The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4) (16 page)

Annaliese’s eyes grew heavy. “Okay, I’ll do that. Um, yes, I’ll make him cookies when I . . .” Her eyelids fluttered open and closed.

“Sweetheart, just get some sleep.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, I’m just so tired.”

She pressed her eyes closed but openly them quickly and said, “I love you, Sebastian.”

“I love you too.”

He watched as she breathed slowly, falling into a deep slumber. He took his hand and brushed some of her blond hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ears. Standing, he planted a soft kiss upon her cheek.

The hum of the monitors was the only sound in the room, leaving Sebastian with his thoughts. He was worried about Gordon. If something happened to him, he didn’t know how he’d face Samantha, much less Haley. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the card from Wilbur. Of anyone, she should know about the situation in Coos Bay. He picked up the phone on the table next to him. Surprisingly, there was a dial tone. He punched in the number and waited. It rang for a few moments until a voice he recognized answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Sebastian Van Zandt. Sorry to bother you, but you said to call if I needed anything.

McCall, Idaho

Nelson opened the door to The Bistro, a local hangout. The smell of smoke, baked goods, and coffee washed over him. Like Gordon, he had been invited to come and meet Charles, a representative from the Western Cascadian movement. For the most part, he stayed out of the local politics, but any excuse to get out of the house was enough for him, particularly after the struggle of the past few months. He had suffered greatly from the gun battle in Eagle, and for a time, it looked like he wouldn’t make it. He felt blessed to be alive and promised to live his life with greater joy and gratitude. The death of his father hit him hard, but it was his mother who shouldered the brunt of the pain. Months had passed and she was still in deep mourning over the loss of her Frank. Many of her days were spent wandering their house in her nightgown. Nelson tried desperately to help with her depression but each attempt was countered with the same “Leave me alone” or “Let me be.” Nelson didn’t like conflict and after his attempts to soothe her failed, he decided to indeed just let her be. He went out of his way to make her life easy and effortless, but he stopped mentioning his father and her depression.

With his mother incapable of helping him while he was healing, Seneca jumped in and was there daily to clean his wounds, feed, and care for him. When anyone asked about his recovery, he always gave her credit. Ironically those weeks bedridden were some of the best he had ever had in his life. Each day was filled with countless hours of deep conversations, laughing, and tender touches. He sometimes joked that he had gotten better earlier but was just pretending so she’d be at his bedside daily. The selflessness she showed him endeared her again in his heart. It had taken him a long time to get over their breakup years before, but he never mentioned it and neither did she. He preferred to live in the present, rather than dwelling on the past.

Once he was able to get around again, he took the first chance he had to ask her out on a date. He thought it funny that even in a world turned upside down that romance was still alive and well. In fact, the intensity of the new world made romantic endeavors even more powerful because people never wanted to miss out on a chance to experience love. Not only did tonight provide him the ability to get out, it gave him a chance to see Seneca. It wasn’t an ideal date, but then again, the luxuries of the past world weren’t available. The Bistro was a hub, and the very least he could do was buy her a drink and enjoy her company.

Nelson surveyed the room. The volume was high with conversation, debate, and laughter. He had his judgments about the crowd but there seemed to be a fair representation of the town’s people. Young and old, male and female all sat together discussing the political topic that brought them together: secession from the United States.

“Nelson, over here!” Michael hollered from across the room.

Nelson made his way to the table and sat down with Michael and another man.

“Want some shine?” Michael offered, handing him a tall glass of clear liquid.

“Sure.”

“I’d offer you whiskey but I’m sure you know the joint ran out of everything months ago. The owner of the café now distills this. It’s not too bad. Made with homegrown Idaho potatoes,” Michael said.

Nelson took the half-filled tallboy glass and smelled it. The strong alcohol smell shocked his senses. The shine was absent of any specific taste, but it had a signature burn, and from what he had heard, a signature hangover if one indulged too heavily.

