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

by Mark Goodwin

  “I’m so hungry! This feels like such a treat to eat in a restaurant,” Cassie said.

  Noah kept his eyes on the road. “It might be the last time for a while, so enjoy it. Benny said the dollar is completely worthless as of today. According to the foreign news service he’s picking up on the shortwave, no country in the world will accept US currency.”

  Isaiah said, “You know, Sharon doesn’t have any food left at the Kettle at all. She’s actually preparing the food at home and bringing it in for this operation.”

  Cassie said, “Now I feel bad. I would have made a dish to bring if I would’ve known that. I figured it was food she still had in the walk-in freezer.”

  Isaiah looked over the seat at Cassie. “Don’t feel bad. You know she loves to cook for people. That restaurant was her life. This will probably be the last time she gets to serve anyone one for a while.”

  “If we don’t have a functioning currency, there’s no way for commerce to be conducted.” Cassie sighed.

  Noah glanced over at Isaiah, “Don’t you think they’ll institute a replacement currency soon?”

  Cassie’s voice came from the back. “Yeah, a global cashless currency. It’s already set up. The globalists are just waiting for people to beg for it.”

  Isaiah said, “You’re probably right.”

  Noah knew that Cassie’s statement was most likely correct, but he hoped against hope that everything could go back to the way it was before.

  When they arrived at the Kettle, Noah parked in the back as Sharon had requested. She had explained that she didn’t want people who might be driving by to get excited about the restaurant being open, only to be disappointed.

  Sharon opened the back door and let them in. “Come on in! I’ve got a great meal for you folks.”

  Noah took off his coat. “Have you heard from Elliot or Kevin? Do you know if they’re on the way?”

  “Haven’t heard yet.” Sharon went back to the kitchen.

  Noah and the others found a booth near the window and waited. Noah reviewed the plan in his mind while he waited. Elliot and Kevin were supposed to pull over a fuel tanker and explain to the driver that similar trucks were being used to smuggle drugs. The trucker would be brought to the Kettle for lunch while his tanker was supposedly being inspected. Noah was to convince the trucker to let Sevierville have some of the fuel over a nice, home-cooked meal with Cassie and Lacy as props to make Noah look like the all-American family man, so the trucker would be more inclined to agree to the request. The operation was being held at the Kettle, so no one’s residence would be compromised in case the trucker decided to turn them in. Isaiah was along for moral support, and for security, in case things went south.

  Noah heard the restaurant’s phone ring from the back. Seconds later, Sharon emerged with a pot of coffee and some cups. “They’re on the way.”

  Isaiah pulled out 10 one-ounce silver bars and placed them on the table in front of Noah. “These are for a sweetener, to help get a deal.”

  “Sure you want to give these up?” Noah looked them over.

  “I’ve got plenty. You’ve seen inside my safe.” Isaiah winked.

  Cassie picked one up. “So what’s the price on an ounce of silver now?”

  Isaiah chuckled. “The dollar is completely worthless. You can’t put a dollar amount on an ounce of silver. If you had fifty trillion dollars, it wouldn’t buy you one ounce of silver, because fifty trillion has no value at all. But silver, it’s always been money.”

  “I hope the trucker knows that,” Noah said.

  Isaiah replied, “If he’s as old as me, he’ll remember when silver was used for money.”

  Sharon unlocked and opened the front door. “Come on in.”

  Elliot Rodgers dropped the trucker off at the entrance of the restaurant. “Sharon, this is Clifford Atkins.”

  “What a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Atkins. Elliot, will you be joining us for lunch?” She asked.

  “No ma’am. I’ve got to get back to the office. I’ll pick Clifford up when we’ve finished.” Elliot tipped his Sheriff’s Department ball cap.

  Sharon escorted Clifford over to the table and made introductions. Clifford wore a faded hat with the Mack truck bulldog on the front. His blue vest jacket was worn over a red plaid flannel shirt which, covered his pot belly. The shirt was tucked into his jeans, revealing an oversized brass belt buckle with an eagle engraved on it. His beard was a bit longer than Isaiah’s and much bushier. Noah made a mental note of the eagle and hoped it was a sign of patriotism.

