The Days of Noah, The Complete Box Set: A Novel of the End Times in America

by Mark Goodwin

  “We’re outgunned, outnumbered, and we have no idea what we are up against technologically. But as hopeless as it sounds, we have God—the same God who delivered King Hezekiah from the Assyrian army. We need a miracle. Fortunately, God is in the miracle business.”

  Isaiah bowed his head. “Lord, we need a miracle. We need your direction and blessings. We pray you’ll forgive our shortcomings and grant us the strength to persevere in obedience to your will. We know that you chose to deliver King Hezekiah. We also know that the apostles glorified you through their suffering and martyrdom. You’re sovereign, so the choice is yours, but if that is the path you have for us, we pray for the strength to accept it. Amen.”

  Isaiah looked up, but the magnitude of the prayer, the collective thought that they could actually die for their beliefs, here, in America, hung over the room like a heavy, dark fog of despair.

  Cassie was the first one to stir after the prayer. She retrieved Noah’s backpack from the corner near the door. “We, Noah and I, somewhat anticipated that websites and radio stations who dared to report on the rumors of the detention camps would probably be shut down. We put together a one-page newsletter called The Tallmadge Letter.”

  She put on gloves and pulled out several stacks, which were wrapped in plastic wrap. “This is what it looks like. We envisioned it to be a guerilla information source. Anyone that’s interested can help us distribute it around town. Leave a stack at the laundry mat, the grocery store. Buy a paper and stick some in the newspaper box—anywhere at all. I wrapped them to keep your prints off of them. Just make sure you wear gloves when you unwrap them to distribute. The Mountain Press is going to run an article about the letter, which will look like they’re decrying it, but the actual purpose is to raise awareness of the letter, so people will start searching it out. I’ll write a new addition whenever we have a significant amount of new information to get out.”

  Benny took a stack and smiled. “Tallmadge Letter. I like it.”

  Several other took copies to distribute.

  Jim looked at his stack of letters. “Cassie, this looks fantastic. I think using The Mountain Press article to get the word out is a great idea also.

  “As most of you know, Sandy and I worked in real estate for several years. The way we got aerial shots of the properties we listed was by using drones. The first one we purchased was pretty good: a DJI Phantom. We took great pictures with it, but we started creating video tours for high-end properties. When prices started coming down for drones, we upgraded to an AIR8, which can carry more advanced video cameras. Since we’re anticipating some level of harassment from the federal government, I think the drones could be useful as an early-warning system.”

  David chided Jim. “Doesn’t the FAA restrict realtors from using drones?”

  Jim winked. “Thanks for pointing out that the sheriff might be a criminal, David. I really appreciate that. Especially in front of three of my employees. But to clear my good name, nothing prohibits homeowners from using a borrowed drone to take a picture of their own home.

  “Of course, to show I’m as concerned about abiding by every jot and tittle our fine legislative institutions have ever written, I’m sure all of your farming practices strictly comply with all FDA and EPA standards.”

  The group all laughed, along with David who said, “Absolutely. Strict compliance. And all of our home school material as well. It’s one hundred percent, communist-core approved.”

  When everyone had stopped laughing, Sarah crossed her legs. She tugged at the cuff of her jeans as if she were trying to be sure her prosthetic was covered. “I assume by ‘more advanced video camera’ you mean heavier. If the drone can carry larger video cameras, I suppose it could also transport a payload.”

  Jim shrugged. “I guess. Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I was just wondering, thinking out loud, I guess.”

  Isaiah seemed to get Sarah’s hint. “You mean like explosives, IEDs?”

  Sarah pursed her lips. “Whatever—a cup of sugar, stick of butter … IED.”

  Noah found her coyness amusing. “Do you know anything about how they’re designed?”

  “Drones?”

  Noah sensed that she was forcing him to say it. He wondered if it was a good idea since he’d just met her, but he trusted Jim, Elliot, and Kevin. They all worked with her and trusted Sarah enough to bring her to this highly-confidential meeting. “No, IEDs.”

  Sarah tugged the cuff of her jeans again. “I guess you could say I spent some time researching them after my injury. Sort of a morbid fascination, perhaps. I know a thing or two about how they tick.”

  Noah immediately recognized Sarah’s value to the group. Even though the conversation was making some of the others visually uncomfortable, he was sure they’d understand what an asset she could be if things continued to progress in the expected direction. “Cool. I was just curious.”

  Sarah smiled. “Sure. No problem at all.”

  Jim said, “That’s a thought, but it would be a one-time operation, and then we’d lose the surveillance capabilities.”

  “Not necessarily,” Sarah said. “If the payload were suspended on a cable connected by something like a wrist-trigger release for a compound bow, it would be very simple to drop it on command.”

  “And how would it detonate?” Jim asked.

  “Burner cell phones could be used for that.”

  Cassie asked, “Couldn’t cell service be blocked if DHS suspected it was being used to detonate devices?”

  “Yes, unless you had some old direct-talk phones. Like those old Motorola’s that worked like walkie talkies.”

