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

by G. Michael Hopf

  “Our garden will be fine.”

  “I need you to do something. I know you’re busy, but . . .”

  Gordon could see her getting emotional. “What? Anything.”

  “I’m beginning to think that our only hope in saving Haley is with this vaccine, but there’s no word from Smitty or Charles, nothing, and I’m just worried that we’re running out of time,” she said. Tears began to stream down her face.

  “Haley’s strong; she’ll make it. Look at Luke. He made it and Haley got sick a couple days behind him so I think that any day now, she’ll be up and about.”

  “I’m not a fool, Gordon. I know she’s not peeing anymore and her feet are swelling. I know what that means.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  Samantha cut him off and barked, “You don’t know that for sure, you’re guessing. I need you to do something!”

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “Go find Smitty and Charles. I told you that I needed you here, that I needed you to be with us, but if Haley is going to survive, we need to try every last method. We’re losing precious time.”

  Gordon didn’t know how to answer her. She was very emotional and in some ways, he knew she was right. He was leaving Haley’s life in the hands of other men. He knew what Haley’s new symptoms meant, but he didn’t want to say anything, as if keeping quiet about it would make them disappear. He had concerns about Schmidt’s forces and he hadn’t yet made any plans on how to get Sebastian back, but if he were to try to plead a case for staying and preparing for that, it would fall on deaf ears with his wife. It wasn’t that she didn’t think those were issues, it was that she prioritized Haley’s life above everything else.

  Knowing the only answer to her emotional request was to give her what she wanted, he answered, “I’ll leave immediately.”

  She reached out and took his face in her hands and said, “I don’t know if you’ll find them or if this will be a success, but we have to try. I hope you understand that I can’t lose her, I can’t.”

  He placed his hands over hers and said, “I understand, you don’t have to explain yourself. I love you, Samantha; you’re the most incredible woman and mother. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

  She stared deep into his blue eyes and said, “Thank you, but stop being so mushy and get your ass out there. Your family needs you.”

  Gordon hadn’t finished packing his Humvee for the trip to Olympia when a familiar sound echoed in the distance. He paused and listened to ensure his ears weren’t playing tricks on him. As he stood leaning against the cold metal door, the sound of heavy chops of propellers ripped through the air.

  “Looks like we have some visitors,” Gordon said out loud. He jumped in, fired up the Humvee, and sped off down the driveway.

  Cheyenne, Wyoming

  Conner’s hands shook as he read the paper he was just given. It was a transcript of operational details from Schmidt. If Conner could use one word to describe Schmidt it would be effective. He had executed a wide-ranging operation that Conner couldn’t have imagined as a possibility and completed it without anyone knowing. While Schmidt had been planning his troop movement toward McCall, he had created and deployed much smaller operations to infiltrate and eliminate the other groups, very much like what they had done to Barone.

  Before his departure, Schmidt had mentioned he had other irons in the fire. While they were tackling the Republic of Lakotah and PAE, Schmidt had been busy deploying two-man teams to other locations. A team was in place in Arizona, two teams were sent back to Georgia, and a team had made it to Olympia, Washington. These teams had two objectives: get close to the leadership and gather intelligence. The team in Washington reported back that they had easily made contact with the Western Cascadian leadership and were now settling in. Their hope was to provide critical information to Schmidt as he began his movement to Olympia after dealing with the Cascadians in McCall.

  A slight tap on the door signaled that his new assistant was there. She was unlike Dylan in her approach and demeanor, and after the brazen betrayal from Dylan it was welcome.

  “Come in!” he hollered.

  She opened the door slowly and stuck her head in. “Mr. President, sorry to disturb you but I have some important information.”

  “It’s okay, Heather, come on in,” he answered, waving her in.

  Heather stepped forward. Her body showed an uneasiness and tension that Conner wasn’t familiar with. When she reached the front of his desk, she quickly wiped away a tear from her cheek.

  Conner picked up on her tension right away, and when he saw the tear he immediately asked, “What is it?”

  “Mr. President, it’s Dylan,” she said as she clasped her hands together in front of her. “He’s dead. The guards found him in his cell,” she said, her voice showing emotional strain.

  “What? How?” Conner blurted out, shocked by the news.

  “I just received the call. They found him lying on the floor. He slit his wrists.”

  • • •

  Conner looked down at Dylan’s cold, pale body. A wave of emotions ran through him as he thought back to the first time he met him those many years ago. They had been through so much together and after losing Julia, Conner had no one else closer to him besides Cruz.

  “Why, why, Dylan? Why did you betray me? Why did you do it? It didn’t have to be this way,” Conner said, placing his hand on Dylan’s cold stiff hand. He removed it and put it back in his pocket. How strange dead skin feels, he thought. You can tell that the person or soul isn’t there anymore.

  He took one more look at his old friend and colleague, said a quick prayer, and stepped away. He would miss Dylan, but he would never forgive him for what he did.

