Trevor stood and snapped, “Evan!”
Godfrey, surprised, stopped talking.
Stone calmed and explained, “You’re not hearing me. You’re not listening, Evan. I didn’t call you in here to get your opinion. I have to go through that town, one way or another. Do you understand? We’re beyond the point of no return. Either he lets us pass or we push through.”
Dante chimed in, “When you say push through, you mean a fight. You mean we’re going to shoot up other humans.”
“Oh,” Godfrey nodded as he came to understand. “I get it. You think I can be more persuasive. You think I can trick him into letting us through.”
“ Convince him,” Trevor corrected. “Convince him that it’s in his best interest. Make sure he knows I have no choice. Promise him whatever it takes-food, fuel, medicine-whatever. But Evan, make sure he knows that if he doesn’t let us pass I must send the army in there. Tanks. Guns. Make sure he knows I will have to do that.”
Godfrey nodded, “You want me to convince him that all the blood will be on his hands. That the decision is his and his alone. You want your conscience to be clear, is that it?”
“Damn it, Evan! For once, can you see the big picture? Can you see the position we’re in?”
Evan fell quiet again.
Stone asked, “Will you do this?”
Evan stared at Trevor. He stared at him waiting in anticipation of the word he needed to hear. Trevor understood and made the concession.
“Please.”
“I can only imagine,” Evan said seriously. “How hard that was for you.”
“Not as hard as sending my men to kill other human beings.”
“Okay then, I’ll go to New Winnabow. I’ll try and convince them to let us through. “
“What does this have to do with me?” Dante asked.
Trevor swallowed his pride again.
“I’ve been on your case a lot, Dante. One thing hasn’t changed, though. I trust your judgment. I’m thinking maybe you can help figure out what it will take.”
“And our intruder?”
Trevor waved a hand and told him, “Leave it to your lieutenant. What’s his name? Roos?”
“Yeah. Ray Roos.”
“He can handle it,” Trevor said in what sounded to Dante’s ears as the closest his old friend would ever come to an apology.
“When do we leave?” Evan asked.
“Now.”
On Friday, August 28, while Nina Forest and the Hunter-Killers battled a Shadow and Stonewall McAllister’s forward elements moved to within twenty miles of the South Carolina border, Evan Godfrey arrived with Dante Jones on the outskirts of New Winnabow.
“As they used to say in the old days,” Robert Parsons said as he greeted the newcomers. “If I had a nickel for every tour I gave of our town, I’d be a rich man.”
Evan shook his hand, saying, “Fortunately, nickels are not the most important currency of our new world. My name is Evan Godfrey; this is Dante Jones. We are members of the council of our…our…”
Parsons finished for the man, “Your Empire. I see that word does not slip easily from your lips.”
“It is not a word I like. You must be Robert Parsons. Chief of the New Winnabow council.”
“Yes,” he said. “My people elected me. How about you, Mr. Godfrey?”
“I’m afraid I was appointed. If it means anything to you, I wish it were otherwise.”
The group moved away from the Eagle airship that had delivered the two representatives. Both Evan and Dante entered the town unarmed and without escort.
“So tell me, Mr. Godfrey. Why are you here?”
Dante Jones decided to join the conversation, “We’re here to find a solution to our problem.”
“It is not my problem, Mr. Jones. I hate to be so blunt but we are not associated with this in any way. We did not ask for your armies to come along the road.”
“I am afraid, sir, that it is your problem,” Dante corrected. “You need to understand that.”
“My friend is right, Mr. Parsons,” Godfrey agreed. “As is true in so much of life, we don’t always get to choose our problems. They choose us. I don’t know how much weight this will carry, but I am against the actions of my military. I oppose the plan they are executing. I oppose the demand that they go through your town. If it were up to me, I would turn those armies around and never return to New Winnabow.”
