The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4)

by G. Michael Hopf

  Silence fell over the room as they waited to hear the man on the other end.

  “Hello?” Gordon asked.

  “Mr. Van Zandt, hello, this is President Conner.”

  “President Conner?” Gordon asked, clearly surprised to be hearing the voice of the President of the United States.

  “Yes, this is President Conner, and be advised you’re on speaker phone.”

  “Mr. Van Zandt, hi, this is Vice President Cruz.”

  “Mr. Vice President, hi, how are you?” Gordon asked.

  “I’m good, very good, thank you. I understand you were trying to reach me?”

  Gordon felt foolish now. He had imagined a simple call to Cruz, not a conference call with the president and his entire staff.

  “Yes, sir, I, um . . . Sorry for calling, but you said that if I ever needed anything to call you and, well, you see, I need something.”

  “Mr. Van Zandt, sorry to jump in, but your call is, to say the least, very ironic. You see, you need something from us, and your country needs something from you.”

  Gordon paused, not knowing what to say. He knew that the only way for him to verify if Brittany was okay was with the help of Cruz, but apparently this request could now cost him a return favor.

  Conner waited patiently for a response to his last comment, but when one wasn’t given he proceeded. “Mr. Van Zandt, what is it that you need from us? We’re in gratitude to you for what you did, so please tell us how we can be of service.”

  Gordon looked around to see if Michael was listening. He wasn’t; he was back to unloading the truck. Just to be safe, he took a few more steps away and answered, “Mr. President, I hope my request doesn’t come off as silly, but I understand there’s been some upheaval in Coos Bay. I have a friend there I’m concerned about. I was hoping you could find out if she was okay.”

  Conner raised his eyebrows and looked at Baxter, sitting next to him. “You want us to contact someone in Coos Bay for you? Why don’t you do that yourself? You could have called your friend the colonel instead of calling here.”

  “You see, that might be difficult. I know you, meaning the United States, have a treaty with the colonel and, well, let’s say that my friend is working against him. I was hoping you could use some of your influence to make sure she and her son aren’t harmed.”

  “I don’t think we can help you,” Conner said flatly.

  Gordon was shocked by his abrupt answer to this simple request. “Why not?”

  “We lost contact with Colonel Barone months ago. After he massacred countless number of citizens, he locked down the city and any attempts we’ve made to make contact have gone unanswered. We’ve even gone as far as sending men out there, but all have been turned away. He has Coos Bay locked down like East Berlin. No one is going in or coming out.”

  Gordon’s pacing had taken him farther up the long drive. The thick grove of aspen trees that stood on either side of him shadowed him from the rising sun. He stopped and stared through the trees, his mind lost in a fog of questions.

  Conner looked around the room when a minute had passed without a response from Gordon. “Mr. Van Zandt, are you there?”

  “Ah, yes, I’m still here. I’m trying to think about what I can do, that’s all.”

  “Can I propose an idea that would be beneficial to both of us?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Again, I can’t say how ironic your call is. We were actually trying to track you down.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, we share your concern for what is happening in Coos Bay. Colonel Barone is allegedly an ally of ours, but we need to be more aggressive in our response to what has happened there. But with our inability to enter the region, we were at a loss as to what to do until your name came up just yesterday. We know you and he have a close relationship, yet you have managed to stay neutral in all of this. We thought that you could lead a mission into Coos Bay to determine what is happening there . . .”

  “Let me stop you right there. I don’t have any plans on driving to Coos Bay. I’m very concerned for my friends, but I can’t leave my family again.”

  Conner looked at Baxter, who then took the look as his cue to speak. “Mr. Van Zandt, this is General Baxter, the secretary of defense. We know the difficulties of living out where you are, but I can say that we can provide you supplies—whatever you need in exchange for you service. You name it; we’ll provide it to you.”

  Gordon began to pace again. The offer of equipment and supplies was enticing, but he had made a promise that he couldn’t break. He could not leave Samantha and Haley again, no matter what he was offered.

  “I just don’t know if I can risk making another drive like that. It’s too dangerous on the roads,” Gordon said.

  “Mr. Van Zandt, our nation needs you; we are in a perilous position right now. We have an army marching toward us and Barone has gone offline. We need to know what’s going on there so we can assess our position against the PAE.”

  Gordon clenched his teeth out of frustration. When he’d called, he never imagined that the conversation would turn out like this.

  “Mr. President, I need a day to think about this. I can’t make another drive like that again. I just can’t risk it.”

  “Take another day, think about it,” Conner replied.

  “Van Zandt, General Baxter again here. You don’t have to drive—we’ll send a chopper to pick you up and take you to a predetermined landing zone outside of Coos Bay. We’ll supply you with a motorcycle to go the rest of the distance. Let us know what gear you’ll need and we’ll have it on the bird.”

  “Do I call this number back tomorrow?” Gordon asked.

  “Correct, call this number tomorrow morning at eleven hundred hours,” Baxter confirmed. He then looked at Conner.

  “Mr. Van Zandt, please think about it. You get to accomplish a lot with a single trip,” Conner concluded.

