Children of Wrath

by Ryan King

  Reggie shrugged. "There is no way to know. Could be a hundred years, maybe ten thousand. That is not within our control. We can only do our best to survive with what we have and preserve the knowledge of our forefathers for the future. The world we knew is effectively dead, and no one in this room will ever see it again."

  The room was suddenly silent.

  "That's my last slide," said Reggie with an awkward smile.

  There was a smattering of applause from the few dozen students. The moderator stepped up from the audience. "Thank you, Mr. President. I'd like to open it up for questions and answers. Just raise your hand and Mr. Philips will point you out."

  A pretty blond on the right raised her hand. "What was it like to work with Governor Jason Henry, and do you think he might still be alive in the state capital?"

  Reggie nodded. "Governor Henry was not only a great governor, but a good friend of mine. As many of you know, he and I were college roommates many years ago, and I likely would have never entered politics except at his urging. He is one of the genuinely best men I've ever met. As far as his still being alive, anything is possible, but we just don't know. Frankfort wasn't hit by any nukes, and we've considered going to look at the capital, but nothing indicates there is still a functioning government there. With that said, I hope he's still alive. Next question please."

  A large athletic black man stood next. "Although the JP has agreed to incorporate the Bill of Rights into its working constitution, what do you say to those who believe this is a sham? After all, you were part of Tim Reynolds’ last broadcast."

  Reggie looked to the moderator for help, who stood and moved to the front. "Let's please keep the questions to the presentation please," he said while looking at the two state troopers who sat in the back of the room.

  A tall thin older gentleman stood next. "Yes, my question Mr. President is, do you eat? That is, would you be willing to have lunch with me and my friends?"

  Reggie smiled. "Good to see you, Clarence. General Clarence Anderson, everyone." He now saw that Harold Buchannan and Butch Matthews were also sitting nearby. "Oh my, if I had known all these VIPs were in the audience, I would have had the decency to be more nervous. And to answer your question, yes."

  Reggie talked and mingled with the students for another half hour before walking out of the auditorium over to the Campus Diner. Clarence, Butch, and Harold already had a booth. He shook hands with them all and slid in beside them.

  "This is quite a surprise," said Reggie. "I had no idea you were coming."

  "Butch spread the word," Harold said. "How could we not come see your debut scholarly presentation?"

  "It might be my last talk," said Reggie. "Did you see the way those troopers watched everything and took notes?"

  "Yeah," said Clarence. "That's one of the reasons we wanted to meet. You already know about the arrest of Tim Reynolds and the exile of Nathan Taylor, but have you heard about the proposed plan to unite the JP and the WTR?"

  "I have," said Reggie, "but I don't know enough about the situation to really make an informed decision."

  "There's something you probably don't know," said Harold. "Nathan was exiled because of something he was investigating. Something he was pretty sure of."

  "What?" asked Reggie. "What could be that bad?"

  "President Paul Campbell is working for someone in the WTR," said Butch. "Nathan thought it might even be President Ethan Schweitzer."

  "Ethan?" said Reggie. "But he's not a strong arm and General Sampson is gone. Must be someone else. Besides, what would Paul gain by such a thing?"

  "Nathan thought that they had his son," said Harold, "but he couldn't prove it."

  "And he believed that Ethan might even be Gabriel," said Butch. "The man who sent that assassin to kill you and instead got Janice."

  "No need to remind me," said Reggie.

  "The point is," said Clarence, "that something isn't right in the JP. Everything we worked so hard to build is potentially falling apart. I don't know if you see it, but we're pretty close to undeclared martial law right now."

  "And there's not enough food set aside for the winter," said Harold. "We've been stockpiling on the side, but if the JP found out, it would make for some awkward moments."

  "So," said Reggie, "what do you think should be done? Harold, you're a county executive. Can't you go talk to Paul?"

  "I've tried," said Harold. "He's totally isolated. That guard of his, which Nathan thought was a WTR plant by the way, won't let anyone by."

