Glimmer of Hope (Land of Tomorrow Book 1) (8 page)

"We're recommending universal training of all able-bodied men between the ages of 18 and 45," said Anderson. "They can serve in their county regiments on rotational cycles, which may only involve a month at a time; but we can call everyone up for short periods if needed. We can also find support uses for women and non able-bodied men in logistics and transportation roles. This is something that we’re just going to have to convince everyone of, but we don't want to stress the system because from this point forward we need the majority of people planting and harvesting and producing needed goods.”

“It might not be that hard,” said Frank. “Towns and communities are already forming small armed bands on their own for just this purpose. They’ve heard the stories of the raiders, and in some cases have seen the results. They’re scared.”

“That will be my job at the next big meeting, should we decide to go that way,” said Reggie. “I judge if we can provide the weapons and ammo, the County Executives will have no problem providing the men for their own militia regiments.”

“Which brings us to one of our final problems,” said Butch, “but not one to be overlooked…training. Without quality and relevant training this militia will be useless. We want them to be professional, in the sense that when called upon to fight they do it well and in a disciplined manner.” Butch looked at his plan again, “I propose a three-phased approach: initial basic training, an annual major cooperative exercise or engagement per year, and regular unit level training.”

“Sounds complicated,” said Janet.

“Not really,” said Butch. “Everyone will go through basic entry level training focused on light infantry tactics and skills, augmented by many other tasks normally performed by support troops. We’ve figured out that our troops, especially the militia, will need to have all the skills necessary to look after themselves for extended periods of time, from hunting and tracking, to sewing and first-aid. I’m envisioning this training being a very intensive six weeks.”

“Six weeks!” cried Frank. “From my understanding military basic and advanced training ranges anywhere from four to six
months
, and our training to make a state trooper is one year. How can you do what you want in six short weeks?”

Butch sighed. “It’s true, I’d love to have them for longer, but the situation is approaching a point where we need men out there on the border as soon as possible. We’ll focus on core skills and let the units finish the rest. We also plan on cutting out much of the ‘fluff’ that is normally in military training.”

“Fluff?” asked Stevens.

“Yeah,” said Anderson gruffly, “things we don’t need to train them on like, for instance, sleep. That frees up at least six to eight hours a day." Anderson raised his hand to cut off the objections, "I know everyone needs sleep, but we can incorporate lack of sleep into our training. We can also cut out drill and ceremony, tradition and history, equal opportunity, and my favorite…’consideration of others’ training. Did you realize that before N-Day, army basic trainees underwent a full week of training designed to make them more sensitive? I would say we can cut that shit out.”

Butch smiled, nodded and went on. “This training will focus on squad and platoon level tactics in our local terrain. Recruits will train in the exact area they will be assigned to guard. Many of them are already intimately familiar with the ground from hunting, farming, and other more nefarious activities such as poaching or growing marijuana.” Butch shrugged to show he wasn't judging these activities and went on. “We can also eliminate physical training, marksmanship, and other things that they can learn at their unit, or already know.”

Doctor Stevens asked with his hands clasped tightly in front of him, “And who will conduct this training? Sounds like it will be as difficult for the trainers, if not more so, than the trainees.”

“It’s funny you should ask,” said Anderson. “Our idea was to use the cadets and cadre of the Murray State ROTC Program. This is what they already do to some extent. They train cadets in light infantry tactics and all their NCOs and officers are combat veterans. The senior Sergeant Major down there is a long-time Special Forces and Delta veteran. I’ve spoken to the Professor of Military Science there, Lieutenant Colonel Jones, and he believes it can be done. He already has his staff working on a training plan.”

Stevens' face scrunched up tightly and his eyes narrowed, “And when was someone going to talk to me about this? I am the President of the university, after all.”

Anderson answered Stevens straight-faced, “You know I was going to come talk to you about that, but then I remembered it was none of your damn business!”

“What!?” squealed Stevens.

Anderson set his jaw and leaned across the table towards the man, “We’re telling you now. And, by the way, not to put too fine a point on the issue, but you don’t own the ROTC program or its people.”

