The Days of Noah, Book Two: Persecution

by Mark Goodwin

  “Well, thanks again.”

  The two men brought the remaining bags into the house, where Noah found places for everything. Afterwards, Cassie, Noah, Sharon, and Isaiah sat at the table. The ladies had coffee, while the two men ate a light snack.

  Isaiah described, in detail, what Henry Whitaker had told them. He then described the men in the black SUV and the subsequent standoff.

  Cassie had been following the news all day while Noah was gone. “That explains how they set up APC.”

  Sharon stated that she had also kept up with the ongoing developments and heard about the attacks being pinned on American Patriots for Christ. “APC had me fooled. I’ve given money to them over the years. I thought they were just a political group. I never had any idea they were capable of violence.”

  Cassie sipped her coffee. “I think you’re missing the point. The government is pinning the attacks on them, but they didn’t actually do it. Like Isaiah just told us, the group Whitaker was working with in Knoxville had absolutely no association with APC.”

  Sharon rolled her eyes. “But Whitaker is a terrorist. You can’t believe anything he says.”

  Cassie took Sharon’s hand. “You just went through this court battle with us. You were at church yesterday. You’ve seen how corrupt this country has become. The government is lying about who committed these attacks.”

  Sharon pulled her hand away. “A court battle with the Department of Education and CPS or a civil case against Faith Church is apples-and-oranges different from what you’re talking about. Why would the federal government lie about who did it?”

  Cassie replied, “To demonize us. To make Christians and people who believe in freedom look like the bad guys.”

  Sharon pursed her lips. “Oh, please, Cassie. Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

  Cassie took a deep breath. “Sharon, you follow the news fairly closely. Do you remember the apartment bombing in Russia during the late 90s?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “Well, that happened right when the changing of the guard was taking place between Yeltsin and Putin. Putin was a nobody and needed some way of getting his name in the public eye besides the corruption charges that were at his heels. Yeltsin’s health was failing him, and he needed someone like Putin who would protect him after he relinquished power so he wouldn’t get his head on the chopping block for corruption.

  “And lo and behold, the bombings happened, and Putin vowed to capture the terrorists. The country rallied around Putin as the fearless leader who would lead the charge. The bombings were blamed on the Chechen separatists, who made the perfect scapegoats, despite the fact that all the evidence, including an unexploded bomb made of military-grade explosives, pointed to former KGB operatives. And as a reminder, Putin served with the KGB in East Germany, where their primary weapons were psychological warfare and character assassination.”

  Sharon sighed deeply. “Is this story supposed to be in comparison to your 9/11 conspiracy?”

  “No. It’s in comparison to what just happened.”

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t see it.”

  “How can you not see it!” Cassie’s voice had a tendency to get a bit loud when she felt passionately about something.

  Noah reached over and gave Cassie’s hand a firm squeeze. He smiled at her to remind her to take it easy.

  Isaiah quickly changed the subject. “Cassie, thank you so much for the beautiful turkey. I’m sure it will be more than we can eat. We might have to organize a get-together for the group. Unless you want to be alone with your family, of course.”

  Noah nodded. “We’ll see how everyone feels about that.”

  The room was silent for a while. Noah knew how important it was to Cassie to make Sharon understand. However, he also knew that you couldn’t dislodge people from denial with a crowbar. Some folks were too afraid to admit what all the evidence pointed to. For them, all you could do was present the facts and let it go. It was up to Sharon whether she wanted to accept the obvious truth or cling to the lies, which no longer held a thimbleful’s worth of credibility.

  Noah took out his keychain and showed the ladies the USB drive that Benny had set up. He gave a cursory explanation of what it did and how it worked.

  Sharon said, “It’s very interesting, but I just don’t see why we would need to go through all of that.”

