The Line of Departure: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series Book 4) (29 page)

After what had just happened to him in Coos Bay and to Sebastian in Cheyenne, he needed to be active with regard not only to protecting his family but in creating a place for them to flourish in. The way he could do that was to be a part of a new political system, like Cascadia, where he could dictate the rules and laws that he and his family lived under. What happened in Coos Bay gave him a glimpse of what a corrupt and desperate system looked like—both Barone’s and Conner’s. Conner had ordered his execution, after all. He understood the desire and necessity for Conner to rid himself of Barone, but what had he done? Now his brother was captive and he was a fugitive. If Conner was ruthless enough to attempt to assassinate him, what else was he capable of? He had to marshal the people of McCall to protect them from what was coming, and instead of convincing them, he needed to be in charge of the entire thing. If he wanted to keep his family safe, he would have to create and then lead this new system. He couldn’t trust anyone else to do this. He had to be the one.

With each passing mile he plotted just how he’d make his way to the top of the political food chain in McCall. He had the skill set, the knowledge, the connections, and some firepower. Those things would give him a seat at the table. Once there, he’d find a way to be the one at the head of it.

 • • • 

The northern checkpoint to McCall sat in the middle of Highway 55, adjacent to the entrance of Brundage Mountain Ski Resort. Stretching from one side of the road to the other were three rows of abandoned cars. Barbed wire, broken glass, and metals spikes were strewn in front of that a narrow chute made from old railroad ties that directed a single car or vehicle into the main guard. Rainey had designed what he thought was a very effective checkpoint.

Gordon went into the chute and was cleared quickly. He saw Rainey and motioned him over.

“Chief, how are you?”

“We’ve seen better times. What do you have there?” Rainey asked, motioning to the TOW missile system mounted on the hood of the Humvee.

“It’s a blender,” Gordon joked.

Rainey laughed. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, here and there.”

“I won’t ask further. I do advise you take a mask and gloves before you make your way into town, though.”

“How’s it going?” Gordon asked, eager to get Rainey’s thoughts on the pandemic.

“It’s not good, but we have hope that Charles Chenowith will pull a Hail Mary and find a cure.”

“Listen, Chief, I want to help out.”

“Sure thing, we have some shifts open . . .”

“Not that—I want to help more than that. I don’t want to be a body that you use to help fill a schedule here or there. I want to help in the decision making.”

“We leave those sorts of things to our elected leaders.”

“Chief, I have some critical information that you and the town leadership need to be made aware of. I know you’re busy now, but can we and the mayor and city council meet later?”

“Well, the mayor is sick, but I can pull the others together. Say, around one this afternoon?”

“I’ll be there,” Gordon answered. With that, he fired up the Hummer and drove off toward his reunion with Samantha and Haley.

 • • • 

The empty streets of town were the first change he noticed. Mother Nature had a way of reminding everyone who was really in charge of things.

When he arrived at his house, there was a sadness that hung over it, like an invisible dark cloud. He jumped out of the Hummer and quickly jogged to the front door. He found it locked and knocked to announce his arrival.

A moment later, he heard the loud clack of the dead bolt being unlocked. The door opened, and there stood a weary but smiling Samantha.

“You’re finally home, thank God,” she said as she embraced him.

They held each other and kissed.

Her body felt good to his touch. He had missed her so much. He pulled her away when he felt the warm tears soak through the fabric of his shirt. “You’re crying.”

“I just missed you so much. This whole thing with the kids has me really scared,” she said softly, wiping tears from her face and eyes.

“We’ll get through this. Just remember, Haley is a Van Zandt. We’re stubborn. We won’t let a little ol’ virus take us out,” Gordon said, attempting a little humor.

Samantha smiled. “She’s awake right now. She refused to take a nap ever since I told her you’d be coming home this morning.”

Gordon again kissed Samantha then made his way into the house. He marched down the hall toward Haley’s bedroom when Samantha stopped him.

“Here, you’ll need this,” she said, handing him latex gloves and a mask.

Gordon hesitated at first but realized the importance of not getting sick. He donned the protective items then entered Haley’s room.

“Dada,” Haley said.

