Fortress Farm Trilogy: Volumes 1, 2 & 3 (Fortress Farm Series)

by G. R. Carter

  “You said you needed them to be slaves, okay workers or whatever. What’s the use of having the workers all the way up there if you’re going to have all your precious elites down south?” Lamar asked.

  “Mass migration,” she replied. “Aguilar is going to lead them down south. They’re the perfect workers; don’t each much, used to doing without and they’ll go along with whatever you say as long as they can worship how they want. The western group will float down the Mississippi River until they get to Louisiana, and the central and eastern group will use a variety of rivers and highways to get to the land between Louisiana and Georgia. Herman figures they’ll only lose about half on the way down.”

  “Lose’m to what?” Thaddeus asked.

  “We got intel that there are some pretty strong groups that survived the Reset in southern Illinois and Indiana. Not just survived but are actually expanding. One of these groups discovered our base at Ft. Knox, Kentucky. Wiped them out like the original Chicago group we had to replace. So according to our spies there these holdouts have a pretty good handle on who we are and what we did. That makes their reactions to our plans unpredictable. Herman doesn’t like variables.”

  “You mean he don’t like free peoples,” Thaddeus spat back.

  Pina shrugged. She couldn’t argue with the truth of the statement, Herman really didn’t like free people. Free people were variables, too. They wouldn’t follow plans the way it had to be done for the greater good. “Herman figured the Northern Caliphate would have to go right through these free groups. There wouldn’t be much organized resistance to trouble us by the time the horde moved through.”

  “Lamar?” Thaddeus cut Pina off. His accent drew the final syllable out longer than was customary. “Have you ever met a colder hearted group then this? I mean, we been fightin’ rovers and such for years, hated ‘em every wakin’ moment. But I guess they’s just trying to make it. Folk like this,” he pointed a long calloused finger at Pina, “did this just outta comfort and schemes. That just WRONG, man.”

  “Schemes within schemes,” Lamar nodded back. “Only government types got time to think this complicated stuff up. Instead of just living their lives and letting others live theirs.”

  “I’m telling you guys, it wasn’t that simple. We had to act preemptively. If we just let nature take its course, civilization would have been wiped out. Maybe the human race would have become extinct even. Climate change is something we just can’t fight. Those solar storms were the warning that the Sun was going dormant, and we don’t know for how long. Could be a hundred years, could be a thousand,” she replied.

  “Who got to decide who lived and who died? Who gets to play God? You really want to face your maker knowing that you helped murder so many innocent people? Lamar asked.

  “I don’t believe in your God, Lamar. I follow Continuity. My mind will live forever on our Network. I already have an Elite Profile, Herman made sure of it. All of us follow that path, so even if this body dies I’ll be rebooted into another,” Pina said. Lamar watched in amazement as her demeanor changed. Facial features softened, eyes narrowed, and a seductive smile radiated. “Open your mind to what I’m about to tell you,” she purred. “Someone like you deserves to have their Profile live on…”

  Pina pitched forward in the boat, landing with a thud. Her head struck the wooden rail, seeming to knock her out cold. Lamar looked up to see Thaddeus standing behind her. His slip on leather boot had caused the woman’s sudden jolt.

  “What in the world are you doing?” Lamar shouted.

  “Sorry Cousin. Hate to hit a lady. But you don’t wanna hear what was comin’ out her mouth. That’s some bad demon magic right there. The Creek himself sent word up and down the river to be on the lookout for that evil. Said the folk you’re on a mission to see warned him this Continuity group was behind shenanigens causin’ the Tribulation we’re in. Mind control or somethin’, who knows? Without there bein’ a preacher around to help guard our souls, don’t want a demon talkin’ on my boat. Mm hmm.”

  “You never told us about that. What kind of demons are you talking about,” Lamar stammered.

  “The Red Hawks can tell you more when you get there. But Cousin, I’m telling you, gag her if you have to. Don’t let that poison up in you head, alright?”