  “Thank you. I’ll call back tomorrow with my decision,” Gordon said, and hung up.

  When the phone line went dead all eyes shifted to Conner, who was now standing.

  “Looks like we’re having a meeting this time tomorrow?” Baxter asked rhetorically.

  “Same time tomorrow, but I want Major Schmidt present too.” Major Schmidt was new to the command structure, but in his short time there he had proven to be trustworthy and offered a unique perspective that Conner liked.

  “I’ll let the major know his presence is needed tomorrow,” Baxter stated.

  “Mr. President, you do realize that Van Zandt is a friend of Colonel Barone’s. How do we know he won’t compromise the mission or lie about what’s happening there?” Secretary Wilbur said.

  “Brad, I agree with Secretary Wilbur on this. He’s not a man with a strong allegiance to the United States,” Cruz added.

  “Why’s that?” Conner asked.

  “The man shared with me his open animosity toward the government,” Wilbur said evenly.

  “Animosity?” Baxter asked.

  “Yes, he was adamant about how the government has screwed him over,” Wilbur added.

  “How do you know this?” Baxter asked, now facing Wilbur as he swiveled in his chair.

  “He told me, flat out. He has no love for us. The man is an opportunist and I don’t think we can trust him,” Wilbur said, answering Baxter.

  “How did we screw him over?” Conner asked.

  “This guy was a Marine and served in Iraq. Something happened; he wouldn’t share with us specifically, but it sounded like his exit out of the military was not a good one,” Wilbur said.

  “General, do we have access to military records?” Conner asked Baxter.

  “That’s a good question—not sure. It’s not as if we’ve been concerned with that type of info these days,” Baxter said.

  “Find out. I want to
see who we’re dealing with in light of this new info. Make it a priority. I want it before our conversation with him tomorrow,” Conner commanded. Baxter nodded in acknowledgement of his latest task.

  “All right, let’s change gears. We have a war to win,” Conner said.

  “Sir, may I present my findings on the separatist movements to the group?” Wilbur interjected.

  “Yes, please, Madam Secretary, go ahead. I appreciate you doing this so quickly. Ever since our run-in with the Montana Independence Party, it has become increasingly important to keep tabs on these groups,” Conner said.

  The Montana Independence Party was a loose affiliation of civilian militias that had one common goal: to have Montana break away from the United States. Conner was feeling the pressure from these small separatist groups that had popped up. It was already difficult enough to keep the country together without them trying to pull it apart.

  “My pleasure, sir. After several conversations with governors and other state homeland security personnel, I came away with extensive knowledge on what’s happening out there with separatist and independence movements. Because of more critical issues, like getting the infrastructure back up and just feeding people, focus on these groups and their activities was not being closely monitored,” Wilbur said, handing out sheets of paper around the table.

  Laying a map across the table, Wilbur turned to her peers with a serious look on her face. “What we’re looking at is a widespread fracturing of our nation.” The map she had laid out displayed a different country than what they were used to seeing. The map was color-coded to depict the areas that had separated or had threatened to. The eastern United States was crossed out with red lines from the Mississippi river east. This was the area that Cruz and Baxter had determined to be forfeit. Texas was marked out but now parts of Oklahoma and Arkansas were included with it. Nevada and California were shaded green, with the letters PAE written across them. Arizona had the letters AR marked over it, which stood for Arizona Republic. Other states that were now crossed out or missing from the map of the current United States were parts of North Dakota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington. These states now marked off gave a glimpse of a new, much smaller country if some of the groups wanting to break away succeeded.

  Conner’s eyes ran over the map quickly, his heartbeat increasing when his mind started to process what he was seeing.

  “If you look at the paper I handed out, you’ll see about five major groups. There are a lot of mobs and gangs, but the groups I’ll cover are organized and could pose a problem. We all remember the MIP, and though they are down, we can’t consider them out. We will need to monitor them. Major Schmidt was smart to keep a small contingency of troops up there to support the governor. In Arizona we’re dealing with a group called the Arizona Republic. They’re attempting to break away legitimately by convincing the governor and state legislature to vote on secession. You won’t believe it, but their leader is former Congressman Faye—”

  Conner interrupted her by blurting out, “Faye? He served with me and was a part of my caucus back in the nineties. The son of a bitch term-limited himself out of office, so now he wants his own country?”

  “Apparently he has a lot of support in the legislature but not enough for a two-thirds victory. He has a series of militias sworn to him, but so far they’ve kept it civil.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way,” Conner stated.

  “Up in the northwest, in Washington and Idaho we have a group called the Cascadian Independence Movement, which is split into two factions. The one in western Washington wants to split and are more militant; however, they don’t seem to have the means to do much. The other faction is located in eastern Washington and Idaho. They want a split too, but they have expressed they’ll settle on a political solution, such as a loose affiliation. The governors from both states said they’re seeing many of these symbols across the state.” Wilbur walked back to the table and showed a picture of the flag that symbolized the Cascadian Movement. It was beautiful, with three horizontal stripes of blue, white, and green. In the middle of the flag was a silhouette of a Douglas fir tree. It was where the flag got its nickname, the Doug flag.