  As the door to the mortuary closed behind him, he looked down the hallway before him. Half of the lights were on, and those that did illuminate were dim and flickering, making it almost impossible to see the door at the opposite end. He paused to take in the scene, thinking it an appropriate analogy. This hallway seemingly represented the path he was on: the areas that were lit became his vision and plan for the country and the dark or faint places were the surprises and obstacles that were out there but he couldn’t see. He stood under one of the flickering lights and sighed. No longer would he be caught in the darkness. Not if he could help it.

  McCall, Idaho

  Rainey and several police officers had also heard the helicopter and followed it until it landed in the hospital parking lot. Not taking any chances, Rainey and his men converged on the helicopter with guns drawn.

  The ramp on the helicopter lowered and a uniformed crew chief slowly stepped down, waving his hands.

  “Get on the ground!” Rainey ordered.

  The man did as he was ordered and dropped to the ground. Rainey and his men kept their positions, ready to engage whatever threat might appear from the helicopters.

  A moment passed, then three other people appeared from the darkness inside the belly of the CH-53 Sea Stallion helicopter and walked slowly down the ramp.

  “Stop right there and get down!” Rainey ordered.

  “Chief, it’s Gunny Smith. I’m with Charles Chenowith and his sister,” Gunny barked, his arms held high.

  Rainey leaned in and focused his eyes. He had only met Gunny twice but the man looked familiar.

  “Chief, we have the vaccine! Please let us proceed,” Gunny pleaded.

  Just then Gordon came speeding into the parking lot, the Humvee’s tires squealing as he abruptly stopped behind Rainey’s parked truck.

  Utter relief and joy filled Gordon as he laid eyes on Charles and Gunny. He assumed the woman was Charles’s sister and the box she was carrying was the vaccine.

  Not waiting a minute, Gordon hurried over to them. “You were always one for flashy entrances,” he joked.

  Gunny smiled and said
with a wink, “You know me, always the show boat.”

  “I assume you’re Charles?” Gordon asked.

  “Yes, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. This is my sister, Elle,” Charles answered.

  “Are you in charge?” Elle asked Gordon.

  “I can help you with whatever you need.”

  “I need a place to set up, a lab with power so I can begin to synthesize large batches,” she said, placing down her large case. She pulled out a mask and gloves and put them on.

  “I’m McCall Police Chief Rainey. Who are you?” Rainey asked, walking up.

  “Chief, this is Elle. We need to get her set up immediately,” Gordon answered excitedly.

  “Who?”

  “The woman who has a cure!” Gordon said.

  “Before we get everyone worked up, let me first say that what I have has never been tested on humans. I can’t guarantee it will work, so please temper any expectations,” Elle cautioned.

  “Let’s not waste any time, let’s get her a place to set up!” Gordon barked.

  “Right this way!” Rainey said.

  As they rushed off, Gordon turned to Gunny. “Where did you get the bird?”

  “It’s one of Master Sergeant Simpson’s choppers. I had an interesting encounter a day ago in central Washington.”

  “Interesting encounter?”

  “Long story, but I ran into Top and a convoy of his men on their way north. I recognized the vehicles and took a chance to see if they’d help. Long story short, he said yes and here I am.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. What did you have to give in return?” Gordon asked, curious.

  Gunny looked down and away, not wanting to answer the question, but knew he couldn’t get away with it. “I thought it was better to make a deal than not arrive or arrive too late.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I offered them the vaccine after we mass-produce it.”

  “Oh, that’s cool.”

  “So this bird will stay here until then.”

  Gordon looked at the chopper. His eyes widened when an idea came to mind.

  “I know that look, Van Zandt. What’s spinning in your fucked-up brain?”

  “We just might be able to use this old chopper if the timing presents itself.”

  “That negotiation is on you. Leave me out of it,” Gunny snarled, holding his hands up.

  “Did Top say where they were headed?”

  “He didn’t, but when I saw him, I fully expected to see the colonel. Needless to say it was a risk on my part, but the roads between here and Seattle are not safe. We barely escaped an ambush from some bandits.”

  “I’m not going to second-guess you. You made it, so that’s all that matters.”

  Both men discussed Barone’s demise and how so much had changed. The bond they shared was deep and out of everyone there, Gunny was one of Gordon’s oldest friends, besides Nelson. To have the privilege and blessing of people close to him he could trust was priceless and, in this world, a rarity. Gordon recognized how lucky he was, even given the bad things that had happened to him. For the most part, he and what remained of his family were fortunate. However, he needed to protect these blessings, and that didn’t happen by chance but by deliberate actions.

  JULY 10, 2015

  “I came, I saw, I conquered.”

  —Julius Caesar

  Horseshoe Bend, Idaho

  “

  Burn it down! Burn down every building, home, barn, shack that displays this!” Schmidt ordered his men, clutching a Doug flag.

  Without question, his men executed his orders. The first building to go up in flames was the small city hall. His platoon commanders were breaking away and going into the residential areas looking for any open display in support of Cascadia.

  As the hot flames began to engulf the city hall building he jumped off his tank and approached a line of half a dozen people who had been taken prisoner. He walked by each one and looked at them; all but the last man had their heads bowed down in fear.