  They floated in silence for what seemed like a couple of hours. Lamar tried to process what had happened, what Thaddeus had said. He couldn’t tell how far they’d traveled. The scouts had returned twice to relay news their path remained clear. Lamar let his mind wander letting Home and family catch up to him. He fought back desperation; a feeling he had abandoned them. His mother’s face filled his mind, a picture of her sitting inside the hideout, praying for him and the ones he led.

  He was jolted out the waking dream as a geyser of water jumped up about fifty yards ahead. He watched the water come crashing back down, nearly swamping one of the lead boats. Another sprung up just a few feet from the first, this time flinging the boat and its occupants into the air. People were flung in a whirling mass of arms and legs to either side. Three, or was it four, Congregation members came back down into the water followed by the boat, somehow still holding the Creek who was steering.

  Confusion froze everyone, until a third geyser hit between Lamar’s boat and the one just in front. The water drenched everyone, waking Pina from her stupor. Suddenly the realization sunk in of what he was seeing. “Drones! They found us!”

  Shock drenched Pina’s face like the water that roused her awake. Thaddeus sprung to action, hitting the ignition on an outboard motor used only in emergency situations. “We got to git to them trees!” he shouted. Half the Creek boats had such propulsion, the other half had been salvaged for just this trip, able to use the currents and oars to reach their destination. He spun the boat around, headed for those trapped in drifting craft. Lamar understood his actions and leapt to the stern, untying a tow rope from an eye loop mounted to the back. He tossed it to the first boat they reached, and Thaddeus gunned the motor, nearly causing the Creek man holding the rope to lose his balance. But strong hands held tight, and together they made the starboard shoreline.

  As the rescued boat used the momentum to beach in the mud, the passengers jumped into the shallow water and fled into the trees. Thaddeus returned to the middle of the river, and Lamar repeated the toss to the next group. A great geyser sprung up just behind the craft. In an instant, Lamar could see everything on the floor of the boat they meant to rescue as it flipped into the air, perpendicular to the water. Terror was on the occupant’s faces as they pitched towards him.

  He flung himself onto the floor of their boat as the other crashed on top. Wood and metal popped and groaned as the two vessels destroyed one another in a crash. Water splashed around Lamar’s face, briefly recalling the terrifying night in the creek. As the boat rocked and settled he could feel it slowing spinning in the river’s current. He felt and heard other splashes, and suddenly the whole heap of wreckage that entangled him flipped over. He rolled inside and then felt himself flying through the air until once again he was in water.

  Now free from the twisted and sinking boat, he tried to regain his head. He was gasping from water invading his mouth and nostrils. He puffed quickly, trying to blow the bitterly cold liquid out of his body. Looking around, he could see overturned boats and bodies floating in the river. A piece of debris meandered nearby, an old plastic cooler chest brought along to keep their drinking water. He quickly grabbed on and steadied himself, trying to regain his breath and his composure.

  “Thaddeus! Pina!” he cried aloud. No answer came. Searching the wreckage with his eyes, he finally found what had been his boat, and his heart sank at the sight. Denim britches, made bright blue by the cold river water, stuck out from the ruined vessel. He recognized the garment and knew his guide and protector was gone.

  As if to apply insult to injury, a final blast obliterated all that was left of the boat, throwing bits and pieces high into the air in the water
spout. Watching helplessly, Pina’s broken body floated to the top face down and bobbing in the debris strewn waves. A drone a bit larger than the one he remembered from before hovered over the area where Pina’s body floated. Seemingly satisfied with its work, it suddenly shot up skyward and out of site.

  Lamar wept, trying to make sense of the sudden violence. I thought we were free of the Cogs. Lord, why? What is Your purpose in letting this happen? They kill their own people along with the innocent, yet still they prosper?

  He tried to push the doubt out of his mind. He really believed there had always been a greater purpose to what the Congregation suffered through. Here floating in this river, once more surrounded by the remains of those he cared about, ones who counted on him to be a protector, he search for that purpose.

