This time he would gather just his lieutenants, those viciously efficient men, who had been with him over the years. Together they had eliminated many elements that had stood in the way of the Society.
No matter how far up in the power structure Zackary had risen, he still loved the actual implementation of control. To crush, to control, and to subjugate was an appetite that was never satisfied. With each feeding the appetite only increased. He loved this, this was his life.
Chapter 34
JUDGE OF THE QUICK AND THE DEAD
March 22nd
The ranchers and farmers returned to their homes and I helped drive their livestock back to their fields and ranges. Before they went, they helped bury all those who had died fighting against us. The graves were unmarked and far from my little valley.
For several days I rode the range alone, cutting for tracks in the sand. I was not at ease and my heart ached. Of all the losses in my life, the loss of HayLee left the most painful hole.
It was the death of HayLee and the sadness of KayLee-K that caused the pain. It was the death of Ann Rafferty that caused the unease.
Of all the people that I had killed, the hanging of Ann Rafferty troubled me most. She was a woman. In the cowboy culture of the Bonhams, women were respected. A man was expected to fight for and defend a woman and her children. To us, that was part of being a man. Work hard, put a roof over her head, food on her table, and a fist on the jaw of any man who disrespected her.
I know that Ann would have mocked that kind of thinking, but she was dead. No man had stood to defend her. She was dead and I had no doubt that the day would come when she and I would stand before the bar of God and account for our actions. How would we fare?
On this early morning I was lost in a silent world of my own thoughts and emotions. I was riding the roan and he traveled across the ranch, choosing his own course through the sage brush and trees. At last the roan stopped of his own accord and I did not urge him on. He stood silently for a time and then turned his head to look back at me, as if to ask, “What’s troubling you?”
“I have killed a lot of people and many of them I thought were my friends,” I spoke to him. “I have a lot to work through in my heart and mind.”
The roan turned to face forward but did not move. This was as good as place as any. I swung from the saddle and dropped the reins. As the roan was good at ground tying, I did not bother to tether him to anything. The sagebrush gave way to a clearing which had a small sandstone pinnacle in it. I walked to the south side of the pinnacle and here the chill of the early morning breeze was blocked with the sun warming the rock.
Removing my hat, I knelt down in the sand.
The first man I had killed, who was he? I had never seen him before but there were things that one could know from that brief encounter. First, he was a father, like me. Second, he was trying to keep his family alive, also like me. What made us different? Were we different?
If one believed in Darwinism it was not wrong in what he did, it was simply evolution and survival of the fittest. No right no wrong, no good no evil. But I did not believe in Darwinism and I knew there was a God to whom I must give an account. So why did I kill him? I could have gotten my family safely past him.
I then thought of all my neighbors I had killed in the battle. I did not have to kill them ether. I could have obeyed their laws and let them take my ranch. Ann had promised that if we would all share and share alike we would all be okay, it being the only “fair and legal” thing to do.
That brought me to Ann. I didn’t have to hang her, did I?
Three separate types of killing I had done. The first, the father, was not a direct threat to me or my family. The second, my neighbors, were coming to kill me. The last, Ann, what had Ann done? She had not actually lifted a gun against me or my children.
Did a man have the right to take another’s life? Did anyone have the right to take my daughter’s life? What was the difference between the loss of Hay-Lee’s life and the loss of their lives?
I knelt a long time in the warm sand with thoughts and feelings coursing through my soul. Then a distant memory came to me. I had been very young but the memory was a powerful one.
It had been branding time and I was barely big enough to climb to the top rail of the corral to watch. A friend of Grandpa’s had come to help. The man was heeling calves and dragging them to the fire to be branded. One particular calf was being branded while the cowboy on the horse held the heel rope tight. As normal, the calf bawled loudly when the hot iron was put to its hide.
The calf’s mother was a descendent of the original long horns that the Bonhams had brought from Texas. She was packing a mean set of horns with black tips and took after the man running the branding iron. The man jumped on the fence and the cow spun on the horse and rider. The old cow raked the horse before the rider could get out of the way. The horse was not well broke and went to bucking and successfully threw the rider. The cow was still on the prod and as the cowboy struggled to his feet the cow gored him through the back. The cow had killed the cowboy.
I had not thought of that incident for a long time, why did it come to me now?
Was the cow wrong in killing the cowboy? Did not God put into the cow the instinct to protect her calf? Was it not her natural right? If that cow had the right to defend her life and the life of her calf surely I had the same right, did I not? It appeared to me, that right came to every living thing at birth. It was natural law. Or the laws of nature and nature’s God.
A man had the right to defend his “life, liberty and property.” If a man could defend his “life, liberty and property” then he could also help another defend their “life, liberty and property.”
The cannibalistic father had taken an innocent women’s life. I felt sadness but not guilt at taking his life.
I felt greater sadness at taking my neighbor’s lives, but again, searching my heart, no guilt feelings. They had come against my family and our “life, liberty and property.”
