299 Days: The 17th Irregulars 2d-6

by Glen Tate

  Grant made a quick mental note to get to know Al. When walk-ons came, maybe Al could be in on the “Ted project” as the Team was calling it. Al could help divert walk-ons to the Ted project’s compound.

  That would be hard to pull off. Lots of guards would see the new arrivals come, but then they would not be seen again for a while. Grant would have to think about how to do this. The first step was to get to know Al and be able to trust him.

  When the debate wound down, Al said, “By the way, speaking of valuable skills, a resident returned today. He’s Randy Greene, and he’s had a cabin out here for years. He’s a podiatrist. You know, a foot doctor.”

  The crowd murmured. As an actual resident, as opposed to a stranger, they had to let the foot doctor in. Besides, the residents liked the idea of more medical people, even if their feet didn’t hurt. Al continued, “Dr. Greene brought a truck load of gear with him, too. Now, he’s a resident so we let him in, but that’s the kind of thing I think Grant is talking about. So if Dr. Greene wasn’t a resident, but a stranger, we’d be considering letting in a person with medical skills and, as a bonus, a bunch of gear. He’d probably be the perfect type of person to welcome to Pierce Point, just for example.”

  Grant was glad to hear Randy Greene, or “Doctor Greene,” as he insisted on being called, was back. Doctor Greene’s cabin was about six cabins down the beach from Grant’s. Grant had met him when he first got his cabin. Greene was a big hunter and fisherman, so that truck load of gear Al referred to was probably full of lots of good stuff. While a podiatrist had limited medical skills, they were medical skills, nonetheless.

  For the next part of the meeting, Lisa gave a report. Grant hadn’t seen her all day. She was really warming up to her role as the community doctor and described how people were still dying from a lack of medication. Some people, like Mrs. Roth, died quickly from this. Others, who were less dependent on their medications, were dying more slowly. Now that America was over two months into the Collapse, many of these less-dependent people were starting to die.

  Lisa named four people who had died in the past few days, all from a lack of medications. She also mentioned that a teenage girl who cut her hand while filleting fish had a bad infection. They had some antibiotics for the girl, but couldn’t use too much on just one person. Finally, she described some of the lingering problems from people not having their mental illness medications. The very medicine-dependent had gone insane early on, but now the less-dependent were, too. Two people were detained and would be up for a mental ward commitment trial tomorrow.

  Grant knew that he wouldn’t be training with the Team tomorrow, at least, not until the commitment trials were done. The commitment trials were a top priority. Two people were being detained, perhaps for no reason, although if Lisa thought they needed to be committed, they almost certainly did. Another reason for Grant to miss training with the Team tomorrow was that he should probably get to know Al better. He could do that tomorrow along with the commitment trials. Training with the Team would have to wait. Grant had plenty of things to do at the Grange. He needed to accept that he wasn’t a twenty-something year old gun fighter. He had different skills and a different job.

  At the end of the meeting, Ken Dolphson handed out the latest edition of the Pierce Point Patriot. The only stories in it were the obituaries. Grant would need to go to the funerals on Sunday after church. He hated doing that. It was so depressing, but he had a leadership role out there and needed to be at community events, like funerals.

  The meeting broke up. Tired on their feet after a long day, the Team shuffled toward Mark’s black Silverado with the extended cab and Marine Corps bumper sticker that was outside waiting for them. Lisa got into the front cab. The Morrells got in the rear cab. The Team, including Grant, piled into the back of the truck.

  The guys were tired so they didn’t say much. They were excited because it was nighttime, which was girlfriend time, although they were tired. Grant quietly wondered how much more activity they could take. Oh well. It was a good problem to have.

  In the back of the truck with the largely silent guys, he had a chance to reflect on the day. It had been good and bad, like so many things out here. Good in the sense that they had an amazing crew of fighters and some great equipment and training. Lots of “coincidences” that made them much better off than almost everyone. That was good.

