by Ryan King
Reggie and Janice sat down across from them. "Happy Thanksgiving," they said nearly in unison.
"Happy Thanksgiving to you," said Bethany. She and Janice began to talk together intently about Christmas preparations.
Reggie stared at Nathan for a while. "I can't tell you how happy I am to have you back," he finally said.
Nathan rubbed the brand on his hand absently. "Me too."
Reggie saw the movement. "You're quite the talk around here now. The general who gets exiled into no man's land, finds and rescues his lost son, and then returns with the Paducah refugees and a bunch of Creek Indians. That doesn't happen every day."
"I guess not," smiled Nathan.
"How bad was it?"
Nathan looked over to make sure Bethany wasn't listening. "Pretty bad. We almost got killed on several occasions. I nearly lost my leg and if not for the unexpected and unasked-for kindness of others, we wouldn't be here today."
"Kindness is a powerful thing," said Reggie.
Nathan nodded and looked up when Harold sat down beside him and Butch plopped into a seat beside Reggie.
"Seems like you two have managed to keep yourselves busy while I was gone," Nathan tried to lighten the mood.
"That we have," said Harold solemnly. "Things have changed greatly since you left."
"Is it true that Ethan Schweitzer has offered to extend the ceasefire?" asked Reggie.
Butch nodded. "Originally it was only for Thanksgiving, but now he's proposed that we start peace talks."
"Why would he do that?" asked Nathan. "Seems like he's got us on the ropes."
"He's got his own problems," said Harold. "Those Indian friends of yours are causing a hell of a stir down south. He's got food riots and constant internal strife. Reggie's words struck a chord."
Reggie dropped his head. "Hopefully not too many of them pay as dearly for it as I fear they will."
"If they do, it's not your fault," said Nathan. "This is war and survival. If they don't fight back, they'll get what they deserve. Ethan Schweitzer."
There was an awkward silence for several seconds.
"I remember the last time we celebrated Thanksgiving," said Nathan. "We were just grateful to be here."
"Yes," said Harold his eyes getting a faraway look. "Jim Meeks cooked for us."
"And Clarence Anderson told a boring story about our forefathers," said Reggie with a smile.
"So many good men gone," said Reggie. "Beau Myers, Tim Reynolds, Pastor Lancourt, hell, even Brazen. He was a character."
They had all heard how he died and a heavy silence covered them again.
"This is still better than anything else out there," said Nathan finally. "We've got something special and it's worth fighting for."
A tall elderly woman walked deliberately over to Reggie and put her hand on his shoulder. "Reggie, the food is ready to be served, but no one wants to give the blessing. You simply can't have Thanksgiving dinner without a blessing. Would you please do it?"
Reggie looked around a little nervously.
"Please, dear," said Janice, putting her hand on his arm.
He nodded and stood. After several seconds the room noticed him standing purposefully and the hall became still. Reggie cleared his throat. "I've been asked to give the prayer over this meal. If you wouldn't mind, please bow your heads and let us pray together."
Nathan looked over at David. His son stared defiantly forward before grudgingly lowering his head.
"Oh Lord," said Reggie. "We thank you for the food that you have provided us. For the shelter and warmth and light. We are grateful for the mercy and love you have shown us and know that you walk with us, even when we cannot see you. We live in dark times, but know that your path and your plans are perfect. Help us to trust in you and hear your voice and see your face. Let us be in the world, but not of the world and let us maintain our decency and dignity when the chaos around us is trying to take it."
Reggie paused. "Lord, please bless those today who go hungry and cold and are filled with fear. Lift your people up and help us all to find a way out of this pit we are in. We do not see a way out, but believe that you have prepared a way. Deliver us from this evil, oh Lord, and bring us peace and prosperity.
"Let us not forget those who are not with us. Who have fallen along this long journey. We are grateful for their sacrifices and their friendships. Let them sit beside you in Paradise and we will strive to honor them in our memories.
"Finally, Lord we pray for those who are currently our enemies. Not long ago they were friends and family. Let us all come back together in peace and unity, not through surrender, but by standing by our convictions and beliefs. Heal this land and this people, oh God. Take away our pain, misery, and shame and forgive us for where we have gone wrong.
There was a longer pause and the sound of shuffling feet and whispering children could be heard. "Lord, thank you for our life here. For friends. For the children. For each other. Please bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies. Amen."
"Finally," said someone and light laughter filled the room as people lined up to receive their Thanksgiving feast.
When Nathan looked up, David was gone.
Chapter 7 - Family First
Nathan was able to corner David a few days later on top of the dam during one of the guard shift changes. He had heard that David personally tried to attend all of these to ensure whoever was in charge of that particular watch knew what their responsibilities were and passed on appropriate information. Nathan watched from afar, but when he saw the shift change was over, and David was departing, he moved up to intercept him.
"David, can we talk?" Nathan asked.
"Sure," answered David glancing around. "Is out here fine?" he walked over to the railing that gazed out upon the two great manmade lakes.
Nathan nodded. "It's actually a nice day today." The wind was light and warm sunshine washed over them.