  Noah looked over at Benny, who was smiling. Benny gave Noah a nod as if he knew Noah wanted to ask whether he had any of those, but said nothing.

  Noah glanced at Sharon, who was squirming. He knew she was uncomfortable around all of this kind of talk, but he was proud of her for not trying to shut it down or walk out. She’d come a long way in a few short weeks.

  Jim said, “We can bring the drones out next week and practice flying them. It would be good for several of us to get acquainted with them, and it would be a great opportunity for anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable training for direct combat rolls.”

  Sharon said, “I’d like to learn. That would be great.”

  Noah was shocked. “I didn’t see that coming.” He looked at Isaiah, who also had a look of surprise. Sharon had truly come around to reality.

  Sandy looked over at her. “I’ll be happy to teach you.”

  Noah patted Cassie on the leg. “That might be a good thing for you to learn.”

  Cassie shot him a look. “I’m training for direct combat.”

  Noah lowered his voice, so only Cassie could hear him. “We talked about this, remember?”

  Cassie whispered back. “No, you talked about this, remember?”

  Noah knew it wasn’t the time to bring up a fallback position for the girls to go to if the town was overrun. He’d have to wait and get together with Jim and Isaiah later.

  Most everyone started talking in smaller groups about this and that. David stood and walked over near Jim and Noah. He knelt down and looked at Jim. “Any word on gas deliveries?”

  Jim sighed. “No. And the county fuel tanks are just about tapped, which means we can’t keep patrols rolling much longer. We’ve got more diesel than gas. We might have another few days to keep your trucks running since they use diesel, but if I can’t provide deputies to respond to incidents, I can’t let you guys go out.”

  David was serious. “We can take care of ourselves. Most everyone who is still coming to work is packing heat. Why don’t you give your deputies a couple of those diesel pick-ups from Public Works?”

  Jim nodded. “That would buy us some time. We need a permanent solution, though. Why don’t the three of us go grab some coffee in the kitchen? These folks have heard enough about the end of the world as we know it for one day.”

  Noah followed David
and Jim. “Is there any way to commandeer gas being taken to supply DHS in Knoxville? It’s probably just rolling in regular tanker trucks. Do you think they have escorts?”

  “I don’t know,” Jim said. “We’ve got about a four-mile stretch of I-40 running through Sevier County. I’ll put Elliot and Kevin out there tomorrow to see if the tankers have escorts.”

  David asked, “And if not, what are you going to do? Pull them over in a patrol car and hijack them?”

  Jim shook his head. “Heck no. Truck drivers are mostly good ol’ boys. They hate what’s going on as much, or more, than anybody. Most of them would probably be happy to help out a county that is standing up to DHS. We might be able to think of some ways to compensate them for their support.”

  A mischievous smirk came across Noah’s face. “Some of the truck drivers might even be interested in helping us sabotage DHS.”

  David’s eyes lit up. “What do you have in mind?”

  Noah shrugged. “I’m no mechanic, but I hear sugar in the gas tank is rough on engines.”

  Jim laughed. “Anything but gas in a gas tank is rough on an engine if it makes it pass the fuel filter. Sugar in a tank is something of an urban legend though. It won’t even dissolve in gas.”

  Noah thought about the problem. “What if you dissolved it in water first?”

  Jim replied. “Then, the gas would sit on top, and the sugar water would go to the bottom. The water might stall the engine out, but once the fuel system was flushed, I doubt the sugar would have caused serious damage.”

  David smiled. “Bleach will.”

  “Will what?” Noah asked.

  “Cause serious damage. It will oxidize the engine parts. Household bleach is mostly water, so in the short run, DHS would just think they’d gotten hold of some gas that had water in it. They’d probably flush the tanks and forget about it. But once the damage is started, the bleach will rust the inside of the fuel tank, which will continually clog the fuel filter until it’s changed out. It will rust the carburetor, cylinder heads, everything. And the great thing is, by the time they figure out what happened or what’s going on, the tanker who delivered the gas would be long gone.”

  Jim rubbed his head as he contemplated David’s scheme. “That might be a feasible plan if we can find a trucker who wants to take the risk.”

  Noah grinned. “I’m sure you’ll find plenty of them that would love to be part of that plan.”

  Isaiah came in the room. “You boys are cooking something up; I can tell. You planning to leave me out of the conspiracy?”

  Jim quickly brought Isaiah up to speed.

  Isaiah smiled. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  Noah said, “While I’ve got you guys alone, what do you think about looking for a fallback position?”

  David said, “I thought this was going to be our Alamo.”

  Noah nodded. “Yes, and I think it’s a good place to make our last stand, but what about the girls? Let’s face it: If we’re hit by DHS, there won’t be any survivors, unless the survivor is captured. I’d rather die, personally. I don’t want my daughter to be taken by DHS and raised by this corrupt state. I’m sure you don’t either, David. If we could find a small hunting cabin, way back in the woods somewhere, that would be a terrific place for the girls to bug out.”

