Liberty or Tyranny (21 page)

Nate didn’t bother to look again. “We’ll move on in, slow.”

Deni grabbed him by the shoulder. “Wait a minute. I would like to know what’s going on with you. Are you angry with me about something?”

His eyebrows knitted in puzzlement. “Angry with you? No. I’m worried. I’m also pissed that some asshole in Washington, or some group of assholes, is taking advantage of the weakened state of the country and the people, adding to their miseries. I’m not sure if someone wants to be a total dictator or what. But it damn sure looks like that might be what’s going on. And it’s also obvious that there’s a power struggle going on, and the people are the ones suffering for it.”

“What about the military?” Deni asked. “Donovan isn’t the only decent officer in the Army or the other branches. I’m guessing the military is between Washington and the people. That doesn’t mean every individual officer and noncom is going to do the right thing, but the great majority of them will stand with the people. If Washington keeps pushing, there’s going to be a standoff.”

Nate regarded her with a grim face. “If not enough in the military stand with the people and say hell no, there’s going to be a civil war. Factions of the military will be fighting each other. Political cabals in Washington will be fighting each other. Civilians will choose their side and join in the bloodbath. When the smoke settles, every town or county could be ruled by a warlord. Or if Washington wins, America could look like Nazi Germany in ten years. I’m not sure which would be worse.”

She swallowed and looked back at him as a shadow fell across her face. “Damn Nate, you sure know how to conjure up a nightmare.”

“This isn’t the America we had before the plague killed most of the human race. It’s not the same government, the same people, or the same nation as a whole. Anything could happen now. There are nightmares aplenty, and you don’t need an imagination to conjure them up. These nightmares can become reality.”

“What do you mean, not the same people?” Deni asked.

“You know what I mean. Everyone has changed. None of us are the same people we were before the plague. Like Brian said, we’ve been forced to give up a little of our humanity every day, slice by slice. That was part of the price of survival.”

Deni nodded. “And in times of struggle like this, when people have been afraid and hungry for so long, they reach out for anything to save them. Right now, millions of Americans would vote another Hitler into power. Fascism, Communism, a Big Brother totally controlling government could easily look like the way out of this nightmare for many. Let the government take care of us. What good is freedom and self-determination when you’re starving and forever under the threat of attack from violent brigands roaming a lawless land?”

“Yeah.” Nate looked toward the house. “Every time we think things are going to get better, they get worse.”

“But you’re not giving up.”

