by Trent Reedy
That’s exactly the kind of shit President Montaine had said. I knew where this was going. “We’re sort of hoping to get out of the fighting and the promoting,” I said. “You know, get on with our own lives.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Crow agreed. “I can respect that. But what I have in mind would be all about the two of you getting on with your lives. I was talking to Principal Morgan about what we’d do for you once you came home, and we agreed that considering all you’ve done for Idaho and the credits you’ve already earned, you’ve earned your high school diplomas. We’d be honored if you would all participate in the Freedom Lake High School graduation ceremony in a couple weeks.”
“You want us to graduate?” Sweeney’s voice was tight. He was hurting. “The whole cap-and-gown thing, even though me, Becca, and Cal missed the whole second semester?”
“Even though I barely had a senior year?” I said.
“Life experiences are important,” Crow said. “You’ve all learned a lot in the last several months. And like I said to Mr. Morgan, having you all at graduation would be a tremendous morale booster for everyone. Show people we’re rebuilding our society.”
“I don’t know. It seems too late,” I said.
“It wouldn’t be fair to everybody who stayed in school,” JoBell added.
“I’m surprised they’ve kept the school going. I thought it — uunnhh.” Sweeney groaned in pain. “Was mostly a hospital now.”
“Classes have been limited, especially since a few of the teachers abandoned their students to flee to the United States,” Crow said. “But we’ve been keeping on. You remember Jake Rickingson? Well, he’s been helping the school by teaching a new class on good citizenship.”
I’d never been too into school, but Mr. Hornschlager did know a lot about chemistry even if he was boring as hell. Mrs. Stewart had read about every book ever written. Jake Rickingson had probably read less books than me. What made him know how to teach anything? And what exactly was anyone supposed to learn in Brotherhood class?
“If we’re going to build a school system that really prepares people for a better future,” Crow said, “we need people to believe in that system. That’s where you come in. And all you have to do is show up.”
“Come on, guys,” Cal said. “It’ll be great. I had about the worst grades before I left high school and got my education in the real world. I can’t wait to see the look on Morgan’s face when I walk across that stage. Show him what all his books are worth.”
“I’ve spoken to President Montaine about this,” Crow said. “He agrees this graduation would be a real boost. A great way for PFC Wright to serve the cause without getting wrapped up in combat.”
JoBell and I exchanged a look. We both knew what Crow was getting at. “Sure,” I said. “What the hell. I’ll graduate high school.”
* * *
The roads were banged up in a lot of places, and our convoy had to stop a few times while advance scouts made sure the way ahead was clear. Major Leonard checked in at the new Idaho Army outpost at the resort in Coeur d’Alene to pick up another armored Humvee escort and an old school bus filled with an entire platoon. Getting the troops and supplies took forever. The sun had long since come up by the time we reached Freedom Lake.
When we pulled into town, the mountain that had stood to the west my whole life was right where it was supposed to be. I could see the water tower and where we had patched it after it was shot up in the last fight against the occupation.
But in the morning light, most of our view of the town itself was blocked by a giant wall, twelve feet high, stretching out from the road for about a hundred yards to the east and west. Giant steel doors blocked off the road. The Brotherhood must have raided the scrap yards, because a bunch of old vehicles, from pickups to ancient 1990s station wagons, had been propped on their noses and shored up with dirt, cement, or welded scrap to form the wall. I thought I saw the old junked van that used to be parked behind my shop. Some kind of walkway had been constructed out of lumber, logs, and scrap metal so that armed men could patrol the top of the wall, with guard positions set up every hundred yards or so. An anti-vehicle ditch had been carved out of the ground about fifty yards away.
“Mr. Crow?” JoBell said.
Crow held up his hand to JoBell and then keyed a mike on his little radio. “Freedom Lake position one, this is talon actual. Open it up. This entire convoy is clear. Got some reinforcements for you. Over.”
The two giant steel doors began to swing open. “Roger that, talon actual. Welcome home.”
Crow smiled at JoBell. “You wanted to see the best of humanity? You were hoping that people could still work together?”
“What is all this?” JoBell asked.
“Well, you’ve seen the criminal elements out there,” said Crow. “We didn’t have enough men to patrol the whole town, especially at night. Now we just close the gates on the roads, and our town is a lot safer. Soon the wall will be complete, so there will be no way anyone can sneak in and hurt our people. We’ll always know who is coming and going.”
“Is that even legal?” JoBell asked.
Crow nodded. “I know. It’s terrible, right? We just couldn’t think of a better way to guard against the danger out there, at least for the time being. The gates are unlocked during the day, and we open them for anyone who wants to peacefully pass through. If the US military ever tries to invade again, we should be able to hold them off for quite a while with this wall up.”
“What about the lake approach?” I asked.
“We’ve temporarily put up a barrier between town and the lake, but the goal is to build a massive wall all the way around both of them.”
“That would go for miles,” JoBell said.
“Fortress Freedom Lake,” I added.
“That’s the idea,” said Crow. “We’re setting up defenses like this around a bunch of different towns.”
