Creeping Tyranny

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Creeping Tyranny Page 17

by Robert Boren


  “Or something?” Robbie asked.

  “Yeah,” Morgan said. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

  “In a few minutes,” Robbie said. “I want to find out what’s going on outside. I’m sure Justin will fill us in as soon as he gets up here.”

  Morgan sighed. “Okay, I can wait, as long as it’s not too long.”

  Killer trotted up the stairs, going directly to Morgan, nuzzling her with his massive head.

  “Hi, boy,” she said, petting him. Robbie came over and stroked his back as Justin trudged up the stairs.

  “Glad I went to their room when I did,” Justin said. “I think they’re about to get busy.”

  “Don’t tease them,” Morgan said.

  “Tease? I’m envious,” Justin said as he plopped down onto the couch.

  “So, what’s happening out there?” Robbie asked.

  “Crazy stuff,” Justin said. “The National Guard has chased most of the Islamists out of the area, and the gangs just went home.”

  “So things should be getting better?” Morgan asked.

  “Depends on what you mean by better,” Justin said. “The state government is working closely with the Feds. They want to lock this mess down in a hurry and then get business and agriculture moving again. The country needs it to survive, with so many other places messed up. They’re going to apply very tight controls.”

  “What kind of controls?” Robbie asked.

  “First, they’re going to cut the LA area into grids with checkpoints. That will keep the gangs from being able to move around and victimize people.”

  “Did they lay out the grids already?” Robbie asked.

  “We’re on the edge of one. There’s a dividing line on Inglewood Ave to the east and El Segundo Blvd to the north.”

  “Interesting,” Robbie said. “When are they gonna put this into place?”

  “It’ll take them a few days,” Justin said. “I don’t have a problem with the grids and checkpoints, actually. That’s not so bad. It’s the other stuff.”

  “What other stuff?” Morgan asked.

  “Rumors, but from good sources,” Justin said. “They plan to force everybody back to work, and they aren’t going to allow anybody to quit or move from one job to another for a while. They want stability.”

  “They can’t do that,” Robbie said. “We aren’t slaves.”

  “My boss thinks it’s BS, but everybody else I talked to believes it.”

  Robbie’s phone rang. He picked it up and checked the number. “Work.”

  “No way,” Morgan said. Robbie put the phone to his ear, getting up and walking into the kitchen.

  “Did you have a job before this started, Morgan?” Justin asked.

  “Cocktail waitress at one of the card clubs in Gardena,” she said. “Not exactly a strategic job.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Justin said. “Relaxing after work is important. I’ll bet your job will be back in no time.”

  Robbie came back in and sat on the couch next to Morgan. “We’re opening again, in three days. They wanted to make sure I was available.”

  “Even the expensive places are opening, eh?” Justin asked. “Things may be getting back to normal after all.”

  “Maybe,” Robbie said.

  “I’ll probably get called too, then,” Morgan said. “I’d rather not have to deal with going into Gardena.”

  “That’s outside of the checkpoint,” Justin said. “Like my job. You’ll get a special card to pass by the checkpoints.”

  “I’m lucky, I guess,” Robbie said. “My job should be in the grid.”

  “Where is it?” Morgan asked.

  “On Sepulveda in Manhattan Beach,” he said. “Just past Rosecrans.”

  “Very upper crust,” Justin said.

  “It’s expensive there, that’s for sure,” Morgan said.

  “That’s not my only job,” Robbie said.

  “What’s the other one?” Morgan asked.

  “He’s a writer,” Justin said. “Pretty good one, too.”

  “Oh, really?” Morgan asked. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”

  “Never got around to it,” Robbie said.

  “What do you write?”

  “Articles for two political websites, and fiction. Short stories and novels.”

  “You’re kidding,” she said. “What genre?”

  “Action-adventure, Horror, and Sci-Fi,” Robbie said. “I’ve got to work on that again tomorrow. Missed a couple days.”

  “You guys always make it sound like you’re driven to write,” Justin said. “It’s so melodramatic.”