Ann. Was I justified in taking Ann’s life? By the government’s laws she was in the right and I was in the wrong. What about natural law? Are the laws of nature, or nature’s God, subject to man’s law?
Again, I did not believe in Darwinism. Just as God had put into that cow the right and instinct to protect what was hers, that same fire burned in my soul.
Of all the people I had killed, each had picked up a gun, except Ann. Strange, the one who caused the most death never pulled a trigger.
I searched my heart again. I was troubled because Ann was a woman but I felt no guilt.
My knees were cramping but I did not get up. Bowing by head, I spoke to God. I asked Him to forgive me if I had done wrong. I told Him I was doing the best I knew how. Then I asked Him to comfort KayLee-K’s heart. For some reason I couldn’t ask Him to take the pain from my heart. Finally, I plead that He would keep the rest of my family alive. “I’m okay if I go, God, but please let my family live.”
I stood up and in the distance I heard a lone coyote howl. The breeze blew a dark cloud across the warm sun and I felt a chill.
* * *
It had been less than three months ago that our country had been hit and it was hard to believe that so many dark days could be squeezed into that short space of time. Two great forces had collided—liberty and tyranny. Which would prevail? The victory we had in the Long Valley War gave a false sense that liberty was winning in this part of the land. I was not fooled. There was a dark wolf that would stalk us soon. A dark wolf that was more dangerous than all the men we had faced in the war. Like all wolves, he would come silently and he would come with his small deadly pack.
It was on the seventh day after I had hung Ann that Ted showed up. He came just before dinner, riding a bicycle. The person on watch had given the warning as he approached the wood gate and I stepped out onto the porch. He opened the gate and then closed it after pushing his bike through. I waited at the railing as he rode towards the house. When
he reached the steps of the porch he stopped his bike but did not get off.
“Hi, Jake.”
“Hi, Ted. What brings you up here?” I asked. There was no small talk.
“I need to tell you something Jake. Zackary Williams made it back from Page six days ago. He and his lieutenants are coming for you soon.”
The same chill I had felt before went up my back. It shouldn’t have. I knew that this day was coming.
“That’s good information. How did you find out?”
Ted shrugged his shoulders, “I’d rather not say.”
“Why tell me at all?” I asked.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the words you said. What you said to me the night you let me live. I know that had we prevailed we would not have let you live, nor any of your family. I thought about what you said when you hung Ann Rafferty. They were hard words and it was a hard thing you did. A lot of people liked Ann, including me, but the more I thought, the more it made sense. We had no right to come against you. Jake, I’m really sorry. I know that saying I’m sorry won’t bring HayLee back, but I am sorry.”
He stopped speaking for a moment then asked, “Why did you let me live? Why didn’t you hang me with Ann?”
“Ted, maybe I can help you understand why I didn’t hang you by asking you a few questions. If Ann Rafferty was alive right now, would she be here saying that she was sorry for what she had done?”
“No,” Ted answered without hesitation.
I asked the next question, “Who was the motivating voice that started the war?”
“Ann,” he replied.
“Before the war started, did I threaten her or seek her life?”
“No,” he replied again.
I asked my last question, “If Ann were still alive would she leave me alone or would she still try to have me killed?”
Ted thought a moment then answered, “She hated you even more after we lost the battle. And I know that the very day after the battle she sent for Zackary Williams. She would not have stopped.”
“You have answered your own question, Ted. Sometimes we make mistakes, sometimes we choose wrong, and sometimes people get hurt or die. There is room for forgiveness; there is room for a fresh start. But there is also something called evil. When one seeks to control another, it is evil. That evil is only stopped when it encounters a power greater than itself. I stand for freedom, Ann stood for control. You are young and you chose like a stupid kid.
“Ted, outside of my family, the dream I have held most dear is that I would one day truly breathe free air, the same air that our ancestors breathed in this land a hundred years ago. I am determined to taste that air or die gasping for it.”
Ted did not make a reply, and like that night in the canyon, I again felt sympathy for the young man.
“Maybe someday we can breathe that air together, Ted. Maybe we can be friends and neighbors once more, but I have one request to make of you.”
“What is it, Jake?”
“I ask that if, for some reason, I do not live through these days and if we once again become a free people, that you’ll taste that air for me. That you’ll cherish that freedom. That you’ll protect it and preserve it. That you’ll teach your children to honor it and love it as I do.”
“I can do that, Jake. I’ll stand with you. I’ll stand on freedom’s side of the line.”
“That’s a good man, Ted. Now head on home, I’ve got things I need to do.”
Chapter 35
RED AND BLUE
March 22nd
Life was not so dear that I was willing to bow down and kiss tyranny’s hand—to ask for permission, to ask for a morsel, to ask for free health care. I had already counted the cost and paid some of the price. Those payments rested in the silent earth of Bonham cemetery. I was willing to make the last full payment, and if I did, it would be nice if someone would gather my body off the range and lay it to rest next to them.