They reached the town proper and walked amidst the population. Some of those people carried baskets of bread baked in brick ovens; the aroma stirred the appetite. Others led livestock, one man pushed a wheelbarrow packed high with building materials.
Evan tried to dive into business, but the sight and sounds of New Winnabow took him by surprise. It had been one thing to hear the town described, another to see it in action. The more he saw, the more New Winnabow resembled the vision Evan held for the future of humanity. A far cry from the path of Trevor Stone.
“What do you think of our hamlet, Mr. Godfrey?” Parsons asked as they rounded a corner. A group of children ran by playing tag.
“This is…you have built something amazing here.”
“You might appreciate this,” Parsons directed them toward the arena in the middle of town.
“Wow, pretty impressive,” Dante said as he took in the sight of the outer walls that stood five stories tall.
“You built all this, by hand?” Godfrey wondered.
“For the most part, yes,” Parsons answered. “But out of necessity, not desire. We do not shun technology. However, we try to avoid any dependence on fueled vehicles or machines. That’s because we know our access to fuel is very limited, so why get used to something that will be gone in the near future?”
“Makes sense to me,” Jones remarked.
Parsons led them into the amphitheater. They moved through a tight, dark tunnel, rounded a corner, and then emerged in the stands of the stadium.
Bleachers surrounded three quarters of the complex, all focused on a large stage. A round, well kempt grassy field occupied the center of everything. On that particular day, a dozen people sat in folding chairs on that lawn, facing the stage.
In its entirety, Evan guessed the stadium could easily hold five hundred people, perhaps more.
A woman stood on the stage and addressed the people in the seats.
“The militia cannot react quickly to all threats! Therefore, it only makes sense that individual households be permitted to keep firearms! This is a reasonable…”
A collection of both boos and applause came from the crowd. The woman continued to state her case in a passionate voice.
Parsons smiled and said, “This is our society at work, Mr. Godfrey.”
“ Evan, please.”
“Evan, here we have a group of citizens debating issues of importance to our community. They are trying to influence opinion on these matters. Eventually they might bring these views to the council’s attention so we can draft a referendum.”
Evan almost drooled as he surmised, “You let the people vote on the laws?”
“Not every law,” Parsons replied. “We have a basic charter that outlines the parameters of how we want to live. Our constitution, if you will. In this case, our charter does not allow for the possession of firearms in individual households. Advocates for a change on this issue can present their case to all those who will listen.”
“Just like the old days,” Evan said. “Change the minds of the people, then try and change the laws. Splendid.”
“Gee Evan,” Dante spoke in nearly a whisper, but loud enough for his comrade to hear. “A political rally. Why look, it’s the National Rifle Association of New Winnabow. Wonder if they employ any lobbyists?”
A woman sitting in the crowd of listeners spotted the group, rose to her feet, and ascended the stairs at a fast trot. Her approach pulled Evan’s attention from the debate.
The woman stopped a step lower than the group and spoke to Parsons. “What is this? More mercen
aries? What a brave Emperor, sending his lackeys to do what he couldn’t accomplish. Tell him we will not be intimidated. “
“It seems, Sharon, I am spending far too much time insisting that you calm your voice. We will not be intimidated, but we will also not forget our manners.”
“Father, you are wasting too much of your precious time welcoming guests from this phony Empire. Let Billy Ray turn them away next time. You should be tending to your office.”
Parsons sighed, “Please forgive my daughter. She is full of fire.”
“Yes,” Evan said, staring. “I can see that.”
“But she is also right,” the elder admitted. “I do have responsibilities. Besides, you will wish to address the council no doubt?”
Dante answered because he was not sure Evan heard the question. “Yes, we would. As soon as possible.”
The Chief Councilman turned to his daughter and told her, “You’re right, Sharon. I do have much to do. I also have to gather the council to hear the words of Mr. Godfrey and Mr. Jones. So I’ll tell you what, you give these two gentlemen the tour. Show them what New Winnabow is about. Tell them, Sharon. Tell them about you.”