  Noah smiled at her. “Well, regardless of whether the official story is true or not, the people being blamed for the attacks today have the same beliefs as we do, and the media has already said the government will be monitoring those who have voiced pro-life opinions, support the Second Amendment, or attend churches that refuse to perform gay marriages. Besides all of that, you just said you gave money to APC. You have to know that you’re on the list of people they’ll be watching.”

  Noah had confronted her with the very institutions of corporate media and government that she placed so much faith in. There was nothing she could say to deny that. Sharon sipped her coffee and didn’t respond.

  A little later, Lacy joined the adults at the table, and Cassie served the roast when it was ready.

  During dinner, the conversation stuck to things like gas prices and food availability in the coming weeks and months. Everyone avoided controversial subject matters regarding recent events. Afterwards, Isaiah and Sharon left.

  Noah helped Cassie get the dishes cleaned up. “Are you ready for bed?”

  “I can’t believe you’re sleepy after all that coffee.”

  “After today, nothing could keep me awake.”

  “And you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  Noah couldn’t think of anything; he was too exhausted. “Why’s that?”

  “You’ve got all those turkeys to can.”

  Noah kissed his wife firmly. “Don’t remind me. Let’s get some sleep.”

  If canning turkey was the biggest challenge of the day to come, Noah could handle it . . . but he knew that was wishful thinking.

  CHAPTER 11

  Paper money eventually returns to its intrinsic value — zero.

  Voltaire

  Everett was the first one to wake up on Tuesday morning. He tiptoed to the kitchen since Ken and Lisa were still asleep in the living room on the pull-out couch. Everett started a pot of coffee and stretched his arms. He was eager to turn the TV on to see what was happening, but didn’t want to disturb Ken and Lisa. They’d had a rough time getting to the cabin the day before and needed to rest, so their physical injuries could heal, and they could recuperate their emotional strength.

  Everett didn’t wait for the coffee to finish brewing. He poured himself a cup and stuck the pot back on the warmer. Nice and strong, he thought.

  Courtney came into the kitchen and whispered, “Good morning.”

  Everett greeted her with a kiss. “Good morning. Want some coffee?”

  “Sure. Can we take it outside and drink on the porch?”

  “It’s freezing outside.”

  “No it’s not. It’s like forty-five degrees. Put your coat on.” She kissed him again. “Besides, we won’t have to whisper.”

  Everett smiled. “Alright, I’ll get my coat.”

  “Me, too. Why don’t you grab the radio, and we can listen to see if the world is still there.”

  “Good idea.” Everett put his coat on, stuck the radio in the pocket, grabbed his coffee, and quietly proceeded to the porch.

  Seconds later, Courtney came out wrapped in a quilt with her coffee in hand and sat in the wooden rocking chair next to Everett’s.

  Everett turned on the small battery operated AM/FM/ shortwave radio. “You have a coat and a quilt?”

  Courtney winked. “Yeah, it’s freezing out here.”

  Everett rolled his eyes and searched for a clear FM channel reporting the news. “You know, it’s going to get very claustrophobic in the cabin this winter if we don’t have a designated living area. The only common space we have is the breakfast nook in the kitchen. Ken and Lisa are goin
g to need the living room to be their personal space. I don’t think it will be healthy for the group to try to use the area as their bedroom at night and the living room in the day time.”

  Courtney sipped her coffee. “Why don’t we rearrange the loft? It’s a huge space; it’s the size of the whole cabin. We can cordon off one section for storage and the other as a bedroom. Everything is all over the place up there right now. That’s why it looks full.”

  Everett looked out over the frost, which was slowly disappearing in the morning sun. “The loft has no heat.”

  “That brick chimney runs right up the middle of the house. The only heat in the bedroom is from the heat radiating off the back side of the chimney. The same thing is going on in the loft.”

  Everett thought for a moment. “Yes, but the loft is the insulation for the rest of the cabin. It’ll be a lot colder up there than downstairs.”

  “So, maybe we can partition off a bedroom area around the chimney and use the extremities on both sides as storage. The storage items will act as insulation and keep the center warmer.”