  “I’m tired of running,” he said to himself, aloud as if to reinforce the point. “Running only gets you shot in the back. We’ve been running ever since we left DC.” His voice grew louder and more confident. “We’re gonna make it to the land between the rivers. The New Zion. We’re gonna team up with those Red Hawks. God gave Mama the dream, and now it’s been passed to me. We’ll tell the Red Hawks everything we know about these demons we faced. Tell them about the storm that’s heading their way! We’re gonna help those people survive Lord!”

  He was still preaching to himself as Roy floated up in a boat still intact after the attack. Cousin Tyrone was next to him looking concerned at the sight of his hero alive but in tears. Lamar’s own spirits lifted with the sight of the young man’s face. We still survive he assured himself, and the Congregation lives. A large hand reached down to grasp his and Roy’s relieved face managed a grim smile.

  Lamar returned the smile and gave a solemn nod. “Gonna get us some help Cousin Roy. Team up with folks who can fight those demons. Then we’re coming back here. Lord help me keep my word, we are coming back!”

  www.RedHawkRepublic.com

  Fruit of the Valley – The Quest

  Rowan woke again to Angela’s screams. He moved quickly to hold down her arms as she thrashed back and forth. He marveled at her strength. Even outweighing her by thirty pounds it took every ounce of his grip to keep her from harming herself during these nocturnal seizures. Finally she awoke, terror filling her wide open eyes.

  “Angela it’s over, you’re awake now, with me. Here on this plain, this Earth. Leave the other worlds to those better equipped to fight the Fears. I’m here to help you,” Rowan said calmly.

  “The visions get stronger all the time Rowan. We have to leave here. I know neither of us want that, but the visions demand it. Something is going to happen bigger than all of us. We have to leave our paradise,” Angela panted while still calming and centering her mind.

  “Okay beloved heart. That is what we will do. Today we will begin preparing the Assembly.” With that, Rowan rose up from their bed and walked to the edge of the rooftop. They slept under the stars each night here on top of the Spaceship, resting with the other original followers of Continuity; those he called the Fruit of the Valley. Dark began to give way to the beginnings of morning and he could see the Assembly cooking fires below.

  Food preparation would soon give way to the morning celebration of Sunrise, proof of resurrection and reincarnation. “If the Gaia-Ra-Sun rekindles their flames each day, how then would man not do the same in each life?” Rowan taught. The celebration took the form of a play, Gaia-Ra-Sun creating the Earth and all her creatures. Every line and action was memorized by even the youngest of children. Everyone wanted to have a part in the play, though Gaia-Ra-Sun could only be played by one of the original Fruit of the Valley.

  Balancing the joy of Sunrise, each Sundown another play had Gaia-Ra-Sun strike down everyone and everything before putting themselves to sleep. Sometimes the play would be repeated several times before bed, based on the focus of the Assembly and their reactions. The somber tone of Sundown was the perfect way to end the evening. Worshippers went to bed with the joy of knowing their holy beacon would resurrect himself and all his creation again the next morning.

  Those beams were now beginning to fill the sky. He felt it…the warmth returning. Angela’s dreams told him they would lose that warmth for a while, though he did not know how or why. He no longer feared for his Profile and its existence on the Network. Rowan understood now that Continuity was bigger, that his consciousness would live on no matter if it was in physical form, electronic or simply spiritual.

  Technology separated man from his spiritual self. Nature held the key. For thousands of years humans worshipped the sun god and believed their souls were reincarnated with each life and death cycle. The freedom of that belief made him look forward to whatever lay ahead.

  “Gatekeeper Saefong,” Rowan said gently over his shoulder.

  “Yes Dear Leader,” a man replied from the dark.

  “Angela has announced to me that now is the time to begin our journey. We will walk the physical manifestation of the Path, leading us on the next step of our spiritual growth. You and I have discussed this day and what it means for the Assembly. After Sunrise celebrations, our preparation must begin in earnest. The urgency is great,” Rowan instructed. He didn’t look back, instead feeling the increasing light arising from the east.