  "How about the other council members?" asked Reggie.

  "They're afraid," said Butch. "They see what's going on and how the troopers are watching everyone."

  "If Nathan was right," said Clarence, "and Paul Campbell is simply Ethan Schweitzer's puppet, we can't let the WTR unite with us because that will make Ethan the vice president. Which will, for all intents and purposes, make him the president."

  "We should call for a recall vote," said Reggie. "It hasn't been but six months since the election. We could do that."

  "Would the JP even allow it?" asked Clarence. "Nothing to do with the government is really written down yet or agreed upon. Everything is run right now by precedence and expediency. Campbell might ban the recall election in the name of national security."

  "If he does," said Reggie, "then he will have lost. He'll look weak and scared."

  "How do we even go about something like that?" asked Clarence.

  Reggie nodded. "There's no precedence for a federal recall, but most states allowed recalls if one third of the registered voters asked for one. Not sure how we would go about that, but that seems like a good place to start. I could talk to some old friends and get the ball rolling."

  "I don't think it's a good idea for you to do that," said Clarence. "Nor for either of you." He pointed at Butch and Harold.

  "Why not?" asked Reggie.

  "Well," answered Clarence, "you're the candidate who just got defeated in the last election. It would be too easy for Campbell to discredit you over being a sore loser. People would lose focus on the real issues. Butch and Harold are either part of, or connected closely to, the current administration. I think them doing anything like this would come across as disloyal and again lose focus."

  "Who then?" asked Harold.

  Clarence smiled broadly.

  "Really?" asked Reggie.

  "Why not?" said Clarence. "I'm retired. Well known. And have nothing to lose. They can threaten your families or intimidate them, but not me."

  "They could imprison you, like they just did Tim Reynolds," said Reggie.

  Clarence smiled. "That would be a win for us as long as we could publicize it. Show everyone how shaky the current government is."

  Everyone looked at each other and nodded.

  "Okay then," said Reggie. "I guess we're all in agreement. I gather that you want the rest of us to stay out of this?"

  "If you don't mind," said Clarence. "It will make it simpler and avoid painting any of you with further suspicion."

  "I think Nathan was onto something though," said Butch.

  "What was that?" asked Harold.

  "He told Bethany if things started to go bad to get to the Land Between the Lakes Park. He said it would be safer there. More secure. Close to the electricity and people you can trust."

  "You'd all be welcome there," said Harold.

  "Excellent," said Clarence, rubbing his hands together. "Off I go to battle again."

  Chapter 16 - God's Sign

  Jacob Daniels frantically rode his bicycle toward the checkpoint. He had no idea if those JP soldiers had gotten a good look at his face, but knew they were likely coming into the LBL the same route he was. If they caught him, it would all be over. He'd be hung for sure.

  He contemplated running. The bicycle could carry him anywhere. Jacob had supplies and his sword. Most importantly, he wasn't afraid.

  "I am a Knight of the Apocalypse," he huffed while climbing up a hill. "I will not fear."

/>   Seeing the checkpoint on the east side of the bridge, he slowed and tried to look casual. The men there knew him well and didn't ask to see his papers; they simply waved him forward with a smile.

  His mind racing, he picked up the pace again. Should he destroy his clothes? Change his appearance somehow? Would that draw attention rather than diminish it?

  Jacob pulled up at the main camp. It was important that he act normal. He slowed and then jumped off the bicycle and walked it over to the collection point.

  "Good pickings today?" Zeke asked.

  Jacob forced a smile. "Not bad." He carefully picked out the two dozen or so spark plugs he had been able to pull from cars around Cadiz.

  "Not bad," said the collection manager with a tilt of his head.

  Reaching into his pack, Jacob next placed a small yet heavy hammer the boy had tried to use against him, but the sword had too great a reach for this small tool to be effective.

  "Oh, very good," he said. "We've been needing a short-handled heavy hammer around here. Normal hammers take forever, and the big sledges are likely as not to crush your hand. That it?"