  But, the day showed the bad things, too. People dying and going crazy just because they lacked simple medications. Life threatening infections that would be no big deal when there were plenty of antibiotics. And refugees with nowhere to go who were forced to camp out while some people decided if they can come in. Grant could only imagine what it was like in places that weren’t as organized as Pierce Point, like Frederickson, Olympia, and Seattle. Let alone Chicago, New York, and LA.

  “Collapses suck,” Grant said. He had anticipated the Collapse and had been frustrated when it was so long in coming, but he didn’t enjoy it now that it had come.

  Chapter 177

  The “Ted Project”

  (July 8)

  Grant and Lisa slept soundly until the sun came into their room. When they woke, they didn’t even remember getting into bed the night before after the Grange meeting. Given the angles of the windows, the sun didn’t come into the window until mid-morning this time of year. Grant noticed this and realized it must be late, like 8:00 a.m. or something crazy like that.

  It was 8:16 a.m., to be exact. He knew Lisa needed to get up to go to the clinic so he woke her up by hugging her softly. She slowly woke up to him holding her, which she had always loved, but now it felt even better, more significant. She had often taken these quiet moments in bed for granted, but not anymore.

  Grant, being a typical guy with typical appetites, was getting a little charged up from the hug, which wasn’t his intention. He just wanted to wake her up and let her know how much he loved her. His lower brain functions took over and then he wanted to take the hug farther.

  That wasn’t going to happen. Grant didn’t want to blow the cool points he was getting for a no-strings-attached hug. Besides, he could hear the kids were up, and so were her parents. Not exactly a good ambiance. He decided to fight the urge and just kissed her on the forehead.

  “Good morning, dear,” Grant said. “Your husband loves you.”

  Lisa had a big smile on her face. That smile of hers meant everything to him. It was what he lived for. Grant forced himself to get out of bed before he tried to take the hug further and then went out to say good morning to the kids and Drew and Eileen. He hadn’t seen them in quite some time.

  They were starting up some pancakes, of course. Grant had purchased over 100 pounds of pancake mix before the Collapse. It seemed crazy at the time; not anymore. The Morrells and Colsons (except Tammy) were coming over. Gideon would also be there as he ended his night guard shift by coming over to Grant’s cabin and having breakfast with everyone.

  Gideon could eat at the Grange, but it was usually hard to get a ride up there and back in time to let him sleep during the day. Besides, it took him hours to get out of the Grange because everyone came up to him and thanked him for the semi-truck of food. He didn’t mind their kind words; it was just that after a night of guard duty, making small talk with people was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Chip came over for breakfast, too. He was just stopping in to say good morning before he and the Team went to the Grange. Mark would take the Team, Drew, Grant, and Lisa up to the Grange where they would eat breakfast. They usually tried to be up there around 8:00 a.m. and they were running a little behind this morning.

  “You still got gas?” Grant asked Mark, to which Chip laughed at the unintended double meaning.

  “Yep,” Mark said. “I actually don’t drive much; just taking you guys around in the morning and getting you at night. Once in a while, I go out hunting. Tammy keeps my tank full with gas from work.”

  “How is she doing?” Eileen asked. “That horrible atta
ck she suffered through. Have they caught the people who did that?”

  Mark, who had not been told what really happened, said, “Nope. They must have taken off. There’s been nothing like that around the power company. They all travel now in pairs and are well armed. Tammy insists on driving herself to work alone. I tried to talk her out of it, but she just thinks she’s OK. She seems very confident it won’t happen again.”

  They all talked about what they would be doing that day. John and Mark would be setting some crab pots when the tide got right, which was in about an hour, and then they would go deer hunting until dinner. Mary Anne and Eileen would be working in the garden and making some strawberry jam with the ripening berries. Manda and Cole would play with all the neighborhood kids. Lisa would be at the clinic all day. Chip was running the day shift of the Grange guards. He was done overseeing the Crew; they were on their own now and were integrating very nicely with the Team. Drew was keeping track of people’s contributions to the community and overseeing the meal cards. He was also compiling a secret Patriot/Loyalist list for Grant.