Nate reached out and lightly touched her face. “That’ll be the day. Not as long as people I care about are still alive.”

~~~

Thirty-five minutes later, Nate and Deni were only 50 yards from a guard just inside the front gate. Both were behind bullet stopping cover. Nate yelled out, “It’s Nate and Deni Williams coming in. Don’t shoot.”

The Hispanic man got behind a tree. A few seconds later, he responded, “Come on in slow with your empty hands over your head.”

A Caucasian man in a sniper’s hide heard them. He aimed a rifle in Nate and Deni’s direction.

Nate and Deni both knew where the sniper’s hide was, since Nate had helped them build it. Deni saw the man aiming their way. “Tell your friend to stop pointing his rifle at us. We’re here to see Mrs. MacKay. We heard she has been injured.”

The man didn’t wait to be told. He pointed the muzzle skyward.

Nate and Deni slowly came out into the open with their hands in the air. They had their rifles slung on their shoulders. The Hispanic man recognized them and smiled, waving them on in. “Welcome! I’ll go with you to the house.”

Nate and Deni stayed close to their escort. Anyone with a twitchy trigger finger would think twice about taking a shot at them if he might hit one of their own. Nate suspected fear and anger to be prominent emotions on the farm, and many who lost family members would be out for revenge. He was particularly worried about the fact Deni wore military equipment, including Kevlar helmet and body armor, and carried military weapons. For that reason, he made no attempt to hide his efforts to keep Deni between him and the Hispanic man.

She gave him a sideward glance but said nothing.

Two women saw them approaching and soon had all the children
corralled into the house. They were not taking any chances.

Armed men and women began to appear from their hiding places behind trees. A few of them recognized Nate and Deni and waved, but a few gave them a cold stare.

The Hispanic man escorting them nodded at Nate and then lifted his worn-out boonie hat to Deni. “I must go back to my post.” He turned and headed for the gate at a fast walk, holding his rifle in both hands.

Mrs. MacKay appeared at the door and stepped out onto the porch. Even from 70 yards away, Nate could see the wounds on her arm and face. At that distance they appeared as red lines. Long before the three reached the steps of the porch, he could see the sutures and the puffy red swelling that looked alarmingly like the beginnings of infection.

Deni smiled. “I’m relieved to see you on your feet. Caroline told us you had been injured, and Nate and I were both worried about you.”

That old simmering rage boiled Nate’s blood.

MacKay noticed. “Have I made you angry already, Nate?”

Nate flinched and tried to soften the features of his face.

Deni glanced his way and then spoke for him. “He’s just so angry with those who hurt you he forgot to smile.”

“That’s about it,” Nate said. “I think someone needs to take you to the clinic in town. Those cuts are too red. They’re starting to fester.”

The old horse farmer rolled her eyes. “Not you too. I’ve been told that at least five times the last three hours. The fact is there’s way too much to do around here for me to be traipsing off to town.”

“Do you even know if the clinic is still in operation?” Deni asked. “After what Caroline told us… We have a lot of questions.”

MacKay headed for the door. “Come on in and have a seat. We’ll fill you in on current events. But then you have to fill us in on what’s been happening with you and yours.” She stopped and turned back to them. “You mentioned Caroline. Is there anyone with her?”

“Yes,” Deni answered, “the little girl Samantha. They’re both well.”

The old woman put her hands together. “Thank God. We thought they may have been with the group that was murdered.” She led them into the living room.

“How many?” Nate asked.

MacKay froze for a second and then went on to the chair she was heading for and sat down. “We’re not sure exactly. There are 21 people missing. But some of them are probably just lost or ran away.” She blinked tears. “I know Ramiro was murdered. It happened before my eyes. He was never the same after losing his wife, Rita. And now he’s gone. They were both good people and old friends.”

Nate pressed her with another question, though he could see she was upset. He needed to know what the situation was, and these first questions were just the beginning. “Caroline told us you split into groups when you went into hiding in the woods. She also told us that people in at least one of those groups were slaughtered by CIA operatives. Her estimate was over a dozen.”

“Fourteen,” MacKay said softly. She spoke her next words louder. “We believe 14 were murdered in that one group.”

Nate still hadn’t sat down. He leaned his rifle against the wall behind him and slipped out of his pack. After sitting next to Deni on a couch, he asked, “Did anyone with the CIA try to stop these crimes? Or did they all seem to be okay with it?”

MacKay focused her eyes on a different time and place. “One of them killed the man who murdered Ramiro and cut me. He and another one let us go. Kramer was the name of the one who refused to let his partner kill us.”

Deni and Nate exchanged glances.

“Brian will want to hear about this,” Deni said. “He’ll feel a lot better about us letting Kramer go.”

Nate nodded. “He’s not the only one.”

MacKay slumped in her chair. “I’m afraid I have news Brian will take hard. Renee and her father were among those killed.”

Nate rubbed his forehead and looked down. “You’re right; he’ll take it hard. Renee and Brian were becoming friends.”

“And Nate and I both considered her and Austin to be our friend,” Deni added. “Austin was a good man.” She clenched her hands into fists. “Instead of helping the people, Washington’s sending killers to murder them.” She spoke for MacKay’s benefit. “Someone is taking advantage of the chaos to further personal plans, and that someone is our so-called president and whoever is backing him.”