  "I think I got something else," said Jacob. His hand seemed to get tangled up in a web. He pulled it out, and it was wrapped in a thin necklace with charms all around. It was still covered in the girl's blood.

  "Nice," said Zeke. "That looks like one of the charm necklaces my little girls wear. You don't bring in things like that too often, but the store here needs 'em for people to buy gifts and such." He looked at Jacob expectantly.

  Jacob ignored him, trying to slip the necklace off of his hand and back into the bag without bringing it fully out into the open.

  "Ah, they're back a little early," said Zeke, looking over Jacob's shoulder.

  Jacob's head darted up and his heart stopped. The mettlesome David Taylor and his band of misfits were riding into the main camp area. He quickly turned his head away and kept digging.

  "I gotta tell you, Uriel," said Zeke. "I'm really impressed by what you do."

  "What's that?" asked Jacob, finally getting his hands around what it was he was looking for.

  "Going out there. We all know how dangerous it is, what with all the stories of the Eye Snatcher, course I guess you're not as attractive a target to him now." Zeke laughed at his own joke, pointing at Jacob's empty eye socket and then clapped his hand over his mouth when he saw Jacob wasn't amused.

  Jacob sat the half empty container of coco on the table in front of him.

  "Wow," said the collection manager. "This will be nice when the weather turns cold. Haven't seen any coffee, have you?"

  "No," answered Jacob. He glanced to his left and saw the men dispersing. They didn't appear to be searching for anyone, but several were coming his way. "But I'll keep an eye out."

  "Keep an eye out," laughed Zeke. "That's a good one!" He chuckled and again seeing that Jacob was not amused, his face dropped and he turned red. "Anyway...."

  Jacob just stared at him before turning to walk away. He wanted to get some distance from the men. It had been dark in the theater and he didn't think they had seen him, but he didn't want to take chance.

  Cujo's deep barking caused Jacob to whirl defensively, but someone had tied the dog to a tree. The shepherd strained at Jacob from across the clearing, slobber dripping from his mouth. It was as if all God's creatures were against him.

  God will protect me, he thought. I do His will. I am His fire. His vengeance.

  Jacob slowed. But had he been doing God's will? He knew his purpose was to destroy Harold Buchannan, yet Jacob had done nothing to further that goal except make it to the LBL.

  "I haven't had an opportunity," Jacob said defensively and then froze in his tracks.

  He saw Harold Buchannan get out of a small sport utility vehicle and walk into the large cabin that served as the executive's residence and office. Harold opened the front door, but when it swung shut, it didn't latch, swinging back open a few inches.

  Jacob was stunned. God was obviously telling him the time was now. No more delays. No more scavenging. No more wasting his talents on others. It was time for him to fulfill his destiny.

  He walked purposefully toward the cabin, no longer hearing Cujo's incessant barking. Jacob reached back over his shoulder to make sure his sword was in place.

  So engrossed in his mission, Jacob did not see the big man on the other side of the clearing stop in his tracks as he stared at Jacob.

  The man took off at a jog toward Uriel.

  Chapter 17 - Plan of Attack

  It was difficult to see the rude map on the table in the dim light. Funny how quickly we come to take electricity for granted, thought Beau. He made himself focus on what was being said; after all, this was his mission.

  "The camp is right here," said Billy. "There are maybe a thousand people or more there."

  "A thousand?" said First Sergeant Clemens.

  Billy held up his hand. "Only a few hundred of them are soldiers. The rest looked to be civilians. Workers and maybe family members."

  "Noncombatants," Beau said to emphasis the point, remembering the Battle of Fulton and how things had gotten out of hand.

  "Right," said Billy, pointing to his sketch to the right of the map. "The camp looks like this." His hand moved to show the kidney-shaped outline of the perimeter. "There's a big house in the middle where we think Vincent Lacert and his chief subordinates live. All the military is to the left of this"—he indicated the top half of the kidney bean—"and all the civilians are billeted in the other half. There are guards and such down with the civilians, but not many at night. During the day, they are all out in the fields or working at the salt mines to the west."

