299 Days: The 17th Irregulars 2d-6

by Glen Tate

  Ethan looked around and sized up the situation. He was powerless. Weak. He was humiliated. He had guns pointed at him and his girlfriend was in the arms of another man. He was weak and pathetic. He could never show his face in Pierce Point again. Never. He had nothing left to lose.

  Chapter 193

  Troop Discipline

  (July 14)

  “Shoot me!” Ethan yelled out. “Go ahead! Get it over with!” Then he started crying. Like a little baby. More humiliation. Ethan wanted to leave. He wanted to get in his truck and go, but he knew he’d be shot if he went back to it, so he just stood there. Humiliated.

  Wes let Kellie go and started walking toward Ethan. Quickly. And gaining speed. In an instant, Wes was closing in on Ethan at a full run. He looked like a cougar pouncing on prey.

  Wes tackled Ethan and started punching him wherever he could. Wes felt some of the punches land. A couple went into the ground and hurt his fists, but he kept going. He was an animal. Unstoppable.

  After a few seconds, Wes felt arms pulling him up. He realized it was the Team and Crew pulling him off of Ethan.

  When he got to his feet, he realized his hands hurt and he had blood on him. Ethan was standing, too and also had blood on him. Wes wondered if the blood on Ethan was his. He checked his face. No blood there. He saw blood coming out of Ethan’s nose, however. Wes smiled. He must have landed at least one on Ethan’s face. Hopefully he broke the bastard’s nose.

  “Want some more, bitch?” Wes yelled out to Ethan.

  “Shut up,” Rich said. “Both of you shut up.”

  “Fuck you!” Ethan yelled to Wes.

  “Shut up,” Ryan said as he pulled his pistol out and pointed it directly in Ethan’s face. “Shut up,” he repeated slowly.

  “Cuff both of them,” Rich said.

  “What?” Wes yelled. Why him? He was the hero here. Ethan was the bad guy.

  “Shut up and calm down,” Rich said.

  Bobby cuffed Ethan with the plastic cable zip ties they carried. No one on the Team would cuff Wes, a fellow member, so Rich cuffed him.

  Kellie came running up and tried to hug Wes.

  “Get her out of here,” Rich said. He pointed to Kellie and motioned for someone to take her into the house where she wouldn’t spark another fight.

  Rich was in cop mode. It was his job to restore the peace.

  Rich went over to Sheila to find out what she knew. Sheila told Rich about how she thought Ethan might down their door.

  “Get Dan up here,” Rich said. He pointed to Ethan and said, “This is one of his guards.” Someone ran off to a radio.

  Grant went up to Rich and whispered, “What the hell are you doing?” He whispered because Rich was in charge and he didn’t want to contradict him.

  “Fighting isn’t allowed,” Rich said. “Troop discipline. We can’t have our guys fighting, especially over a girl.”

  Grant couldn’t believe it. Ethan was the bad guy. Wes was just defending Kellie. “Wes didn’t do anything wrong,” Grant said in a whisper.

  “Yes, he did,” Rich said. “He attacked an unarmed man.” Rich looked at Grant as if to say, “Duh.”

  Grant wanted to help one of his guys. Then it hit him. “One of his guys.” Grant was taking Wes’s side because they were both on the Team. Wes had crossed the line by attacking an unarmed man. As understandable as it was, it still crossed the line.

  “What are you going to do?” Grant asked Rich.

  “Discipline both of them,” Rich said. “A couple days in the jail.”

  “What?” Grant asked. That sounded preposterous. Jail? For Wes?

  “Yep. To be an example,” Rich said. Then he looked Grant in the eye and said, “An example that the Team doesn’t get special breaks.”

  Grant bristled at this. The Team was doing more than anyone else there. They were risking their lives all the time, raiding houses when the guards just stood there and BS’ed. The Team guys were the only actual badass gun fighters in this whole place.

  Then it hit him. It was exactly the kind of division that Pierce Point didn’t need. Everyone with a gun was part of the community’s security; the guards, the Team, the Crew, the beach patrol, the comms people. No divisions. No cliques.

