by D. I. Telbat
But they had to get out of sight. Joel called a warning, and Eric took Gretchen's pack as they hustled into the trees. Lena sat down and rocked back and forth, seemingly oblivious to their situation.
"Every time we stop to rest, she does that," Gretchen said. "She just rocks, and sometimes mumbles."
"Can you make it back to River Camp?" Eric asked Gretchen.
"If you want to carry me back!" She scoffed. "Remember, we took the long way here."
Eric smiled.
"Okay, we'll make camp here, then start back in the morning."
"Tell her what God did," Joel said as they weaved through the trees. "I'll never forget it as long as I live."
As they made a fireless camp a mile from the highway, Eric described the jail break, then the bridge miracle. He showed her the radio as evidence, taken without firing a shot.
"Who are you, Eric Radner?" Gretchen asked as she settled into a groove he'd dug for her on the ground. She reached out and squeezed his hand. "And who are we to be so lucky to get someone like you?"
In the morning, they hiked the remaining miles into the mountains to River Camp. As they neared the canyon, they heard a warning shout from Lookout Ridge. At least the people had remained vigilant. Hank Worcester led the procession out to receive their gear and sweep them to a campfire and hot pine tea sweetened with crushed juniper berries.
"Major Milton?" Hank asked. His eyes warily acknowledged Joel and Lena.
"Last I saw, he was on his feet and free," Eric reported, then tensed as full attention shifted to Joel. "We have lots to tell you about. This is Joel, as you know. We would've failed without him."
"I remember you, young man." Hank nodded at the bow hunter. The throng around them waited through the tension. "I hear you're a fine shot with a bow."
Joel relaxed, and Eric with him, as the newcomer was accepted. At least until Hank told Eric to watch him closely. Joel Grayport wasn't his vicious father, but his old reputation would certainly not pass quickly.
That evening, as the camp women fussed over Lena and the baby, the few men in camp sat with Eric and Andy around their fire. Eric told about their adventure into Mastover and how they'd crossed the bridge. As if on cue, Andy chose that moment to hand Eric one of the Bibles they'd brought from the cabin. The fire crackled as he read from Psalm 143. The cry of the psalmist seemed like a prayer for them all, especially since most of those around the fire weren't believers. But Eric was planting the seed, and God would grow that seed, where faith was applied.
"But why did the four guards leave the bridge?" Hank pressed, though Eric thought they'd moved on.
When Eric was about to answer, Joel cleared his throat.
"Maybe it's not for us to ask why," the bow hunter said. "Maybe we're just meant to receive what gifts we're given. As long as we're here to receive them."
Since Eric couldn't have said it better, he closed the Bible and put his arm around Andy. The night would be a clear but cold one. The coyotes were noisy, but for the camp, it was a sound that told them their enemies weren't lurking nearby.
Sitting in the firelight, Eric content with his new companions, it was hard to imagine that the rest of America was still in turmoil. The virus still plagued neighborhoods. Rogue militias rallied for control. Bandits preyed on homesteads. Families struggled for food. Strangers were suspected and avoided.
But River Camp was quiet, and Eric was thankful to be a part of its stability.
Gretchen came to their fire and sat on the log with Andy and Eric. In fact, she sat close enough to Eric to link her arm through his and found his hand.
"Want to go hunting at dawn?" she asked.
"You don't want a day to rest?"
"I don't if you don't."
"Sounds good." He smiled, then nudged Andy as he started to doze on the other side of Eric. "As long as we're back by noon. Andy and I need to build a fish trap. It seems we don't have as many fisherwomen in camp as I'd hoped."
"What would we do without you, Eric Radner?" She kissed him on his bearded cheek.
"That's the second time you've called me by my whole name." He looked at her in the firelight. "Should I be worried?"
"What? Maybe I've just taken a liking to your last name."
"Well, when you take a liking to the Person this is about," he said, passing her the Bible, "then we can talk more about the prospect of you using my last name."