  As they got into the truck, Grant said his predictable “This never gets old.” There was that armed serenity feeling again; riding in the back of the truck, AR on a sling, with his guys.

  “Beats the shit out of selling insurance,” Pow added, just as predictably. That always reminded them how lucky they were to be out here doing what they were doing. It was a good mental framework to begin a day of hard, potentially dangerous, work. During the ride up to the Grange, the Team talked about their girlfriends. Time dedicated to discussing tactical preparations was non-existent. Instead, they meticulously planned who would have the rooms with a door that closed and when they would rotate. That consumed their planning energies. Grant and Chip looked at each and both sighed and smiled. They’d been young once, too.

  Mark dropped them off at the Grange and took off. They all went in and started to eat a breakfast of biscuits, deer meat, and fresh raspberries. Lots of other people from the community were there, engaged in several conversations about a variety of topics.

  Grant saw Rich and Dan talking and went up to them.

  “Good mornin’,” Dan greeted him. “I’m surprised your guys can walk after what they’ve been doing the past few nights,” he said with a smile. Word travels fast.

  “Hey, guys,” Grant said, disregarding that comment about the Team Chicks and getting down to critical business, “I need to talk to both of you about something pretty important. Don’t worry, it’s good news.” Grant wanted to put a positive spin on the topic of the Ted project. He was always amazed at how much more receptive people were when someone prefaced the topic with “this is good news.”

  “This is something,” Grant continued, “that we need to concentrate on and I’ll need your planning help. It’s top secret so we can’t talk about it just anywhere. You guys got some time?”

  “Sure,” Rich said, wondering what Grant was talking about. “How about now? We can go outside.”

  Grant would have preferred to talk to Rich and Dan over some whiskey, but he couldn’t wait until later that night for the conversation. He didn’t want them to hear about it from someone else, like the Chief, Paul, Gideon, or Chip, all of whom knew about Special Forces Ted.

  Grant nodded and walked outside, with Rich and Dan following him. They went outside, toward a corner of the gravel parking lot that was out of everyone’s earshot. It was becoming obvious that this was going to be an important discussion.

  When Rich and Dan got to the corner of the lot, Grant looked them right in the eye and grinned his biggest grin. “Well,” he said, “we have some help coming.” He paused and said, “Quite a bit, actually.”

  Rich and Dan both had an inkling of what kind of help was coming, as well as the dangers that came with it.

  “What sort of help?” Dan asked.

  “Special Forces,” Grant said, still grinning. “Patriot Special Forces will be training up a unit out here.” Grant nodded his head as if to say, “See, I told you that would be cool.”

  Rich and Dan weren’t smiling. To them, this wasn’t good at all.

  “What?” Rich said loudly. “What the hell do we need Special Forces for out here?”

  “Yeah,” Dan said, “we’re not trying to be some military unit. We’re trying to protect our people so they can survive this.” He was pissed. “I’ve seen enough combat,” he said, “I’m not looking for any more fights. I want to protect my people and get through this. Wars aren’t good survival plans.”

  Grant was surprised that Dan didn’t realize how awesome it was to have Special Forces Ted out here. But, if Dan’s focus was surviving, then Grant would tailor his arguments to address that concern.

  “Guys, winter is coming,” Grant said. “We can’t just sit around trying to survive. We need to do what it takes to reverse this whole situation. To fix things.”

  “By drawing attention to our little area?” Rich asked. Dan was nodding.

  “These guys train covertly,” Grant said. “You know how SF operates. We’ll have a secret place out here. We’ll come up with a cover. Besides, I know the lead SF guy, Ted. I’ve been friends with him for years. He trained the Team. That’s why they’re so good. We’ll get lots of trainers and equipment. They’re based…nearby,” Grant said, not wanting to give away their location in Boston Harbor. He trusted Rich and Dan with his life, but saw no need to tell people more information than they needed to know.

