Craig heaved a deep sigh. “Well, right now I’m living up in northeastern Tennessee, near Roan Mountain. I was in Charlotte when the first attacks happened, and I grew up in Raleigh.”
“Do you live alone?”
“No, I live with family,” Craig explained. “We live in a group with a number of other families. My Dad was on a plane when the first attacks happened, and my Mom and sister were on their way to D.C.” He cleared his throat. “They actually saw the flash from the first nuclear attack.”
“How did you wind up here?” Chinn asked.
“Somebody has to stand up and fight.”
CHAPTER 4
Thursday, October 18, 2018 – 7:00 p.m. – Fontana Dam
That night, Joshua convened an emergency meeting of the entire camp at the community shelter next to Drew’s cabin. Jim offered an invocation, and Jack led the Pledge of Allegiance.
“Folks, I feel like I’m repeating what I said when I organized this group twenty months ago, but the world changed again today,” Joshua began. “I thought we might have some hope of saving our country under Governor Harper’s leadership, but that hope was shattered today. I never thought I could say this, but things are worse.”
“Josh, how does this affect us?” Rebecca asked.
“That’s a good question, Becca. There is a lot of uncertainty now, and my thought is that we have to be prepared to fend for ourselves. AIS is still active here in western North Carolina, and it’s clear that the government isn’t going to help us deal with them. We also have to face the reality that this could lead to an all-out dictatorship under Armando.”
Jack chimed in. “We have to be prepared to defend ourselves. And we need to start building relationships with others who share our views.”
John Moore, an older man with gray hair and wire-frame glasses, spoke up. “I’m not sure about that. We need to be careful about reaching out to anyone else. We don’t know who we can trust. I think we just need to keep to ourselves.”
“On the contrary, that’s why we need to build relationships now,” Jack retorted. “Now is the time to find out who shares our views and learn who we can trust.”
John started to speak up again but was interrupted by a smack on the thigh from his wife, Ruth, who served on the camp council. Ruth was an attractive woman in her mid-50s with shoulder-length blonde hair. She looked younger than her years.
“Speaking of relationships, where is Drew?” Perry asked.
Joshua clenched his teeth. “I don’t know. He left a couple of days ago and, as usual, wouldn’t say where he was going. He said I was better off not knowing.”
Several in the crowd let out exasperated sighs.
John raised his hand again. “I may be opening up a can of worms here, but should we still be pledging allegiance to that flag?” He gestured toward Old Glory.
“What do you mean?” Joshua asked.
“Well, does the country that flag represents even still exist?” John said. “The country that bears that flag seems to contradict everything it is supposed to represent. I think we’re pledging allegiance to a dictatorship.”
Joshua started to respond, but was interrupted by a loud, booming voice. “I cannot believe what I’m hearing!”
Everyone turned in unison to face Kane Martin, who had rocketed to his feet. Kane was 6’2” tall, slender and muscular, had blonde hair in a neatly trimmed crew cut and still looked the part of an Army Infantryman who wouldn’t shy away from a bare-knuckles fight. His eyes were narrowed and his fists clenched, and his bulging veins were exposed by a dark green muscle shirt.
“Let’s all take a deep breath,” Joshua said.
“I will NOT calm down!” Kane’s face flushed red. “I swore an oath of loyalty to the United States of America. It sounds like you people are turning your back on our nation.”
“I’m just saying I think our nation has turned its back on us,” John retorted. “It’s time for us to accept that.”
“I cannot believe Sergeant Major believed in you people.” Kane pointed at John, then Joshua. “He thought you were patriots.”
“Kane…” Joshua rose to his feet. Kane waved him off, did an abrupt about-face and stormed out of the meeting. The others in the group sat speechless. Joshua briefly made eye contact with Jim, who cocked an eyebrow and shook his head.
Jack rose to his feet. “I’ll go after him.”
Jim spoke up. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He needs some time to cool off. There is something deeper behind his reaction. It’s not just about the pledge.”
Jack stopped and pursed his lips, appearing deep in thought. “You’re probably right. But we do need to get him back into the fold.”
***
8:45 p.m. – Southeastern Tennessee
Melanie stared out the window into the darkness as Major Chinn traversed the narrow, winding, mountain road. Craig was sound asleep in the back seat, snoring so loud she wondered if he might attract a wild animal looking for a mate.
How could this happen? she wondered. What do I do now? Where do I go? Are my parents okay? She sniffled loudly.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Major Chinn said, as if he knew what she was thinking.
“I know you’ll do your best to protect me,” Melanie said between sniffs. “But I’m afraid. What do I do now? My entire life was blown away today.”
Major Chinn was silent for a moment before speaking. “You’ll find your way.”
“I’m also worried about my parents,” she added. “If they connect them to me, and me to Governor Harper…”
“Where are they?”
“Louisiana.”
She turned and again stared out into the darkness that had overtaken the day. They were both silent for the remainder of the drive. About thirty minutes later they turned off onto an even narrower road that wound through the woods and then paralleled a river. They eventually arrived at a secluded waterfront home.