  “I suppose,” Robbie said. “It does bother me when I can’t write. Don’t know why.”

  “I think it’s cool,” Morgan said. “Can I read some of your stuff?”

  “Sure, but it’ll make me nervous,” Robbie said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because he thinks his work sucks,” Justin said. “He’s wrong, of course. It’s very good. Artists crack me up.”

  “Listen,” Morgan whispered.

  “Holy crap, is that Steve and Colleen?” Justin asked.

  “That didn’t take long,” Morgan said, her expression a mixture of amusement and jealousy.

  “I’ve got to take off for a while,” Justin said. “Have to pick up some material from a vendor and take it to the shop. Mind if I leave Killer here?”

  “No problem,” Robbie said. “That why you came back?”

  “Yeah, can’t take the dog where I’m going. See you guys later.” He got up and left.

  “I can’t take this,” Morgan said, standing up. She held out her hand to Robbie.

  “Can’t take what?” he asked.

  “That,” she said, nodding towards the downstairs as Steve and Colleen got louder.

  Robbie looked at her tenuously as he got to his feet.

  “Oh, please,” Morgan said, dragging him towards the bedroom. “It’s time. I’m gonna wear you out.” They went into the master bedroom and closed the door.

  ***

  Sid and Yvonne were the first to drive through the gate into the RV Park. Connie ran out of the office to meet them.

  “Where’s Sam?” she asked.

  “He’ll be along pretty soon,” Yvonne said. “Don’t worry, nobody got hurt.”

  “We heard a few loud explosions. One of them rattled the windows.”

  Sid laughed. “Must have been the last boulder they brought down.”

  “Everything went okay here, I take it,” Yvonne said.

  “Yeah, it was quiet,” Connie said. “Almost too quiet. What’s holding up Sam?”

  “He’s following Clem home,” Sid said.

  “Clem rode with them in the Tigr,” Connie said.

  “We picked up a piece of mobile artillery,” Yvonne said. “It’s a half-track, so it’s slow. Clem’s driving it. Sam and John are guarding the rear.”

  “Oh,” Connie said. “You guys got the pass closed up, obviously.”

  “And then some,” Sid said. “We used the artillery piece to bring a bunch of boulders down on top of the ruined troop transport trucks. It’ll take months to clear it, and there’s no other way through. We should be safe here for a while.”

  “Good,” Connie said.

  “Listen, here they come,” Yvonne said. “Hear the squeaking?”

  “I never hear things as well as you do,” Sid said.

  “Oh, I hear it,” Connie said. “Sounds scary.”

  “I thought it was a tank when I heard it,” Sid said. “Good thing it wasn’t.”

  “Seriously,” Yvonne said.

  Sam drove through the gate in the Tigr, positioning the vehicle with its guns pointing down the road.

  “Sam!” Connie cried, running to meet him. They embraced as John got out of the passenger side. The mobile artillery piece creaked into view and approached slowly.

  “Where do you want this thing?” Clem asked as he rolled up.

  “
Good question,” Sam said. “Why don’t you pull it behind the clubhouse for now, so it’s out of sight.”

  “Okay,” Clem said. He drove the smelly diesel vehicle through the gate as others at the park approached to watch.

  “Wow,” Sarah said as she ran up. “Look at that thing.”

  John rushed over, taking her into his arms. “Hi, sweetie,” he said.

  “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said, hugging him. “Nobody got hurt?”

  “Not a scratch,” John said. “How’s Harry?”

  “He’s getting better pretty fast,” Sarah said. “Dr. Grace just checked him out a little while ago. Nancy’s still staying by his side all the time.”

  Clem parked the mobile artillery piece and shut down the engine. People gathered around it.

  “That what was causing all the big booms?” asked one man.

  “Yeah,” Clem said. “This sucker puts out some noise. We brought a bunch of boulders down in the pass. The enemy won’t be able to go through there for quite a while.”

  “That means we’re safe for now?” another man asked.

  “Yep, that’s what it means,” Clem said. “I hope anyway.”