“That’s the question.” Nate’s forehead furrowed with worry. “Who’s backing him? I mean besides those he selected for Congress and the Supreme Court. We have no idea how big the problem is or if it’s limited to America. This may be something that involves crooks in many countries. What’s going on in Europe? Who knows? We’ve been told very little.”

“And how much of what we’ve been told is accurate?” Deni asked.

MacKay waved her hand. “That’s all beyond my control. I can only deal with what happens on this farm. Washington’s another world as far as I’m concerned.”

“Normally I would agree with you,” Nate said. “Politics has never been much of an interest of mine. But what’s happening in Washington has already cost us dearly and is likely to do so again.”

MacKay’s irritation came to the surface. “We can’t even vote, so what’re we going to do? Are you two talking about civil war? I’ve seen enough good people die needlessly. I won’t have any part of going against the military. They’ll just slaughter every one of us.”

“We might be able to avoid serious bloodshed by spreading the word and organizing the people.” Nate noticed that he was upsetting his elderly friend and stopped. “I guess there’s no point in discussing this now.”

“Yes,” Deni agreed. She changed the subject. “We went to the farm and found a note on the door supposedly signed by Col. Donovan. It said we could go home; that we were not being hunted anymore; and that the situation had changed.” She looked at MacKay. “Can you verify that?”

MacKay seemed to think for a moment. “There are no guarantees, but you know that. As you can see, we’re back home and not hiding anymore. As far as I know, we’re safe for now.” She shook her head. “Exactly what the hell changed to cause them to suddenly stop hunting us is as much of a mystery to me as their reasoning for hunting us and killing over a dozen of our people in the first place.” She glanced at her ticking antique grandfather clock. “The National Guard broadcasts information several times every 24 hours. You might have time to go get the others and bring them back with you before the next broadcast and you can all listen at the same time.”

“Uh,” Nate hesitated for a second. “The only reason they went after you and your people is because you were known to be friends of ours. They were simply trying to get information from you that could lead them to us. It’s part of whatever’s going on in Washington.” With downcast eyes, he said, “I’m sorry this happened.”

MacKay leaned over from her chair and touched his hand. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

“Well,” Nate cleared his throat, “when Brian learns what’s happened, he’s going to be upset about it. For several reasons.” He glanced at Deni. “You might as well stay here while I go get the others. I’ll break the bad news to Brian. It’ll give him time to simmer down before we arrive.” He spoke to MacKay again, “I don’t think we should stay long under the circumstances. We’ll listen to the broadcast and leave. There’s no guarantee our presence here won’t still bring trouble to you. Caroline and Samantha will probably want to stay. They’ll be more comfortable here than on our little farm and safer away from us.”

MacKay made an effort to be stoic but wasn’t completely successful. “They’re welcome here. All of you are.” She wiped her face. “It’s not your fault, you know. None of this is your fault. Make sure you tell Brian that.”

Nate stood. “I’ll try. But sometimes words are weak.”

Nate stood before Tyrone, Atticus, and Brian. Caroline and Samantha kept back from the others and listened.
Perhaps expecting the worst,
Nate thought. “Everything seems to have settled down for the moment. Mrs. MacKay backs up what the sign on the door says. I left Deni back at the farm, since there was no need for both of us to come.”

“Let’s go then.” Brian started for his pack.

“Hold on.” Nate stepped closer to his son. “There’s more you need to know first.”

Brian froze and looked up at him. “Tell us the bad part first. I can tell it’s bad. I can see it on your face.”

Nate steadied himself. “It seems our old friend Kramer saved a lot of lives.” He looked Brian in the eye. “He killed one of his own men when he started cutting on Mrs. MacKay to make her tell them where we were hiding.”

“The sons of bitches,” Brian blurted. “They had no idea where we were.”

Samantha began to cry quietly.

“Anyway,” Nate continued, “when the spook shot Ramiro and killed him, Kramer shot his own man and released MacKay and her people.”

Atticus swore. “A little too damn late.”

“Are you trying to say we did the right thing by letting Kramer go?” Brian asked.

Nate flinched. “Hell, I don’t know Brian. We made a decision. If we’d made a different decision, we would’ve had to live with that one too. Either way we’re going to live with it and go on. You understand? We all have to live with our decisions. It just turned out that Kramer saved a lot of lives. He wouldn’t have been able to do that if we had killed him. Let’s not go through this again.”

Brian spit his words. “Well, more than likely he and that other bastard are both dead now. We left them back there in the swamp with bullets in them.”

“Probably.” Nate lifted his boonie hat and mopped his forehead. “From what Mrs. MacKay told us, they lost something like 14 or 15 people.”

“Goddamn massacre.” Tyrone fumed. “So that’s what kind of government we have now.”

Brian swallowed and cleared his throat. He seemed to already know the answer to his question before he uttered the words. “What about Renee and her father?”

The look on his father’s face was answer enough.

Brian snatched his pack off the ground where it sat and slammed it on, then reached for his rifle. “Let’s go. Talking about it won’t change anything.”

