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

by G. Michael Hopf

  “Good morning.”

  He was surprised he was waking so early after such a long day before and what seemed like an endless night caring for Haley and Luke.

  “I was going to wake you, but you were sleeping so soundly,” Samantha said as she reached out and rubbed his arm. They both had so much to deal with. Samantha was heartsick about Sebastian and Annaliese. It was another problem in a series of problems that kept piling up.

  “Gosh, what a tough night.”

  “We’ve got it easy. The poor kids.”

  “You’re right, I should be thinking of them.”

  “I remember you telling me you had a meeting with Michael this morning—when is that?”

  “Oh God, I forgot all about that. I told him I’d meet him at his house at eight.”

  “So, tell me, what happened yesterday?” she asked while pushing him in earnest.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Stop it, you said something big happened at the city council meeting, but with the kids and then you passing out from exhaustion last night, you never mentioned it.”

  “Oh, well . . . you’re looking at the new McCall defense chief,” Gordon said, a grin from ear to ear.

  Samantha raised her eyebrows. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “You suggested I take on a bigger role in town. I know it’s not the open spot on the council but it’s a start.”

  “What’s your job, what are your responsibilities?”

  “I’m in charge of organizing, training, and equipping the McCall militia.”

  “Militia?”

  “Yes, McCall will have its very own army, for lack of a better word. I’m in charge of them.”

  “This is in response to that Schmidt person?”

  “Yes, and of course to other threats that our town might face.”

  Samantha rolled onto her back and sighed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything. If it’s not one thing it’s another. Just when I think we’re catching a break, we get slammed with something else. It’s just so . . . crazy. How are we going to stop them when they come for you and the others? We don’t have an army, we just have a bunch of regular town folk, no training, no big guns. How are we going to stop them if they come here with tanks and tons of soldiers?”

  Gordon began to caress her arm and whispered, “Don’t worry about that, that’s my job. You just let me figure it all out. I have a thing or two up my sleeve that just might work.”

  She looked into his eyes and trusted what she saw. Gordon had proven to be resilient and if anyone could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat it was him. “What time is it?”

  Gordon looked at the old wind-up alarm clock and answered, “Seven on the nose.”

  “Good, you have some time then,” Samantha purred as she crawled over and got on top of Gordon.

  They kissed passionately and soon the concerns and worries were gone as they lost themselves in each other.

  • • •

  Eight o’clock came quickly and Gordon was on his way to meet Michael. He had much to discuss with him. Having secured a place within the local government, he now needed to secure a place within the dominant political party of the area.

  Loyalties in McCall were already strained between those loyal to the United States and those now swearing allegiance to the Cascadians. The momentum the Cascadians had been experiencing had stopped when word came that the federal government was coming to provide support. Michael and some of the local Cascadian leadership swiftly promoted the idea that the government wasn’t coming to help but to quarantine them so that they’d all die off.

  Gordon respected Michael’s endless energy and drive to better his family. He never sat idly waiting for someone else to take care of them. If he didn’t know how to do something he’d find someone who did and pick their brains till he had the knowledge. Gordon knew this was an important trait and was the reason Michael had been successful before the lights went out and was successful now.

  Filled with promise, Gordon got out of his truck and walked up on Michael’s house. Michael was outside, focused on laying a straight chalk line on a board he was about to cut.

  “Look at you, always working on something,” Gordon joked.

  “Welcome back, stranger.”

  “Good to be back.”

  “One second,” Michael said as he snapped the chalk line. The thin string left a dusty red line on the board.

  “Thanks for meeting me.”

  Michael stopped working and motioned Gordon to come sit down on a small deck off the front of his house.

  “Thirsty?” Michael asked.

  Gordon loved how everyone in McCall was always polite, even given the threats that they all faced. He smiled. “I’m fine.”

  “How are Haley and Luke?”

  “Good as they can be. I wish we had some word from Charles or Smitty. It would just be nice to know what their status was,” Gordon lamented.

  “I know, this pandemic is a problem. Don’t take this wrong but I fear it will be used to stop our process.”

  “I don’t take it wrong, I actually agree with you. That’s why I’m here.”

  Michael looked at him with raised eyebrows. “There are miracles, I guess.”

  “I would have come sooner, but there just weren’t enough hours in the day,” Gordon said.

  “That tone—what’s that tone I’m hearing?”

  “I heard about your skepticism in regard to the federal forces coming here and you’re right. They aren’t coming to help us out—”

  “I knew it!” Michael blurted out.

  “They’re coming to stomp us out. They’re coming for me, you, and everyone who holds a leadership role in Cascadia.”

  Michael’s face turned white upon hearing the words fall from Gordon’s mouth.

  “They are coming here to McCall to arrest us all for treason,” Gordon continued. “You okay?” he asked. He could see fear in Michael’s face.

  “I’m all right. I guess I knew this day could come and now it’s here. I don’t know why I didn’t think that they’d just roll over and let us have our own country,” Michael said, the tone in his voice now subdued by the reality of it all.