Nathan Crow had Cal drop him off on Main Street at the cop shop they were rebuilding. He told Cal to take us home.
“Nice of Crow to lend you his truck,” I said.
Cal smiled and rubbed the steering wheel. “This baby’s all mine.”
“What?” Sweeney leaned forward and groaned. “Dude, this is like a forty-thousand-dollar vehicle.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve earned some rewards helping the Brotherhood keep people safe from criminals and Fed synth … sympatize … from Fed traitors. And that’s not all. With the danger out there, Becca moved out of your house, Sweeney.”
“Did she go back to her parents?” JoBell asked.
“Not exactly. They were starting to smooth things over, but then her old man said they couldn’t afford to keep feeding Lightning anymore and sold the horse to some farmer who could take care of her. I don’t … It’s complicated. I’ll let her explain that if she wants to. Y’all coming home ought to cheer her up.” Cal pulled into the driveway of a nice brick ranch-style house. “Let’s hope there’s power.” He hit a button and sighed in relief when the double-car garage door opened. I could see Pale Horse inside, my badass armored Humvee ambulance with the turret and gun ports I’d installed myself.
Becca Wells stood next to the vehicle, but she didn’t look like I’d ever seen her before. She wore black combat boots and dark green cargo pants, with a serious knife sheathed on her lower leg. Her big silver “Cowgirl Up” buckle and western belt was replaced by some kind of tactical belt that held a sidearm in a holster. One hand was on her hip, and the other held an M4 pointed at the ground. She stepped out of the garage and looked up and down the street as Cal pulled the truck in. The only thing still Becca about her was the purple butterfly clip shining in her hair.
“You guys okay? How’s Eric?” she asked as soon as Cal shut the engine off and stepped out. Sweeney grunted, opened his door, and started slowly climbing down from the truck. Becca reached out to him. “Let me help you.”
Sweeney waved her away. “I got it. Think I can get out of a truck by
myself.”
“You saw us pull in?” Cal asked Becca.
“Of course. I’ve been up since one a.m. keeping watch,” she said. “Even if I wasn’t on duty, with so few people driving anymore, your big, loud truck is easy to notice.”
“I told you, the Brotherhood is on guard duty for us,” Cal said. “We don’t have to worry about stuff like that anymore. And I doubt anyone would be dumb enough to try anything at my house if they know I’m in the Brotherhood.”
“Your house?” Sweeney asked.
Cal closed the door to his truck and stood up tall. “Yep. I ain’t trailer trash no more. Me and Dad are both moving up in the world. He moved into the house across town that the Huffs’ grandma left behind when she went to the nursing home.” Cal looked down. “You know, after Randy and his family all … Anyway, nobody is coming to claim that house. Be a shame to let it fall apart.” He smiled. “Come on inside. I’ll show you around.” He led us in and gave us a tour of the house, but I’d been up for well over twenty-four hours by that point and was so fried that I couldn’t think straight. Finally, Cal led JoBell and me to a cool, dark basement bedroom. We crashed hard.
—• in immediate proximity to the war or devastation should, when possible, avoid handling human remains. US FEMA and military teams are working hard, continuing necessary mass cremations. The risk of disease from contamination of available drinking water due to radiation or inadequate disposal of human remains is still very high, and everyone should boil water even when it comes from a certified water source.
Citizens are reminded that prolonged viewing of disaster or war footage, particularly by children, can potentially lead to serious negative mental health effects. Some studies suggest that even people not directly affected by combat or by the aftermath of the nuclear explosions can suffer acute stress symptoms. •—
—• Welcome back to normal broadcasting on ESPN. I’m John Soto.”
“And I’m Lindsay Nang. This is MegaSports. On behalf of myself, John, and everyone here at ESPN, we want to express our sadness after the loss of so many and offer our sympathy to all who grieve.”
“Major League Baseball commissioner Joseph Jackson announced today that for the first time in over one hundred years, the American baseball season has been canceled. The commissioner held a press conference from MLB’s temporary headquarters in San Francisco, saying that while sports have long been one of the best ways to bring people together in friendly competition and a celebration of the human spirit, now seems like a time more appropriate to grieving. He also cited safety concerns, pointing out that large gatherings like Major League Baseball games may present tempting targets in these tragically unstable times. NFL commissioner Ronald Goodman is expected to make a similar announcement next week regarding the football season.”
“The players’ reaction to this? First, we’ll talk to Kansas City Royals pitcher •—
—• US Navy official speaking on the condition of anonymity admitted that yesterday, Chinese carriers and warships took a very aggressive posture in the East China Sea over islands also claimed by Japan. The official said that with the US Navy’s increased focus on domestic waters, there is little it can do in response to an increasingly militarized China. Under modern Navy doctrine, US naval forces in the area lack sufficient resources to defend our Japanese allies if the need arose. •—
—• It is our custom here on CNN’s Talk Fire to debate both sides of the issues with commentary from the right and the left. Tonight, with Stacey Covey on the left and Nestor Grimm on the right, as CNN switches from wall-to-wall emergency news coverage to the programming you are familiar with, I, Al Hudson, wanted to take a moment for us all to join together to express our condolences to those who have lost loved ones. Stacey?”