  Conner snatched the picture and shook his head in frustration. “Goddamn idiots. Don’t they know we’re doing our best to help them?”

  Wilbur ignored the comment and continued. “And just twenty miles away from right where we stand is the western boundary of the Republic of Lakotah. They too have a strong organizing body but haven’t yet garnered widespread support. There have been reports of some of them here in town. Apparently they’re attempting to organize a march here to petition us for a peaceful separation. Their desire is to split off parts of Wyoming, North and South Dakota, and Nebraska.”

  “They’re in our backyard and I’m just now hearing about this?” Conner angrily interjected.

  “Sir, we’ve had our noses to the grindstone with the PAE,” Baxter said lightly. Conner grimaced.

  “Last but not least is a group of states that have come together from a result of our eastern states plan. The states of Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and South Carolina have formed the Dixie Federation. I mention them only because things are happening back east. Our abandonment has left a huge vacuum and they moved in. They don’t pose a problem to us, just thought you should know.”

  Conner sat and examined the map closely. He noticed that she hadn’t explained the changes to Oklahoma and Arkansas. “What happened to Oklahoma and Arkansas?”

  “Sorry, yes, the southern part of Oklahoma and most of Arkansas is seeking to join the Republic of Texas.”

  “You all are looking to me to make a decision, but I need to allow this to marinate before I say we do anything about these groups. Does anyone have anything to add?” Conner asked.

  “I was wondering if Secretary Wilbur has any thoughts, since she drafted the report,” Baxter said.

  “I do. I think we need to aggressively engage these groups in diplomatic ways. We need to see what they’re seeking. Sometimes in life, I’ve found that all people want is to be heard . . .”

  “Or to kidnap!” Baxter quipped, referencing the botched kidnapping attempt against her weeks before by the separatist group known as the Montana Independence Party. The MIP had solicited Conner and the United States for peaceful separation. Under Wilbur’s leadership, she journeyed there under the protection of Major Schmidt. Things immediately went wrong, as it was an ambush. They kidnapped her with the hope of trading her for a treaty with Conner. However, Major Schmidt didn’t negotiate—he attacked them, and viciously.

  “In all seriousness, we should talk to these people to see if there is a peaceful way to handle it,” Wilbur countered. “Despite my experiences, I say that,” she added.

  Conner nodded and concluded the briefing. “Wilbur, thank you. Let me think about this. We are already pulled in many directions. In some regards, I want to just put my foot against their throat and end this bullshit once and for all.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend that, sir. We can’t just use deadly force with every group we encounter. What happened in Montana shouldn’t have happened,” Wilbur stressed.

  “I don’t know what you think should have happened, but those people were not about diplomacy. What happened, happened, and I sleep fine at night knowing that their threat is disabled and you are back here safely,” Conner shot back. “Let’s take a short break, reconvene in ten,” Conner said.

  All in the room got up. Some left while others began to chat with one another. As they did, Conner hovered over Wilbur’s map. He didn’t like what he saw. If something wasn’t done, he wouldn’t have a country to preside over.

  McCall, Idaho

  The laughter of children tore Gordon away from his troubled thoughts. He turned to see Haley chasing Austin. Seeing her smiling face, he knew he couldn’t risk leaving; he couldn�
�t break his promise to Samantha. He cared for Brittany, but not so much as to hurt Samantha and Haley again.

  Gordon always found himself fighting the urge to say yes when supplies and equipment were on the line. He had developed what Samantha described as apocalyptic obsessive-compulsive disorder. He couldn’t help but try to have everything needed to keep his family alive. He knew his side trip to Oregon wasn’t the best idea, but he was grateful for all the equipment, food, medicines, and the Humvee he got out of his adventure. But this trip, even with the president’s promise of supplies, just seemed too risky.

  “You hungry?” Gordon asked Michael.

  “Yeah, I could go for a bite.”

  They made their way to the house. “Sam? Michael’s here!” Gordon hollered as they walked inside.

  As he passed through the great room, he saw Gunny and his men out on the back deck, but no Samantha. He pressed forward and suspected she was in the master bedroom. His assumption was correct. He walked in and there she was sitting in the rustic rocking chair in the corner.

  “Hey, sweetie, Michael’s here. He brought the wood over and I’m going to make him something to eat. You hungry?”

  Samantha’s attention was on a book she was reading. She lowered it in frustration. “These medical books are like WebMD used to be. If I had to guess based on Annaliese’s symptoms, I’d have to say she’s going to die.”

  “What?”

  “I’m trying to be funny, but it didn’t come out right. Her symptoms match so many things, many of them very bad,” she said, then paused to think. “I’m worried about her. She’s now been sick for almost a week. Something’s not right. I thought I could look in this book but her symptoms match everything from cancer to gout. It’s crazy.”

  “I forgot to tell you, Sebastian is taking her in to see the doc today.”

  “Finally. What’s wrong with him? He should have taken her earlier,” Samantha said. Samantha and her sister-in-law had grown close over the past few months; it didn’t take long for them to click. For Samantha it meant a lot to have a woman that she could call a sister.