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

by G. Michael Hopf

  With his mother incapable of helping him while he was healing, Seneca jumped in and was there daily to clean his wounds, feed, and care for him. When anyone asked about his recovery, he always gave her credit. Ironically those weeks bedridden were some of the best he had ever had in his life. Each day was filled with countless hours of deep conversations, laughing, and tender touches. He sometimes joked that he had gotten better earlier but was just pretending so she’d be at his bedside daily. The selflessness she showed him endeared her again in his heart. It had taken him a long time to get over their breakup years before, but he never mentioned it and neither did she. He preferred to live in the present, rather than dwelling on the past.

  Once he was able to get around again, he took the first chance he had to ask her out on a date. He thought it funny that even in a world turned upside down that romance was still alive and well. In fact, the intensity of the new world made romantic endeavors even more powerful because people never wanted to miss out on a chance to experience love. Not only did tonight provide him the ability to get out, it gave him a chance to see Seneca. It wasn’t an ideal date, but then again, the luxuries of the past world weren’t available. The Bistro was a hub, and the very least he could do was buy her a drink and enjoy her company.

  Nelson surveyed the room. The volume was high with conversation, debate, and laughter. He had his judgments about the crowd but there seemed to be a fair representation of the town’s people. Young and old, male and female all sat together discussing the political topic that brought them together: secession from the United States.

  “Nelson, over here!” Michael hollered from across the room.

  Nelson made his way to the table and sat down with Michael and another man.

  “Want some shine?” Michael offered, handing him a tall glass of clear liquid.

  “Sure.”

  “I’d offer you whiskey but I’m sure you know the joint ran out of everything months ago. The owner of the café now distills this. It’s not too bad. Made with homegrown Idaho potatoes,” Michael said.

  Nelson took the half-filled tallboy glass and smelled it. The strong alcohol smell shocked his senses. The shine was absent of any specific taste, but it had a signature burn, and from what he had heard, a signature hangover if one indulged too heavily.

  “Hmm, not bad, but I still like my Maker’s.” Michael raised his glass and they clinked glasses.

  “This is Charles Chenoweth. He’s from our movement in Olympia,” Michael said, gesturing to a tall, bearded man to his right. He wore an old baseball hat that had the Doug flag emblazoned on it, the symbol of this movement.

  “Nice meeting you, Charles. I’m Nelson,” he said, putting out his hand.

  Charles took Nelson’s hand and shook it. “Nice meeting you too. Glad you could come out. Michael here has talked highly of you. He says you’d be a good asset to our movement.”

  “Not sure what Michael said to make you believe that, but I’m here to listen. I’m not joining anything just yet.”

  “And I appreciate that! I wanted you to meet Preston, a colleague of mine from Olympia, but he’s not feeling well.”

  “So there are two groups in the movement, I’ve heard?” Nelson asked.

  Michael jumped in and said, “We are equally focused on having independence for ourselves. We just differ slightly on how to accomplish that.”

  Charles grinned and responded, “I would agree with Michael on that.”

  Michael had invited Charles to come and visit to show a united front for the party. McCall had become the epicenter of the Cascadian Movement in the east. The factions had two distinct ideological, core-belief differences, but one common goal and that was independence for Cascadia. There were some differences on what physical boundaries constituted Cascadia. The western Cascadia included all of Washington State and parts of Oregon, Idaho, and British Columbia. The eastern faction agreed with those boundaries but wanted all of Oregon and all of Idaho. There were also strong divisions on how to approach the United States and Canadian governments with independence. Michael and many in the east wanted a peaceful and democratic separation but would be willing to negotiate a loose affiliation or confederation with the United States and Canada if need be. The west wanted nothing but a full separation and was willing to fight for it.

  Michael was instrumental in establishing the foothold for Cascadia in the east. He was looking at elected office, but his dreams of power were not local but national. He felt it important to finally meet those leaders in the west and begin to formalize a relationship that could ultimately end with them merging under a common goal. He knew they needed the west to win their independence.

  Wherever Michael went, he invited townspeople to come to their meetings. He felt that the more who listened, the more they’d convert to their cause. Before the lights went out, he rarely ever talked about the idea of seceding—for him it was a pipe dream. But as soon as everything changed, he saw the opportunity and grasped it. As each day passed without federal or state response, converting followers became easier and easier. At first people were resistant to change, but their patience was wearing thin as days became weeks and then months. No longer did he have to hard-close people on the idea of independence when all they had to do was look around and see that they were abandoned and left to survive on their own.

  Michael knew Nelson and the others would be a great asset to their movement and hoped that if he could recruit Nelson, it would make it easier for Gordon to come along if both Nelson and Sebastian were applying pressure.

  “Has Michael shared with you what Cascadia means?” Charles asked.