“Stay here,” Chinn said as he tucked his Glock 19 into his jacket pocket and left the vehicle. Melanie watched as he studied the house, then retrieved something from under the doormat and returned to the vehicle. He held up a key. “Right where General Cloos said it would be. We’re staying here tonight.” He looked at Craig, who was still sound asleep. “WAKE UP, BOY!”
The snoring ceased, and Craig jumped and rubbed his eyes. “What is it, sir?”
“We’re staying here tonight. Stand guard here while I check out the house and make sure everything is okay.”
Craig stepped out of the vehicle and unsnapped the holster in which his .357 was concealed. Major Chinn disappeared around the left side of the house. A short time later he reappeared around the right corner, then unlocked the door and went inside. Melanie watched and waited for what seemed like an eternity. A few minutes later Chinn appeared in the doorway and waved them inside.
After an urgent visit to the bathroom, Melanie plopped down on the couch, leaned back and closed her eyes. She felt a tear stream down her cheek. She opened her eyes as Craig sat down beside her and turned to face her.
“I know you lost a lot of friends today,” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’ve lost people who mattered to me over the past year as well. It’s not easy, but we just have to keep pushing forward.”
“I don’t feel like I have any reason to keep fighting,” she said, wiping the tear away.
“I know I just met you, but I can tell you’re stronger than that,” he said. “Don’t let them get into your head. Don’t let them win.” Craig stood up and turned to face Major Chinn. “Do you need me to do anything, sir?”
“See if there is anything here to eat,” Chinn instructed. “And check every room in the house to make sure the windows are locked, and look for anything else out of the ordinary.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chinn pulled out a handheld phone with a larger than normal antenna and plugged it into an electrical outlet.
“Major, where are we?” Melanie asked.
“We’re on the Tellico River, which is a tributary of the Little Tennessee,” he answered. “Near a small town called Vonore.”
“Never heard of it,” she said. “How did you find this place?”
“General Cloos has connections all over the place,” he said. “Speaking of that, where in Louisiana do your parents live? I’ll see if he has anyone who can check on them and warn them to move to a safer location.”
“Chalmette. It’s in St. Bernard Parish.”
Chinn nodded and placed a call to General Cloos on the secure satellite phone.
***
Friday, October 19, 2018 – 10:05 a.m. – Fontana Dam
The next morning Joshua fired up the television, hoping to learn more about the previous day’s attack on Governor Harper’s summit. Rebecca joined him on the couch as he took a sip of freshly brewed coffee.
“That’s interesting,” Joshua said as he flipped between news channels.
“What?” Rebecca twisted her shoulder-length brown hair between her fingers.
“There are new anchors on every channel.”
“Every channel?”
“Yep,” Joshua said. “None of the people we’ve been seeing are there.”
“That’s strange for every network to change anchors at once,” Rebecca said.
“That it is,” Joshua said. “And I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”
“What do you mean?”
They went silent as the network cut to a clip of President Armando. The president’s slicked-back hair was noticeably grayer than it had been 20 months earlier. He spoke in a thick New York Accent.
My fellow Americans, yesterday saw another tragic attack on our homeland. A cowardly, faceless attacker conducted a bombing that killed Texas Governor Bennett Harper and the governors of 17 other states. Our thoughts and prayers are with their families.
President Armando bowed his head in a moment of silence, then continued: Our initial intelligence indicates that AIS was behind these attacks. We also believe they may have had assistance from domestic terrorists, and perhaps from a foreign government. Rest assured, we will find those who did this and bring them to justice. And our Federal Protective Service agents will help those states who have lost their leaders maintain order. Thank you, and God Bless America.
The anchors returned to the screen and begin praising the Armando administration’s response to the attack. Joshua flipped from channel to channel, and every network repeated the administration’s spin.
“That should answer your question about why I don’t think this was a coincidence.” Joshua pointed at the television. “The anchors on every network seem to be saying the same thing. The exact same thing. Word for word.”
Rebecca put her hand on his knee. “Looks like they’ve gone from being news organizations to the government’s propaganda arm.”
“Exactly.” Joshua pointed the remote at the TV and changed to another channel, which revealed only a black screen. “And it looks like they’ve blocked us from getting BBC.”
***
7:25 p.m. – Fontana Dam
That night, Joshua asked Perry and Jim to meet him at his cabin. The television was broadcasting a national news channel in the background, and Rebecca watched the coverage as the three men talked. Reagan was curled up at her feet.
“With all that’s gone on, I haven’t had a chance to update you on Mordecai and the ‘mole’ rumor,” Joshua began. “Jack and I went up on the mountain to confront him.”
“Did you find him?” Perry asked.
“We did.” Joshua chuckled.
“And?”
“Well, Jack tried to take him into custody.”
“Tried?” Jim asked.
“Let’s just say it didn’t go as planned,” Joshua said. “When Jack grabbed the old man’s arm, he put us both flat on our backs and disappeared. And on his way out he reiterated his warning that we have a mole in the camp.”
“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Perry asked.
“I think he thinks he’s telling us the truth,” Joshua said. “Whether he’s right or not is a different story. But my gut tells me he may be onto something.”
