by Steven Bird
“Why did he have to make it so complicated?” asked Daryl.
“Just remember, the occupiers have stepped up their game. Keep in mind what they did to Mildred’s cattle. Imagine if they caught wind of our meeting and knew where it was going to be. Our entire local militia force could be wiped out in one strike.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Daryl replied. “So how much further do you think it is?”
“From what I’ve worked up, it should be just a half mile more due east from our current position. It looks like it’s gonna take us alongside the river. It’s about a half mile or more outside of Del Rio to the west, around the river’s bend.”
“That would make sense. They would probably want the ease of travel down in the valley. The river is the lowest point in the bottom and there is lots of good tree cover along the banks. Not to mention the railroad tracks and Old River Road for folks to get in and out on,” added Evan.
“There are a few old houses along the river, too,” said Daryl as he thought about the area. “Some of which weren’t really occupied even before the collapse. I know of a few fishermen who kept up old, run-down houses or shacks along the riverbank to keep their boats and fishing supplies in. Sort of a deer camp for fishermen. They weren’t fit to live in, but were suitable for their intended purpose. They could slip their little johnboats into the river directly behind the house and wouldn’t even have to worry about hauling them anywhere. One of those places would be perfect. Most of them were hidden well into the trees, as they didn’t keep up a lawn or anything.”
“That makes sense.” Jason studied the map. “Let’s keep going this way just a bit further,” he said, comparing his compass to their estimated position on the map.”
They proceeded down a thickly forested hillside, using caution and taking it slow, as visibility was poor, to say the least. As they reached the bottom of the hill, Daryl said, “That’s the river up ahead. We just have to cross this clearing, the railroad tracks, and then the clearing on the other side that goes up to the edge of Old River Road. Right on the other side of Old River Road is the tree line. If we’re assuming it’s gonna be in a wooded area, it’ll be over there.”
“That’s got to be it,” Jason said. “Unless, of course, I got it all wrong.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Evan said as he nudged his horse forward, with Jason and Daryl following closely behind.
As they crossed the first clearing, Daryl said softly, “I’m sure glad it’s a cloudy night. The moon would light us up out here, otherwise.”
“Yeah, I just hope it doesn’t rain,” Evan replied. “It would be a long ride back in those dark woods in the middle of a rain storm. It’s kind of lookin’ like it might just do that,” he said, looking up at the sky while holding his hand out in search of raindrops.
As they crossed the tracks and approached the tree line that followed the contour of the river, a voice in the darkness said, “Identify,” in a firm manner, followed by the sound of a metallic click.
“We’re here to see a friend,” Jason quickly replied.
“Who’s your friend?” the voice then asked.
“Ignatius Johnson,” Jason replied.
“What?” Evan asked.
“Hey, I told you before; I don’t make this stuff up. They do.”
“You’ll find him just up ahead. Good to see you guys,” the voice said in a much more welcoming tone.
“Same to you, brother,” Jason replied as they continued into the woods.
Just up ahead, they came upon an old run-down house hidden amidst the trees and brush, just as Daryl had described, with several men standing around chatting. “Well, hello, there,” one of them said. “I’m Sam Jones. Nice to meet you.”
“Hello, Sam,” Evan answered as he, Daryl, and Jason dismounted their horses. “I’m Evan Baird,” he said as he reached out to shake Sam’s hand. “And these two gentlemen are Daryl Moses and Jason Jones. We heard our presence was requested.”
Before Sam could answer, they heard a familiar voice call out, “Thank God, you boys made it!”
“Quentin!” Evan said, giving him a hug as he walked up to them. “Man, we sure were glad to hear you made it out of the cave that day. What about Carl? Is he...”
“Carl’s fine,” Q answered quickly. “He’s inside, actually. A few of the gentlemen out here are gonna stand watch while we have our meeting. We’ve also got a few fellas posted a mile in each direction for early warning. They're watching the roads and the skies.”
As the men began to walk inside the house, Evan said, “Oh, and, by the way, this is Daryl Moses. He’s one of our fellow homesteaders, and to be honest, none of us would be alive without him.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Daryl said out of modesty.
“I know it to be a fact,” added Jason. “On more than one occasion, to boot.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Daryl,” Q said, reaching out his hand. “Please, call me Q.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Daryl responded, returning Quentin’s handshake.
“Come on in, gentlemen. We’re just about to get started,” Quentin said as he led them inside.
Entering the room, Evan looked around to see at least twenty other men, representing every age group, from their early twenties to their late sixties. He recognized several of them as the guards to the entrance to town; Evan’s group had been temporarily stopped by them on their way to see Pastor Wallace during their failed supply run. Then across the room, he saw Tyrone Gibbs. Tyrone’s face lit up when he saw Evan and Jason, and he hurried across the room to meet them.
Evan reached out his hand, but Tyrone smacked it away and gave him a hug, lifting him off the ground. He then grabbed Jason in the same manner, and said, “I thought I would never see you guys again. Thank you. Thank you so much for everything you did. We had no idea you would actually go after and rescue Sabrina like you did. That was... well, I have no words. You guys...” He paused to wipe the tears from his eyes.
