Paula had no idea of who had won the battle.
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