The Jared Chronicles | Book 3 | Chains of Tyranny

by Tippins, Rick

  The helicopter appeared from behind a hill and raced over the men’s heads, banked sharply, and began a lazy orbit as the pilot surveyed his landing spot. After three full circles overhead, the pilot must have got a handle on the wind direction and deemed the grassy area the SEALs were waiting at a safe and acceptable LZ. The giant craft landed, and all the men climbed aboard for the short and less hectic ride back to Stockton.

  Back in Carnegie’s conference room, Josh debriefed the mission, which took all of two minutes. Kemper sat at the table, but remained silent since Josh seemed to be covering everything that took place. When Carnegie turned to Kemper, the SEAL pursed his lips.

  “Pretty much covers it, although I wouldn’t have burned the house. Seems like a bush-league Vietnam move, and we aren’t in Nam, we’re in America, and the folks who lived there are Americans.”

  Josh’s face reddened at the slight by the Navy man. Carnegie took a moment to see what Josh would do, and when the man controlled his white-hot temper, Carnegie spoke.

  “You are no longer in the safety of that sub you rode the first part of this mess out in. We are all right in the thick of it, and folks who advance to or near our level could become a danger to our mission, and we can’t have that.”

  Kemper drew a breath and squared his shoulders to the table. “Yeah, we rode in relative safety on that sub, and yeah, maybe we are late to the game, but I’ve been here long enough to know all you’ve done and all you’ve asked me and my men to do is take. We haven’t handed out so much as a single MRE to anyone outside this airport.”

  Carnegie sat studying the SEAL for nearly thirty seconds before he spoke. “True, and maybe we should shift to a slightly more humanitarian style. I will take that under submission.”

  Josh sat examining his boss’s features, knowing full well Carnegie not only would not, but could not shift to a more humanitarian mission. They quite simply didn’t have the reserves sufficient for anything even closely resembling relief for the local populace. When the meeting was over, Carnegie asked Josh to stay. Kemper left, closing the door behind him as he went. After the door closed, Carnegie waited a full minute before he spoke softly to Josh.

  “He’s gotta go. Figure it out, make it happen, but make it an accident. We need his men, and we don’t need them uncooperative because they think we clipped their captain.”

  Josh gave a curt nod. “I already have a plan.”

  Chapter 10

  John’s daily routine seemed to have morphed into just that, a routine. He slept on a cot complete with one military-issue sleeping bag an Army National Guardsman had delivered shortly after John’s arrival. The guardsman had also given John a toothbrush and told him to get toothpaste from Luther. John and Luther talked a lot the first couple of days, giving their own opinions on what had happened and how badly the world was suffering. Luther was convinced the human race was being eclipsed to a fraction of its former numbers.

  Luther told John he felt positive that within two years, humans would number only in the millions. No one would know for sure because of the separation made by continents and vast distances, but Luther was confident the world would be left with nothing more than small pockets of hard souls scratching out an existence however they could. There would be no more giant cities like before the solar flare. Without technology to bring in food, water and other essential needs, large groups of people would literally drop off like the autumn leaves.

  Luther further believed that without garbage and sewer services, disease would lay claim to any large body of humans who attempted to replicate their previous big-city living practices. Luther told John he was at the age where he really didn’t care what happened. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, it was simply he’d lived a long rich and fulfilling life, and when the end came, so be it. Luther had no illusions about the future holding a spot for him and knew he’d be dead long before the world came even close to leveling itself out into a new and balanced ecosystem.

  Luther explained to John how it was his opinion that small groups of people would be compelled to claim plots of land large enough to support their water and food needs. Other groups would settle in other areas also suitable in size and bounty for their needs. Peace would prevail due to mankind being preoccupied with the toils needed to survive. War would only return when a group of people became self-sufficient enough to stockpile enough food in order to turn their efforts to warring on a neighbor and not struggling for their next meal. History would repeat itself, Luther solemnly informed John.

  When the two men weren’t talking, John worked out, doing hundreds of push-ups and dozens of pull-ups from the rafters overhead. He did hundreds and sometimes thousands of squats coupled with different types of lunges before settling into a rigorous abdominal workout that left him feeling light-headed. Once a week Luther and John were allowed to shower, so after most of his workouts, John would use an old wet rag to give himself a combat bath.

  When the two prisoners were taken out to shower, John soaked in every detail around him while traversing to and from the small barracks showers not more than fifty yards from where he and Luther were kept locked in the shed. John mapped out a hundred ways to disarm and kill the guard who escorted the two men. He scanned the fence lines he could see during the walk back and forth and noted they were all topped with strands of barbed wire.

  John didn’t see a strong security presence, which he assumed was a manpower issue. Carnegie no doubt used an iron fist in lieu of more men and women to pull security. The more times he was marched to the showers, the more John could begin formulating a plan to leave the airport. The colonel’s base of operations did not include most of the airport. Carnegie had sequestered himself and all his assets to the Army National Guard Headquarters portion of the airport, which was smaller and therefore easier to control.