“Father, I have no intention of-”
“Sharon, we all must contribute in order for our community to survive. In this case, you might be able to help more than you imagine. Tell Mr. Godfrey and Mr. Jones everything you can about us. Perhaps then they will go away and only return when they desire to join us.”
Sharon groaned.
Robert Parsons smiled, “It is settled then. I will gather the council. Let us plan that meeting for after the dinner hour. That is, if you men can spare the time to eat with us?”
Jones, again, answered for them both, “Yeah, I mean, if you’re going to have some of that bread, count me in.”
Parsons moved off, exiting the arena and leaving the men with his scowling daughter.
Evan smiled and tried to speak, “Well, Sharon-”
“That’s Ms. Parsons, to you.”
“Well, Ms. Parsons,” Evan started. “What can you tell me about New Winnabow?”
Sharon Parsons did not smile or string more than five words together at a time during the first two hours of the tour, despite Evan’s incessant questions.
“Do your farmers have problems with insect infestations?” he asked when shown the large wheat field to the west of town.
“How many cattle do you have?” he wondered when they toured the animal hostels to the southwest of the village.
“Do you have a monetary system?” he inquired after visiting a ‘downtown’ woodshop.
“Sometimes,” “more than one-hundred,” and “no,” came her curt answers.
At some point during the second two hours her disposition improved, a little. That is, her answers stretched longer and came more willingly.
She took them to see a barn full of hand-operated grain grinders, then they visited a weaving room for fabrics, and then a workshop for melting and recycling metals.
With each new sight, Evan grew further impressed with New Winnabow.
As late afternoon gave way to early evening, Sharon introduced the two men to Tory, her six-year-old boy, when she stopped at a babysitting center to get him.
On their way through downtown, Dante and Evan heard the call of mothers and fathers summoning their families for the evening meal and the half-hearted protests of children who wanted “just one more minute” or complained “but it was my turn to hide!”
Alluring aromas drifted from open windows, aromas of meat roasting and stews bubbling. The visitors overheard the sounds of family conversations, gentle laughter, and scolding parents.
Sharon led Dante and Evan to a large building on the edge of The Commons area at the heart of New Winnabow. Robert Parsons occupied the second floor of a wood and brick structure a few doors from the council chambers. Big beautiful windows in the living room, dining room, and kitchen area offered views of the rooftops surrounding their home, the large arena, and the distant sky over a forested horizon.
Robert Parsons sat at the head of the table with his female friend of similar age (his wife died in the Apocalypse) to his left. Sharon and her son Tory, Councilwoman Elizabeth Doss, and Gunther Faust-an older, frail-looking councilman-also welcomed Dante and Evan to dinner.
On the table waited a feast, starting with warm loafs of bread complimented by creamy hand-churned butter, beans, corn, and fresh-caught catfish.
Light came from lamps and candles but some August sun still slipped in the windows.
Robert Parsons explained they usually did not start their meals with prayer or ‘grace,’ but he thought this to be a special occasion and asked Evan Godfrey to do the honors.
Evan cleared his throat, and then spoke as if he had been preparing for this moment for three weeks.
“Let us give thanks to the hands and hearts that toiled so that this table could be blessed with such a rich bounty. May our fellowship here this night be the start of a greater understanding between our people. May we find the peace in our own hearts that we all long to feel. Amen.”
Oh, very good, Evan, Dante thought. Non-denominational, not even a reference to God-and just a hint of sucking up.
“Here, here,” Gunther Faust spoke quickly in a German accent.
The platters of food as well as pitchers of juice and water circumnavigated the table. Plates clinked, glasses tinged and silverware jingled as arms reached and scooped.
Dante closed his eyes and drifted into the past. Those sounds conjured vivid memories of Sunday evening dinners at his grandfather’s house. Sunday evening dinners long before Shadows, Deadheads and Hivvans.
“So what have you learned about us, gentlemen?” Parsons asked.
