2041 The Peoples' United States

by T W Powell

  St. James Place

  Drs. Ho & Yen Pham met Beth at the Fountain in St. James place exactly at 9 p.m. As customary, Jo was a few minutes late. One of the habits that contributed to Jo’s longevity was her meticulous attention to detail. Jo had surveyed the Fountain from a block away 15 minutes earlier, then checked things out again once the Phams and Beth arrived.

  Like Delvin Smith, Jo had been implanted with an RFID chip and was a Member of The Collective. Both Delvin and Jo used this to their advantage. Their RFID chips had been removed and replaced with a deactivated chip, a fake chip. Upon casual inspection, everything would appear to be in order. Jo carried the real chip with her and could deftly palm that chip for identification purposes, or to make transactions using her Peoples’ Credits. She could also leave that real chip with her Peoples’ Phone at a location of her choosing and travel without risk of being tracked or having her communications monitored.

  St. James Place was a short avenue just south of Central Park. St. James Place and Belgravia Court were the heart of Louisville’s Arts District and the Fountain was the focal point. The Victorian homes in this enclave were the largest and most ornate in all Old Louisville.

  When Jo was satisfied that everything was OK, she approached the Fountain, “Good evening Patriots. I sure as hell won’t call you Members.”

  The Patriots responded, “Good evening Jo.”

  Beth then piped up, “Jo, I have to tell you what happened today.”

  “OK, Sweet Pea, what happened?”

  “Natasha has proof that Yasmin is a Christian and will denounce the whole family when she thinks the time is right.”

  Both of the Phams gasped, “Will Yasmin be OK tomorrow?”

  “I think so. I convinced Tasha to gather more evidence and bide her time.”

  “Good work, Sweet Pea. Did she buy your cover story for your upcoming trip?”

  “Yes. Doc Pham and I concocted that story today. Natasha thinks I’m going to be traveling on a tow boat vacation with my new boyfriend.”

  “Great. You three follow your itinerary. When you arrive in the Bay Area, you will be approached by a slick Black guy named Delvin Smith. Delvin is fortyish and smooth. He is handling the logistics for The Collective’s vaccine program.

  Ask him, ‘How’s Miss Daisy?’ He should reply, ‘As ornery as ever.” If he doesn’t, kill him. He’s not Delvin.”

  Jo then reassured the Phams and Beth, “Don’t worry about Natasha, I’ve got that covered.”

  Beth cried as she asked, “What does that mean?”

  Jo responded, “Beth, you already know. Keep your head in the game.”

  Home at Last

  Tom Jackson arrived home just before dark. He liked what he saw.

  “Dad, you’ve done a great job getting things ready down here.”

  “Son, we think we were visited by that Apache last night. The boys really helped out. I’m very proud of my grandsons.”

  “I do have a couple of pretty good boys, if I say so myself. By the end of this, they’ll be men.”

  Tom pulled an apple from his saddle bag, “I’ll be down to the house after I tell Miss Daisy that I’m home.”

  At the supper table Tom filled everyone in on the Kingston situation. He also discussed the pandemic situation, “We don’t know what’s going on, but we have to be prepared. Gabby, you’re in charge of all things medical here at the ranch. Starting now, we assume there is a plague out there. Comprende?”

  “Si, Senor Tom.”

  “Dad, check out all the tack and examine every shoe, those horses and Daisy need to be ready to move on a moment’s notice.”

  “Consider it done, Tom.”

  “How’s your marksmanship, Dad?”

  Still pretty good, but Adam might just be a tad better.”

  “He’s that good?”

  “Maybe even better.”

  “Start training him how to shoot men. Teach him everything. From now on, you and Adam are our sniper team. Time to break out that M-40 sniper rifle.”

  Grandpa John learned to shoot men during Operation Iraqi Freedom. He was a Marine Scout Sniper. There’s a big difference between being a good shot and being a good sniper.

  Tom spoke frankly, “Carlos and Gabby let’s lay all our cards on the table. I know you two lost everything at Round Mountain. You can’t take that with you where we are going, do you understand?”

  Carlos wiped the tears from his eyes, “We understand.”