  Nelson looked around the room for Seneca, who was supposed to be arriving any minute. He turned his attention back to Charles. “Yeah, he’s mentioned it before.”

  “So, let me ask you, what can be wrong with it?”

  “Listen, I know what I’m getting with President Conner and the government back in Cheyenne. With you, I don’t know what I’ll get in the end. I’ve seen too much to trust that the fix for the ills that exist is as easy as flipping a switch. Changing the name of our country and flying a pretty flag doesn’t make things better.”

  “What you’re getting with President Conner and his regime is more of the same. The government neglected us before all of this happened and now they’re engaging in what can only be described as criminal neglect and abandonment. We have been surviving on our own for a long time now. Why not just make it official and be independent?”

  Nelson was half listening to Charles as he kept looking toward the door.

  “Am I boring you?” Charles snapped.

  “I’m waiting for someone, sorry. I’m listening.”

  “Good, you invited someone else to come?” Michael asked.

  “Yes, my girlfriend, Seneca,” Nelson said, thinking that he liked saying the word girlfriend when referring to Seneca.

  “Sorry to snap. I don’t like to waste my breath. It’s fine if you’re not interested, just let me know.”

  “I’m curious, I am, really.”

  “Fair enough. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to start the meeting,” Charles said, then stood and walked to the center of the room.

  “Really glad you came out, Nelson, it means a lot. Sorry that Gordon couldn’t make it. Where did you say he was again?” Michael asked.

  “Not sure.”

  Michael wasn’t one to press when he realized Nelson was not going to give up anything on his old friend. “No worries.”

  Seneca had snuck in unnoticed by Nelson. She sidled up beside him and planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek. Startled, Nelson jumped up. “Hey, so glad you came out.”

  Seneca hugged him and promptly sat down, seeing that the room was being silenced for the upcoming meeting.

  “Michael, you’ve met Seneca, right?”

  “Yes. Hi, Seneca.”
<
br />   “Hi. Um, what’s this?” she asked, pointing at Nelson’s glass.

  “Kerosene.”

  “He’s starting. Listen,” Michael blurted out.

  “Everyone, quiet!” Charles said loudly.

  All eyes turned to Charles as the volume in the room went to zero. Nelson looked around. He estimated there were over seventy people in the main room; every chair and space to stand was taken, and there were more people out on the patio.

  “Thank you all for coming tonight. Michael said the group looks bigger than last month’s. For those new to our group, Cascadia welcomes you. It will take all of us here to enact the change we are looking for. Many of the new people here have come because you feel betrayed by the government, and you should. Like I have been saying since the day I helped found this movement, we can’t trust those in the seats of power. Their only interests were themselves and their corporate sponsors. While the rest of us have fought each and every day to survive, those that allowed this to happen are doing just fine. Somewhere they are sitting in the comfort and safety of their bunkers. Their past transgressions brought this apocalypse and now they don’t have to suffer from it. They knew it was coming; this is why they prepared for it to collapse. What they didn’t factor into this collapse is that we are a strong people. We have now adapted to living without them, so with that knowledge the question begs to be answered, why do we need them at all? Why should we wait for them to crawl out of their bunkers to claim what is left? Here is my answer: We shouldn’t. This is our moment to mobilize. We must organize, march forces on our state capitals, and not only declare our independence but seize it.” Charles paused to take a breath.

  The Bistro roared with applause.

  “When Michael invited me to come to McCall, I jumped at the chance to meet our brothers and sisters who, like us in the west, are determined to live in a truly free country. I also came here to make sure we all can have a common approach to this. But before I go into detail let me first thank Michael for my warm welcome and the invitation. Michael, please stand, and everyone give this man a round of applause,” Charles said, pointing at Michael.

  The crowd again burst into applause accompanied by hoots and hollers.

  “Our goal in the west is to march on Olympia on August fifteenth. There we will declare our independence from tyranny and send a message that we’re creating our own independent state where human rights, the environment, social justice, and a fair trade economy will flourish. Cascadia will be a beacon to the world announcing that the days of a greed-based capitalistic economy are over. We will not destroy our environment, we will not pervert nature, but live within our means and within our ecosystem with the understanding that we’re not dominant over it but take an equal part in it,” Charles boomed.

  The response was more tepid this time. Nelson took note of the less enthusiastic response; he himself felt uncomfortable with some of Charles’s words. To him, it sounded like veiled socialism. If Nelson had a vision of independence, it didn’t sound like this. He believed that government was a necessary evil and wanted it to come together for defense, to build roads and to staff police, and he even could get behind making sure the environment was protected; but when Charles attacked capitalism, he cringed.

  Charles spoke for another fifteen minutes. He dove into how the new government would be structured under a parliamentary system and discussed a range of topics in depth, from defense to energy to a judicial system.