  "Any tank traps or barriers?" asked First Sergeant Clemens.

  Billy shook his head. "Not even a decent perimeter. They have a few dug-in positions, but it's mostly a small fence line that I think was the original barrier of the farm they took over."

  "Any heavy weapons?" Beau asked. "Any tanks or armored personnel carriers or artillery?"

  "Not that we saw," Billy said, "but there could have seen some mortar tubes under a tarp near the house. We just couldn't tell. They have lots of Humvees, and many of those have medium machine guns on them and even a few have the MK-19 automatic grenade launchers."

  "Oh, I hate those," said a voice in the back.

  "Any trouble with the roads there?" asked Beau. "Any weak bridges or washed out roads?"

  Billy shook his head. "No, it's all good, although I would stay away from these areas." His finger indicated the space around the lower part of the kidney bean. "These are fields they've just harvested and the ground is really soft there."

  "Anything else?" Beau asked.

  Billy nodded. "Yeah, we saw a couple of our captured recon guys. They were dressed in MA uniforms."

  There were light murmurs from the small crowd.

  "Is that all?" asked Beau.

  "Yes, sir. Oh, one more thing. Although there are only a few hundred soldiers in the camp, I think there's more, just not here. Trucks come and go all the time. This might not be their only camp."

  "Okay, folks," said Beau, nodding. "Tell me what you think."

  Captain Andrews who had finally arrived with a company of infantry spoke up. "Sir, we have the element of surprise on our side. We may be outnumbered, but that will count for something."

  "Do we really have enough info to act?" asked First Sergeant Clemens. "There could be more camps out there. Set ourselves up for counterattack in enemy territory."

  "Not if we hit them fast and hard," said Billy, "then get out again."

  "What about the civilians?" asked Beau.

  Billy sighed. "Sir, there's just too damn many of them for us to bring back with us, and we already know the JP has enough refugees. The best thing we can do for them is to free them. Let those people find their own way. Might just want to go home anyway."

  "Anyone else?" Beau asked. When no one said anything, he stared at the map for a few
minutes. A plan had already been forming in his mind, but he wanted to go over it in his head before saying it out loud. "Gather round," he said. "Billy?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "We still have a few civilian vehicles with fuel in them, don't we?"

  "Sure."

  "Okay, I want you and you recon teams to go ahead of us," Beau explained. "You'll stop the vehicles a few miles away and under no circumstances let anyone see you."

  "They won't, sir," said a recon man from the back.

  "Then your men will take up a position here." Beau indicated a curved line around the top part of the bean. "You'll be a blocking force. When we hit them, all hell is going to break loose and the enemy is likely to come your way. Take out as many as you can, but once they start surrendering, let them."

  "Prisoners?" asked First Sergeant Clemens. "Sir, this is more of a raid. We don't have the manpower or the transportation for a bunch of prisoners."

  "Some of the surrendering men could be JP soldiers forced to join the MA,” said Billy.

  "We'll figure something out," said Beau. "That's not critical, but I don't want any executions like we had at Fulton. Everyone understand?"

  There were a few murmurs around the tent, but mostly everyone nodded.

  "Captain Andrews?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Beau pointed at the four Abrams tanks outside. "Can you fit your men and equipment on the outside of our tanks?"

  The captain didn't even hesitate. "We'll make it fit, sir. Any chance we get to ride instead of walk, we're not going to miss."

  "Oh, you'll get plenty of opportunity to walk," said Beau. "Just not until the last bit. You'll ride with us until you're a few miles from the objective and then we'll let you off so you can move into position to secure the southern edge of the camp."

  "Far enough so they can't hear the tanks," said Billy.

  "Right," continued Beau, "then you and your men will move to the southern portion." He indicated the bottom of the bean where the majority of the civilians resided. "When you see my tanks, and I mean the minute they come into view, I want your entire company assaulting up from the north."