  Gabby was more emotional, “I hate those Bastardos.”

  Tom laid his hand on her shoulder, “I do too. But now’s the time for clear thinking. Si?”

  “Si, Mr. Tom. We will beat them first.”

  “Yes, we will beat them.”

  “Dad, I’m heading back to Kingston tomorrow. It’ll just be me and Little Sorrel. We should make good time. Until I return, you are in charge. Watch your southern flank. We know they are in Carver’s. Whatever you do, don’t try to fight that Apache.”

  The Visit

  Bobby Ray and Junior were cycling west on I-265 early the next morning. Pre-Revolution, I-265 was known as the Gene Snyder Expressway, named in honor of an 11 term Republican Congressman. Now it was known by some crazy leftwing political name just like every other piece of infrastructure in the PUS.

  It took the pair about an hour to reach US 31W, which was formerly known as Dixie Highway. Needless to say, once in power, The Collective immediately renamed that highway. Junior took the northbound ramp onto US 31W, always trying to stay close to a pack of other cyclists. They continued north on US 31W for another half hour.

  As they neared the I-264 interchange, Junior stopped his bicycle and gazed over at a construction site on the other side of the highway. A steady procession of dump trucks was moving in and out of the site. Like an automaton, Junior walked straight through six lanes of moving traffic and up to the chain link fence surrounding the site. The fence was 8 ft. tall and had those plastic privacy slats interwoven into the chain link. Junior found a gap in the privacy slats and just stood there staring into the site for several minutes. His erratic behavior was beginning to draw some attention from passer byes.

  Bobby Ray dodged traffic and finally caught up, “Junior, people are watching you! Snap out of it.”

  Junior just stood there repeating, “Pops, Pop-Pop” at an ever-increasing volume.

  Then Bobby Ray peered into the site. He saw earth moving equipment digging holes in the ground and pulling things out. Then he realized what was going on. This was a cemetery.

  The Collective had recently mandated the elimination of cemeteries. Cemeteries honored and memorialized the individual. Cemeteries were also sacred places that invoked religious beliefs. Cemeteries took up valuable real estate. Cemeteries did not serve The Collective.

  Meanwhile, Junior was still frozen at the fence as more Members gathered around him.

  Then, Bobby Ray felt a hand on his shoulder.

  A woman’s voice softly spoke to him, “OK White boy. If you want to live, help me get your big Black friend out of here.”

  Bobby Ray glanced back over his shoulder and saw a middle-aged, dark haired, White woman.

  The woman opened her poncho just enough for Bobby Ray to see the .45 caliber nickel plated automatic tucked into her waistband, “You’ve got about ten seconds before I shoot you and your friend and denounce you both to the crowd. I suggest you help me pull Junior away from that fence.”

  Bobby Ray nodded and helped the woman pull Junior down off the fence.

  Jo turned toward the crowd, “Members, stand back, this man has epilepsy, give us some room, He could have a seizure or get violent.”

  The small crowd backed off and began to disperse.

  Jo continued her charade, “Thank you, Members. The Collective thanks you.”

  Junior heard that familiar voice, “Jo, is that you?”

  Jo answered Junior with a whisper, “You big, stupid, Black son-of-a-bitch. Start twitching your body and gurglin
g. We’ll lead you where we need to go.”

  Junior immediately obeyed and began his performance as the threesome walked about a city block to a partially vacant shopping center. By then, the crowd was gone. They ducked into a breezeway between two vacant storefronts where they could talk.

  “Darius, you better start talking fast. What was that shit you pulled back there?” Jo wanted answers now!”

  “Pops and Pop-Pop were resting there.” Junior was pointing toward the cemetery.

  Jo almost showed some empathy, “You didn’t know. How could you know? Our friendly Members recently decided to eliminate cemeteries. They started working on this one when the weather broke last month.”

  Junior was now coming to himself, “Jo, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet tonight.”

  “I’ve been tailing you ever since I saw you with this White kid at the dead drop this morning, and good thing I did. Now, who is this White boy?”

  “Ma’am, I’m Bobby Ray Skipper from Macon, Georgia. Darius and I met on the Mountain Parkway over by Winchester.”