  This small base was home to the Army National Guard’s 3-140 Aviation Unit, which flew the CH-47F Chinook helicopter, a twin-engine, tandem-rotor, heavy-lift aircraft. Not a single Chinook had survived the event, and now they sat off in the weeds where Carnegie had ordered his men to push them in order to make room for the few working helicopters he’d brought to the base.

  The personnel from the unit unlucky enough to have either been stranded at the base at the time of the event, or ignorant enough about the scope of the event to have returned to their duty station, were now stuck serving under Carnegie’s command. John had previously worked with several of the Army Aviation types on his operations before his fall from Carnegie’s grace.

  He knew a lot of these men and women, who to a person refused to engage him on any level now that he’d been labeled a black sheep. This made it very evident to John that the men and women here were frightened, but also viewed Carnegie as a lifeline. The colonel had obviously forbidden any fraternization with the two prisoners, which the base personnel took to heart. Try as both John and Luther might, not a single guard so much as smiled at either man. Other than a few terse orders, the guards said nothing. Fear was a great substitute for professionalism, John surmised.

  Even with the guards’ blind loyalty to what John felt were bankrupt morals on Carnegie’s part, he still refused to engage in any escape plan that included killing any of the guards. John understood the men and women following the colonel’s every order were not like him. They viewed the world and its complicated internal workings from an altitude of about ten feet AGL. John, on the other hand, enjoyed a far greater understanding of what was going on with the world, the base and Carnegie’s intentions.

  Although during John’s career, he’d worked in plenty of team environments, he always preferred to operate stag. This forced him to understand things in a deeper sense. Unchaperoned, he maintained nothing to fall back on in most cases; therefore he absolutely needed a full working knowledge of not only the tactical side of what he was doing, but the political side as well. Working within the teams he’d operated with in the past had been far less problematic in that their missions usually included
support from air, land and sea assets. If John found himself being followed away from an area of operation, he would call in an airstrike. If he was running for his life with only the sea in front of him, he’d swim out to a submarine, and so it went.

  Now because of a growing moral compass he never knew he had, John was planning a nonlethal escape plan. Jeez, he thought, is Jared’s boyish innocence starting to rub off on me?

  The following morning Carnegie order all base personnel to the main hangar for what he called a leadership address. Once everyone was inside the hangar save the men and women working perimeter security, Carnegie took the floor.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are in the worst of times, times the likes of which this country has never seen. Sure, we had our revolution and a nasty civil war, but I guarantee you all this country has lost more souls in the past several months than in all those wars combined.” Carnegie took a moment to let that sink in before he continued, “These tough times are not going to pass without all of us having to make some very difficult decisions. Supplies have stopped coming from Colorado, along with the fact that we haven’t heard from them in over a month. People, we are running out of things that keep us alive.”

  The crowd stared back at Carnegie, eyes blinking with expressions that told the colonel they were looking to him for guidance. Carnegie smiled inwardly as he read the desperation on their faces. It was exactly what he’d hoped to see when he prepared this speech.

  “You are going to be asked to do things in the future that may seem to run afoul of everything this great country was built on. I’m here to tell you that if we don’t act, we will all die before the end of this year. I don’t know if the rebuilding of America is even possible in our lifetime, but I can tell you one thing. We can build the American way right here in California. We can thrive, establish a government, enforce laws, raise crops, and rise from the ashes of this disastrous event.”

  The group in front of Carnegie murmured as the colonel paused for dramatics. A man in the rear of the group called out, “What do we get out of all this, and what are we going to be asked to do?”

  Carnegie stared hard at the man before continuing. “Our mission has changed from restoring the infrastructure of the country to one of survival. We will no longer be in the business of bringing people here who were considered valuable before the event. We need people brought in who can work the fields and tend crops. We need men and women who know how to do this work because this will be how we feed your families. We have already laid out a plan for taxing people who are fully self-sustaining through all this. They will resist at first, and we will push back with the fact that we are bringing law and order to the region. As we get back on our feet, I am sure we can begin to offer other services such as road repairs along with other essentials.”

  Carnegie hesitated a moment, then moved closer to the group. “If anyone has a problem with this, you are free to leave immediately. You and your families can pack your things and head right on out the gate, and I will not stop you. Once you’ve left though, you will not be allowed back inside. Those of you who stay will be living under the laws we set forth here today. You will be fed and sheltered, but you will abide by all the rules of this base as we all begin the rebuilding process.”

  The group of people again discussed what Carnegie just said in low murmurs. Carnegie waited a full minute, and when not a single person chose to leave the hangar, he nodded his approval.

  “Great,” Carnegie exclaimed. “I knew you all had the American fighting spirit in you. The base rules will be hung on the outside of this hangar. Read them. There will be no excuses for rule violations. Until we are on more solid footing, the base will be run like what it is, a military unit.”

  The late January sun in Northern California hung low on the skyline even though it was nearing the middle of the day. Devon’s horse remained tethered to Jared’s saddle horn while Devon’s saddle sat empty. Devon had yet to showed his face, leaving Jared to wonder if the teen was watching them or actually out scouting.