She giggled, until Hank threw the rest of his tea into the fire and stalked away. His reaction to their flirting confused Eric. Hadn't the man wanted a husband for his daughter? Of course he had, Eric realized. But he didn't favor the idea of a Christian as a son-in-law. It would take time for him to realize that followers of Christ were an asset, not a deficit.
Eric stared up at the starry night a long time before he fell asleep. Andy lay on one side, and Gretchen lay on the other. Like Joel had said, it was their job to receive what God gave them. It wasn't the ideal environment in which to raise a new family, but Eric was thankful. However, life in those days was never peaceful for long. River Camp had become a refuge for many, but there was a sense that change was in the wind once again. There was almost a fear to accept the normal. The Liberation Organization was on a rampage, and Judge Zachary Grayport's forces were a day's hike to the north.
And yet, Eric fell into a peaceful sleep. God had taught him to trust Him at the river. He could trust Him with the uncertain future as well.
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Dear Reader,
Thanks for reading STEADFAST Book Two! I pray the Lord has blessed you through my writing. If you liked it, please share the link with your friends, and leave a short comment/review on Amazon. That will help me a lot. Thank you!
I've decided to give you a behind-the-scenes peek into the bad guys' mindset, so be sure to scroll to the end of the book for that bonus chapter!
Find direct links to the next novella in The Steadfast Series at ditelbat.com/steadfast-series on our website.
Happy reading!
David Telbat
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Character Sketch
Andy Adkins
The young son of Joyce, Andy was born since Pan-Day, and has been trained by his father how to carry a rifle and how to be a man in an unfriendly land. Beside his trusty dog Runner, Andy is as asset even at his young age.
Eric Radner
This man in his mid-thirties was once a blogger, traveled America, and lived a luxurious life. Now, he has run to the mountains of Wyoming to hide as the Meridia Virus sweeps the nation. With no survival skills, he must learn to stay alive in the wilderness. Though his greatest cravings are for his own safety and solitude, he knows since he's a Christian now, he must set his own desires aside to help those in need.
Gretchen Worcester
In her mid-thirties, this fiery woman has earned the nickname "Grim" for her no-nonsense attitude. When armed with her hunting rifle and skinning knife, she may be the best ally for the mountain survivors.
Hank Worcester
As a native of the town of Mastover, Hank is a fierce defender of what America once was. His mood swings and rough disposition make him a prominent resistance leader against America's newest challenges.
Joel Grayport
Once a popular student in Mastover, this native of Wyoming has taken up his bow to provide meat for his small family. If he can lose his father's reputation, he might become a welcome party to the resistance.
Joyce Adkins
As a young mother and wife, she is independent and determined to carve a life out from the rural landscape with her small family.
Judge Zachary Grayport
The tyrant who rules the town of Mastover. His dark eyes seem to dare the boldest resistance fighters to attack his town—and suffer the consequence of hanging or being burned at the stake.
Milton Pickford
As the older brother of Sheriff Leo, big Milt is protective and ornery.
Talia Wiseman
Now in her eighties, this tr
aveler from Seattle is in the fight for her life against racial prejudice and an outbreak of the virus.
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Glossary
Pan-Day
Panic destroyed and killed as many Americans as did the pandemic (the Meridia Virus) when it swept across the continent. When more cities were under quarantine than not, all banks had closed, and civil panic reached its peak—that day became known as Pan-Day. The pandemic and panic prevailed from that day on.
Lib-Org
This nickname for the Liberation Organization is the label by which the rogue military unit is known as it sweeps across Western America, in the name of freedom. They wear black and gray uniforms, and their leader is Commander Morris. Their forces number in the thousands, complete with vehicles fueled by confiscated fuel.
The Resistance
Fighting against thousands, these survivors in the woods number only three hundred fighting men, each wearing a red, white, and blue armband over their patched clothing. But in the midst of their combat against the Lib-Org, they are burdened with one hundred women, children, and wounded.
