World War III - Home Front: A Novel of the Next American Revolution - Book One – As Day turns to Night

by William C. Seigler

  I got up and retrieved the cups while Red put out the cream and sugar. It hit me how ordinary this scene looked, classic Americana, three friends having coffee, nothing out of the ordinary. However, the police state we had descended into was the new ordinary.

  We sipped our coffee in silence for a while. Red got a local television channel on her phone and stuck in an ear piece.

  “I assume your people are on the police and fed channels,” Ricki said.

  “Yeah, in fact I go on duty before too long.”

  “I don’t know how long we’re going to be able to leave the local cops out of the fight,” I said at last.

  “Not long if they kick in the wrong door,” Ricki said.

  “They’re creating the very situation they say they’re trying to prevent,” added Red.

  “I can’t see just sitting around waiting for one of them to get lucky,” I said.

  “What do you have in mind?” asked Red.

  “I wonder if command would be interested in an assault on some sort of facility, you know something that will have them looking over their shoulder.”

  Ricki laughed. “You mean while they’re off kicking in doors we go and burn down the poʹ-lice officer station?”

  “Something like that. Take action, be proactive,” I continued.

  “My guess is that Rico and the other commanders have thought of that,” added Red.

  “At the very least, maybe we could get into position to support one another,” I said.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Red.

  “If we had some idea where the cops were working we could position people where they could respond faster.”

  “We need to take out their helicopters,” intoned Ricki.

  “Get proactive?” I responded.

  “Yeah, like you said.”

  “Why worry too much about where they’re looking? If we could get even a few people set up near where we’ve got escapees located, we would be in a better position to respond,” said Red.

  “If we have people sitting in parked vans or on the street at all, they might be found by police and make the situation even worse,” said Ricki.

  “What about several of us hanging out at the nearest house where one of our people live?” I offered.

  “That might work for a while until they wear out their welcome,” Red added with a laugh.

  “Anytime we move, if we’re armed, we risk capture,” said Ricki.

  “We’re not real useful shooting with our fingers,” I said making a pistol of my hand.

  “That could get you a suspension at my high school,” Ricki responded.

  “Yeah the system has gone completely stupid,” said Red.

  “No, not really stupid.”

  “What do you mean, Pacho?” asked Red.

  “Remember that guy at the Department of Justice who several years ago said that what they had to do was brainwash the American people about guns?”

  “Hadn’t heard that one,” said Ricki.

  I got up to get another cup and topped them off. “Oh yeah, I found it online. The statists needed to brainwash, that’s the word he used, brainwash the American people about guns.”

  “So you think that’s what my school was up to.”

  “That would be my guess, besides it wasn’t just your school. Schools all over the country got that way. I saw one report where two kids were overheard just talking about the shooting in New England a few years ago, and the kids got suspended for ten days.”

  “You’re kidding,” said Red.

  “I wish I were. The principal said anyone caught even using the word gun would get a ten-day suspension.”

  “If they did that to me, I might get mad enough to do a school shooting myself,” said Ricki.

  “You don’t mean that,” said Red.

  “No I don’t, but they made me mad.”

  “But you see, just like in the book 1984 you change people’s language, you change the way they think or rather the way they can think.”

  “Brainwashing,” said Red.

  “Maybe they are not so stupid after all,” I said.

  “Just evil,” said Ricki.

  “They’re good at using language. Childless became childfree. That’s how civilizations die,” I continued.

  Ricki interrupted, “Some people shouldn’t have kids.”

  Red took on that pained look. “I know,” was all she said.

  I continued. “Remember when that leftist news rag called the Columbia Rifle Association ‘Murder Inc.’ on their front cover?”

  “That was before our time,” quipped Ricki.

  “Yeah, thank heaven for the internet,” I said.

  Ricki looked down. “I don’t know much about heaven, but I can tell you about hell.”

  “Yeah,” Red said.

  I saw that I had accidentally hit a raw nerve.

  “I used to be a cutter,” said Ricki.

  “A what?” I asked.

  Ricki put down her cup, and slid up her sleeve. “They’re mostly healed now, see.” She moved her arm closer to me. They looked old, but there were numerous little slices across the inside of her left arm running up her arm.

  “What did you do that for?” blurted out Red.

  “I don’t know; I just did.”

  “I might have an answer, but I don’t want to pry too much,” I said.

  “Give it to me,” instructed Ricki.

  “Several years ago, there was this family friend who taught high school in a rough area. He was over visiting my folks when the subject came up. We were sitting around having burgers. It was a Saturday, and my dad loved to grill outside.”

  Suddenly, I could smell the burgers grilling. I used to love those Saturdays in the summer. I must have paused a bit too long. Red put her hand on my forearm and brought me back into the room.

  “Sorry, anyway he told us about a recent experience. He had a student, a very bright girl who was never any trouble and got good grades. However, she was part of a group of girls who were into the gothic thing.