  “Skipper? What kind of fool name is Skipper? And only a redneck would be named Bobby Ray.”

  Bobby Ray remembered Junior’s words of advice concerning Jo, “I am pleased to meet you too, Ms. Jo.”

  Junior had tears in his eyes, “Bobby Ray, they’re gone. Pops and Pop-Pop are gone.”

  Jo confronted Junior with the truth, “Darius, listen to me. Your family is gone. Anyone even remotely related to you has been denounced. Your old friends, denounced. There’s nothing left for you here. There’s a safe house a couple of blocks from here. You can clean up, have a good meal, and get some rest. Then we can talk.”

  Emotionally, Junior had hit rock bottom.

  The Morning After

  Jo allowed Bobby Ray and Junior to sleep in the next morning. They needed the rest. She finally roused them at a quarter of eight, “Rise and shine ladies…”

  Junior felt like a new man physically. He had shaved and showered the night before after a hearty supper of beans and biscuits. Emotionally he was a wreck. All the killing, hiding, fighting, and loss had gradually taken its’ toll on the man. He just sat there silently at the kitchen table eating leftover biscuits and beans.

  “Darius, I’ve got things to do; I don’t have much time.” Jo always had things to do.

  “I think you need to get the hell out of here. You’re too hot around here and you need a change of scenery.”

  Junior just sat there, head cupped between his hands., “I ain’t got nothing left around here.”

  Junior then lifted his face and looked directly at Jo. He found no pity in her eyes, only determination.

  Jo then looked straight through Junior as only Jo could do, “Lance Corporal Johnson, there is a mission. It is an important mission. A mission that your grandfather would approve of.”

  The cloud of despair began to lift from Junior’s face, “I’m listening.”

  “Three of our Resistance operatives, a nurse and two doctors, will depart Louisville tomorrow morning heading to the Bay Area via Chicago. The two doctors are a married couple, both highly regarded within The Collective. The nurse is a rookie, but she has the confidence of the doctors. Oh yeah, all three are Christians.”

  Junior now knew he’d better get with the program, “Let’s hear it all.”

  “One more thing, the doctors’ ten-year-old daughter is tagging along.”

  Jo then outlined everything the Resistance knew about the operation.

  “What are my orders?”

  “Lance Corporal Johnson, you will make your way to the Northern Nevada town of Battle Mountain. There you will rendezvous with Corporal Thomas Jackson. From there you will travel by horseback to the Big Smoky Valley free zone. That will be your base of operations as you assist the three Resistance operatives in their efforts to gather intelligence related to The Collective’s vaccine program. You will render assistance to the local Resistance in their efforts to disrupt Collective activities and aid in the defense and expansion of the Big Smokey Valley free zone. Lieutenant Delvin Smith will be in overall command of operations.”

  “Understood.” Junior was now up out of his chair and filling his backpack with canned meat, beans, crackers, and granola bars.

  “Bobby Ray. You better fill up too.”

  Jo intervened, “Hold on Darius, you’re not taking this White kid with you.”

  “Jo, you said I have nothing left. For once, you’re wrong. I’ve got Bobby Ray. He’s my recruit, but he’s also my friend.”

  With that, Junior briefly told Jo the story of Bobby Ray, Model 1950, and Pop-Pop at the Chosin Reservoir.

  Jo was dumbfounded, “Cue in the spooky music. This is like an episode of that Twilight Zone TV show from back in the day.”

  Bobby Ray chimed in, “Jo, that’s exactly what I said.”

  “This must be my week for amateurs. OK, Skipper, you cover his back. If he gets killed, get rid of the body and, whatever you do, don’t let him get captured.”

  Bobby Ray curtly replied, “Just like MacArthur.”

  That comment flew right over Jo’s head.

  Jo handed Junior some crumpled printed pages, maps and train schedules, “Here’s the freight train schedules for Louisville to Chicago and Chicago to the Bay Area. I suggest you get your asses out to the railyard out behind the old airport and hop a freight tonight for Chicago.”

  Jo then turned to Bobby Ray, “Darius Johnson can die. RAMBRO must be alive and free.”

