299 Days IX: The Restoration (17 page)

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Ron said, trying not to smile, though the tone of his voice did the smiling for him.

“When the attack started,” she said, referring to the New Year’s offensive, “they left to go to the capitol and help. They turned around when they saw all the tea…”

“Patriot?” Ron said sarcastically.

“Patriot soldiers,” Judy said. “They came back here a few hours ago and then left. They said they’re going to come and get you.”

“How do you know all this?” Ron knew that Judy had talked with them, but wanted to test it anyway.

Judy looked down at the floor. She was ashamed. “They told me.” She looked like she’d betrayed someone. She had.

“Told you when?” Ron asked.

“A few hours ago,” Judy said, looking down at the floor again. “Right after it was dark.”

“And you guys were just chatting,” Ron said, dripping with sarcasm, “about the weather or whatever and they said, ‘Oh, hey, we’re going to kill Ron Spencer and his family.’”

Judy started to cry again. “You’re making this hard on me.”

There was that crying again. He couldn’t be mean to a crying woman. He just couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, Judy,” Ron said. “But I need to know the circumstances of that conversation.”

“Okay,” Judy said, recovering from her crying for a moment. “They were over at my house because we often … talk.” She looked down at the floor yet again.

“It’s how I keep my FCard,” she explained, her eyes still pointed downward. “I have to do this. I have to. I’m dependent on them. I don’t have silver like you do.”

Oh, the word was out about his silver. Great.

Ron chose not to react to her statement, which would just verify the rumors out there.

Dependent. Yep, Ron thought, you sure are, honey. That’s why you were selling out your neighbors. Dependent. It’s why Ron didn’t have to sell out his neighbors. He wasn’t dependent. That’s what it all came down to.

Ron started to feel like a bully. He had been pretty hard on Judy. More than a couple of times, she had admitted that what she had been doing was wrong. And she was taking some risk by trying to warn him. Ron needed to be a decent person and quit batting her around like a cat with a mouse.

“Thanks for coming to us,” Ron said very sincerely. “Thank you, Judy.”

Judy cried some more. That was what she’d been waiting to hear from Ron. Finally he had said it. She was so relieved.

“Now tell me about their plan,” Ron said.

“They will come here right before dawn,” she said, once again looking down at the floor. “With guns. They have guns.” She paused. This next part was hard for her to say.

“They’re going to burn down your house,” she said, with her face in her hands. She started crying again. This was a deep and shuddering cry. She was letting out a monstrous evil that she had been carrying with her.

Oh God, Ron thought. Burning down the house. Their house.

“Then Len’s,” she said, referring to Len Isaacson, the other Patriot in the neighborhood.

She cried some more and then said, “They said it will show everyone that the legitimate authorities are still in charge.”

The “legitimate authorities” burned down houses and shot people trying to flee? That was “legitimate”?

Judy saying the “legitimate authorities” would burn down people’s houses starkly illustrated just how illegitimate the authorities really were. The authorities Judy worked for. And now she was finally realizing how evil that system was. It took something like this to open her eyes.

“Thank you, Judy,” Ron said and got up to hug her. “You are a hero for coming here and telling me this.” Judy needed that hug. She deserved it.

Chapter 310

Picking the Wrong Side?

(January 2)

It had been just over twenty-four hours since Jeanie Thompson had learned of the Patriot attack. At first, it had seemed like they were attacking everywhere at once. It was a trick, she realized now. The Patriots were creating diversions to draw attention away from their real target: Olympia. In the early stages of the attack, they went after targets in Seattle and the suburbs. They hit Seattle-area political targets, police stations and FCorps facilities, mostly. They also assassinated several dozen government officials, including some high-ranking ones. Jeanie wondered if they got any of the people she had given tours to at Camp Murray.

The Patriots also raided the homes and mansions of some of the big government contractors. They killed the guards and the CEOs, but spared the spouses and children. They had very good intelligence and made pinpoint strikes. It looked like some of the guards were in on the raids. This sent most of the remaining elected officials and big government contractors into hiding. They couldn’t trust anyone anymore. This had a devastating effect on the government’s command and control; with so many officials in hiding, they couldn’t direct a counterattack. All of this was possible as soon the Limas couldn’t trust their own security guards.

The Patriots had also attacked throughout the state. They hit county seats, going after courthouses, county police stations, and any FCorps facilities in the rural areas. They hit some of the corporate food processors in the agricultural areas of eastern Washington. They stole truckloads of food and let the Mexicans, who were basically slaves on the farms, go free.

The Patriots’ goal was to cause massive confusion and force the Loyalists to rush out in every direction in an attempt to reinforce all their forces. All the while, the main target was Olympia. The state capitol. The symbolic state capitol.

Olympia fell after only twenty-four hours. The political people had basically abandoned Olympia in the last few weeks. Everyone who was anybody had slowly and quietly moved from there to Seattle. The good troops and equipment were moved to JBLM and Seattle. All defensible resources were concentrated into one area, and it wasn’t Olympia.

Of course, the National Guard and Lima police trying to defend Olympia would have liked knowing that they were a hollowed out outpost with no backup. They would have gone AWOL like everyone else, except for the hardcore Limas who knew they’d never be pardoned by the Patriots. Jeanie shook her head when she thought of all the poor National Guard kids who were sacrificed in Olympia.

Camp Murray was pretty much empty now that everyone important and even not-so-important was in Seattle. They left lowly people, like Jeanie, behind. Camp Murray was not yet in any danger of being taken by the Patriots because it was still in the JBLM ring and was heavily fortified. But the same thing that happened to Olympia could happen to them inside the JBLM ring: diverting forces from there to Seattle and then falling quickly to a Patriot attack.