“Right!” yelled Stevens, “And neither do you. They belong to the U.S. Army which belongs to the U.S. Government which is not you, sir!”

Reggie could feel everything unraveling, “Gentlemen, let’s just calm down for a minute. We’re talking about ideas here. This is a forum for all of us to work together before we present things to a larger audience. This was just the best opportunity to do that very thing.” Reggie looked at Anderson willing him to make peace.

Anderson glared at Reggie then Stevens. “It would be completely within my authority to pull the whole damn program out from under your control and there wouldn't a thing you could do about it. I guarantee every officer, soldier, or cadet over there would listen to me before you. How would you like that you little piss ant? Hell, I might even tell them to throw you out on your sorry ass!"

Stevens went white and his mouth hung open.

"General Anderson!" said Reggie. "We all need to find a way to cooperate here. The university is key to our future and so is Doctor Stevens."

"Sure, I get that and don't disagree," answered Anderson, "but I don't have time for politics or turf battles. And correct me if I'm wrong, but I think I hold most of the cards here."

Reggie had an angry retort on his lips when Frank Simm stood drawing all their attention.

"My kids don't know what's happened," said Simm his voice quivering slightly. "I tried to tell them last night, but they can't understand it. To them it's all the same. But I know they are going to have to grow up and live in the world we build for them. Starting right here in this room. Now if we can't all come together for that, then there really is no hope."

He looked like he was going to say more, but sat down instead and no one spoke for a long time.

*******

Reggie walked out of the meeting three hours later totally exhausted, but fairly satisfied. In the end they all agreed on the regimental militia system, although Doctor Stevens insisted on being kept informed of all activities that occurred on Murray State grounds. Anderson grudgingly accepted these terms, much more subdued after Frank Simm had shamed them all with his short speech.

They also agreed to the “raid” on Fort Campbell, as soon as the resources could be gathered and the weather improved. Butch Matthews would plan and lead the operation. Reggie felt very confident he would do whatever was necessary to ensure its success.

Everything had gone as well as Reggie hoped it would until the end. TVA Director John Downing sat silent throughout the heated deliberations; but as the meeting was concluding, he took the opportunity to speak as if awakening from slumber. Reggie initially took his attitude to be indifference or negativity, but he saw with dismay that the man was utterly exhausted.

John looked at them with hallow eyes and spoke almost in a monotone, "We've managed to stabilize the dam’s power output after operating at one-third capacity, and this should extend the lifespan of the dam turbines and generators. The electricity consumption is still beyond the means of the dam to provide given the one third operation. This will continue to result in numerous delays and blackouts. In order to provide consistent service and avoid power outages, 25 to 40 percent of the current electrical output will need to be cut."

Janet asked him in a snippy voice, “And just who do you propose should be cut? Everyone needs electricity!”

John answered without changing his tone or even looking at her, "Frankly, I don’t care. That is your job. Mine is to keep the dam alive and the electricity flowing as long as I can."

After more discussion, they came to the difficult decision to slowly cut off electricity to those areas outside of the JP, unless those outsiders agreed to provide compensation. Although most felt bad about this situation, they thought it only fair since JP Citizens paid taxes to keep the electricity running, and paid the workers, as well as those who protected it all.

Anderson recommended that they attempt to announce their intentions to give people outside their borders an opportunity to comply. All agreed that only General Sampson’s territory to the south had any hopes of really working with them. Everything else was small pockets of survivors surrounded by chaos and death.

John sat quietly through all the wrangling about the electricity, but as everyone appeared to depart spoke again, "My meager staff cannot control or patrol the Land Between the Lakes Park region. Bandits and other settlers have moved in over the months, setting up camps despite the borders around the park. The border is just too long and the park is empty, no one notices when people find their way inside the park. For all practical purposes, we have lost control of all TVA assets and lands except the dam and power plants, which are now my sole and entire focus."

"I appreciate your candor," said Reggie in the stunned silence. "Under the circumstances I think you made the right decisions and settled upon the correct priority. I understand we are also starting to have a refugee problem."