~~~

Brian said little at the horse farm, but a simmering rage surfaced for a second when he saw MacKay’s wounds.

Nate hoped Brian would keep quiet until they left. He was in no mood to be polite company and didn’t have the self-control Nate had. Not that Nate and the others were in any better mood. They all felt guilty. Being guests of people who had suffered and lost friends and loved ones because of their actions left them in an awkward position.

MacKay checked the grandfather clock. “Time for the National Guard broadcast. I just hope they have some good news for us. We all need something to light the darkness we’ve been stumbling around in lately.”

The grandfather clock struck 3 o’clock. A woman who had been working in the kitchen walked in and turned on a radio that sat on a fireplace mantle.

“Thank you, Carlene,” MacKay said. “I was about to do that. You saved me the trouble.”

At first, only static emitted from the speaker, but soon the national anthem came over the airwaves, low at first, and then growing in volume. As the last musical notes faded, a man started to speak.

“Good afternoon. My name is Bob Stone. I don’t have to tell you how bad things have been this last year and a half. It’s why I’m so happy to have good news for you today. Circumstances beyond Washington’s control have hindered government efforts to do more for the American people until now. President Capinos has lost patience and has decided that pleading hasn’t worked. So he has stopped pleading and started demanding. A few days ago, he ordered all branches of the military to bring law and order to our nation once again. The order has also been handed down to the head of every department of the federal government: First, protect the American people from lawless brigands. Second, as much as humanly possible, provide medical services, food, and any other assistance they may require.”

Brian hissed under his breath, “Bull.”

“Yeah,” Deni agreed. “Capinos is the one who’s been holding the military back and wasting time on bullshit.”

The announcer continued, “President Capinos has worked tirelessly with Congress to consolidate what is left of the multitude of federal law enforcement agencies into one. We now have 3,000 federal officers from the former FBI, US Marshals Service, DEA, and many other former agencies, all working under the Department of Homeland Security. At present, they are working on cleaning up Washington, DC. It will take time to hire and train more agents, but over time. DHS will be able to spread its influence of law and order to Maryland, Virginia, etc. But DHS will never be able to provide law and order to the entire nation alone. That’s where our military comes in. Keep in mind, though, our military was hit just as hard by the plague as the rest of the population and has been weakened considerably. It will take time to bring law and order to every state, county, parish, town, and hamlet. But President Capinos will not rest until he has accomplished this goal.” Silence for a second. “And now we have a word from General Pardee of the National Guard.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “The Department of Homeland Security. We’re safe now, people.”

“Thank you.” The general’s voice was as rough as coarse sandpaper and thick with a Southern drawl. “I think Mr. Stone misspoke when he said that President Capinos will not rest until he has accomplished
this goal.
This ain’t no damn
goal.
This has got to be done. And the president ain’t going to accomplish much by himself. That’s a fact. And neither is the National Guard, the Army, the Marines, or any other branch of the military. Every American is going to have to pitch in. That is every decent man, woman, and child. Unfortunately not everyone who survived the plague
is
decent. And they’re causing problems for everyone else. I have a warning for those still stuck on dumbass. Hell just might be a place you don’t want to go, and your soul may be God’s, but your ass is mine if you’re caught victimizing people. There won’t be any second chances if my soldiers catch you murdering, raping, or robbing. They have orders to administer justice through the barrel of a rifle. We don’t have time or resources to be slapping anybody on the ass and letting him go when we catch him victimizing his fellow Americans. Lesser crimes will be dealt with less harshly. But violent crimes carry the death penalty. Listen up on this and let it sink in, because this is the last warning you’ll get. We catch you in the act, you die on the spot. Now, anyone listening out there shouldn’t get the wrong idea. My soldiers have been ordered to kill only those that need killing. Peaceful civilians will be helped, not abused.”

The announcer seemed taken aback. “Uh. What about food and medical supplies? Have stockpiles been warehoused, ready to be shipped out?”

The general’s answer was forthright and lacking all diplomatic vagueness or politeness. “I am sickened to admit that too many in government have been sitting on their ass and doing nothing for too many months now. Millions of Americans have starved needlessly because of it. Only recently have plans been drawn up and formalized to help citizens start their own farms locally. This, despite many having begged those in Washington for over a year now to untie our hands and let us do whatever we could to help the people. At first, Washington may have had an excuse for failing the people, as government was so overwhelmed and disorganized for so many months, they just couldn’t respond in any orderly and effective fashion. Losing 90 plus percent of your employees from top to bottom will do that. Any military unit would be rendered combat ineffective long before suffering those kinds of casualties. The plague hit so fast and hard, it knocked us all on our ass. But there comes a time, like not long after you’re knocked on your ass, that you get up and start fighting back. That is if you have any kind of a spine at all. Well, Washington has finally decided that it just might be a good idea to save what’s left of the American population. It comes way too goddamn late, and I don’t understand why it took so long or what mule kicked them in the head and made them change their mind. Anyway, I won’t waste time moaning about the past. They’ve finally gotten out of our way. Now we’re going to get busy.”