  “He says he took a liking to them and always went out of his way to speak to them and be kind to his ‘gothic ladies’ as he called them. One day this girl showed up with fresh slices all up her arm. He nearly freaked out.

  “He didn’t know what to say. That evening he called his priest because this priest was also a licensed counselor. I don’t know if you want me to go on.” I looked over at Ricki. For the first time she looked little and vulnerable.

  “Go on,” she said without looking up.

  “What does a Catholic priest know? They’re not even married,” intoned Red.

  I almost wished I hadn’t brought it up. “This priest was Orthodox and apparently they can be married and have kids and the usual family problems. That’s part of why the guy I mentioned went to him.

  “Anyway, he said that often these girls had been sexually abused, and this was a way to make themselves look unattractive.”

  You could have heard a pin drop. Red looked miffed at me.

  “Yeah,” said Ricki. “Must have been some priest.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be, now you understand. That sort of makes it better. Tim has been super. I’ve told him everything. He’s such a great guy.”

  “If a little square,” added Red with a laugh.

  “Yeah, even if he’s a little square.” Ricki laughed too.

  I could see where, who had the squarest boyfriend was becoming sort of an inside joke. With the atmosphere lightened up, it seemed a good time to change the subject. I waited a few moments, took a couple of sips, and when the time seemed right, I began.

  “With your guys monitoring, we might be ready for them should it become necessary. Where’s everybody now?” I asked.

  “Spread out, taking care of the escapees, I guess. We were just sent out to let everybody know what we’re doing. I don’t guess you two need me to tell you nothing by telephone or email.”

  “No,
don’t think so.”

  “Okay, stay glued to the idiot box and stay awake midnight to daylight. If you hear they’ve gotten lucky join the party.”

  “Okay, we got it.”

  “I’ll pass your ideas on to Rico. See you.” With that she got up and left. Red secured the door behind her.

  After she came back, I said, “We’ve got to find a better way to communicate.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “I don’t know; something they would not expect. There have got to be radio frequencies we could use, or set up our own land lines, or bounce signals off the moon. Heck, I don’t know.”

  “Off the moon?”

  “Yeah bounce Morse code off the moon. Something they wouldn’t expect.”

  “I’ll run it by some of our electronics guys. They’re into all that stuff.”

  “We should have been better prepared,” I added.

  “We were getting prepared.”

  “I know you were. It was me and most of the rest of us who had our heads in the sand. But that’s not what I meant. I mean you guys were all over the small arms thing, but what about intelligence gathering, IEDs, heavy weapons, you know?”

  “Well, it’s too late now.”

  “I guess you’re right. We’ll just have to make it up as we go along. Great, let’s get some breakfast. You want me to whip something up while you shower.”

  “I’ll start; you shower first then finish up,” she said. Hit the tube in the living room as you pass.”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter 8 – He Who Lives by the Sword

  “Hi Angel,” said Diedrich.

  “Hi Diedrich, what you got?”

  “Well, this map shows where the zombies are searching. We’ve had to evacuate two safe houses. Some are being sheltered in South Fort Worth. We’ve begun slipping some out of town.”

  “Where to?”

  “Not far, some of the outlying small towns.”

  “Have they gone near the warehouse?”

  “No, but they’ve kept busy. Look at my log.”

  Angel took a look at his entries and radio calls out to the commanders. Usually they only responded to the calls when there was a threat.

  “You ready to take over?” Diedrich asked.

  “Yes, I’ll keep an eye on it. By the way, are any of our electronics super-geeks around?”

  “Yeah, I think Tony’s in the back. You go find him, and I’ll stay on a bit till you get back.”

  “Thanks, I won’t be long.”

  Angel wandered into the back and found Tony reading a comic book. “Doing some heavy reading on technical matters I see,” she teased.

  “Letting the old brain relax; besides I get some of my best ideas from fiction. What do you have on your mind?”

  “My boyfriend and I were talking. He brought up some ideas concerning communication.”

  “Is he one of us?”

  “Oh yeah. He said something about bouncing Morse code off the moon. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Yes, some of the ham radio people do that, but it’s not for anything mobile or for local use.” He seemed to ponder the question.

  “Unless of course I’m being too narrow minded. As a minimum we could use it in the city. There are even computer programs that will turn typed information into code and others that turn it back into type on the receiver’s computer screen.”

  “Can the feds get it?”

  “Yes, of course they won’t know to be looking for it. However …” He seemed to float off somewhere then resumed. “If we had a computer program scramble the message and another to descramble it on the other end then it wouldn’t matter whether or not they received it.”

  “Can they track our location?”

  Now Tony began to get excited. “No they can’t! It just bounces off the moon and could be coming from anywhere.”

  He looked up at Angel as if seeing her for the first time. “You know, let me run this past some of the other guys tonight. I’ll see what we can come up with. Thanks Angel, your boyfriend is a smart guy.”

  “Of course, you think I date dummies? And you’re very welcome. Glad I could help.”

  She went back up front. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “No problem, I’m going to find something to eat. I’m one of the lucky ones; I still have a job.”