Evan answered as he slipped a filet of fish to his plate. “I’ve learned that this town is full of ingenuity, hard work, and honesty.”
Dante said, “You should be proud, Mr. Parsons. New Winnabow would be a big deal even before Armageddon. I envy you.”
Sharon said with a hint of sarcasm, “They don’t eat bread and fish in your Empire?”
“We eat bread and fish,” Evan responded. “But we seldom have the time to sit down with one another and truly break bread like this. The pace is…the pace is much faster.”
Dante added, “The war and all.”
Gunther Faust addressed the two men as he buttered a slice of bread. Dante saw the man’s hands tremble as he worked the knife.
“Tell me, Mr. Jones, of your Empire’s great victories.”
“I don’t want to hear anything about their Empire,” Sharon interrupted.
Robert Parsons encouraged, “Our visitors have learned much of us. It is fair to hear of their world. Of course, we could do without the more gruesome details.”
Dante realized this presented an opportunity. When Evan did not respond, he did.
“Leaving out the gruesome details would leave out the most important parts of what we’re doing, and why. The truth is it’s pretty damn gruesome out there.”
Evan shot a glance at Dante and broke in, “But I’m certain we can paint a picture without being too graphic.”
Dante understood the message: I’m in charge down here. Don’t get in my way.
Dante steadied his temper and reminded himself that, yes, Trevor had placed Godfrey in charge. Instead of arguing, he grabbed a fork and attacked the lightly seasoned catfish.
Evan told the table, “It began in northeastern Pennsylvania. The battles…” his eyes drifted off as if recalling something from the distant past. Dante nearly applauded Evan’s act as the war-weary soldier. “…too many to count. With every victory, our boundaries grew wider and we found more people. A few had built colonies but nothing like this. Most were diseased or starving or both. They welcomed us with open arms and eagerly joined on.
“We found remnants of the U.S. military, opened factories to build bullets, discovered military stock piles…it was strange to find so many weapons unused. It was as i
f the U.S. military didn’t get a chance to fire many shots during it all.”
Sharon Parsons stood, placed her cloth napkin on her crowded plate, and left the room.
Evan’s act of fond remembrance evaporated and his eyes widened.
“I’m sorry, what did I-?”
“It is okay, Evan. It isn’t your fault,” Sharon’s father explained. “Sharon’s husband-Tory’s father-was a Marine killed during the fighting.”
“My Dad was a hero!” Tory exclaimed but his attention focused on a huge slice of fresh bread dripping with gooey butter.
“So you found many weapons, yes?” Gunther asked.
“Excuse me,” Godfrey said and stood. “I think I have an apology to make.”
“That is not necessary,” Parsons insisted.
“I think it is.”
Evan walked out of the room tracing Sharon‘s steps.
Dante continued the story, without any sense of drama. “We found lots of weapons. Then we found the means to build what we needed. Some of that came from old industry, some from alien technology we grabbed.”
“Air forces? Tanks?” Gunther craved the knowledge yet every answer seemed to fill the man with more fear. His eyes widened, his hand trembled more.
“Equipment for entire divisions parked on bases,” Dante told them. “Armories still locked and convoys of unused supplies. We only have a few planes because we don’t have many pilots, but we have a flight school going, every few weeks we can put another plane or two in the air. Fact is we found hangers full of fighter jets and fuel from the Pennsylvania and New Jersey National Guard.”
Elizabeth Doss said, “As if they were meant for you to find.”
“No,” Dante corrected. “They were there because the soldiers and pilots they were meant for never received the proper orders. The bureaucracy failed our troops while the aliens appeared everywhere out of thin air. There was little time to muster and organize. It wasn’t our troops who failed us, but a disorganized chain of command.”
Robert Parsons nodded. “So that is why you are an Empire? One Emperor controlling it all. No chains of command to be thrown into chaos. No confusion. One man in charge, one man making the decisions.”
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