  “Good spot,” Sam said as he and Connie walked behind the clubhouse. “How much fuel is left in that thing?”

  “Half a tank or so,” Clem said. “It doesn’t burn that much, but then it doesn’t have much get up and go either.”

  “No, but it’s got it where it counts,” Sam said. “Couldn’t believe what we were able to do in that pass.”

  “You think the authorities are gonna mess with us about that?” Sid asked. “We made a big expensive problem for them. Might as well have blown a bridge.”

  Sam shrugged. “I’m sure some people will be happier than others. There are a few towns on the other side of that pass.”

  “And now those people are trapped,” said somebody in the crowd. “Great.”

  “It was the right thing to do, as far as I’m concerned,” Clem said. “It was that or flee the area.”

  Sam’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the number. “Officer Ryan.” He answered the call. “Yeah, Ryan?”

  “Can you open the gate for us? We need to talk.”

  “Oh, you’re here?” Sam asked. “Sure, I’ll be right down. Sit tight.”

  “They’re here?” Connie asked. “They always call first.”

  “Yeah,” Sam said, heading for his Jeep. “He sounded upset to me. Be back in a few minutes. Could you make sure we have some coffee?”

  “Sure, honey,” Connie said. She rushed into the office as Sam drove down the road.

  “Wonder if they know about our handiwork already?” John asked.

  “Maybe,” Clem said.

  “Probably,” Sid said. “They have satellite capability. They might have seen it that way, or maybe somebody trying to get north called them up.”

  “We best keep our mouths shut as much as possible,” John said. “We might be in some trouble for what we did.”

  “Yeah,” Clem said. They sat nervously next to the clubhouse, waiting for Sam to get back.

  “John, can we go relax for a while?” Sarah asked.

  “Sure, honey,” he said, getting up. He followed her back to their rig.

  “Maybe I should go join Yvonne,” Sid said. “I could use a nap. My hours are all screwed up now.”

  “Yeah, you do that,” Clem said. He watched Sid walk away, and then went into the clubhouse to watch TV.

  Sam drove back through the gate, the CHP cruiser behind him. Officer Ryan was driving, Officer Patrick in the passenger seat. Both vehicles parked in front of the office. They rushed inside, Sam shutting the door behind them.

  “Want some coffee?” Connie asked. “Got some brewing right now. Be just a minute or two.”

  “That would be great,” Officer Patrick said.

  “I think I’ll pass,” Officer Ryan said. “Little too late in the day for me.”

  “Okay, take a seat,” Sam said. “What’s on your mind?”

  “We know about your operation,” Ryan said.

  “The pass?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “The National Guard and the US Army are pissed.”

  “Why?” Connie asked.

  “They wanted to trap the enemy in Jamul,” Ryan said. “At least that’s what they said.”

  “You think there’s something else going on?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “I think there are traitors in their midst. I think they’re using the Islamists to terrorize the citizens into sitting still for their martial law plans.”

  “They wanted us to come arrest you guys,” Patrick said, leaning back in his chair. “We refused.”

  “How can you refuse?” Connie asked.

  “They have no jurisdiction over us,” Ryan said. “The brass is behind us on this, so far.”

  “So why’d you come out here?” Sam asked.

  “To warn you and pick your brain,” Ryan said.

  “Warn us about what?” Connie asked.

  “You might get a visit from the National Guard,” Ryan said. “They might try to confiscate your weapons.”

  “Dammit,” Sam said.

  “Don’t give them your weapons,” Ryan said.

  “Wouldn’t that cause them to shoot us?” Connie asked.

  “I doubt it,” Patrick said. “They’re trying to get people on board for martial law. I think a massacre of citizens would make that a little bit difficult, even inside the California Government.”

  “So you’re saying we should resist?”

  “Yeah, don’t let them in the gate,” Ryan said. “Ask for a warrant. Tell them you’ll go public if they force their way in. There is no martial law in this area. They have no authority over you guys, but if you let them in, they might grab you and your weapons.”