  Grant started to remember how much emphasis George Washington put on troop discipline. General Washington was almost fanatical about it. Fighting and drunkenness were a constant problem for the Continental Army during the Revolutionary War, as were divisions between the regular army and state militias. Fighting and drunkenness were dealt with by flogging. Stealing was a problem, too. Depending on the amount stolen, the death penalty was administered. Deserters were shot. In fact, the story goes, when one unit tried to desert, Gen. Washington ordered that unit to count off. Every tenth man from the deserting unit was lined up. Washington ordered the deserting unit to shoot their own members who were lined up. Desertions went way down after that.

  Grant had always thought that Gen. Washington’s discipline had been too harsh, but now he was beginning to understand why Washington had been so adamant about it. There was no way to fight a superior force with undisciplined troops. Look at how pathetic the Blue Ribbon Boys were, Grant thought. And a break down in order among the troops meant they could easily turn into a gang and terrorize the civilians, which was the very opposite of what they were trying to do out at Pierce Point. Maintaining order among the troops was more important than being precisely fair, he thought. Military discipline had to be fair enough to prevent a mutiny, but it didn’t have to be one hundred percent fair. Precise fairness was the goal for the civilian courts. They didn’t have the tough job the troops did, so civilians could afford to have precise fairness as the goal.

  Dan arrived and was briefed. He was taking Ethan’s side, then Kellie told them about how Ethan had come to the house and how they fled. Dan was no longer as staunch a defender of Ethan.

  Rich came over to Grant and said, “This is a commander’s call. Troop discipline is a military thing, not a court thing. Not a civilian court thing.”

  Grant nodded. Rich was right. Under the Constitution, the military got to discipline its own members outside of the civilian court system. Grant would not be the judge on this matter. Besides, he was biased in favor of Wes. Rich, who was not biased like Grant or Dan, could make an impartial decision.

  Rich paused for a moment and then said to everyone assembled outside the Richardson house, “OK, fighting is not allowed. Neither is banging on someone’s door and trying to do who knows what. I don’t give a shit who did more fighting. Here’s the message: Fighting and acting up is dealt with severely. And fairly. So both Ethan and Wes are in jail for three days. Starting now. This is a commander’s call and I’m the commander. Period.”

  “What?” Wes said, looking at Grant for help. “Me? I’m going to jail?”

  “Yep,” Grant said sternly. “Military discipline is critical. And it’s the commander’s decision, not a civilian court thing. I support Rich’s decision.”

  Kellie started crying. Ethan just stood there with a very strange look in his eye.

  “What if I quit?” Ethan said. “And I leave here.”

  “You can’t quit,” Dan said. “You…” Dan thought about it. The guards had not pledged to serve for any period of time, and he knew he couldn’t insist on the guards enlisting for several years. Dan had never thought about that. He just assumed the guards would serve as long as the community needed it.

  “Well, I guess you can quit,” Dan said. “But not Scot free. If you walk out of that gate, you can never come back. Never. If you try to come through that gate, you will be shot. And we keep all your stuff. That’s the price you pay for us feeding you for so long.”

  Grant and Rich went up to Dan. Grant said quietly to Dan, “Dude, this guy knows all our defenses. You can’t let him go into town.”

  “We can’t keep him jail for a few years,” Dan said. “We can’t have him on guard duty if he’s said he doesn’t want to be th
ere. Besides,” Dan smiled, “I purposefully don’t tell the guards much of what’s going on just in case one of them ends up in the enemy’s hands. Ethan doesn’t know much more than a person observing us from a hidden position off the road for a day or two would know.”

  “What about the ‘fifty Marines?’” Grant asked. “What if Ethan tells Winters they don’t exist?”

  Rich and Dan were silent for a moment.

  “Ethan is a disgruntled guard,” Rich said, “leaving Pierce Point over a woman. Not exactly the most trusted source of information, so I’d say Winters would strongly discount whatever Ethan says. But, yeah, Ethan will probably say that there aren’t fifty Marines, though he can’t say for sure that they don’t exist. We’ve been hinting to everyone, including the guards, that some security people are secretly hiding out here, so the worst Ethan can say is that he hasn’t personally seen fifty Marines.”