“Joshua,” Rebecca interrupted. “You guys need to see this.”
The three men turned in unison. Joshua felt a cold chill shoot down his spine as the men were confronted by a picture of Drew Thompson on the television screen, with the word “WANTED” emblazoned across the bottom in bold, red letters.
“What the hell?” Perry exclaimed.
“They’re saying he’s wanted in connection with the bombing that killed the governors,” Rebecca said.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you our mole,” Perry said with a derisive sneer.
“Perry, I have a hard time believing Drew had anything to do with that,” Jim said.
“Well, where is he?” Perry threw his hands up in the air. “He’s not here, and he left before the bombing. He refused to tell anyone where he was going, and even insinuated to Joshua that we were better off not knowing. What is his alibi?”
“I agree with Jim that we shouldn’t rush to judgement,” Joshua said. “Every media outlet is broadcasting the Armando administration’s spin, so I question everything we see on the so-called news.”
“Every network?” Perry cocked an eyebrow. “Even BBC?”
“We’re no longer able to get BBC,” Joshua said. “Blocked. I’m guessing by the government.”
“Caroline can probably fix that,” Perry said.
Jim pursed his lips. “How?”
“She did some pretty intense internet security and code-cracking work for some interesting clients at her last job,” Perry said. “She can do things I can’t even begin to explain.”
“Let’s give her a shot to do that tomorrow,” Joshua said. “Becca, have they said how they’re connecting Drew to the bombing?”
“They were vague,” Rebecca answered. “They simply said he was seen at the gathering.”
“So is he our mole, or is he the Armando administration’s scapegoat?” Joshua pondered aloud.
“Like you said, let’s not rush to judgement,” Jim said. “About the mole, I think Kane is a likely suspect, especially given his blow-up over the pledge issue. Something deeper is driving that.”
“I agree that he’s been a bit off,” Joshua said. “I’ll try to talk to him.”
***
Saturday, October 20, 2018 – 0705 – Fontana Dam
Just before sunrise next morning Kane quietly departed the camp and began hiking southward on the Appalachian Trail. An hour later he had barely broken a sweat, even though he had not even stopped to catch his breath.
I could do this all day. He gritted his teeth. Maybe I should keep going. And never look back. There is nothing for me in that camp.
He passed two men and a woman who were hiking northward. One of the men waved. “How are you today? Sure is a nice day out.”
Kane barely nodded and did not speak. He kept pushing forward. A military machine fueled by pent-up anger.
How could Sergeant Major Kendall have been fooled by those people? Kane wondered as he effortlessly pushed up a steep incline. What else was he wrong about?
He jammed his walking stick into the turf as he crested the hill and began traversing a downslope. They never valued my presence. They never respected my work. If they had, I would’ve been elected to the council. Not that Jack guy.
Kane broke into a slow trot as rage pulsed through his veins. I was their protector. I was their food provider. They used me. No more.
He let out a primal scream and broke into a full sprint, charging non-stop up a 45-degree incline that lasted nearly a quarter-mile, then leap-frogging boulders and logs on a steep downslope.
Fifteen minutes later Kane burst into a clearing, stopped and put his hands on his knees, panting like a thirsty animal. After catching his breath he realized there were several cabins just ahead, accompanied by numerous tents. Severa
l people were milling around outside the cabins.
Interesting, Kane thought. I wonder if this is another camp similar to ours? Maybe one where real patriots live. And where I would be appreciated. He resumed walking along the trail, on a trajectory that would take him directly in front of the cabins. Keep your cool, Martin. You’re just passing through.
Kane studied the makeshift village as he passed. A flagpole proudly displayed Old Glory in front of the center cabin. Three black Suburbans and a dark green Hummer were parked between the cabins. A slender man who appeared to be just under six feet tall was walking toward the center cabin. The man, who had black hair with streaks of grey and wore a holstered sidearm, made eye contact and fixated on Kane. He’s sizing me up. Kane nodded and kept walking.
Upon reaching the other side of the clearing he found a stump he could use for support and started a stretching routine. Act natural, he thought. After completing a dozen stretching exercises he began making his way back past the camp. The same man sized him up as he passed. Kane nodded and continued walking.
A tall, curvy blonde stepped onto porch of the final cabin. Kane realized he had stopped walking and was staring at the woman. She made eye contact just as he resumed walking. Kane felt her gaze focused on him like a laser. She was beautiful. Striking. The woman smiled and waved. Kane nodded, but did not return the wave. He noticed her smile fade as he passed.
Kane hiked about a quarter of a mile north, then stopped, sat down on a log and buried his head in his hands. Moron, he thought. You couldn’t even muster the guts to wave at her? Idiot.
***
8:07 a.m. – Banks of the Tellico River near Vonore, TN
Melanie found enough coffee in the cupboard to scrape together a pot of java. While the pot was brewing she searched every cabinet in the kitchen. No sugar, she thought. Nothing sweet in this place. And no creamer of any kind.
She poured a cup of the pitch-black coffee and reluctantly took a swig. She closed her eyes and grimaced. It was as though every vile, disgusting taste on earth had been combined into this one tiny mug.
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