John nodded and smiled humorlessly, "That is putting it rather lightly. There are several settler camps that have sprung up on our eastern border, the largest of which is near the dam, along Interstate 24."

"Yeah, I've heard about those camps," grumbled Anderson, "they grow every day if the reports are accurate."

Butch Matthews cleared his throat, "Our Guard troops along the border have already established systems to screen individuals who are useful or rightful residents in order to allow entry."

“I’m afraid that isn’t going to be enough,” said John. “Rival power groups are establishing themselves in these camps and crime is increasing drastically. Lack of food, sanitation, and disease are only compounding the potential dangers.”

“Don’t you dare say it,” said Anderson, with comprehension suddenly coming upon him.

John ignored him while everyone else looked on without understanding. “We have no choice but to take over these camps across the river and lake. I know we’re stretched thin and these are not JP Citizens; but they will certainly be JP’s problem if we don’t work with them. We need to establish order there, that is, medical support, food, water, sanitation, electricity, tents, and information. We need to bring them in or encourage them to move on, but what we can’t allow to happen is a large, desperate mass of humanity to just sit on our border.”

"Can't we use them all for manual labor on farms or such?" asked Doctor Stevens.

Reggie shook his head, "Maybe eventually, but we're not set up or ready for all of them. Letting them in now would only be taking on more mouths to feed with nothing productive for them to do."

“I feel for them,” said Simm, “but they aren’t really our responsibility.”

“I don’t give a damn if they all die tonight. That would actually be the best thing all around,” said John. “I’ve watched day after day from the dam as these groups grow and the situation gets more and more terrible. We need to fill the vacuum there before someone else does it for us. If they decided to push through the border, or take over the dam, I’m not sure we could stop them.” John went silent again while everyone looked at him with varying degrees of concern.

By the end of the meeting, they decided to take control of the three main refugee camps along the eastern border. They would destroy the other smaller camps after moving the settlers to one of the main camps. Anderson wasn’t happy because he saw before the others that only the National Guard possessed the resources and discipline to perform such a mission. In the end, he didn’t fight the decision because he knew it needed to be done.

After all, Anderson realized bitterly, there is no acceptable excuse for failing to perform one’s duty.

Chapter 9 – Over the Edge

Bethany fought to breathe. The woman's weight bore down on her chest painfully. She knew the woman had struck her on the side of the head, but there was no pain yet, only numbness. More than the screwdriver on her neck, the waves of claustrophobia nearly made her panic. She fought to relax and push her fear down enough to think.

Unlike Nathan, Bethany did not believe the woman was crazy. Bethany saw the frantic yet dead look in her eyes, a look she had seen many times before. Her own eyes might even have looked that way for a time after losing their first baby. She understood the woman was in some sort of shock. Bethany peered at the other women huddled in a frightened mass and their story became as clear as glass. This understanding helped keep the fear at bay.

Bethany looked up into her captor’s face and saw evidence of abuse. There were thick bruises around her neck and along her face, as well as poorly healed cuts on her scalp. Her nose looked recently broken.

This one was a fighter and had not submitted herself easily. She probably even wanted to die
, thought Bethany.

Bethany again held out her hand to Nathan while maintaining eye contact with the woman. She was obviously a victim, and Bethany was sure she could get through to the phantom smiling down at her ghoulishly.

“Please,” said Bethany breathlessly, “do you have any food? My boys and I are so hungry and haven’t eaten for days. Can’t we just share your fire for a while and maybe a little food. There’s no need to hurt us.”

The smile vanished from the woman’s face in an instant and she looked suddenly confused. She leaned up a little, easing the pressure on Bethany’s chest and neck.

For the first time, Bethany felt her head swelling and blood running through her hair where the desperate woman had struck her. The woman leaned back slowly and looked over her shoulder at the huddled women and children around one of the makeshift tents. She pulled the screwdriver away from Bethany’s neck and used it to point back toward the fire.

Conversationally she said, “There’s some beans and franks left, as well as some Spam. It’s actually pretty good. Tastes better than it sounds,” she said with a slight laugh. The woman turned back to Bethany and the crazy look was almost gone from her eyes. She seemed to suddenly comprehend where she was and what she was doing. The woman looked down at the screwdriver in her hand and Bethany’s bloody head and said almost too softly to hear, “Sorry about that.”