  Rich thought about it some more and then said to Dan and Grant, “Worst case: Ethan tells Winters that we have snipers on the hill. That keeps Winters out of here. I’m OK with that. And I’m not going to let Ethan stay here. Wes will kill him.” Rich looked around to make sure no one could hear him. “It’s not like Wes doesn’t know how to do it,” he said and then mouthed “Lima down.”

  “Besides,” Dan said, “No one is going to leave Pierce Point willy nilly. They have food and security here. Only fuck ups like Ethan will go. Good riddance.”

  Rich, who was in command, got to make the call. He went over to Ethan and said, “So here’s your choice: First option is three days jail and you go back to guard duty without any other incidents. Second option is you quit and walk out with nothing, never to return.”

  Ethan quickly said, “I’m outta here.” He smiled. He hadn’t done that in a long time. He was relieved. He never wanted to show his face there again. He’d take his chances outside the gate. It couldn’t possibly be that bad out there.

  Rich said, “OK. That solves that. We’ll drive you back to your house where you will give us the keys to everything you have and then you leave.”

  “Great,” Ethan said. “I’ll be out of this little hick town.” To Rich, who knew how bad it was back in Frederickson, leaving Pierce Point sounded insane. He realized that pride was a bigger motivator to a young hot heat like Ethan than safety and food.

  Now it was Wes’s turn to receive his punishment. Rich turned to Wes and said, “Surrender your weapons, Wes.” The moment felt tense.

  Wes realized that he had to obey. He thought it was crazy for him—the one who was protecting Kellie from a psycho—to go to jail while the bad guy just walked away. He looked at Grant and asked, “Really?

  “Really,” Grant said. “I fully support Rich’s decision. He’s in command. Period. The Team gets treated like anyone else.” Grant really didn’t fully support the decision because it was unfair, but he understood why it needed to be done, and he had to publicly support Rich. Grant also had to show everyone that the Team got no special treatment.

  Wes, who was still handcuffed, motioned with his head to Bobby to take away his pistol. It felt weird to be disarming a handcuffed member of the Team, but Bobby did it. He handed Wes’s Glock to Scotty. Wes motioned with his head at his AR, which was on the ground. Bobby picked it up, checked to make sure it was on safe, and handed it to Rich.

  Bobby went up to Wes and pointed to his front pants pocket. “Sorry, dude,” Bobby said and took out Wes’s Zero Tolerance folding knife. “I’ll take good care of this,” he said, “for three short days, brother.” That knife meant everything. Members of the Team always had their matching knives with them. Always.

  Wes realized that all eyes were on him. Would he be a whiner or a man? “The sooner this starts, the sooner I get out,” Wes said to Rich. “Who’s taking me back there?”

  Kellie started crying. She needed Wes right now. She needed him and now he was going to jail. This wasn’t fair.

  Rich made arrangements for someone to take Wes to the jail. As Wes walked by Rich, he pulled him aside and whispered, “Don’t worry. You’ll get the star treatment in jail. Comfy room. Good food. I just had to do this to show…”

  “I know, I know,” Wes whispered back, “the Team gets no breaks. I understand. One request: conjugal visits?” he said looking over at Kellie.

  “We’ll see,” Rich said. “I just don’t want you to get caught. It’ll take away the ‘no special treatment’ thing I’m trying to do here.”

  Wes nodded and recognized that Rich was doing what he could. Wes decided to think of it as three days of rest, which he could use. They had been patrolling and training hard for weeks.

  A truck came for Ethan. A few minutes later, one came for Wes. Kellie was crying while Sheila took her away in their car.

  Things got quiet for the first time in a while. Finally Rich said, “OK, let’s get back to work. Let’s run through this raid one more time. In slow motion first, then full speed. Empty mags and empty chambers. Safeties on. Let’s go, gentlemen.”