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Other Books by D.I. Telbat
Arabian Variable, a Covert Action Suspense; eBook
Called To Gobi, A Christian End Times Novel; eBook, soon in Paperback
COIL Extractions, a FREE Short Story Collection; eBook
Dark Edge: Prequel to The COIL Series; FREE eBook & Audio; also in Paperback
Dark Liaison: A Christian Suspense Novel, Book One in The COIL Series; Audio, eBook, Print
Dark Hearted, Book Two in The COIL Series; Audio, eBook, Paperback
Dark Rule, Book Three in The COIL Series; Audio, eBook, Paperback
Dark Vessel, Book Four in The COIL Series; Audio, eBook, Paperback
Dark Zeal, Book Five in The COIL Series; Audio, eBook, Paperback
Distant Boundary, Prequel to The COIL Legacy; FREE eBook
Distant Contact, Book One to The COIL Legacy; eBook
Distant Front, Book Two in The COIL Legacy; eBook
Distant Harm, Book Three in The COIL Legacy; soon to be eBook
God’s Colonel, an End Times Novel; eBook
Jaguar Dusk, a Christian Special Forces Novel; eBook
Primary Objective: A Christian Rescue Mission, Novelette; eBook
Soldier of Hope, A POW Survival Story in Afghanistan; eBook
The Legend of Okeanos: A Tale of Restoration, Survival, and a Great White Shark; eBook
The Steadfast Series: America’s Last Days; End Times Novellas
Visit Novel Update News for current and upcoming novel news
Coming Soon:
COIL Recruits for Christ: A Short Story Collection
Fury in the Storm: Where Christians Dare, Bk1; a Covert Christian Mission Suspense
Tears in the Wind: Where Christians Dare, Bk2
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About the Author
D.I. Telbat desires to honor the Lord with his life and writing. He is recognized as an author of clean, Suspenseful Fiction with a Faith Focus. Because of his love for the Persecuted Church, many of his stories are about persecuted Christians—their sacrifices, sufferings, and rescues. Weekly on his Telbat's Tablet website/blog at ditelbat.com, David Telbat offers FREE Christian adventure and suspense short stories, or related posts, which include his novel news, book reviews, Author Reflections, and challenges for today's Christian. Subscribe to receive exclusive gifts and discounts. See David's complete bio at ditelbat.com/about/.
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Contact
https://ditelbat.com/contact/
Follow us on Twitter! @DITelbat
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Steadfast Book Two
BONUS CHAPTER
*~ NEXT PAGE! ~*
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BONUS CHAPTER
Who are the Wyoming invaders? What do they want? Follow each Steadfast Book and the Bonus Chapters to discover behind-the-scenes intel on the bad guys!
STEADFAST Book Two
Bonus Chapter
Commander Kelly Morris, the leader of the Liberation Organization, watched his soldiers frolic in the icy waters of Coeur d'Alene Lake in Northern Idaho. The late spring temperatures had offered the troops a brief respite from their duties, but Morris wasn't about to join his splashing men in the cool water. He did his best to fix a smile on his face, and pretend that all was well with the liberation of America from its traditional and crippling moral fabric.
The truth was, Morris didn't feel much like celebrating spring. Defeating Great Falls and its Air Force base had taken the better part of the winter, depleting his army by twenty percent. The fighting had been fierce, but the winter conditions had also been crippling. They'd won only by starving the Montanans after surrounding them. And now, just a few miles to the west, scouts were reporting that a Spokane, Washington, resistance was preparing for an extended fight.
The factors that had led to their slowed advance westward were many, Morris considered, but he shut them out of his mind for the moment. While his men enjoyed themselves in the water, he sat on the shore and closed his eyes in meditation. Consciously, he reached deep within his soul for comfort, stability, and safety. He'd always believed the answers to his problems existed within himself, that he had the power within to overcome any obstacle. All he needed was to focus his determination, project his will, and declare positively what he truly desired.