“I feel like I’m missing out on one hell of a story here,” Quentin said.
“Yes, sir. You are,” Tyrone replied, regaining his composure.
“It’s nothing, really,” Evan said, trying to downplay the situation.
“That’s nonsense. You guys risked your lives for a total stranger. I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay. Where are the others? Where are Ed and Nate?”
“A lot more happened after you saw Charlie and Jimmy, when they dropped off Sabrina at the church. We had a run-in with the UN troops and were separated. We’ve not seen them since. Every day we wake up hoping to hear any news to give us something to go on. But if we can make it back, they can too, so we haven’t lost faith.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tyrone replied in a defeated tone. “I’ll keep them in my prayers. So far, or at least lately, God has been good to me. Maybe he’ll grant me one more favor.”
“Where’s Pastor Wallace?” asked Jason.
“He’s back at the church standing watch. He’s one of our early warning posts for the meeting. He has a radio to let us know if trouble rolls into town while we’re all here,” Tyrone explained.
“Time to get down to business, I guess,” said Quentin as he walked to the front of the room. “Gentlemen, I’d like to thank you all for coming. If any one of your trusted friends or family members couldn’t make it here tonight, please pass along the basics of the meeting, but not the specifics of any particular plan or idea unless they are going to be involved personally. Is that understood by everyone? We can’t risk compromising the rest of the group if someone who stays behind is taken and interrogated.” Pausing for a moment, Quentin looked around the room to see that everyone was in agreement, and then continued.
“As you already know from the JADAM we sent out, UN forces are moving up Highway 70, towards Hot Springs. Our intelligence folks tell us they aim to continue on to Del Rio once they’ve secured Hot Springs and its outlying areas. They app
ear to be in possession of some sort of intelligence as to who may be affiliated with a militia group, as several of our own were taken from their homes, a few of whom were killed when they attempted to resist. Needless to say, if you’re taken, don’t expect your wives and children to be treated in a respectable manner. Several of us around here can already attest to what can be expected after a run-in with them,” he said as he looked at Carl. Carl nodded in affirmation of what he had said.
“How they got this information, we don’t know, but each and every one of us here tonight has to play it safe and assume we’re on the list, which means you and your families are not safe. You may have already noticed an increased level of airborne surveillance in the area, as well.”
One of the men in the back of the room stood up and said, “Damn straight! They buzzed my place just yesterday with two big helicopters. It took everything I had in me not to try and shoot them out of the sky.”
“I would highly recommend against that,” Quentin replied. “None of us would stand a chance against a Hind. As tempting as it may be, you had better have respect for the capabilities of those things, or you’ll find out the hard way.”
Evan raised his hand and added, “For those of you who don’t already know, Mildred Thomas’s farm was attacked by the very same Hinds. They flew over the farm in formation and then split up, one seeming to provide cover for the other while it did its dirty business. The lead helicopter opened fire with its machine gun on her herd of cattle, completely wiping it out. It was a total slaughter. Not one cow that was in the pasture was spared. Luckily for her, she had several milk cows in the milking parlor, but they are now all she has left. Those cattle were feeding a lot more than her household, and those bastards knew it. They intentionally hit our food supply, and hit it hard, to shut down our independent way of life. Don’t think for one moment that will be the last time such a thing happens, either.”
After a moment of distress-filled conversation in the room, Quentin regained control of the meeting and said, “Gentlemen, that’s exactly what we are here to talk about. Since the attacks that brought our country to its knees first occurred, most of us, and rightly so, have hidden ourselves away in the hills to provide for and protect our families, only coming out to hunt or fish to get what we need, but mostly, we’ve kept to ourselves.
“We can’t do that anymore. We can’t just hide out and wait for them to pass. It’s not going to simply pass. The Blue Ridge Militia, along with the other militia groups that make up the Southern States Defensive Alliance don’t intend on allowing our way of life to be steamrolled by the UN, or any government or organization that thinks we are ripe for the picking. Militia groups and guard units in the constitutionally loyal states have been stepping up their resistance. There have been several major operations in Texas, Arizona, Idaho, and Kansas that have knocked the occupying forces on their butts.”
“Unfortunately,” he continued after a few cheers went through the room, “this isn’t something that’s going to be won with one decisive battle or one grand achievement. They have the upper hand in equipment and organizational might, but we have what the soldiers who fought under Washington had; we have the fire in our hearts, and souls of men who were born free and for damn sure aren’t going to just roll over and let that freedom be taken away.
“The soldiers they bring with them are nothing more than mercenaries working for a paycheck. We, however, are fighting for our homes, our families, our country, and our American way of life, which has been the shining beacon of hope for so many people since the nation’s inception. We will out-will them. We will out-fight them. We will out-smart them. We will wear them down, we will beat them, and we push them into the ocean if we have to, in order to get them off of our lands.”
