The War Journals: Resistance

by Cory Mccoy

  After running Jesse through the gamut of tests, Johann allowed him to go jogging with me in the mornings. Though, he wasn't comfortable with any other kind of training yet. Jesse understood when he was told that we needed to see how his wound was responding to mild activity before becoming more involved.

  I could tell he was in pain, but he was trying hard to hide it. Connor wouldn't complain about it he would say. He was right, Connor would probably suck it up and deal with it privately. It had been his worst quality. I worried about him, in the back of my mind I feared that he felt responsible to continue what we had started.

  We spent much of the next month adjusting to the lifestyle of this small town. Helping the locals out where they needed and finding ways to occupy our days. Jeanine had moved us in the very day Johann gave Jesse the go ahead. Jesse was happy about it, he had grown attached to Jeanine quickly. I couldn't begrudge him that. She was the prodigal grandmother; always worried, nurturing, and one hell of a good cook.

  I think Jeanine enjoyed it just as much as he did. Her kids had been gone for years, only visiting occasionally with her grand children. Her son James, the youngest, had two grown kids himself. He was some kind of a business man and traveled constantly. Luckily he had been in New Zealand with his wife and youngest son when the war started. They were stuck on a perpetual vacation.

  Her daughter Sophia now lived in Sacramento with her sixteen year old daughter, JoAnne. She had been named her after Johann, with whom she was extremely close. Jeanine had only heard from her once in the last few months, when she called to tell her they were safe. I think having us around helped her deal with her her anxiety about her children's well being.

  For the next month we settled into our new routine, each day growing closer to our new friends. We were even getting to know the members of the recon teams, even though they tried to remain professional at all times. Soon enough Jeanine and the owner of the one restaurant in town were having a little banquet every night and nearly everyone would be there. Everyday was like a mini thanksgiving.

  By the end of summer Jesse and I's morning runs had grown into a community event. When I started training him in Krav Maga down by the docks, a crowd would gather and soon we had a full class of town members and military personnel alike.

  Jesse excelled, he pushed himself harder than the others. He had grown fiercely determined to be the best and his Parkour skills gave him an advantage that I hadn't expected. He was fast and didn't hesitate to fling himself at his sparring partner, often catching them off guard. He was quickly proving to be too much for even some of the marines.

  He never submitted, always fighting and struggling to gain the upper hand even when outclassed. His intensity soon burned into the minds of the others, helping them to realize that we couldn't possibly be safe here forever. The PLA would come for us at some point and we had to be ready.

  An unexpected visit in late summer cemented our resolve and withdrew all doubts that our safe haven was hidden away from the world.