  Jared’s rear end ached from saddle fatigue as he wrapped the reins around his saddle’s horn and wound his wristwatch. The little timepiece told him it was 11:47. The sun told him it was 11:47 a.m. Jared finished tightening the spring on his only vestige of the more organized life he had known before the solar flare. Jared turned and stretched his aching back to the right and then back to the left, feeling his muscles resist stubbornly.

  As he turned, he smiled back at the two women. “Hope everyone is as miserable as I am.” He chuckled.

  “Maybe we should walk a little,” Shannon offered.

  Jared swung his left leg over his mount’s neck and settled into the saddle facing backward. “Or maybe we ride like this for a while,” he countered with a devilish grin.

  Essie immediately began squirming to sit backward, but was stopped when Shannon grabbed her. “No, I don’t want you falling off,” she admonished the young girl.

  Shannon shot Jared a straighten up look, and he too conformed by performing another 180-degree turn in the saddle. After Jared settled back into his seat, he glanced at the watch and thought of how less than six months ago he would have been thinking about lunch, trying to decide between a dozen different cultural cuisines made available by his former employer. Nowadays he oftentimes skipped lunch. Many times, he was simply too busy to stop to eat along with the fact that skipping a meal now and again was stretching their dwindling food supply further out into the future.

  As the group rode, they were forced to turn back and find an alternate route on several occasions due to the steep terrain in the area. Using the road would have been much easier, but without John as backup and with the tremendous responsibility of keeping everyone safe, Jared insisted they go cross-country. There were times as the day wore on that all the riders were driven from atop their steeds and made to lead the animals because of the ruggedness of the land they traveled across.

  The four riders continued to push east throughout the remainder of their first day of travel, stopping only when the sun was low and threatening to leave them in darkness. Jared stopped the group with just enough time to find a suitable campsite, set up, and prepare a meager meal. The site was in a depression the terrain afforded them where several medium-size oak trees grew. The trees offered a little shelter from the biting wind while offering a place not right out in the open to spend an evening. The ground was soft and spongy underfoot due to a twelve-inch-deep layer of oak leaves.

  As they finished eating, the sun slowly disappeared as darkness crept forward like a stealthy dark cloak, not sure if it was safe, but coming nonetheless. Looking around the group, which now numbered four, Jared wondered where in the heck Devon had run off to. He wasn’t worried yet, but he was getting concerned the teen wouldn’t be able to find them after the distance they’d traveled.

  Jared thought about setting up a security watch rotation, but realized they were so far off the beaten track the likelihood of contact with another human was low enough to merit trading a little security for sleep. When he brought this idea to the others, there was no pushback. It was cold and getting colder now that the sun was gone. Jared watched Essie as she moved her shoulders about, trying to stay warm in her oversized coat. The girl’s hands were nowhere to be seen, as she had pulled them inside her sleeves. Essie’s nose was running, causing her upper lip to glisten slightly in what remained of the dim light, reminding Jared how far removed they were from their past. In the past a runny nose would be wiped with tissue; nowadays a runny nose was wiped with the sleeve of a shirt if at all.

  It was 6:30 p.m. by the time they finished eating, and with nothing to do, no fire to hang around, and everyone too tired for idle chitchat, Shannon scooped up Essie and headed for the four-person tent. Essie might have been cold outside, but once all four of them were inside the tent, wrapped in their sleeping bags, they would be as warm as the devil’s handshake. Stephani was the next to wordlessly head toward the tent. Jared sat alone for s
everal minutes, thinking how much life each day stole from everyone.

  As he sat alone, immersed in his thoughts, he heard one of the horses stamp the ground as the animal shifted its weight. Jared instantly chastised himself inwardly for not thinking about the horses and how they should be handled during their overnight stay in the mountains. Slowly Jared hefted himself up and walked over to where the group had dropped all the gear that had been carried by the horses during their ride. He retrieved a coil of rope and walked out into the darkness. Jared moved about fifty yards from where he and the women had pitched their tent before he began stringing the rope between two trees. He hung the rope low to the ground and left it hanging to the point of touching the ground at its center.

  Once the rope was secured between the two trees, Jared took the horses one at a time and tethered them with about two feet of rope to the original rope secured between the trees. This gave the animals fifty yards to slide back and forth on as they grazed. Jared wasn’t too worried about water since the horses drank heartily every time the group passed near or through a stream during their day’s ride. Staring at the horses in the dark, Jared hoped they wouldn’t be a tangled mess in the morning.

  As Jared drew to within twenty yards of the camp, his heart skipped a beat as he froze in place. The rifle, which until now had been slung across his back, swung around, landing nicely in his trembling hands. Just as the adrenaline poured into his bloodstream, Jared exhaled loudly as he recognized the figure sitting next to all their gear, hunched over a small stove, obviously preparing food. Devon was back. The teen looked up as Jared walked into camp, and smiled awkwardly.