"It'll get worse tonight," David said.
"How do they even know?" Nathan asked. "It's not like they have satellite photos anymore.
David shrugged. "Something about barometric pressures, wet bulb readings, horoscopes, and witchcraft."
Nathan laughed and inched closer on the rail to his son. "Remember when we fought off the WTR forces up here? You opened the sluice gate and sucked in their invasion fleet."
"And pissed a lot of people off too," answered David. "Forced to shut down the dam for weeks. Don't you think after that it's ironic they chose me to come guard the dam?"
"Not at all," answered Nathan. "You're a good man who protects those under his care. You don't turn away from the hard choices. You do what needs to be done."
Looking away, David said, "I guess they told you about that? Someone had to do it. Would it have been better if I had refused and forced someone else to go?"
"No," said Nathan softly. "I'm not here to blame you. It was a tough duty to pull, but you did what needed to be done. I would have done it myself."
David registered surprise. "Really?"
"Of course," answered Nathan. "War is always ugly. There are rarely any clean choices. The only cardinal rule in war is to never lose. Once that happens those you are sworn to protect suffer terribly. You did what you had to do, son, and you did it well."
David didn't answer, just stared down into the water.
Putting his arm around his son, he felt him stiffen at first before slowly relaxing. "You're a grown man now and I'm proud of you. People look up to you and men follow you. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
Taking a deep breath, David let it out slowly. "Thank you." He looked at his father and smiled. "Who would have thought we would be here after all of this?"
"We're alive," answered Nathan. "After N-Day that's all I really hoped for."
"Not happiness?" asked David.
Nathan shook his head. "No. Even in the best of times that's tough to find."
"Maybe that's my problem then."
"What do you mean?"
asked Nathan.
David's mouth tightened then relaxed. "I keep thinking that one day I'll be happy. I mean, I have happy moments every now and then, but I keep expecting one day to be genuinely happy. With someone. Like you and mom."
"I won't deny that we're happy," said Nathan, "but it hasn't always been that way. Besides, we weren't put here to be happy."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't believe that we were created for the purpose of being happy," said Nathan. "We're to strive valiantly all our days, taking the good with the bad, and going to our graves content. That may be our lot unless someone can sacrifice greatly and find a way out of this cycle. Some would even say all we can hope for is to find a good death along the way."
"A good death? I thought you said once that all death was ugly."
Nathan nodded. "It is, but death that fulfills a purpose that saves and uplifts others, it can be noble. We are all assured of dying, but very few give their lives for a worthwhile purpose. What we are doing here, protecting the people here, is a noble purpose. Never doubt that."
David fidgeted and glanced away. "Do you believe what Reggie Philips said, during the prayer?"
"You know I believe in God," said Nathan, "so I'm sure I would agree. I am a little ashamed to admit I was thinking of the food and not paying close attention. You'll need to tell me what part you're talking about."
"He said that although there wasn't a way out of the darkness that we could see, he was sure that God was preparing a way for us. To deliver us. How can he know that?"
"We can't know that factually, but we know it in our hearts," Nathan answered. "God would not have saved this remnant, and brought them this far, simply to destroy us."
"What if there is no god?" David searched his father's face. "What if we are on our own and there is nothing else?"
"That's a terrifying thought isn't it?" said Nathan. "That what's really bothering you? The idea that we are all alone and there is no purpose to any of this."
"I guess so," said David.
"Son, I can't tell you what to believe. You have to figure that out on your own. The reasons I believe are my reasons, they wouldn't work for you. I will tell you that the question is probably the most important one you will ever ponder in your life. Don't leave it unanswered one way or another. Do you understand?"
David nodded. "I think so. Thanks for finding me."
"Any time," said Nathan patting his son's shoulder and turning to walk away.
"Dad?" said David grabbing him by the sleeve. "One thing."
"Sure, what is it?"
David looked around and appeared hesitant before going on. "President Schweitzer has invited the New Harvest leadership to Fulton to discuss a truce. It's not common knowledge, but they plan to go."
"As they should," said Nathan.
"They're going to ask you to go with them," said David.
Nathan rubbed his chin. "Interesting."
"I don't want you to go," said David his face hard.
"Look, David, I know you're worried about me –"
"That's not it," said David. "You and Joshua left. It was just me looking out for mom. She nearly drove herself nuts worrying over you two. She would never say anything, but she needs you now. I did what I could, but it wasn't the same."
"Your mother is stronger than you give her credit for," said Nathan.
"I understand that," David was obviously frustrated. "That's not what I'm saying. She would never tell you anything that would hold you back. Even if it was something that should hold you back."
"Like what?" asked Nathan.
David didn't answer.
"Like what?" Nathan repeated. "Tell me, son."
"Please don't tell her," said David. "She wouldn't forgive me if she knew I'd told you."
"I'll not tell her anything unless I have to," answered Nathan.
David hesitated and finally let out a sigh. "She's almost lost the baby a few times. She's scared. Won't say anything to you because she doesn't want to worry you, but she needs you there by her side until the baby is born. Not off down in Fulton. Let others do that. Your responsibility lies with mom."