  “This is scary,” Connie said. “Coffee’s done.” She went to the counter and poured a cup for Patrick. “You want one, honey?”

  “Sure,” Sam said.

  “What possessed you guys to blow up that pass, anyway?” Ryan asked.

  “We captured that GAZ Tigr and found that it had both the machine gun and the grenade launcher stowed in the back. I know how to operate this kind of stuff, and so does Clem.”

  “Clem?” Patrick asked. “That old coot?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “He helped me get the video surveillance and the gate alarm rigged up, too. Valuable guy. Even good in a fight. Anyway, we knew that Tigr and our hunting weapons wouldn’t be enough to defend this place from an attack. When we heard they were going to use route 94 as a pipeline, we decided to blow up their trucks in the pass. We didn’t expect to bring all the boulders and rubble down. Got that idea when we captured their mobile artillery piece.”

  “Mobile artillery?” Ryan asked.

  “Wanna see it?” Sam asked.

  “Wait, take your coffees,” Connie said, bringing cups for Patrick and Sam. She poured one for herself, and they went outside, heading for the back side of the clubhouse.

  “Lord have mercy,” Ryan said when he saw the artillery piece. “How much damage did you do in that pass? I only saw one picture. Looked like mostly busted up trucks.”

  “We brought down a bunch of large boulders,” Sam said. “It’ll take months to clear it.”

  “Good,” Patrick said. “That means the back door is officially closed. Screw the Feds. Screw the National Guard. This will protect the people in San Diego.”

  “Settle down, junior,” Ryan said, glancing at Patrick.

  “Sorry, boss, but this pisses me off,” Patrick said. “Our job is to protect citizens, not steer public opinion by letting them get killed.”

  “We figure that the only remaining back way into San Diego is I-8,” Sam said. “There’s no reason for the enemy to backtrack to this RV Park. It’s not strategic, and it’s too far out of the way now.”

  “There is a reason you’re forgetting about,” Ryan sa
id.

  “What’s that?” Connie asked.

  “Revenge,” Ryan said. “It would take them a lot of effort, though, so you might be safe for a while at least. They’ll have a big problem if they try to use I-8 to enter San Diego.”

  “Yeah, we’ve got a major force guarding I-8 in Alpine,” Patrick said. “No way they get through that.”

  “Assuming we can trust the forces there,” Sam said.

  “Yeah, assuming that, and I’m not comfortable at this point,” Ryan said.

  “What do you think is going to happen?” Connie asked.

  “I think all the major population centers are going under martial law within the next week or so,” Ryan said. “It’s going to stop the immediate problem in most of those areas. There are still a lot of enemy fighters hiding out in north San Diego County and the Inland Empire. The battle is going to move to those areas, but at least the population there is lower. The body count won’t be nearly as bad.”

  “You’re thinking martial law is dangerous, though, aren’t you?” Connie asked.

  “Once you let the government use the military to take control of the population, they have a hard time giving up that power,” Ryan said. “It makes things so much easier for them.”

  Chapter 16 – Enemies Foreign and Domestic

  “They’re still going,” Morgan said, turning on her back, breath still coming fast. “Listen to that.”

  “What?” Robbie asked, in a daze, looking at the ceiling as sweat rolled off his forehead.

  “Colleen and Steve.” She giggled. “I really threw you for a loop, didn’t I?”

  He turned his head towards her, tears forming in his eyes, which locked with hers.

  “Wow,” she whispered. “I haven’t gotten a look like that before.”

  “From me?”

  “From anybody,” Morgan said. She used a tissue from the nightstand to dry his eyes and his forehead.

  “You’re right, they are still going,” Robbie said, smiling at her.

  “Think they heard us?”

  “Doubt it,” Robbie said. “I used to sleep down there, remember? My parents could be pretty frisky, but I never heard it. Not even once.”

  “Then how do you know they were frisky?”

  “The way they looked at each other sometimes. Playful stuff they’d do.”

  “Uh oh, your dad didn’t smack her butt, did he?” Morgan asked, eyes dancing.

 

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