“That’s right, Al. Whether we’re conservative or liberal, Republican or Democrat, we are all devastated by the nuclear attacks and the civil war. I think we can also agree that our country is teetering on the edge of total collapse. Now, Mr. Grimm and I have very different ways of looking at the world, so we’re going to have to try to come to some kind of common ground to find real solutions for saving this country and saving lives. We need to find some unity. To that end, we all watched President Griffith’s speech in Colorado last week, and I was glad to see her taking the necessary steps to restore our democracy. I was particularly impressed by her effort to preserve the party balance in place before the attack.”
“Stacey, you’re only impressed by that because you want the new Senate to still be controlled by Democrats. There are more Republican governors, and if governors appointed replacement senators of their own party, which is their right, then the Senate would shift to Republican control.”
“Nestor, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s just President Griffith trying to preserve the will of the voters.”
“The will of the voters? You can’t just make that up as it suits you. You have to follow procedures. Democrats like Griffith are always bending the rules through executive orders or other means whenever it fits their —”
“She said she realized her request to the governors had no legal bearing. It’s an impossible situation. But can we talk about a bigger problem? For the first time in United States history, we have a serving member of the military, an Army general, in the executive office. Doesn’t this bring us closer to being a military dictatorship?”
“Stacey, this is the first good move Griffith has made in a long time. She needs to show the rebels that there is strong military leadership in the capital. Maybe now rebels will take notice of the real threat posed by serious, competent leadership in the federal government.”
“So President Griffith wasn’t taken seriously before?”
“I don’t think she —”
“Because she’s a woman or because —”
“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to stop you both there. Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t know what’s happened to our security here at CNN world headquarters in Atlanta, but a number of soldiers have —”
“I am General Jonathan Vogel. For the past two and a half years, I have been the commander of United States Special Operations Command. Do not lie to yourselves about who is really in charge at NORAD. General Charles Jacobsen is the acting leader of the United States, and President Laura Griffith has become a puppet. A mouthpiece. I am the commander of SOCOM. I do not waste time or words. Believe me when I say the United States of America no longer exists.
“An order has been issued to redeploy nearly all military assets in the United States to Colorado to support the regime there. In defiance of this order, my allies, operatives, and subordinates have seized control of SOCOM headquarters at MacDill Air Force Base in Florida, Fort Jackson in South Carolina, Fort Benning and Fort Stewart in Georgia, and other smaller military installations. We have command of all military and law enforcement assets in all three of these states. We have secured the allegiance of all ships in Carrier Strike Group Two. All resistance has been neutralized.
“The former states of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida now comprise the new nation of Atlantica. I am that nation’s leader. I do not suffer any delusions of peaceful relations with the so-called United States of America. The criminal regime in their capital in Colorado will attack us, and we will destroy them. We have the best-trained soldiers in the world. We have dozens of Air Force facilities. Our Navy is powerful. Our doctrine is simple: All who oppose Atlantica will die. •—
—• The voice of truth, calling out in the night, to all of you afraid, with no home, clinging with all your might to what was, frightened of what will be. I am the Cliffhanger. Everywhere I go, I see the dispossessed and the forgotten, struggling against the rising tide of war and destruction.
And in these times of uncertainty, when the Cliffhanger dares to tell the truth, who tries to silence him? The same men, the new warlords, who come to all of you saying, “Put your trust in me, and I will keep you safe.” They spread the news of failure and d
anger and sow distrust among you and your neighbors until you’re so desperate, holding on to what little you have today, that you lose any hope you had for tomorrow.
The Cliffhanger has been on the airwaves in this place, this fortress called Atlantica. The Cliffhanger dared to speak up in New England, in Idaho, in Texas, and all over what is left of the United States. Everywhere, the Cliffhanger is hunted. Everywhere, the new leaders try to shut the Cliffhanger down.
They talk about freedom and they promise security, and they ask you to die for their flag. But here’s the truth that all the people must know. This war is the same as the last war and the same as the war before that. It’s another way for the few men who have much, to keep control over the many who have so little.
Don’t trade your future for their empty promises! Don’t sell your children for the scraps from the table of these new warlords who would be our masters. Look for hope from your neighbors. I’m not calling for a fight or advocating revolution. The Cliffhanger asks you to help one another, lower your weapons, and feed not only your own family, but the family of all mankind. •—
As tired as I was, I actually managed to get some sleep for once. Nightmares only woke me up a couple times. Finally, half-dazed, I reached over and felt an empty space where my fiancée had been.
I was fully awake and rolling out of bed in seconds. “JoBell?” I grabbed my nine mil from the nightstand and hurried out into some kind of rec room. Light spilling in from the high basement windows showed a couch, screen, and video game controllers. In the corner, up against the wall, was an impressive-looking bar with three stools. There was even an old pinball machine. I held my gun at the ready. Didn’t we make it to Cal’s last night? Or yesterday? I checked the windows again. Or today? The thing about traveling so much and barely sleeping is that sometimes, after I crashed, I hardly knew where or when I was.