  “Braggart.”

  As he left, she settled into her four-hour watch. They had cameras guarding approaches to this house, and they had police scanners as well as TVs to keep an eye out for breaking news. Computers allowed them to get signals from the traffic cameras in town. It was all recorded and backed up.

  A few minutes later Tony wandered by on his way out. He was one of the guys who had put this electronic eavesdropping setup together. The electronics geeks were awesome. “See you Angel.”

  “See you Tony.”

  Just as it was starting to get a little boring, “Now that’s interesting,” she said aloud. At first two, then three police cars were heading into the same area. It didn’t really get interesting until the BearCat showed up.

  “Looks like the zombies are setting up another raid.” The radio chatter seemed to confirm this. Only this time it was near a safe house where they sheltered some of the escaped prisoners.

  She picked up the mike and keyed it. “Breaker, breaker one niner. Slim, you got your ears on?”

  She waited. “Hello Country Girl, where you at?”

  “Same as usual.”

  Suddenly, a strange voice cut in. “Every beaver with a CB is a cotton picking country girl.”

  Angel ignored it.

  You doing any good?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay, be home soon.”

  That’s all she could do. She had sent the coded message. Now someone from command would come over, look at what she had noticed, and would decide what to do next.

  The frequency the feds used came alive. “Dedicated blue in route.”

  The feds seem to be getting in on this as well. She thought she recognized the voice of a DEA agent, but he didn’t give any location information and hadn’t showed up on any of the traffic cameras yet.

  The listening post was in an old group of buildings which housed shops, cafes, and some apartments which were mostly abandoned. It had been secure enough so far.

  Why weren’t the feds’ black SUV showing up on any of the traffic cameras on the freeways, she wondered? At that moment the door swung open.

  “Angel, get out of here. We’ve been found out.”

  “How?”

  “Let’s talk about it later,” said Justin, the commander on duty.

  At that moment three black SUVs came into view on the security camera. “Great, you know what to do; I’ll try to stall them.”

  Quickly she locked the door from the inside, so that it could only be unlocked from the inside. She hooked up the trip wire. If the door opened up, the whole place would blow.

  Justin jumped to the landing then to the ground. He ran right where they would see him. Predictably they stopped and a couple of them hopped out. Once he made it to where he could fire from behind the corner of a building, he opened fire on them, catching the two in the open.

  They went down. “Send forty-five ACP because shooting twice is just silly,” he said aloud. Justin had seen something like that on a bumper sticker.

  He stuck his head out just a bit and pumped a few rounds into each police vehicle. His bike was around back. “This is a general bug out guys, drop it and go,” he said into his phone.

  Then he dialed the cell phone number that set off the IED in the junked car out front of the listening post. With that he got on his bike and roared away.

  While the firefight outside was going on, Angel grabbed the tapes and memory sticks, anything with data on it and went to the bathroom. It had bars but they had been fixed so that they could be lifted up. She climbed out the window and crossed the courtyard.

  She managed to look
calm, but her breathing gave away the fear and excitement. She unlocked the door to the unused apartment and locked it behind her. There was a door behind the fridge that opened into a shop where iron security bars were made.

  This shop smelled of dust and welding smoke. “Hola,” one of the young men called out. “Quiere que te abra el barandal?”

  “Si por favor.” The young man opened chain link gate enclosing the back. She quickly mounted the dirt bike and was out.

  Angel rode through the alleys in case they had set up roadblocks. Suddenly, she heard an explosion. “The listening post is toast,” she said aloud. Too bad, but they had another. Soon she was on the freeway and gone.

  Had someone ratted them out, she thought to herself? Someone in security would have to ferret that one out; she had recordings to deliver.

  * * *

  “Earlier today two police officers were killed and three others injured during a raid on the 10500 block of Goodnight Lane,” Lora White, one of the local news commentators began.

  “The police were responding to a tip concerning a drug house. When the SWAT team entered the house, it was apparently wired with explosives. Several surrounding buildings had to be evacuated due to the resulting fire.

  “My colleague, Windy Sandefer, was at the scene earlier today and has this report.”

  The tape began to roll. Windy, a tall thin strawberry blonde with a large mouth that smiled easily, was looking seriously into the camera.

  “As you can see a good part of this building is destroyed. It appears to have been booby trapped, and when police rushed the door, they set off the explosion which killed the two officers and wounded others. It took four fire companies nearly two hours to extinguish the blaze.”

  The broadcast switched back to the newsroom. “Have the FBI been called in, Windy?”

  “The FBI has been called, but informed sources are telling me they are so overwhelmed with requests from all over the country that it might be a while before they can respond to this act of sabotage. The FBI is denying this, and the person I spoke with claims that they are handling all cases in a timely manner.”

  “What are the local police telling you?” asked Lora.

  “I’ve spoken to police officers who wish to remain anonymous, and they have told me that the FBI is so overwhelmed that they do not expect much from them anytime soon.”