  “Actions have consequences. Always have, always will.”

  “If they arrest us, what will happen?”

  “Oh, one of two things. Either they lock us away somewhere and throw away the key, Gitmo style, or they’ll execute us. I really don’t know; either way, your family, the life you know, it’s over, Michael. The dream you had of Cascadia is gone, unless . . .”

  “Unless we don’t let them stop us, we fight back,” Michael said, his voice raised.

  Gordon nodded and said, “That’s right, Michael, we have to fight.”

  “Let me guess—you have a plan?” Michael asked as he leaned in closer to Gordon.

  “It’s a delicate situation for us locally; there are many that believe the government is coming to help. We must show them that their intentions are not good. Just how we do that is something I can’t answer right now.”

  “Any idea of when they’ll get here?”

  “Nope, but I’ve already got a plan on how to stop them when they come our way. But before I detail that to you, I need something from you.”

  Michael looked surprised. “What do you need from me?”

  “Before that, let me fully explain everything so you have context.” Gordon then detailed everything to Michael; he could no longer keep things from those he knew he could trust. He needed to build a coalition, and for him there was only one side he could go with and that was with the Cascadians. He detailed his travels to Oregon months ago, Annaliese’s sickness, and the deal he struck with Conner. He explained in exhaustive detail what just happened in Coos Bay and how he had barely surviv
ed. He told him Sebastian’s situation and how that weighed on his mind. He then finished with the details of his new position within the McCall city government. For Gordon it felt like a confession, and when he was finished, he had a deep feeling of relief.

  “Gordon, this is crazy, all of it,” Michael said.

  “I know.”

  “I’m sorry about Sebastian.”

  “I just don’t know how I’m going to get him back, but I can tell you that I’m not surrendering to them.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Michael offered.

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Of course I do. I just don’t know what I can do. But if you want me to help spring him, I’m in.”

  Gordon looked at him squarely and said, “I want to help you build a new country.”

  Michael almost fell out of his chair. His eyes were wide with shock.

  “Really?”

  “I want to be a part in this new government you’re trying to form.”

  “Of course, of course,” Michael responded, palpably excited about Gordon’s conversion. “What did you have in mind?”

  “A leadership role. I’m tired of listening to what people tell me to do. I want to make the rules.”

  “I can’t guarantee a leadership role, but you can start in the ranks—”

  Gordon cut him off and said assertively, “If Cascadia wants to be free, then it will need the ability to fight. It will need an army.”

  “We have a leadership structure already; I don’t really have the power to put you in one of those positions.”

  “Did you miss the part of my story where I mentioned I’m in charge of creating a militia to defend McCall? Between you and me, that will be the bedrock, the foundation of an army. What I need you to do is give me a position of power and influence. You do that and I’ll give Cascadia an army.”

  Fifty-three miles west of Cheyenne, Wyoming

  Perched in the turret of the lead tank, Schmidt turned and looked upon the small army he had following him. The column of tanks, trucks, and vehicles stretched for miles behind him. He felt blessed to be in the position he was in now. He was given the honorable position of cleansing the United States of the enemies who sought to divide it and split it apart. This was the greatest purpose a fighting man could be given. His mission would have a real and lasting impact on the future of his country and he took it seriously. He would do anything to make sure his country’s flag flew proudly again, everywhere.

  Conner had met him in the early morning hours to send him off with his five-thousand-man-strong army. Of any day to do it, the Fourth of July gave it greater meaning. The trust that Conner gave him was something he didn’t take for granted. Conner’s actions yesterday against his chief of staff sent shock waves through the administration. Schmidt respected that decision and knew it would go far to silence opposition to the tough decisions the president had to make.

  Schmidt was disappointed that his men hadn’t been able to find Annaliese Van Zandt, but having Sebastian in his custody would give him leverage if he needed it. He didn’t know how involved Gordon was in the Cascadian Movement, or if he was involved at all. For Schmidt, the arrest of Sebastian was a way he could get in front of Gordon and then exact revenge for Finley. He would satisfy his own personal revenge while giving the United States another victory.

  He reached into a pocket of his tactical vest and pulled out a laminated map. They were only fifty-three miles outside of Cheyenne, with another eight hundred miles to go. By his calculations they’d be arriving on the outskirts of McCall in six days. Their route took them along old interstate highways, state highways, and county roads; his plan was to avoid any large cities and make no contact with civilians unless it fell within his rule of engagement. Initially, his plan was to make a stop at Mountain Home but he changed that so as to not contaminate his men with the virus. Instead, they would slip around the base and head north toward McCall.

  In retrospect he felt foolish for calling Gordon’s wife and telling her they were coming. This lost for them any element of surprise they would’ve had. He was usually a disciplined man, but he allowed his personal emotions to interfere with his judgment.

  “Sir, is it nice to be back in the saddle?” asked Corporal Cast, his tank driver.

  Schmidt folded the map and placed it back in his pocket. “Yes it does, Corporal, yes it does.”