“Hi, baby, how ya doing?” Gordon asked as he quickly stepped across the room to her bedside and sat down.

Haley instinctually rolled over and embraced Gordon, who didn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

“I missed you, Dada. I’m happy you’re home,” Haley said, her head now resting in Gordon’s lap.

A wave of emotions washed across him as he looked down at her gaunt face. Her eyes were sunken and her skin was ashen. Her little body looked thin and weak. Tears began to well up in his eyes as he saw just how sick she was.

Within minutes she was fast asleep in his arms. She had waited patiently to see him, and with that fulfilled, she gave into the fatigue. Gordon watched her labored breathing and leaned back against the headboard. He too decided to let sleep take him and soon he was sleeping.

 • • • 

Gordon shot up, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked beside him and saw Haley lying sweetly, her chest rising and falling. Instinctively he looked on his wrist for his watch but he had taken it off early that morning. Knowing he had set a meeting with Rainey and the city council he sprang to his feet. When he entered the hallway, he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. He made his way toward it and was surprised when he encountered Nelson.

“Looky who’s awake. How ya doing?” Nelson asked, stopping what he was doing behind the counter in the kitchen.

“Hey, buddy. What time is it?”

“Oh, about twelve-thirty.”

“Good, I was worried I overslept.”

“You were sleeping like a baby in there.”

Gordon removed the mask and gloves and placed them on the counter.

With a pair of tongs, Nelson grabbed them and immediately tossed them in the trash can. He then took a spray bottle filled with bleach, sprayed the spot the gloves had been placed, and wiped it all up with paper towels.

Gordon watched him curiously.

“Gotta keep up on this shit, man. The last thing you want is to get sick,” Nelson commented, tossing away the paper towel.

“Sorry, wasn’t thinking.”

“How was the trip?”

“A clusterfuck.”

“What happened?”

“Too much to tell right now. Where’s Sam?”

“Oh, she went to go see her friend Phyllis.”

“Who?”

“The lady cooking up home remedies for the kids.”

“So you’re holding the fort down?” Gordon asked.

“Just helping out, that’s all.”

“Once again, Nelson is here when I’m not. Thanks, man, you’re a good friend.”

“That’s what friends do. But do me a favor—can you please stop running off?”

“That I can’t promise. I’m sure you heard about Sebastian and Annaliese?”

“Yeah, sorry to hear. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, but when I do, I’ll keep you in the loop. I’d stay and chat but I have a meeting with the chief and city council at one,” Gordon said.

“God, man, don’t you ever stop and rest?”

Gordon looked at him squarely. “If you stop moving in this world, you die.”

 • • • 

Timeliness was very important to Gordon so when he looked at the clock and saw it read 1:12, he became a bit agitated. When people were late to affairs, regardless of how trivial some might have thought they were, like a dinner or cocktail party, he took it personally. He wanted to assume that something so big had happened that they were detained; and the way things happened now, that very well could be the issue. However, he still hated waiting.

He stood from the old office chair in the city hall conference room and began to pace the room. When he folded his arms he was reminded of the knife wound he had sustained in Coos Bay. Beneath his cotton T-shirt, he could feel the bandage. He ran his fingers up and down the thick adhesive, his mind now revisiting that fight with Finley.

The door opened, jarring his thoughts, and there stood Rainey, his buttoned short-sleeve collared shirt soaked with sweat stuck to his body.

“Sorry, Gordon, we were all at the hospital.”

Gordon nodded.

“I really hate having you wait but we had to go.”

“Shit happens.”

“Yes, sir, it does, and more shit just happened.”

Gordon cocked his head.

“The mayor is dead.”

Gordon sat down with the knowledge. “I know this outbreak is bad, but how do you feel about our chances of surviving this?” he asked.

Rainey pulled a chair out and sat down across from Gordon. “You want me to be honest with you? It’s very bad. The state government in Mountain Home is paralyzed from it, and all we’ve heard from Cheyenne is that they are sending aid, but we don’t know when that will arrive and just what it will look like. In the absence of a vaccine or cure, we will have to just sit and let this go through the population.”

“Unless Charles and Gunny Smith are successful.”

“Come on, Gordon, what are the odds that Charles’s sister has a vaccine?”