  “It was an easy request but you chose not to follow it. Now you see what you’ve brought upon yourselves?” he chastised them.

  The fearless man at the end of the line spat at him.

  “Stand him up!” Schmidt ordered.

  Two of his soldiers rushed over and picked up the man, whose arms were tied behind his back.

  “You spit on me, but this isn’t a shocker. You spat on the United States when you embraced your silly idea of independence. Our country suffers an attack and before the ashes settle, you people rush to abandon it. You pack of traitors; you lack any sense of loyalty. While the president fights every day to get the country back on its feet, you selfishly work to destroy those efforts.”

  “Where were you when we were starving? Where were you when gangs came through here, threatening us?” the man scolded.

  “Right there is a selfish comment. Just because we didn’t come and wipe your ass right away, you blame your government and seek to destroy it.”

  “We don’t seek to destroy anything; we just choose to live how we want.”

  “Again another selfish comment; it’s about what you want, not what you can do for your country!”

  Screams, cries, and occasional gunfire could be heard in the distance as his men made their way through the small town, going house to house.

  Horseshoe Bend was the first town they encountered where they had seen open displays of Cascadian support and would also be the first to feel his wrath. The tiny city hall sat upon the main highway so as his convoy was passing, Schmidt saw the Doug flag flying out front. He immediately ordered his troops to halt as he investigated. That is where things turned very bad for the townspeople of Horseshoe Bend. The local mayor admitted to being the first elected Cascadian in the town, and his council was also proud Cascadians. Within mere moments, Schmidt acted, ordering the people to be arrested and the town sacked. Taking lessons from the past, he knew the only way to end these groups was to crush them and all those who supported them.

  “You won’t get away with this!” the man screamed.

  “Get away with it? Do you know how stupid that sounds? Is someone going to arrest me? I’m not breaking the law, Cascadian, I am the law!” His face was reddened, dark energy coursing through his veins. “In accordance with the powers vested in me by the President of the United States, I declare you enemies of the United States. Your punishment for treason is death; this sentence is to be carried out immediately!” Schmidt barked.

  Cries, moans, and begging spewed from the six captives.

  “Lieutenant, carry out the sentence!” Schmidt ordered a man standing behind him.

  “Yes, sir!”

  Schmidt turned away and walked back to his tank. He pulled a small pad of paper out of his pocket and began to take notes. As he wrote he blocked out the intense scene that was unfolding behind him as his men lined up the six town leaders against a small hillside.

  “Ready, aim, fire!” the lieutenant ordered. A short burst of gunfire followed, ending the cries and whimpers.

  On his pad of paper Schmidt wrote July 10, then stopped. “What’s this little shit town called?”

  “Horseshoe Bend!” one of his men called out.

  “Thank you,” he answered as he wrote the name next to the date and closed his pad. Turning around, he shouted, “Let’s clean up this place. I want to be in McCall by tomorrow afternoon at the latest!”

  McCall, Idaho

  With the full support of every person and resource in McCall, Elle’s vaccine was distributed widely within twenty-four hours of her arrival. The sickest were treated first but eventually every person in town was given a shot. All were praying it would work, as there were no guarantees on its effectiveness. Miraculously, some of the sickest were showing signs of improvement.
<
br />   Haley was one of the first to receive the vaccine. With Nelson’s help, she was given the shot, and by the late morning her fever was gone. However, she was not completely out of the woods, and Nelson worked immediately to address her kidney issues.

  With Haley and the town on the mend, Gordon pivoted to tackle the other issues. He was a man who usually had a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one for Sebastian’s situation specifically. He knew how he could stop Schmidt, but not at the risk of his brother. Situated in a large conference room in the police station, or what Rainey now called “the command post,” Gordon pinpointed locations for an ambush on a map in front of Rainey, Michael, Charles, and Gunny.

  “Gunny, you’ll be here at this location.” Gordon pointed to a small road that broke off from the main highway and crossed over a small bridge south of the much larger Rainbow Bridge.

  “Got it,” Gunny answered.

  “Set up ambush points here, here, and here,” Gordon said, pointing to several locations on the road. Based upon the topographical map, the area he had pointed to was where the road narrowed and heavy forestation would provide cover for his men.

  “We’ll be up here at the Rainbow Bridge. I only have enough C-4 to blow this bridge, not the one to the south . . .” Gordon commented.

  “Blow the bridge?” Rainey gasped.

  “Only if we have to; it’s a backup plan in case our ambushes fail,” Gordon answered him.

  “That would cut the one main route we have to Boise. We can’t do that,” Rainey asserted.

  “We can still go there via New Meadows, but if we fail here they will cross over, and then there’s not much in between them and us,” Gordon stressed.

  “He’s right,” Gunny said.

  “Okay, I have trust in your plan, but it makes me feel uneasy.”

  “I don’t want to do it either, but we can’t allow them to cross over it. To the south, we’ll have several points of ambush just in case they come up that way. The advantage we have is that the bridge to the south is very small and the road even narrower than the highway. They can get pinched there. If Schmidt is a smart man, he won’t commit all of his forces there, because there are a lot of choke points.”