The announcer’s nervous voice came over the speaker. “Uh, General, you’re not leaving now, are you? You were scheduled to answer questions for another 30 minutes.”

The general’s voice trailed off as he spoke. “I’ve got work to do.” A door could be heard opening and slamming.

A crowd had gathered in the living room. Several people chuckled.

MacKay raised an eyebrow, a smile on her face. “Those were the most reassuring words I’ve heard from any government official in a long time.”

Music played over the radio, and Nate decided to speak while no useful information could be gleaned by listening to the program. “They might fill the next 30 minutes with music, since the general left early.” He turned to Deni. “While I found what I heard interesting, I was hoping to learn something about the local situation. We need to get in touch with Donovan. It’s the only way to be sure it’s safe to go home.”

Deni started to reply, but the music stopped and the announcer came back on. Her eyes flashed to the radio when she heard him mention Col. Donovan’s name.

“We have a special message from Col. Donovan in north Florida. He wants to assure his friends there that they are not in any trouble and can go on with their life. The situation has changed for the better, and there is no danger.”

The announcer added, “Col. Donovan also wants people in his area of operations to know that he is calling for volunteers to help build a local civilian law enforcement agency of some kind.”

The sound of sheets of paper being shuffled could be heard. “Col. Donovan wants to inform people in the area of Glenwood that, while nothing is in abundance, certain vegetables are available at the community farm. They can also be picked up in Glenwood at the town square. Other local farmers are also offering their surplus to the hungry. At the moment, supplies of wild hog meat are holding up, as well as fish caught from local lakes and rivers. All of these food items are available in limited quantities for anyone who shows up at one of the relief centers. He asks that any able-bodied person who receives food volunteer to work on the community farm or one of the private farms in the county as payment. There are many ways to give back. It all depends on what your skills are. Mechanics are needed to maintain the trucks that haul the produce from the farmers to the relief centers, and volunteers are needed at the relief centers themselves.

“A reminder: If you have any law enforcement experience, talk to Col. Donovan. He is trying to start a sheriff’s department for the county. If you have any medical experience, please offer your services at the clinic in Glenwood.” The announcer stopped talking and ran a recording.

A public service announcement about victory gardens that came straight out of the World War II era played for four minutes.

The announcer’s voice came back. “We might not be fighting World War II, but we are fighting famine. A garden in every backyard helped to win World War II, and the same idea can help us defeat hunger. Before the plague hit, only a tiny fraction of American society was involved in the production of food. I don’t have to tell you that we now live in a different world. We must adapt or die. I have a garden in my backyard here in Atlanta, as do most of my neighbors. Farming is beneath no man or woman. It is probably one of the most honorable and honest ways to feed yourself and your family. Many of our Founding Fathers were farmers, and some of the best men and women this country has ever produced grew up on a farm.

“Before anyone listening gets the wrong idea, no one is trying to return America to an agrarian society or return us to the 1800s. Think about it for a moment. What are your main needs on a daily basis? If you’re like most Americans, you are struggling to feed yourself and your family and you are in constant fear of violent attack or at the very least losing what little food and other needful items you have to armed robbery. If someone in your family is ill or injured, your most pressing needs may be medical services. These basic needs must be met first. Once we have accomplished that, we will start to rebuild society little by little over the years. All levels of government will be reestablished and infrastructure repaired and maintained. No one knows how long this will take. At first, the economy will probably be on a barter basis, but over time it will rebuild as society rebuilds.”

Someone turned up the volume in the studio and the Battle Hymn of the Republic blasted out of the radio speaker. A man leaning against the wall nearby turned the volume down a little.

Everyone in the living room seemed to be deep in thought and had nothing to say.

The announcer’s voice came back over the radio as the music faded. “This program will be rebroadcasted tonight at 9 PM. I leave you with this thought: We have endured and survived uncounted forms of death. Now it is time we build a new world and enjoy uncounted blessings of life.”

Static emitted from the radio speaker, and the man standing nearby clicked it off. “The program didn’t last as long as usual this time. I guess the general threw them off schedule.”