  “You expect we’ll get much action?”

  “Oh, I don’t think we’ll have much of a fight. These folks are more bark than bite. That’s not to say we shouldn’t be on our toes, but I imagine we’ll mop them up in a day or two.”

  “I just hope we get a chance to finally use this,” Corporal Cast said, referring to the 120-millimeter rounds for the tank’s main guns.

  “Don’t fret, Corporal; we just might have a chance to use it. Our mission to destroy these groups has just begun. Be patient. Our time will come and this old tank will get an opportunity to show us what she has. Now, no more questions. Focus on driving.”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Reaching into a side pocket he pulled out an old photo. It was a photo of him, smiling, his arms embracing a young woman who held a baby. He stared at it as his mind raced back to that time. No one really knew Schmidt, much less took the time to try. He was hardnosed and efficient, allowed only a few people to get close. Staff Sergeant Finley had been one of those men. Now he was gone, like the people in the photo. Deep feelings began to rise in him but he stopped them. He quickly put the photo away and focused back on the mission and task ahead.

  With the rising sun at his back, he pressed forward toward the wide-open plains of western Wyoming and eastern Idaho. Soon he’d be in the central mountains of Idaho, where he’d strike another blow for the United States and seek the retribution his soul needed.

  JULY 7, 2015

  “One of the penalties of refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.”

  —Plato

  McCall, Idaho

  As Samantha sat on the back deck, she looked out at the dark clouds in the east. She loved summer thunderstorms, especially in the evenings. Back in San Diego, she and Gordon would cuddle up on the long sectional couch with the kids and watch the dazzling display the lightning would showcase on the black sky. She smiled when she thought of those long-ago days, the oohs and ahhs that followed each flash, the kids laughing and squealing when the thunder would roll. It was hard for her to get excited about the storm coming their way now. Haley was still sick with no sign that her symptoms were subsiding. The natural remedies seemingly lost their potency, which caused great concern. For Nelson, the greatest concern was that Haley had stopped urinating, which could be a symptom of something far worse, renal failure. Renal or kidney failure had been a major cause of death from NARS, and the only way to stop her kidneys from failing was to stop the illness. Though that seemed impossible, Luke’s condition had vastly improved to the point that his fever had broken and he could now walk around on his own. His recovery gave them hope.

  Every day brought news of more death from what had now been given an official name, NARS (North American Respiratory Syndrome). The pandemic had spread to towns all along Highway 55 south of McCall to Boise. With no word from Gunny or Charles, chance of a cure seemed weak at best. Even if Charles showed up with a vaccine of some type there wasn’t the assurance that it would even work.

  Gordon’s days had now been consumed with preparing for Schmidt’s arrival. The members of the Cascadian leadership took offense to Gordon’s abrupt entry into their ranks, but after many conversations, he was given the newly created title of defense minister. This title didn’t mean much but it gave Gordon a position at the head table with the Cascadian political machine. With his role as McCall defense chief, he covered all the bases.

  Gordon unlocked the front door and walk
ed in; his body was feeling the fatigue of sleepless nights. His eyes focused on Samantha sitting on the back deck. The house was silent, almost too quiet. A flutter in his chest hit him as he rushed down the hallway to Haley’s door. His fears of seeing a lifeless Haley were alleviated when he saw her little body lying there, each breath labored. Emotion filled him when he imagined losing her. If he had any fear left in him, it was that. Losing Hunter had been unbearable, but if he lost Haley he had no idea how he or Samantha would cope.

  Haley shifted in her bed and began to cough. He was about to enter her room to provide comfort when a hand touched his.

  “No, don’t,” Luke said.

  Gordon looked at Luke’s frail frame. The skin on his face was drawn back; his cheekbones protruded sharply and his cheeks were hollowed. Even though his appearance looked bad, this was an improvement for him. Luke had survived the virus, and for them, he was a walking and talking sign of hope.

  “You should be resting,” Gordon said after closing Haley’s door.

  “I was but my back hurts from all the lying down and I’m starving.”

  Gordon smiled. “Come on, let’s get some food in your belly.”

  Both walked into the kitchen, where Luke began to open a can of fruit salad. Gordon saw Samantha was still sitting outside.

  “Hey, if you don’t need my help, I’m going to check on Sam.”

  “Sure,” Luke said, his mouth full.

  Gordon opened the slider and stepped onto the deck. His first step produced a creaking sound, which startled Samantha.

  “Hi,” she said. A glimmer of happiness appeared on her face when she saw him.

  He walked over to her side, bent down, and gave her a big kiss on her cheek.

  “Sit down next to me,” she said, patting a small spot on the oversized chair she sat in.

  He did what she requested and immediately put his arms around her. He looked out over the mountains and saw the dark clouds. “A storm’s coming. The rain will be needed for sure.”

  “I hope it’s not too late for our little garden,” she said, her eyes now focused on the tilled and dry dirt they had spent so much time working on two weeks before. So much had happened since they planted the garden that no one took the time to water it.