“Hmm, not bad, but I still like my Maker’s.” Michael raised his glass and they clinked glasses.

“This is Charles Chenoweth. He’s from our movement in Olympia,” Michael said, gesturing to a tall, bearded man to his right. He wore an old baseball hat that had the Doug flag emblazoned on it, the symbol of this movement.

“Nice meeting you, Charles. I’m Nelson,” he said, putting out his hand.

Charles took Nelson’s hand and shook it. “Nice meeting you too. Glad you could come out. Michael here has talked highly of you. He says you’d be a good asset to our movement.”

“Not sure what Michael said to make you believe that, but I’m here to listen. I’m not joining anything just yet.”

“And I appreciate that! I wanted you to meet Preston, a colleague of mine from Olympia, but he’s not feeling well.”

“So there are two groups in the movement, I’ve heard?” Nelson asked.

Michael jumped in and said, “We are equally focused on having independence for ourselves. We just differ slightly on how to accomplish that.”

Charles grinned and responded, “I would agree with Michael on that.”

Michael had invited Charles to come and visit to show a united front for the party. McCall had become the epicenter of the Cascadian Movement in the east. The factions had two distinct ideological, core-belief differences, but one common goal and that was independence for Cascadia. There were some differences on what physical boundaries constituted Cascadia. The western Cascadia included all of Washington State and parts of Oregon, Idaho, and British Columbia. The eastern faction agreed with those boundaries but wanted all of Oregon and all of Idaho. There were also strong divisions on how to approach the United States and Canadian governments with independence. Michael and many in the east wanted a peaceful and democratic separation but would be willing to negotiate a loose affiliation or confederation with the United States and Canada if need be. The west wanted nothing but a full separation and was willing to fight for it.

Michael was instrumental in establishing the foothold for Cascadia in the east. He was looking at elected office, but his dreams of power were not local but national. He felt it important to finally meet those leaders in the west and begin to formalize a relationship that could ultimately end with them merging under a common goal. He knew they needed the west to win their independence.

Wherever Michael went, he invited townspeople to come to their meetings. He felt that the more who listened, the more they’d convert to their cause. Before the lights went out, he rarely ever talked about the idea of seceding—for him it was a pipe dream. But as soon as everything changed, he saw the opportunity and grasped it. As each day passed without federal or state response, converting followers became easier and easier. At first people were resistant to change, but their patience was wearing thin as days became weeks and then months. No longer did he have to hard-close people on the idea of independence when all they had to do was look around and see that they were abandoned and left to survive on their own.

Michael knew Nelson and the others would be a great asset to their movement and hoped that if he could recruit Nelson, it would make it easier for Gordon to come along if both Nelson and Sebastian were applying pressure.

“Has Michael shared with you what Cascadia means?” Charles asked.

Nelson looked around the room for Seneca, who was supposed to be arriving any minute. He turned his attention back to Charles. “Yeah, he’s mentioned it before.”

“So, let me ask you, what can be wrong with it?”

“Listen, I know what I’m getting with President Conner and the government back in Cheyenne. With you, I don’t know what I’ll get in the end. I’ve seen too much to trust that the fix for the ills that exist is as easy as flipping a switch. Changing the name of our country and flying a pretty flag doesn’t make things better.”

“What you’re getting with President Conner and his regime is more of the same. The government neglected us before all of this happened and now they’re engaging in what can only be described as criminal neglect and abandonment. We have been surviving on our own for a long time now. Why not just make it official and be independent?”

Nelson was half listening to Charles as he kept looking toward the door.

“Am I boring you?” Charles snapped.

“I’m waiting for someone, sorry. I’m listening.”

“Good, you invited someone else to come?” Michael asked.

“Yes, my girlfriend, Seneca,” Nelson said, thinking that he liked saying the word
girlfriend
when referring to Seneca.

“Sorry to snap. I don’t like to waste my breath. It’s fine if you’re not interested, just let me know.”