  Isaiah stroked his beard. “Sharon will go for it. Sandy and Becky might, but do you think Cassie will?”

  Noah took the coffee cup as David handed it to him. “At the last moment, when she realizes that either she bugs out or Lacy grows up with no mother or father, yes, I think she will.”

  Jim said, “I’ll dig around and see what our old real estate office has listed for sale. I’ll try to do everything under the radar as much as possible.”

  Isaiah said, “Let me know what you find. I might have a little something put aside for a rainy day.”

  Noah nodded. “Me too. We’re all in this together, so regardless of anyone’s financial abilities, their girls will be welcome at the cabin. Do we all agree on that?”

  The three other men acknowledged that they concurred.

  The hour was getting late, so most of the attendees began to thin out. Noah, Cassie, and Lacy were among the last to leave. It had been a long day, but seeing a plan develop amid the group members put Noah’s mind at ease. He would sleep well knowing he’d done what he could.

  CHAPTER 15

  As nightfall does not come at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there is a twilight when everything remains seemingly unchanged. And it is in such a twilight that we all must be most aware of change in the air—however slight—lest we become the unwitting victims of the darkness.

  Former Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas

  Everett sawed off several saplings with the serrated side of his hunting knife to construct a makeshift sled. It would be used to move the deer carcass that Courtney had just shot. He stripped away the limbs and used duct tape to secure the saplings at a cross point to form an X. He then attached four limbs, lengthwise, on the bottom portion of the X. The upper legs of the X would be used as handles to drag the lower section, which would have the deer resting on top.

  Courtney waited until he had almost finished the convoluted contraption. “You know, we could have duct-taped the feet together, ran one sapling from front to back between the feet, each taken a side, and carried the deer upside down.”

  Everett stared at his mess of tape and twig. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  Normally, Everett enjoyed her playful snarkiness, but not today. “Courtney, I wasted a third of a roll of duct tape on this…this whatever. Your suggestion could have saved a lot of tape. We have to do everything we can to conserve resources.”

  Courtney grabbed both sides of his toboggan cap and pulled him toward herself. She kissed him. “Relax. We’re going to be fine. Honestly, I just thought of the idea.

  “We’ve been up here for a week and we’re getting a little edgy about playing Daniel Boone. It’s starting to feel less like a camping trip and more like we’ve been uprooted from everything that’s familiar to us and stuck in a small cabin together. We’ve got a long winter ahead of us, so it’s important to remember to breathe and take everything as light-heartedly as possible.”

  Everett took a deep breath. “You’re right. I just need to slow down. Actually, if we had some strong cord, we could have tied the feet together, and it would have been reusable.”

  “One of the knives we bought at Gander Mountain had some type of cord wrapped around it. It looked strong. I thought it was just ornamental, but maybe it’s intended as a utility cord. They had a bunch of bracelets by the checkout made with the same type of cord. We probably should have bought some type of cordage.”

  Everett rolled the deer over onto the sled. “Jones had all kinds of junk out in the wood shed. I’ll look around for some twine or rope. Let’s get this big boy home on this thing for now.”

  “Think it would cut some of the weight down if you gutted it here?”

  Everett stopped moving the deer. “Yeah, and then we wouldn’t have to move the guts to keep the bears away.”

  “Okay, I shot it, so you can gut it.”

  Everett started to open up the deer. “I made the bait, so you could shoot the deer.”

  “I know, but it’s too gross. I’ll try to skin the next small animal. Please?”

  Everett had to stop a couple of times. He’d skinned a few squirrels, rabbits, and quail over the past week, but this was taking some getting used to. “If I had some rope, I could string it up in a tree by the head and process the whole thing here.”

  Courtney looked over at what Everett was doing, but quickly looked away. “If you don’t want to go back to the CIA when this is over, you could start your own outdoor show. That was obviously a good bait that you put together. What all did you put in it?”

  Everett kept working while he talked. “The
recipe called for rice bran, which we didn’t have, so I half-cooked some rice and used that instead. I used brown sugar like the kid said; I wasn’t sure how much, so I guessed. I think I put a cup of sugar in four cups of rice. He said strawberry Jell-O. We didn’t have that, so I used a packet of raspberry drink mix. Lucky for us, deer aren’t purists when it comes to food. Okay, this guy is ready to go. Can you carry both guns, and I can drag the sled?”

  “Sure, and for the record, your invention there would be great if a person was hunting by himself.”

  Everett looked over at her. “I’m happy that I’m not by myself.”

  Courtney winked at him. “Me, too.”

  Courtney took over dragging the sled for the last leg of the hike up the mountain to the cabin so Everett could have a break. He carried the guns for that short portion of the walk, and they were soon home.

  Ken came out as they sat down in the back yard to take a break. “No way! You got one?”

  He admired the large buck on the rickety sled. “Did you get him because of that bait you made?”

  Courtney ran her finger along the edge of the antlers. “Yep.”

  Ken looked at her. “You shot it?”

  Everett smiled. “She did.”

  Courtney looked at Everett. “But he gutted it. And made the bait. It was a team effort.”