Nathan stiffened and grew angry, but then he saw his son's face. He saw how worried and concerned he was and the emotion melted away to be replaced by love. "Maybe you're right. Sometimes you have to put family first."
"So you'll stay with her and not go to Fulton?" David asked.
Nathan nodded. "I'll stay."
"And don't mention any of this to her. Please, promise me."
"Okay, I promise, son," said Nathan. "Does that make you feel better?"
"Lots," said David. He surprised Nathan by giving him a hug. "You know I love you, Dad, right?"
"Why, of course I do," said Nathan hugging him back.
"Good," answered David stepping back. "I better go. I've got to prepare for a mission."
"What mission?"
"I'm to go down and observe the talks at Fulton from an observation post outside of town. Give whoever goes a report of what it looks like before they go in. I'll also everyone here informed of what's happening around the city."
"Sounds like it could be dangerous," said Nathan.
"Not any more dangerous than the hundreds of other missions I've been on," answered David.
"Well be safe, just the same," said Nathan. "Come back soon."
David didn't answer. He just smiled and turned away.
Nathan stood by the rail watching the movement of the water and thinking about his family.
Chapter 8 - The Scapegoat
Vincent Lacert sat on the toilet and felt exaltation. It was time. He pulled the thread out of his jumpsuit that he had previously worked loose. He now used it to tie two overlapping chain links together into one. That would make twelve pairs tied together. If the guards were smart or observant they would notice, but they were neither and Vincent did everything he could to distract them when he was reshackled.
Originally they used handcuffs on him, but he managed to shim the locking mechanism with a small piece of metal and nearly escaped. They next kept him tied up using manacles with a thick chain between them secured by a padlock. Although Vincent probably could have picked the lock given enough time, with his hands behind his back it was just too difficult and he gave up trying to get out of his restraints that way.
After each evening meal, when they allowed him to go to the toilet and not just the urinal, was the only time they unshackled him. Originally they left his hands behind his back, but after several embarrassing and messy attempts by the guards to assist Vincent with his cleanup, they had given up and simply released his restraints. This was also the only time they gave him any privacy. Watchful at first, Vincent had done everything in his power to make them feel sick and disgusted and they now waited outside the closed stall.
A pounding on the door. "Hurry up in there," said James one of his main guards.
"Just a minute," said Vincent. "It's all sliding out nicely now. Be patient."
"Gross," James walked away.
Vincent tied the string around the two overlapping links. He had done this on twelve successive days without them noticing the gradually shortening chain. Calculations told him he needed those twelve extra links. He checked all the other bound links, making sure they were secure. Then he flushed the toilet.
"About time," said his other guard, Kevin.
He rose and pulled his thin drawstring pants up and opened the door.
"Have a good time in there?" James asked.
"I certainly did," answered Vincent. "Maybe you should join me next time."
"Just turn around," said Kevin. "Hands behind your back."
Vincent did as he was told and felt them pulling the manacles together and then stretching the chain out. He pushed his wrists together so as not to strain the thin threads on the links. Then they snapped the padlock on the chain and turned him around.
James was standing there close. "I'm going to be glad when they kill you."
Vincent stared back without speaking. He sensed something was coming.
The guard rammed the butt of his nightstick into Vincent's midsection.
He fell to his knees and retched, trying not to pull on his restraints.
"Come on now," said Kevin. "Let's just get him back to his cell and go have a drink."
"Sure," said James. "Go ahead and get up, you skinny turd. You heard my man there. Back to your cell."
Climbing slowly to his feet, Vincent coughed and shambled before them where indicated. Once in the cell he sat on the thin metal cot bolted to the wall. The cell door closed behind him.
"See you in the morning," said James. "Sweet dreams."
The lights went out and Vincent lay down carefully, thinking about tomorrow.
*******
The next morning when the lights came on, Vincent was sitting up on his cot. James and Kevin came with a tray of food, which they slid through the grating at the bottom of the cell.
"I need to go to the bathroom," said Vincent.
"Tough shit," said James. "Wait until after your meal. You know how this works."
"I can't hold it," said Vincent grimacing. "You told me never to have another accident. I'm going to have one if I don't go."
Both men looked at each other disgusted. Vincent had previously relieved himself in the corner. The men gave him a severe beating, but still had to help clean up the mess.
Kevin sighed. "Let's get him out of there."
"Good God Almighty," said James taking out his keys and opening the jail cell.
Vincent stood slowly.
James slid the door open. "Come on, we don't have all day."
Grinning, Vincent stepped forward and pulled his arms apart behind his back as hard as he could and was rewarded with the feel of the heavy length of chain falling against the rear part of his legs. He brought his hands from behind his back and over his head, and then swung the chain savagely downward.
James watched all of this without moving. His face showed wonder and incomprehension, as if he were gazing upon a magic trick and couldn't understand what was happening. This look remained on his face until the heavy chain smashed across his forehead, caving in the front of his skull. James dropped heavily to the floor.