  “That’s a really good idea. The only problem I see is, with that configuration, the storage items will block the windows. We wouldn’t get any natural light, and we might need the windows as observation points if it comes down to worrying about looters.”

  “I didn’t think of that. Hold on; I’m going to go grab a pen and paper. Do you want some more coffee?”

  Everett handed her his cup. “Yes, please.”

  Courtney went back in and soon returned with two fresh cups of coffee and her notebook tucked under her arm. She handed Everett his coffee and sat back down to make a quick sketch of the approximate dimensions of the loft. “The shelves will have to be unloaded and reloaded in order to reposition them, but we can put them here. The boxes can be stacked directly behind the shelves on both sides of the room like this. We can also stack boxes and other items along the edge of the loft where the roof meets the floor. Once the slope of the roof goes below three feet, it isn’t good for anything except storage anyway. Lining those areas with supplies will also act as extra insulation.”

  Everett took the notebook and examined it. “You should have been an interior designer.”

  “I don’t know how aesthetically appealing it will be, but I can certainly make it functional. The best part is that this layout will leave a two-foot space to access the windows so we can use them for observation. Most of the light will still be blocked, but the loft will be primarily for sleeping. Are you thinking of putting Ken and Lisa up there?”

  Everett took a sip of coffee. “I don’t know. Maybe we should take the loft and give them the bedroom. I wouldn’t know how to go about moving the safe downstairs, so we’d have to invade their space every time we have to access it. And like I said before, I’m all about sharing, but I’ll let them know that what we have in the loft on a need-to-know basis.”

  “That makes sense. I’m totally fine with being in the loft.”

  Everett turned the radio up slightly. The station out of nearby Winchester, Virginia was reporting on the local situation.

  “Unlike the major cities, Winchester hasn’t had any fatalities due to violence. A fight broke out last night at the Sheetz on Berryville Pike over who was next in line for gas, but all those involved were gone when police arrived. Similar incidents were reported at gas stations and groceries all around town, but the only one that resulted in an arrest was when two males tried to run out of the Food Lion in the North Park Shopping Center without paying. The manager chased them into the parking lot where they were apprehended by other customers coming to stock up. The two would-be bandits had to be taken to Valley Health Urgent Care Center before they were locked up. Both of the bandits needed stitches. They accused the men who caught them in the parking lot of assault, but police say the alleged crooks most likely received their injuries prior to arriving at Food Lion. At any rate, the message was clear: while the pillage-and-loot mentality may rule the day in large metropolitan areas around the country, that behavior will not be tolerated by police or citizens in Winchester.

  “While the grocery stores are still very active today, the gas stations are quiet. None of the stations in Winchester have received deliveries, and all the regular pumps are empty. A couple of stations are still pumping diesel, but that will soon be out as well if no trucks show up for deliveries.

  “According to our news wire service, early this morning the president declared FEMA as the agency in charge of allocating fuel. We’re not sure what this means right now, but I’m guessing no refined fuel will be moving until they figure out how much the federal government needs. After that, it will probably be rationed to state and local authorities, then to utilities, and the consumer will get whatever is left over.”

  The front door opened, and Ken walked out onto the porch. “Morning.”

  Everett looked over at him. “Good morning. You don’t look so hot with that purple eye, but you certainly do sound chipper.”

  Ken pointed to the swollen purple area just above his cheek. “I’ve got a sweater that will go perfectly with this color.”

  Courtney scrunched her nose to show her displeasure with the boys’ gallows humor. “Did you sleep well?”

  Ken nodded. “As long as I didn’t roll over on this side of my face. It hurts pretty bad if I put pressure on it. Otherwise, it just feels like I’ve got a half-pound of meatloaf glued to my head.”

  Everett’s tone became more sober. “At least you’re alive. It could have been a lot worse.”

  Ken crossed his arms to keep warm in the brisk morning air. “I’m glad Lisa is okay. I’d have never forgiven myself if she hadn’t made it.”