  Rich and Dan were still silent, thinking about the whole situation. The fact that the SF unit was led by this Ted guy that they’d heard about from the Team’s stories, and the fact that Grant had known Ted for years, was something to ponder. This meant this wasn’t some harebrained scheme with some Patriot stranger.

  Grant sensed this was the time to present his best argument.

  “You guys are Oath Keepers,” he said, looking them in the eyes. “You get why this is necessary. You’ve seen this coming for years. Don’t deny it. You knew that eventually it would come to this. This is our moment, gentlemen. We’ve been called on to do what’s necessary, just like the Founding Fathers’ generation. It’s our turn. It’s a huge honor to be given this opportunity. A huge honor.” Grant kept staring them in the eyes, waiting for that to sink in.

  Rich and Dan were still silent. They were thinking. Something like this couldn’t just be agreed upon on the fly. This was serious stuff, with many implications. And it was a game changer for Pierce Point. This would mean the Limas would be gunning for Pierce Point if the existence of the Patriot unit was discovered, as it probably would be. That meant fighting regular Lima forces, which could easily overpower the gate guards. It also meant dozens or even hundreds of well-armed strangers in their midst. Rich and Dan had heard the stories about defecting military units turning into gangs. And now Grant wanted to invite them into Pierce Point?

  Dan was the first to speak. “Grant, I hate war. I’ve been in it. I’ve seen horrible things. People’s heads blown off. Legs blown off. Ever seen a guy who gets blinded and comes running at you, screaming that he can’t see? Ever talk to his wife?”

  Grant was silent.

  “A rocket attack on the Bagram Airfield,” Dan said, staring out into the surrounding area. “Explosions everywhere. Shrapnel everywhere. You ever seen what shrapnel does to human beings?”

  More silence. Grant was unqualified to disagree.

  “You know,” Dan said, “that the other side will have rockets, mortars—God I hate mortars—and probably air cover. You know what a 500 pound aerial bomb does to a few dozen of your closest friends? Or your neighbors? Kids and all. Or what a helicopter gun ship can do? That shit ain’t fair. It ain’t the rifles and pistols we use out here, where you basically know who you’re killing. The shit they’ll have is indiscriminate and lethal. And maiming.”

  Dan straightened up his posture, as if to deliver something he didn’t want to say.

  “With all due respect, Grant,” he said, loo
king Grant straight in the eyes, “you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

  For the first time out here, Grant was scared and wondered what he had gotten himself into. He worried that he’d made a wrong decision, a huge miscalculation.

  Rich finally spoke, interrupting Grant’s worrying mind.

  “What can the Patriots do for us if we provide sanctuary, fighters, and a training facility?” Rich asked. He was thinking of this as a business transaction; not a greedy transaction, but a prudent one.

  “Protection,” Grant said quickly. He had thought of the answer to this question in advance of asking them for their blessing. “A shit load of extremely well trained and well-armed troops. It beats the crap out of anything around here. The Blue Ribbon Boys against Special Forces? Please.” He sighed.

  “Intelligence,” Grant added. “That’s another thing we’ll get. We’ll know way in advance of what’s coming into our area and across the state. We’ll be days ahead of the curve of other communities. That alone could save all of us.”

  “Oh,” Grant said with a big smile. “Supplies. Food for the fighters and equipment. We’ll be in the Patriot system. The support system. If we need resources from the wider area, we’ll have them.”

  Grant had no idea if that was true. Sometimes a leader has to do or say those sorts of things on a whim, and then has to figure out how to make the promises come true. Grant figured this was a safe promise and that Pierce Point would get supplies from being the Patriot system. Probably. Hopefully.

  “It’s the beach I’m worried about,” Rich said, switching the topic and keeping the conversation going, which was a good sign.

  “And the skies,” Dan said. “Air cover is a bitch. Grant, you need to quit thinking about this as a small-arms, police-type situation. What you’re suggesting is a full-on military situation. Bombs. Rockets, helicopters. Massive civilian deaths. Maybe even your own family.”