  Grant stood there and thought about the different things that motivate people. He was trying to motivate people to risk their lives and do some very nasty things with the promise of high-minded things, like freedom and liberty. That motivated a few people. But other people, like Ethan, were motivated to do life-changing things, such as leaving the safety of Pierce Point, by things like being scorned by a woman. Never underestimate wildcards like jealousies over women, Grant thought. Never think that this is some perfect chess game of political philosophies and predictable behaviors. Human beings are a crap shoot. Expect the unexpected.

  Chapter 194

  Same Ole’, Same Ole’

  (July 17)

  Wes did his three days in jail, no problem. He actually enjoyed the rest. The part he didn’t like was no Kellie. Rich couldn’t figure out a way to allow conjugal visits without getting caught. When Wes got out, he and Kellie spent about a day doing nothing but having the wildest and most passionate sex of their lives. Kellie was very glad to have him back and was so proud that he went to jail for her. She showed her appreciation in the bedroom. Wes went back to work with the Team. He had missed them and they had missed him.

  Everything was back in a rhythm. There was actually a “same ole’, same ole’” routine developing. Everyone had their specific jobs now and they were doing them, like the old days, except they were different than their pre-Collapse jobs.

  Grant was spending most of his time at the Grange doing organizational things and a little bit of judging. He had a mental health commitment trial about once a week. He also informally resolved various civil disputes, most of which involved property line disagreements. One case involved who owned a generator. He tried not to spend time having a full trial for these civil disputes. He talked to each side and tried to get them to settle, which worked in every case. This was more than a way to save his time, and the jury’s time; it was to come to a resolution of the dispute that both sides sort of agreed to instead of one side winning outright and the other side losing. Those things tend to simmer and lead to hard feelings for years. They didn’t need that out at Pierce Point.

  He and Drew were continuing to work on a very detailed roster of Patriots and Loyalists. Luckily, with Snelling and his people gone, there weren’t too many “L”s left on the roster, but there were many “U”s: Undecideds.

  About three quarters of Pierce Point remained Undecided. Maybe they were soft Patriots or Loyalists, but they weren’t wearing their politics on their sleeves, which was pretty typical when two sides are competing for the support of the population and there is violence on both sides.

  However, more and more people were openly identifying themselves as Patriots. But politics was a secondary—way secondary—thing for most people. They were focusing on gardens, FCard food, gas, medical issues, and all the other things it was going to take them to survive. Many people worked sixteen hours a day making sure they would survive. They were tired and didn’t really care about philosophi
cal discussions regarding the Constitution.

  Fair enough, Grant thought. As long as they weren’t Loyalists trying to get everyone killed, Grant was fine with Undecideds quietly doing their thing. In fact, Grant’s vision for after the Collapse was to have the people who didn’t care about politics go back to their lives of doing their own things. Grant’s hope for a free society was that politics wouldn’t matter because the government’s powers would be constitutionally limited so it wouldn’t make a difference who was in office. The ideal was that government wouldn’t do much bad because it couldn’t do much at all.

  The hardest thing for Grant was hiding the Ted project from Lisa. Every time he was with her, he felt like such a liar. The longer he didn’t tell her, the bigger the breach of trust would be. He struggled with this. He wanted a happy marriage, but he couldn’t tell her. He was slowly realizing that his marriage would probably be over because of this stupid Collapse and the war that was coming. Grant could feel that he was thinking of himself more and more as a solider instead of a husband. He hated it. But he couldn’t come up with a solution. “Play the hand you’re dealt,” he would always say to himself.

  Lisa, on the other hand, was doing well. She was easing into the idea of being a doctor who got paid in cans of tuna. She was so glad she was out at Pierce Point instead of Olympia. She didn’t know how to tell Grant that. He might get a big head and say “I told you so,” which would ruin the whole good glow of the moment. So she never told him. He probably knew, she told herself.

  Manda and Cole were doing great. Manda had emerged as quite a leader of the kids. They loved her. The group of kids she oversaw was growing.

  Cole was doing amazingly well. All the busyness of suburban life—all those people talking all the time—had really worn him out. There was none of that in Pierce Point. His talking was getting better and better. It was amazing to see.