“I’m curious, I am, really.”

“Fair enough. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to start the meeting,” Charles said, then stood and walked to the center of the room.

“Really glad you came out, Nelson, it means a lot. Sorry that Gordon couldn’t make it. Where did you say he was again?” Michael asked.

“Not sure.”

Michael wasn’t one to press when he realized Nelson was not going to give up anything on his old friend. “No worries.”

Seneca had snuck in unnoticed by Nelson. She sidled up beside him and planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek. Startled, Nelson jumped up. “Hey, so glad you came out.”

Seneca hugged him and promptly sat down, seeing that the room was being silenced for the upcoming meeting.

“Michael, you’ve met Seneca, right?”

“Yes. Hi, Seneca.”

“Hi. Um, what’s this?” she asked, pointing at Nelson’s glass.

“Kerosene.”

“He’s starting. Listen,” Michael blurted out.

“Everyone, quiet!” Charles said loudly.

All eyes turned to Charles as the volume in the room went to zero. Nelson looked around. He estimated there were over seventy people in the main room; every chair and space to stand was taken, and there were more people out on the patio.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. Michael said the group looks bigger than last month’s. For those new to our group, Cascadia welcomes you. It will take all of us here to enact the change we are looking for. Many of the new people here have come because you feel betrayed by the government, and you should. Like I have been saying since the day I helped found this movement, we can’t trust those in the seats of power. Their only interests were themselves and their corporate sponsors. While the rest of us have fought each and every day to survive, those that allowed this to happen are doing just fine. Somewhere they are sitting in the comfort and safety of their bunkers. Their past transgressions brought this apocalypse and now they don’t have to suffer from it. They knew it was coming; this is why they prepared for it to collapse. What they didn’t factor into this collapse is that we are a strong people. We have now adapted to living without them, so with that knowledge the question begs to be answered, why do we need them at all? Why should we wait for them to crawl out of their bunkers to claim what is left? Here is my answer: We shouldn’t. This is our moment to mobilize. We must organize, march forces on our state capitals, and not only declare our independence but seize it.” Charles paused to take a breath.

The Bistro roared with applause.

“When Michael invited me to come to McCall, I jumped at the chance to meet our brothers and sisters who, like us in the west, are determined to live in a truly free country. I also came here to make sure we all can have a common approach to this. But before I go into detail let me first thank Michael for my warm welcome and the invitation. Michael, please stand, and everyone give this man a round of applause,” Charles said, pointing at Michael.

The crowd again burst into applause accompanied by hoots and hollers.

“Our goal in the west is to march on Olympia on August fifteenth. There we will declare our independence from tyranny and send a message that we’re creating our own independent state where human rights, the environment, social justice, and a fair trade economy will flourish. Cascadia will be a beacon to the world announcing that the days of a greed-based capitalistic economy are over. We will not destroy our environment, we will not pervert nature, but live within our means and within our ecosystem with the understanding that we’re not dominant over it but take an equal part in it,” Charles boomed.

The response was more tepid this time. Nelson took note of the less enthusiastic response; he himself felt uncomfortable with some of Charles’s words. To him, it sounded like veiled socialism. If Nelson had a vision of independence, it didn’t sound like this. He believed that government was a necessary evil and wanted it to come together for defense, to build roads and to staff police, and he even could get behind making sure the environment was protected; but when Charles attacked capitalism, he cringed.

Charles spoke for another fifteen minutes. He dove into how the new government would be structured under a parliamentary system and discussed a range of topics in depth, from defense to energy to a judicial system.

Nelson was impressed with how thorough and detailed he was; this showed him that the idea wasn’t completely harebrained. But during Charles’s speech, several items raised red flags for him.

Charles finished by saying, “I’m here to answer any questions so feel free to ask.”

Only a few clapped their approval with Charles’s speech. What started as a raucous chorus now suffered a blow of dispiritedness. Picking up on this, Michael jumped up.