Those were the last words she ever spoke. Her head suddenly disappeared in an explosion of bloody mist and shotgun blast. Riveted as they were with the scene between Bethany and the crazy woman, no one noticed David creep up from the woods to about fifteen feet from them both. He waited until the woman pulled the screwdriver away from his mother’s throat before shooting her at close range.

Bethany was stunned and didn’t at first understand what had happened. The woman’s headless corpse still straddled her, unmoving. David, with his smoking shotgun, walked over and placed a foot on the dead woman’s shoulder shoving her rudely off his mother. He then reached down and grasped her arm pulling her up to her shaky feet.

“Mom, are you al-?” David began, but before he could fully get the question out of his mouth Bethany reared back and slapped him full in the face with a wild roundhouse swing. David’s head snapped back both with the force of the blow and the shock of receiving it. He quickly turned back with combined confusion and anger, but before he could get his bearings, Bethany followed up with a left punch full in David’s nose which sent him to his knees with blood pouring down his face.

Nathan raced over and pulled Bethany back, but she was straining, furious with anger. Nathan had never seen his patient and calm wife in such a state. Even while thrashing in Nathan’s arms to get at her son again she screamed at him, “What’s wrong with you? What happened to my son? All you care for is blood!”

Bethany began combing through her hair pulling off her own blood along with pieces of blood, brains, and skull from the dead woman and hurled them at David in wild swings. “Well then here you are!” she screamed. “Blood and more blood and more blood! Are you satisfied?”

Nathan finally succeeded in dragging her away and was on the verge of slapping Bethany if he couldn’t get her to calm down. Who knew what the other women were doing during all of this. Nathan only hoped Joshua was watching out for them. “Bethany, stop it! For God’s sake stop it!”

Bethany’s eyes suddenly focused on Nathan’s with fierce anger. “You’re happy he’s this way! You want him to be a killer! Well congratulations, look at what a wonderful son you’ve raised!” Nathan started to grab her more firmly to shake her, but she planted her palms roughly in his chest and pushed away, wheeling without another word to walk over to the group of frightened women.

Nathan turned back to David, but found him nowhere in sight. Joshua was suddenly in front of him. “He ran that way,” pointing back toward the highway.

“You stay with your mother,” Nathan said roughly and for the first time noticed the incessant barking of the dog. “And shut that damn dog up before it draws more attention,” he added as he took off at a run after David.

Nathan was afraid his son would just keep running and he knew the chances of finding him in the woods at night would be slim, but he soon saw David’s tall muscular form ahead in the dim light with his face against a tree. Nathan slowed to a walk and approached his son cautiously. David was breathing in great gasps of air, Nathan wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t take off again.

“Son,” Nathan began in a quiet voice, “she didn’t mean it. It’s stress and fatigue and months on the road. She didn’t mean it.”

“But she did mean it!” screamed David as he whirled on Nathan with anguish in his face. “Dad, I was in goddamn high school! I had a life! I was going to get a football scholarship and go to college! I didn’t ask for any of this shit!” David suddenly dropped his head and began to sob. “I was happy,” he said softly. “I didn’t know it, but I was happy, and I want it back the way it was.”

Nathan’s heart ached and he suddenly despised himself. Bethany was right, he had at least helped make David this way. David had always been the fierce fighter and competitor, but when the world ended, Nathan turned him into what he needed him to be...and he needed him to help protect them. He did it he thought out of the necessity to simply survive, but had he somehow forgotten that he was dealing with just a boy? His own son?

Nathan walked over and placed his arms around David. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he had hugged him and wasn’t sure if David would accept this show of love, but David wildly grasped him, sinking to his knees and began crying all the more.

For the first time since N-Day, Nathan doubted what he was doing. Was survival worth this? Maybe it would have been better to have died months ago, true to themselves. Uncorrupted and unconquered.

Holding his crying and heartbroken son in his arms, Nathan looked up into the clear stars and asked for…well, for anything.