  “Nice to meet you Clifford.” Cassie offered her hand.

  He shook her hand, then shook hands with the others. “Call me Cliff. I would say the pleasure is all mine, but the circumstances are a bit unusual. Normally, anyone under suspicion for smuggling drugs wouldn’t be treated to lunch unless it was inside a cell and out of a brown bag.”

  “Please, have a seat.” Noah scooted over to make room for Cliff.

  Cliff surveyed the restaurant. “I’ve been all over since the attacks. Most of the truck stops were closed by the third day. FEMA stepped in shortly thereafter to keep pumping fuel for the big rigs, but the restaurants stayed closed. We get MREs from FEMA when we stop to fill up. The attacks were ten days ago, and here we are sitting in a restaurant. Since the deputies pulled me over on the highway, everyone has been real nice and polite, but I know something ain’t right here. I’d appreciate it if someone would just be honest with me. Is this just a very courteous hijacking?”

  Noah took a deep breath. “Cliff, this is not a hijacking. I’m sure you’re aware of how DHS is lording over the country and allocating fuel to whom they see fit. For whatever reason, they’ve decided our town is on the naughty list. Our county fuel supplies are tapped. That means no emergency services. We brought you here to ask you if you would consider letting us take some fuel, just to keep those services running.”

  Sharon showed up right on cue with heaping bowls of macaroni and cheese, chicken and dumplings, turnip greens, cornbread, and fried chicken. “Here are some plates; ya’ll just serve your selves, family style.”

  Cliff’s smile shined through his bushy beard. “After a week of MREs, this is a pleasant surprise.”

  Noah handed him the chicken. “You’re our guest. Enjoy. No strings attached.”

  Isaiah said a quick prayer; then they all dug in.

  Cliff enjoyed a few bites of the wonderful meal. Finally, he said, “One part of me wishes you would have just taken what you needed and not asked. You folks are about the nicest I’ve seen since the attacks, and that little girl over there is about the same age as my boy back in Iowa. I hate to see the children going through all of this, but the gasoline isn’t mine to give.”

  Isaiah nodded. “But it wasn’t the government’s to take, either. Whatever the cause of the attacks, we can’t nullify our Constitution and declare a totalitarian regime. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

  Cliff finished the bite of cornbread he was chewing. “It’s absolute chaos at the DHS command centers. They’ve taken over five to ten gas stations around every command center, depending on the size. Most of the FEMA camps are in the same vicinity and are utilizing the same gas stations. Each filling station has two or three armored vehicles and about ten soldiers standing guard. They have one or two guys, usually from FEMA, who act as clerks. They clear all the military vehicles who are coming to fuel up and direct the tankers where to fill the pump tanks. They don’t have any paperwork, they aren’t keeping track of anything, and they are just waving people through to try to get them in and out. It’s a perfect example of how this country’s been run for the past twenty years.

  “Now, if those fellows who took my rig were to lighten the load, no one would ever be the wiser, including me.”

  Sharon walked by to fill the coffee. Noah looked her in the eye and held up one finger, indicating that she could call Jim and tell him to proceed with part one of the operation.

  Sharon winked to
let Noah know she’d seen the signal. “Ya’ll need more cornbread?”

  “No thank you, ma’am,” Cliff said.

  Noah asked, “Are you being paid by FEMA for hauling the gas?”

  Cliff tilted his head from side to side. “I’m not getting a check, if that’s what you mean. Not that there’d be anywhere to cash it, nor would anyone take the paper money if I could. We are being compensated to some extent. My wife and son were in Cedar Rapids, about half the size of Des Moines, but still big enough to be locked down by DHS. My wife and son have FEMA IDs, which allow them to come and go through the check points. Those IDs have allowed them to stay with our friends down in Swisher, not too far from home. My wife also received a FEMA fuel-ration card, and she can get food at the DHS commissary, just like government employee families.”