  Nelson was impressed with how thorough and detailed he was; this showed him that the idea wasn’t completely harebrained. But during Charles’s speech, several items raised red flags for him.

  Charles finished by saying, “I’m here to answer any questions so feel free to ask.”

  Only a few clapped their approval with Charles’s speech. What started as a raucous chorus now suffered a blow of dispiritedness. Picking up on this, Michael jumped up.

  “Charles, thank you so much for speaking tonight. Come on, people, let’s give a hardier round of applause for our friend from the west,” Michael said as he began clapping.

  Luckily, Michael’s following was loyal and did as he requested, but the excitement from earlier in the evening was definitely toned down.

  Charles began to walk back to his chair but Nelson couldn’t contain himself. He had to ask some questions. By now he had drank enough shine to make him a bit feisty.

  “Charles, excuse me, Charles!”

  Charles stopped in his tracks and responded, “Yes, Nelson, you have a question?”

  “Yeah,” Nelson answered. He looked around and decided to stand so he could be heard. “I have a question that I think others might have too.”

  “Sure, what’s your question?”

  “What type of economic system do you have in mind for Cascadia?”

  A few others in the room nodded in agreement at question.

  “Cascadia will have a fair trade economic system. We do not believe in free trade if it affects our people negatively. We also believe in fair market places. That is to say that anyone can grow, sell, or produce what they want; we want the government to oversee that marketplace to remove greed and manipulation.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Greed will not be a part of the fair market system. The people will determine the prices that will be fair and equitable, ensuring that all can afford and have access to them.”

  A few laughs erupted from the group.

  “You want to regulate trade by going as far to price-fix products?”

  “Yes, we will encourage trading or bartering, but the currency we create will not be based upon a gold standard or any type of commodity that one individual can own, control, or manipulate. Cascadia will control the value of the currency it uses.”

  “Charles, you’re losing me here.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I understand, it’s just that you’re losing my interest in this movement. You sound like a communist, and I can tell you I’m never going to support anything or any government that thinks that way.”

  “I can assure you, we’re not communist. You can own or open any business you want. You can sell, make whatever you choose as long as it’s priced with fairness in mind. We will take this fairness doctrine to include what you as a business owner will pay for the labor. We believe that a worker in your business didn’t only work but has contributed to a business’s success. The business will be required to pay an equitable portion of the profit on top of the fair wage.”

  Nelson began to laugh openly, and others in the crowd were now mumbling loudly.

  Michael saw the tension building and quickly interjected, “Charles has an important meeting to get to. Charles, thank you for coming out.”

  Charles looked at Michael but was passionate about his beliefs and continued to talk. “I see nothing funny. We will provide a country that values justice, peace, and living within the sustainability of our ecosystem.”

  The crowd grew louder and Michael knew he had to calm it down. The differences that separated the two movements were front and center.

  “Everyone, please be quiet. I want to thank Charles for coming all the way out here. He and those in the west have some different beliefs than we do, but we each need one another to execute a successful separation from the United States. You’ve heard me say it before. We are already independent of them; we have been for a long time now. We don’t need some group of people who are foreign to how things work up in the northwest to tell us how to live anymore. The differences we have with our friends in the west pale in comparison to our differences with those in Cheyenne and Boise. We will work together to hash out these and come together.”

  Someone in the crowd yelled out, “Why? We don’t need those in Olympia. Let’s form our own country.”

  Others nodded in agreement.

  “We need
Olympia,” Michael responded.

  Crosstalk and yelling began to erupt from the crowd now.

  “Everyone, please be respectful.”

  “What are you trying to do here, Michael?” a voice shouted.

  “Everyone, please, no one is trying to do anything. Charles’s group and ours have some different beliefs on some items, but we all have the same objective!”

  It was getting difficult to hear as the shouting and loud conversations overtook the room.

  Nelson turned to Seneca and shrugged. “Sorry. Not much of a date.”

  “Are you kidding me? This is fun! I’m just ready for the first punch to be thrown.”

  “Everybody, shut the hell up!” a voice bellowed over the others.

  Chief Rainey, a latecomer to the movement, was standing on top of a chair near the front door.

  “If this meeting is going to turn into a melee, I’ll bring you all in on disturbing the peace.”

  The room went silent as all eyes were focused on the chief, his stocky build straining the small wooden bistro chair.

  “Mr. Chenoweth risked his life to come here and visit us. He came here in good faith thinking that we’re all in this together. You’re not being good hosts if this is how you treat him. I heard what the man said and like many of you, I’m not in agreement with some of his ideas, but we need to be tolerant of others’ beliefs. If any of us dream of the day of being a free country where our leaders understand us and are truly accountable, than we need to find a way to work together.”