  Everett took a sip from his cup. “You want some coffee?”

  “Yeah, we bought some instant. It’s with the stuff we brought up here the weekend after Jones’s funeral. I’m going to dig around and try to find it.”

  Everett stood up. “We’ve got regular coffee. Wouldn’t you rather have that?”

  Ken looked solemn. “I appreciate you inviting us up here. I don’t know if we would have survived otherwise. I think it’s going to get very messy all around DC. I know you two put a lot of time, effort, and resources into getting things together up here. Lisa and I were going to do a lot more, but we ran out of time. I believed you; that’s why we brought that first load of stuff up here, but I didn’t know it was so urgent. I guess what I’m trying to say is, we weren’t as proactive as you, and I feel bad taking your stuff. Maybe it’s better if Lisa and I try to make it off the supplies we brought up here, so we’re not putting you two in a bad position.”

  Everett felt terrible seeing his friend in this position. “Courtney and I think it would be better if we all share our resources.”

  Ken looked up with puppy dog eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be in a position to repay you. You and I have talked politics a time or two. I know you don’t like socialists. I definitely don’t want to be the cabin version of the entitlement class who’s mooching off of the productive class.”

  Everett started cracking up laughing. “You’re only the entitlement class if you sit around and watch TV all day while I chop wood, cook, clean, and stand guard, all the while expecting your dinner brought to you on a silver platter. We’re in this together. If I though you and Lisa were part of the entitlement class, I’d have never invited you. You’ve never called into work as long as I worked for the company. Lisa worked and made you lunch every day. I know you’re good people and hard workers. Please don’t think of it like you owe us anything. We’ll probably have to start security patrols soon. There is no way Courtney and I could stand guard twenty-four hours a day. We need you guys up here.

  “Besides, for whatever reason, call it fate or my lucky stars, John Jones decided to give me this cabin before he passed away. If it hadn’t been for him, we would be hunkered down in Ashburn or South Laurel. If we have a little more to share, it’s because of him, and I want to pay it
forward.”

  Ken nodded. “You can count on us to pull our weight. Whatever you need, let me know; I’ll do it.”

  Everett could see that Ken was fighting back a tear. He stood and gave him a quick hug. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

  The three of them went back inside where Lisa was folding up the pull out couch.

  Lisa paused from her task. “Good morning.”

  Courtney looked at her injury. “Good morning. How’s that cut on your head?”

  Lisa smiled. “Sore, but it isn’t bleeding. I guess the Super Glue worked.”

  Courtney winked at her friend. “And it didn’t poison you, so I guess I don’t get all your stuff.”

  Lisa laughed. “It’s still early. It might take a day or two to get into my bloodstream and kill me.”

  Courtney helped Lisa put the cushions back on the couch. “You won’t have to keep doing this. We’re going to rearrange the loft so Everett and I can sleep up there. You and Ken can have the bedroom.”

  Lisa put her hand over her mouth. “No way! I can’t let you do that.”

  “Too late. It’s already settled, and I’ve drawn up the design. It’s going to be like the Ritz Carlton up there.”

  Ken looked at Everett. “Are you sure?”

  Everett smiled. “Absolutely. We’re taking the mattress up in the loft, so you still get the hid-a-bed if that makes you feel any better. Let’s get that coffee.”

  Everett poured the remaining contents of the pot into cups for Ken and Lisa and started a fresh batch.

  Courtney disappeared into the loft and returned minutes later with a huge box of generic pancake mix and a half-gallon of artificially-flavored syrup. “Who likes pancakes?”

  Lisa clapped her hands. “This is going to be like a vacation!”

  Courtney read the directions on the box. “Let’s not get carried away. Society is burning to the ground. But, I will say, things could have been a lot worse.”

  Lisa located an iron skillet and a non-stick sauté pan to make the pancakes in. “You don’t mind if I help, do you?”