  Cliff put his fork down for a moment. “If you thought we had a major division of classes before, you ain’t seen nothing. Government employees are the haves; everyone else are the have-nots. I hate it. I don’t like being a part of a corrupt system, but if I weren’t, my family would be in one of those camps. I haven’t seen inside because I drive a fuel truck. But I’ve heard some stories from the other truckers who drive supplies into the FEMA camps. From what they tell me, those camps don’t look like nothing you’ve ever seen in America.”

  Cassie asked the man, “What’s the consensus amongst the truckers? Do they believe the official story about American Patriots for Christ being responsible for the attacks?”

  Cliff snorted. “No, we don’t know what happened, but just about everyone I’ve talked to knows it wasn’t APC.”

  Cassie continued speaking. “So, it’s at least plausible that the government could have pulled off the attacks and is using APC as a scapegoat.”

  “I guess that makes about as much sense as anything.” Cliff regained his interest in the chicken and took another piece.

  Noah asked, “If the government were involved in such a conspiracy, do you believe that would warrant action against such a government?”

  “Like what?” Cliff looked at Noah.

  “Do you know what bleach does to a fuel tank or to an engine?” Noah asked.

  Cliff raised his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t be good. It’d take an awful lot of bleach though.”

  Noah smiled. “Well Sevierville is a resort town. We have a lot of hotels with swimming pools. Probably won’t be using those pools for a while with the economy the way it is.”

  Cliff went back to his chicken. “Like I said, don’t ask me for permission. But, if this is just a hypothetical conversation, no one is keeping any kind of records of where fuel is coming from, what truck it came in on, nor where it’s going. It’d be a shame to see all those Humvees and MRAPs falling apart in a week or two.”

  Sharon came by and cleared the plates. “Apple pie will be out in a minute.”

  Noah held up two fingers to signal to Sharon that she should call Jim to tell him to move ahead with the second part of the plan. She nodded to let him know she caught the sign.

  Cliff grinned. “Of course they could change my route at any time, but I pass through here about once a month. If I thought there was a chance of getting a meal like this, I might be inclined to get the tank checked out every time, just in case. You never know what someone might stick in there while I’m sleeping.”

  Noah took five of the silver bars Isaiah had given him earlier and put them on the table in front of Cliff. “Well, if the sheriff didn’t find any contraband, I’m sure we’d want to compensate you for your trouble.”

  Cliff picked up the bar. “These are fetching a lot of barter value at the trading posts popping up around the country.”

  Cassie’s eyes lit up. “Trading posts?”

  “Oh yeah. Anywhere there was a flea market or fairgrounds in the rural parts of the country, trading posts are popping up.” Cliff continued to tell them everything he’d learned from being on the road.

  Sharon brought the pie and everyone enjoyed a piece. Afterwards, Elliot Rodgers came in from the back door. “Mr. Atkins, your truck is clear. We’re sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll be happy to drive you back to your rig, whenever you’re ready.” Cliff winked at Elliot. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

  Cliff stood and slipped the five silver bars in his pocket. “It was a pleasure meeting all of you. I hope we’ll get to meet up again in December.”

  Noah and the others expressed how nice they thought it was to have met Cliff and thanked him once again. Then Cliff followed Elliot out the back door.

  Noah handed the remaining five bars back to Isaiah. “If this becomes a regular thing, we might want to start low and go up on price if we have to. My guess is that truckers are already figuring out ways to profit from the lax accounting practices of DHS. If trading posts are popping up around the country, that will make it much easier to find buyers for whatever they can pilfer off the government.”

  Isaiah stretched as he put his coat on. “More power to them. Every commodity they can siphon off of DHS is one less resource the government will have to hunt us down. We should start thinking of a place to get a trading post going. I’m happy to provide any liquidity that I can to encourage push-back against DHS.

  “Good call on the silver. If we’d given Cliff ten ounces right off the bat, he would probably expect it every time. Are we ready to ride out and look at that cabin?”

  Cassie helped Lacy with her coat. “Why don’t you guys drop me off at the house? I’m going to get a new issue of The Tallmadge Letter finished to give to everyone at the meeting tomorrow. I’ll make sure I include the line about trading posts. That’ll help get people talking about it.”