  Jo then left the safe house. She had things to do.

  Departure -1

  “Was it another hot night in Butchertown?” Tasha couldn’t wait to hear the details of Beth’s latest night out.

  “Oh Tasha, I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Kiss and tell my ass. You’ve got that little smile on your face. Did he bang the hell out of you?”

  “Let’s just say I’m looking forward to my trip.”

  “I bet you are.”

  “I’m going to be out of here by the time you wake up tomorrow morning. I think I’ll pack this evening.”

  “So, you’re not going out tonight?”

  “No, I’m going to come home from work, eat supper, pack, then turn in early.”

  “While you’re gone, I’ll gather more evidence on the Pham’s. I think we’re really onto something.”

  “Just don’t denounce them until we talk it over. This must be done for our maximum benefit.”

  With that, both young ladies went off to work.

  Pillow Talk

  Delvin and Alex never discussed Collective business during their private meetings.

  Just after midnight, as they lay side-by-side on the California King bed in a plush waterfront apartment, Alex departed from that protocol, “Delvin, we’ve been very close for some time now.”

  “About five years now Member Alex.”

  “Cut out that Member shit. I’m serious Delvin.”

  “Yes, the sweetest five years of my life.”

  “For me too. I want this to continue. This next project is very important for both of us.”

  “Alex, I’m told that every assignment is important. ‘Delvin get this widget to Podunk, Idaho in 12 hours or the world will end.’ Everything is always an emergency. I just chill and do my job.”

  “This is different. If we succeed, we can eliminate the Resistance and decimate those Jewish and Christian troublemakers. This will set us up. Us, Delvin. Me & you. I could end up on the Supreme Council. You would have access to the top Elites. We could end up in Peoples’ City.”

  Delvin casually replied, “I’ll do my job as always.”

  “Delvin, Honey, I know you always take care of business. You will pick up two different batches of vaccine. There are red ampoules and green ampoules. The green ampoules are for Chinese Nationals and Members with higher Social Quotients. The red ampules are for the scum with low Social Quotients. I want you to be my eyes and ears. Make sure those a
mpoules go to the right places.”

  “Alex, Sweetheart, those ampoules will go right where they belong.”

  Batten Down the Hatches

  Tom Jackson pushed Little Sorrel hard. They arrived at Kingston just before noon. What a difference a day made. The town was a beehive of activity. The utility poles had been transformed into roadblocks and strongpoints. Long runs of black high-tension wire were being coiled and transported up Kingston Creek. All roads into town had been cut. Buildings had been well camouflaged. A few women were cooking lunch over open campfires. The kids were busy toting items up Kingston Creek to the various hideouts.

  Then Tom saw the flags. Old Glory was flying from every pole in town. At first Tom was ready to explode, then he reconsidered. With the roads cut, roadblocks in place, and strongpoints clearly visible, The Collective would quickly realize that Kingston was occupied.

  Tom whispered to Little Sorrel, “It’s about time The Collective learns just who they’re fucking with.”

  Tom gave Sorrel a nudge and they headed back to the Saloon.

  “Doc Williams, things are looking good.”

  “Glad you approve, Thomas. Have you had lunch?”

  “No, but it sure smells good.”

  “Why don’t you give Sorrel a rest, get yourself some lunch, then we’ll ride up the Creek and look at some of those canyons.”

  Tom was talking with his mouthful, “Man these tortillas and black beans are outta sight.”

  “These ladies do know how to cook.”

  “When I rode into town and saw those flags my natural instinct was to take them down.”

  “Yes, that was my first reaction when they started going up. Then I thought about it and let them stay up.”

  “You did right, Doc. These people need to be reminded of why we are fighting. And our enemy needs to know who they are fighting. Keep ‘em flying but move the flagpoles away from housing and infrastructure. Now let’s ride up the creek.”

  As Tom and Doc Williams made their way up Kingston Canyon Road, they passed the well camouflaged Aid Station. There were hideouts in most canyons. A camper trailer here, a motor home there, and quite a few tents were hidden among rocks and trees. But the three narrowest canyons were reserved for the helo traps.