People kept coming up to Jeanie and telling her how they never supported the “legitimate authorities.” Many were more coy than that because they could never knew if the Patriots would lose and the legitimate authorities would be back in power, so they hedged their statements by saying things like, “Politics are so stupid. I just want things to get back to normal.” That was odd because Jeanie knew some of them were actively involved in politics when their side was in power. It was funny how people feign a sudden disinterest in politics when it might cost them something.

Jeanie had no idea what would happen next. She was on the fence on whether she should just wait it out or make her way to Olympia. She told herself if she
did
go to Olympia, it would just be to see what was going on there. It’s not like she was retreating from Camp Murray and going back to an area the Patriots controlled. It’s not like she had picked the wrong side she kept telling herself.

Chapter 311

An Extra Day Off

(January 2)

In Seattle, it was almost midnight and Prof. Carol Matson was getting ready for work tomorrow after the New Year’s Day holiday, which had been surprisingly extended. They were scheduled to return to work the day after New Year’s Day, but they got an extra day off. Apparently there had been some logistical snafus on New Year’s Day and all the employers in Seattle, which were almost all government and quasi-governmental agencies, let their workers stay home. An extra day off! Carol thought of it as just one example that showed how much better things were now that the progressives finally got to run things. The workers were now being treated much better than they were when the corporations ran everything.

Carol had been following the events of New Year’s Day and the day after. She tuned into NPR, which always had good news on. NPR was broadcasting that some police stations were hit by the terrorists on New Year’s Day. She rolled her eyes at the teabaggers – New Year’s? Really? They were so unimaginative. “New year, new bosses,” was probably their message. How juvenile.

NPR commentators discussed how the teabaggers were attacking police stations to steal guns. That made sense: the Neanderthal teabaggers loved their guns – and using guns to impose their narrow views on everyone else.

NPR was reporting that, in a weird set of coincidences, some government officials were killed in apparent home invasions by street criminals. The break-ins were probably just to get some food to eat, Carol thought. NPR explained that people who broke the laws, usually greedy people thwarting the Recovery, had their FCards revoked and probably were stealing to eat. Just follow the laws, Carol thought, and you’ll be taken care of. Society was a compact where the people agreed on the laws and punishments for breaking them; break the laws and society doesn’t need to take care of you. It was only fair. Revoking FCards from lawbreakers was how the authorities were helping people make sure to follow the laws.

Lastly, NPR mentioned that there had been some attacks in Olympia, but the legitimate authorities put it down and were firmly in control. NPR said to expect some teabagger propaganda soon with altered photographs claiming to show they had taken Olympia. The police captured some documents in which the teabaggers detailed their plan to falsely claim that they took Olympia. That was just like the teabaggers, Carol thought. The only thing they have is lies. Who would believe those so-called “Patriots”?

Carol forced herself to turn off NPR so she could get to sleep and get to work well rested. She was careful to quietly go into her bedroom. Her little off-campus house was full of new houseguests. Her first set of guests in June, Maria and her two adorable little boys, Enrique and Fabiano, were refugees from Los Angeles after the riots. They were undocumented immigrants and the good people of southern California, unlike the rednecks in Texas, tried to accommodate as many of them as possible. But years of underspending on social services and public infrastructure in California meant there weren’t enough resources for them down there. Seattle gladly took them in, and Carol volunteered to house them. They were issued FCards and lived with her until right before Thanksgiving. Then they were given jobs in eastern Washington at a potato processing plant. They were sad to leave but understood that everyone needed to do their part for the Recovery.

This freed up Carol’s little house for more houseguests. Right before Christmas, she received word that she’d be getting a family from Olympia. She wasn’t told much about her new family, a nice couple with two high-school aged sons, due to security concerns. Apparently, the mom in the family worked for some important state agency and the family was relocated to a safe place like Seattle. They didn’t talk much about Olympia, but it sounded to Carol like things had been rough on government officials down in Olympia over the previous few weeks. Not everyone was pulling their weight for the Recovery, it seemed, and there were some greedy people jealous of officials who were working hard to help people. The mom still worked for the state agency in the offices they took over at the University, and the dad volunteered for the FCorps. The sons had joined the National Guard and were preparing to start training. They were a very nice family.

Carol appreciated the extra FCards the family brought to her house. As public employees, all four of them had a generous amount of credits, which was good because food and little luxuries were becoming harder to find in Seattle. They were still available, it just took some searching. The mom, in particular, seemed to know which stores had things. The alternative was the black market, which seemed to be gaining strength every day. It was becoming common for people to openly buy and sell from the little stands that were popping up on street corners. Everyone knew the buying and selling, usually by barter and without all the necessary permits, was illegal. Yet no one seemed to shut them down, except occasional ones who were made into examples. Carol made her first illegal purchase at the end of December. She really, really needed some pretty wrapping paper for a winter solstice gift for her new houseguests. She traded a pound of coffee she purchased with her FCard for the wrapping paper, which was adorned with cute little reindeer. It was for a good cause: she was brightening up her houseguests’ holiday after they had to relocate.

Carol tried to be as quiet as possible when she tiptoed from the living room into her bedroom. As she walked by the two sons sleeping on the couch and floor, she wondered why her family, mainly her brother, couldn’t be like them. Nice. Helping in the Recovery.

Chapter 312

Life in Forks

(January 2)