But Morris opened his eyes after only a few minutes of inner focus. It wasn't working. Inner peace was getting harder to achieve the more his circumstances seemed to rise up against him. If he were a religious person, he would've thought there was a spiritual force opposing his success. However, Morris didn't believe there was a God—except the god within himself. Proof that he was a god, he reasoned, was seen in the amazing feat of marching across America, liberating cities from coast to coast. Nearly.
His failures of late rushed back to his mind. They were months behind in reaching Seattle, which waited for him to celebrate his cause, his vision. So, why didn't they send reinforcements? He knew the answer—mostly because they had no transportation. Seattle had struggled with bouts of the Meridia Virus for years, while Morris had taught his people to refrain from all physical contact. When Seattle citizens had sat indoors using up resources, Morris had deployed scavenger teams, in hazmat suits when necessary. He'd even started up an oil refinery in Texas that had kept their advance from completely stalling.
"Sir?" A bike messenger arrived from the barracks, which had once been the town's local college dorms. "A radio message for you."
Accepting the paper, Morris read a short typed message from his radio operators—another bad report from Wyoming. A group of prisoners meant for execution had broken out and escaped into the night. A nothing town hadn't been able to squash a local resistance. For months, the fighting in and around Mastover had disrupted his convoys, even his fuel deliveries. If a bridge wasn't being blocked, then a highway blockade was hijacking shipments of food. Traveling through Mastover had been necessary to reach the northwest command, but a man who called himself Judge Zachary Grayport hadn't suppressed the locals. Now, he blamed it all on someone who lived in the woods, someone the locals called Mad Man.
Morris remembered the rumors of the mad man when they'd rampaged swiftly through Wyoming, so he knew the judge wasn't entirely making excuses. Supposedly, there was a wild man who lived south of the highway in the thick forested mountains, who was rumored to eat people. Or he ate raw meat. Morris couldn't recall all the details, but he remembered the superstitious concern his foragers had upon hearing such news. No one had wanted to go into the woods for firewood or game when they'd camped at Mastover, establishing the town as a Lib-Org authority in the region.
Doubt suddenly plagued Morris' strategies. He'd ruthlessly executed dissenters along the way. And as towns submitted, he gave their leadership the authority to be ruthless as well. Most chose to burn the rebels at the stake, but some had reverted to hanging or even stoning, since firewood was a limite
d resource. Ropes and rocks could be reused; wood couldn't be. But regardless, they couldn't seem to wipe out their adversaries.
The more they executed, the slower the Lib-Org advanced, due to increasing problems along its supply route. Since when did smashing a problem make it grow?
"Tell Mastover I'll return to set things right," Morris told the messenger, who scribbled the note on a tablet. "It's time I traveled personally and tended to our supporters."
"What about Spokane, sir?"
"We can't move forward while our own territory isn't fully involved in these efforts. If Mastover doesn't comply, then they will suffer. That's the law."
"I'll remind them, sir." The messenger jumped on his bicycle and peddled away.
Morris watched his men shiver, but continue to roughhouse in the lake. Their lives were simple. They obeyed as good citizens should obey. They didn't need to decide how to fight or when to fight. They just fought. Morris had to decide who lived and died at their hands, but the future of America wasn't in their hands. America was his burden.
He almost felt sorry for Judge Grayport. The poor old fool really wasn't to blame for his inability to pacify his region, but he was still responsible. Morris knew it was the Christians and other independent thinkers, along with this mad man, who encouraged people to cling to old standards of morality and antiquated forms of self-government. They believed they didn't need regulation in every part of their lives, but their thinking errors were obviously disruptive to progress. The longer it took them to comply, the more severe their defeat would be.
More people needed to be executed, he decided, and he would escalate with the subtle foundation of problems within every community: the Christians. The followers of Jesus would die first. The sooner their moral projections and self-righteousness was wiped out, the better off America would be!