  Isaiah stroked his beard. “The streets are buzzing with people wondering when the next issue is coming out. You’ve created quite a stir.”

  Noah thanked Sharon as they headed for the door. “Sure you don’t need any help cleaning up?”

  “Everything is done already. All I have left to do is lock the door,” she said.

  “Would you like to ride out to the cabin with Isaiah and me?” Noah offered.

  “And me!” Lacy said.

  “No thanks. I need to get these leftovers home and into the fridge.” Sharon kissed Isaiah on the cheek.

  He blushed. “See you later on.”

  The Parkers and Isaiah left the Kettle.

  Noah pulled into his drive. “Lacy, are you sure you want to ride with us? It’s a long drive. You can stay with mommy if you want.”

  Lacy stayed in her seat. “Sox will be home with Mommy. I can go with you.”

  Cassie kissed Lacy on the head. “Be good for Daddy.”

  “See you in a little while,” Noah said.

  “No detours. Straight there and straight back,” Cassie said.

  Isaiah saluted her with his hand. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes and shut the vehicle’s door.

  Noah put the Santa Fe in reverse and backed out of the drive. “Jim gave you the lock box code, right?”

  Isaiah pulled a crumpled bit of paper from his shirt pocket. “Got it right here.”

  “And you know how to get there?”

  “Go towards Maryville, then take Foothills Parkway, south. The property backs up to the national park.”

  “I guess that could be good or bad.”

  “How so?” Isaiah asked.

  “Plenty of wood and fresh water from the creeks in the park. Maybe some game. Might be able to forage for nuts and berries, too. But, it could also be a big draw to other people looking to bug out.”

  “I don’t think people would last long in the park without proper shelter. It might seem like a good idea at first, but they’ll learn how tough it is out there, real quick.”

  Noah nodded. “And that’s part of the problem. If folks get out in the mountains unprepared, they could get desperate. Desperate people do desperate things.”

  “If the girls have to go out there, they’ll have a good security plan. Every one
of them can shoot, including Lynette and Lacy.”

  “You talked Sharon into learning how to shoot?”

  Isaiah sighed. “She can pull the trigger. I don’t know if she could hit anything, but it would at least make some noise.”

  The cabin was about forty-five miles away from Noah’s, and it took just over an hour to arrive.

  Lacy jumped out of the vehicle. “It’s a wood house!”

  Noah laughed. “It’s called a log cabin.” The cabin sat high on the side of a hill overlooking the Smokey Mountains.

  Isaiah climbed the stairs to the sprawling front porch. “You’ve got a good vantage point down to the road from here. It would be easy to spot anyone coming up here long before they get to the cabin. There is a deck on the second floor on the back side of the house. You don’t have any blind avenues of approach.”

  Noah walked along the porch. “This rail on the porch won’t offer any cover if the cabin were to be attacked. From inside, you don’t really have many good shooting positions.”

  “You could stack your fire wood along the rail. That would be better cover than nothing. It would also serve to keep the wood out of the snow since the porch is covered.”

  “Good idea. The girls wouldn’t have to go far for wood either. It would be right outside the door.”

  Lacy was exploring the yard. Noah called for her. “Lacy, let’s go look inside.”

  “I’m looking for raccoons.”

  “What are you going to do if you find one? I think you better come inside with me. We can look around outside some more before we leave.”

  “Okay.” Lacy climbed the stairs to the porch.

  Isaiah entered the code on the lock box and retrieved the key. He opened the door and let Lacy and Noah in first. “Lots of natural light. I love the wood burning stove on the hearth. Those are so much more efficient than fireplaces. And you can cook on them if you need to.”

  Noah looked through the kitchen, then examined each of the three bedrooms. “I think this place would be perfect. It’s exactly what I had in mind. I just hope we can get a deal on it. What did Jim say they were asking?”

  “185,000. But it has been on the market for nearly a year. If we can get the owner to value silver and gold at the levels right before the dollar went away, we could easily give him full price. If he will settle in silver and gold, that is.”