They were coming and I must go out to meet them. I feared Zackary Williams and his four lieutenants more than the army that had attacked us. They would come with stealth, cunning, and skill. They would come with night vision, thermal vision and comm. With their tactical communication equipment, they would work like a wolf pack, seeking to flank me, to catch me in crossfire. They were seasoned, they were experienced, and they had worked as a team a long time.
My fear was not for my own life, but it was for my family. It was for my family and my friends that had stood by me. If they cut me off, one by one they would cut off my family and friends. With us dead, they would put things back in order, their order.
For some reason I had become a lightning rod, a focal point. Or to put it in cowboy terms, a burr under their saddle. That was okay by me. Someone needed to be willing to stand up and face the lightning strikes. I was no fool and I knew that my chances of surviving their strike were small. But if I could take out Zackary Williams and maybe one more, it would give my family a small chance against the rest.
I did have some advantages. They must fight in my backyard. I knew the lay of the land like they would not. They would have topographical maps and satellite images. And Zackary knew the land a little on a personal level. But they could not know it in the great detail that I did.
I had another advantage that I hoped that they would not recognize until it had cost them. By now they surely knew that I had night optics for my rifle. From the first agent that I killed, it was seen that their night optics were a single power optic. The optic on my rifle was a six power and that gave me greater range. If I could engage them at night and be able to keep distance between us, I would have some advantage.
There was one more advantage that I would use, another sacrifice, another dear price to pay …
I must be going. If what Ted Robinson had said was true, Zackary and his men could be moving against me at any time.
Once again I withdrew my camouflage clothing from my drawer. They had been cleaned, and I dressed. If I ever lived through these days to see better, I would burn these clothes. I detested what it meant when I put them on. The only thing that felt natural was the old six-shooter which I once again buckled around my waist.
Dan had gone to catch up my horse and I could hear him returning with the roan. I had on my tactical vest with my 45 Sig Saur in the holster attached to it. This time I would also carry my tactical pack. It was a small pack that contained what I needed to stay out for three days.
It was getting dark and lamps had been lit. When I entered the great room they were all there. All of my family. There was Dan and Jill with their children, Will and Vondell. There was KayLee-K standing next to Cat and there was Sandy. Everyone was standing, no one was sitting.
We were a small family, nothing in this great scheming world. We controlled no great wealth, ran no empire, commanded no army. A simple family in a simple spot of earth, but to each other, we were everything. How could wealth or power compare to the feelings we felt for each other, and right now that feeling burned like a fire. No one spoke. Words would not have been adequate to express the feeling that flowed like a warm current between us.
I took a knee and my family followed. With difficulty, I expressed to my God my deep gratitude for allowing me to be a father to such a family. I asked that He would watch over them, and if He be willing, that they might live to raise children in a free land. I prayed that if He would grant that petition, I would ask Him for nothing more. I rose to my feet, hugged them each, and walked outside.
Sandy followed me and stood next to me as I paused at the steps. The stars were starting to appear in the night sky. I looked at Sandy’s face but the stars did not give sufficient light for me to see her eyes. I would like to see those eyes again.
She put her fingers to my cheek and in the dark she found the scar that her knife had given me. Tenderly, she traced it back and forth, as if recalling memories. Then she rose upon her toes and kissed me. It was tender, sweet, and short.
In the darkness I mounted my
horse and rode to the rim of my little valley. Riding along the rim, the first hound that I came to was Red. With reduced manpower, I had repositioned my dogs here to help assist in the guarding of the basin. When I unsnapped the chain from his collar, Red jumped around for joy with the anticipation of a hunt. Squatting upon my heels, Red came to me and I scratched his long ears.
“You’ve been a good ol’ boy, Red.” He wagged his tail enthusiastically. Red did not know that I was preparing to place him in harm’s way.
When I rode to Belle’s dog house, I did not unsnap her, nor take her chain, as I had Red’s. I did get down and scratch her ears.
“Belle, ol’ girl, watch over my family. You have a good nose, let them know when those snakes come.”
I rode to Blue’s dog house.
“Blue, ol’ boy, you’re coming with me and Red. This may be our last ride. I hate to put you boys in such a bad way but without you two I don’t have much of a chance.”
My hounds were the last of the three advantages that I had. This was hard for me. I had raised them from pups and we had many fond memories over the years of hunting. I was going to use them to help watch my blind sides, and it would probably cost them their lives.
Red and Blue fell in behind me as I turned the roan south. My enemies would come from the south. I was sure they would come up through the rim of the Bench where Kanab Creek cut an opening in the ledge. It was about twelve miles away and there was a road there that would give them access. I had considered trying an ambush there but they would be expecting it this time. I needed a different place.
From Kanab Creek, the road ran along the backside of the Bench and then dropped down into the canyon that had the cattle trucks, the cattle trucks that I had shot up. It was the same road that the valley people had used and it made a big loop behind our ranch range. There were too many deep draws and small canyons for anyone to be able to drive from that road to my little basin. If a person had a bulldozer, he could have built a road across that rough country, but we Bonhams rode horses and didn’t need a road. We also liked the increased isolation it gave us.
Only by Blood and Suffering: Regaining Lost Freedom Page 24