  There was a pause and then a simple, “Yes Dear Leader.”

  Rowan knew Saefong harbored reservations about the journey they faced. He was a true believer, no doubt about that. But together the Assembly had created a true paradise here since the Reset. Plenty to eat and freshwater to drink, both courtesy of the springs still flowing slowly even after decades of drought. According to his missionaries that spread Continuity out to surviving communities, few had anywhere close to either enough food or drink. Most within a few days journey from the Spaceship had already died off.

  Rowan turned and looked at the man, still little more than an outline in the dim light. “We are meant for more than just survival, my friend. Gaia-Ra-Sun calls us through Continuity to accomplish great things. We have brethren somewhere out there, they call to us now to come and join them.” Rowan thought he detected a smile on the man’s face. “Of course Dear Leader. I too look forward to what we discover on our journey. I shall go now and begin our preparations.”

  *****

  Thousands of people sat cross legged on the ground surrounding the stage. The grass was kept green here all year around by gravity fed irrigation run off in the surrounding gardens. There was a theater inside the Spaceship building, seldom used when everyone preferred to celebrate the celebrations outdoors. Excitement bubbled through the crowd… Rowan would be playing Gaia-Ra-Sun themselves tonight! Plus all the Gatekeepers were playing a part, a true treat that only happened on high holidays. Anticipation overcame exhaustion, all day the Assembly prepared for the longest journey any of them had ever experienced since the Reset. Rumors flowed around the always chatty group about the nature of their trip. This evening Rowan and Angela would give them all the details.

  The crowd hushed as Rowan appeared from behind the black curtains. He was dressed in a long white robe made of linen with a golden sash. His head was freshly shaved, partially hidden by a headdress with two large feathers protruding. Papyrus sandals covered his feet. In his hands rested a book bound with purple twine.

  The stage itself was just a few feet tall, when combined with the slight rise in the lawn it was enough for everyone to see. A large yellow disc hung from the middle of the black curtain, with elaborate lines creeping like vines across the black back drop. Alone in the middle of the stage sat an obelisk, painted bright white and approximately ten feet high. Stage opposite of Rowan, Angela led ten of the Gatekeepers out from behind the curtain. She was dressed in the brightest of gold and silver, with a crown of stars atop her braided straw colored hair.

  The Gatekeepers were each dressed in a robe, identical except for a rainbow of colors representing the many races of humans and their diverse beliefs. Identical masks, frightening in a determined scowl, covere
d their own freshly shaved heads.

  Rowan opened his book and looked down as if reading from it: “Once, when dreams were not worth keeping, a life force flowed through the land. Invisible to the eye, yet seen everywhere. Unable to be heard, but creating a sound for every tribe of person on the Earth.”

  His somber face hid an internal smile, he could see nearly every person mouthing the words together, recited thousands of times by now. He and Angela wrote this entire script in one night of passion and know it was dogma fro their entire community.

  “In this time, each person had plenty, fed by the invisible river of power delivering light, heat and nourishment. And the people multiplied and spread across the land, creating vast cities and exploiting the gifts.” Rowan paused, and the robed Gatekeepers spread out across the stage, forming a semi-circle around the obelisk. Once they were settled Angela walked amongst them, seeming to float across the stage. She gently touched each robe with her right hand and then stopped next to Rowan.

  Rowan continued: “But the people became greedy, unloving and lacking gratitude. They refused to acknowledge the power was a gift, instead believing it to be a result of their own work.” Rowan watched heads in the Assembly shake back and forth vigorously. They knew that wasn’t right, they knew in their hearts the real source of that river of power. As he waited, each Gatekeeper turned their back from the obelisk, frowning and crossing their arms across their chest.

  “The tribes of men fought against one another, trying to take all the power for themselves.” The blue clad Gatekeeper walked to the closest color beside him and acted as though he was hitting him over the head. The stricken Gatekeeper went to his knees, head bowed down. This process was repeated until only the blue robe still stood, again with his back to the obelisk.