Looking around the room, seeing the fire in the eyes of the men who were present, Quentin said, “This is going to be dirty and ugly. Many of us, if not all of us, will lose everything that we have, including our lives. There’s never been a war, no matter how just, where the good and the innocent didn’t suffer. Many, if not most, of the original patriots who fought to secure our independence during the Revolution, lost their lives or nearly everything they had for the cause.
“But my friends, my brothers, this isn’t just a political cause. This isn’t a national cause. If we stand up and fight to keep the tyranny that is sweeping the nation from taking over, we are fighting for our children’s future. I, for one, don’t want my grandkids to look back on this time in history as the time that America—once the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave—simply gave in to the powers that be.
“I want them to look at this time in our history as the time that we reaffirmed our place in this world as a country of free men and women, who no matter what your race, ethnicity, or background, stood together, and not only said no, but shouted ‘HELL NO!’ to the tyranny of big government collectivism, and stood up for the freedoms and liberty of our unalienable, God-given, individual rights.
“I want them to be reminded by this time in history, that as Americans, we shall not be ruled by anyone! We are free! We will only allow ourselves to be governed by those we choose freely and by the laws that we accept. Should our grandchildren or great-grandchildren ever face such a foe, I want them to look back on us and be able to take strength and confidence from our actions—that no matter how great the odds are stacked against them, we, as Americans, shall always stand together and prevail against tyranny. Let our actions be a warning to any who may wish to try, that they will not win, but will die on our soil.
“We must resolve, as Americans, all across this nation, to stand up in every single city and town, and show them that the world’s largest and most powerful army does not need a uniform or equipment; it only needs the fire of freedom that burns within our hearts to prevail. We, the people of the United States of America, are our own army and are a force that simply cannot be overcome, so long as we stand together in the name of freedom!
“Let this be our common resolution, to stand side by side and face whatever may come so that our children can live free!”
The room immediately exploded with the applause and cheers of every man present as emotion swept the room. Evan looked over and watched Daryl wiping a tear from his eye. Evan smiled at him and nodded, as they completely agreed without having to say a word.
Quentin cleared his throat and then motioned to the crowd to let him continue. “I’m going to go ahead and assume that means most of you are onboard,” he said with a smile, causing cheers to erupt once more. “Okay, okay, so here is the plan that we have so far. You all know that the Blue Ridge Militia is separated into different operating areas. We are designated as Area Three. Counting the people in this room tonight, we have around forty fighting-aged individuals in our area. Each area has been tasked by retired Marine Corps Colonel Tucker Johnson, who is currently our militia commander, with a specific role to play over the next week.
“It is our understanding that the other militia groups, as well as the constitutionally loyal guard units throughout the Southeast and the Mid-south will be doing so as well. This coordinated effort will overwhelm the occupiers in our region, as they do not have the manpower or equipment to take us all on in all areas at the same time, putting them on the defensive and preventing them from being able to respond to each of our actions.”
He then pointed to a large map of the local area that he had hung on the wall behind him prior to the meeting. “The convoy heading our way is expected to hit Hot Springs by tomorrow. The town has been evacuated in anticipation of this, with most of the residents bugging out to the mountains in the surrounding area. With this in mind, they should pass through Hot Springs fairly quickly, as the resistance will be virtually non-existent.”
One of the men stood up and asked, “Why aren’t the militia personnel in the Hot Springs area putting up a resistance?”
Quentin answered, “Good question. First of all, they didn’t get the lead time that we did as t
o the UN’s arrival in their town. They had just enough time to get their families out of harm’s way, and really didn’t have time to mount a formal counter-assault or ambush. They are, however, going to be working in concert with us, as I will get to here in just a moment.
“So, anyway, as our intelligence has stated, their plan is to continue to work their way up Highway 70 toward us, possibly making their way as far as Newport, where they may potentially link up with another UN operational unit moving toward the Knoxville area, that has been working its way up Interstate 75 from Atlanta. That force is said to be much larger.
“The Volunteer Militia out of Middle Tennessee, as well as the remainder of the Tennessee National Guard, are slated to pay them a visit on their way through, the specifics of which, I am not privy to for OPSEC reasons.”
Quentin pointed back at the map. “Most of the remaining residents in the Del Rio area live on the south side of the river. Highway 9, on the north side, has been a hostile area, with it being the main thoroughfare for people transiting the region from Tennessee to North Carolina and vice-versa. Our plan is to pinch them in once they get across the French Broad River via the Wolf Creek Bridge and onto Highway 9, attacking them where they are most geographically vulnerable, as well as keeping the ensuing battle on the unpopulated side of the river. The terrain will be to our advantage, giving us the position of elevation to rain down fire upon them from the hill, as well as limiting their escape route to the bridge itself.”
“What’s to keep them from just turning around and heading back across the bridge once we engage?” one of the men asked.
“We’ve gotten our hands on several former U.S. Army M136 AT-4 anti-tank weapons. With one positioned on the south side of the bridge, and two on the north, as soon as any attempt to reverse course is made, we will use the M136s to turn several of their own vehicles into roadblocks on the bridge.”
“What about if they just hammer down and blast on by us, continuing toward Del Rio? How will we stop them from going that way?” the man asked.