Taking a deep breath, Gordon nodded. “You’re right, it’s a long shot and seems pretty unbelievable.”

“Right now, we’ve done all we can do to isolate the sick and provide comfort. We’ve put into action some strict quarantine protocols. I just don’t see Charles or the Feds coming with a cure. Without a vaccine or cure, we’ll have to just let this take its course.”

“Have the doctors been giving everyone the natural remedies that Phyllis has been concocting for Haley and Luke?”

“Yes, they have been, but it only helps some of the symptoms. People are still dying.”

Gordon looked at the clock and then back to Rainey. “Is the council coming?”

“No, they’re meeting now to select an interim mayor till we can hold an election.”

Gordon didn’t like hearing that he wouldn’t be able to present his concern to the entire council.

“So, what did you want to tell us that was critical?” Rainey asked.

“I don’t know how to put this without it sounding paranoid, but the federal forces coming are not coming to help us. They’re coming to arrest me and those affiliated with Cascadia.”

“Where did you get this information?”

“My wife received a phone call from a Major Schmidt back in Cheyenne. They’ve arrested my brother and said they are coming here. They demanded that I and the Cascadian leadership turn ourselves in or they’ll try my brother for treason.”

“Treason?” Rainey asked, shocked.

“Chief, in all honesty it could be said that what you, my brother, and the other Cascadians were doing was possibly seditious, even treasonous.”

“You’re siding with them?”

“No, no, don’t get me wrong, I just can see how President Conner might view this is all. Just because I can understand their motives doesn’t mean I condone them. Christ, man, they have my brother. You think I’m on their side?”

Rainey, normally a calm man, looked nervous. He ran his fingers through his hair. “As if we needed something else to worry about.”

“Chief, you have a lot on your plate. This is where I can help. I have experience, I’ve led men in battle before—”

“Battle? You think we’re going to war?”

“I didn’t say war, but I’m not about to surrender to them, which means things could get ugly.”

“I need to inform the council of this immediately,” Rainey said as he stood.

“I want to come too.”

Rainey looked at him and said, “Of course you’re coming. I want you there when I nominate you.”

“Nominate me for what?”

“I don’t know what the title will be, but anyone who leaves town in military choppers and returns with missile systems and other military gadgets is someone I need doing more than perimeter checks.”

Gordon smiled. He wasn’t one who liked to receive praise but in his mind, Rainey was right. He had a skill set and resources that the town could use, and if they were going to defend themselves from another force, they needed him. Now he wouldn’t be just a player out of many; he was carving out that leadership role he set his mind to having.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal . . .”

—Thomas Jefferson

Cheyenne, Wyoming

G
eneral Baxter took the glass of whiskey and tossed it back. His index finger nervously tapped the side of the glass as he contemplated having another drink. He typically hated waiting but given the present circumstances, the waiting he had to endure was torment. He knew setting up another secret meeting with Wilbur was risky, but he needed to confer with her so they both knew how to proceed following the arrest of Dylan.

His front door opened and closed quickly with a loud thud. He had a sudden vision flash before him of him getting ambushed and arrested. That nervous anticipation dissipated as Secretary Wilbur appeared in the doorway.

“General, good morning,” Wilbur said.

“Madam Secretary, please take a seat.”

She strode across the small den of his residence and sat across from him.

“I don’t think—”

“Don’t talk, just listen,” he said, interrupting her. “I asked you to come over here to tell you I’m out. I have no interest in working against President Conner or Major Schmidt. They haven’t done anything to me and I believe a strong case can be made that they are doing what is best for the county.”

“I had a feeling that’s what you were going to say. So what happens from here then—you turn me in?”

“Nothing happens. We continue to do our jobs and forget we ever conspired or mentioned working against the president.”

“What about Dylan? Aren’t you afraid he’ll squeal?”

Baxter poured another glass of whiskey and tossed it back. “No, I’m not worried about him. I took care of that.”

“What does that mean?”

He then looked at his watch and said, “This meeting is over. When you leave, you forget everything that has ever been said or mentioned before, like it never happened. If you wish to continue down this reckless road, you’ll do it alone, understand?”

“Understood,” she answered and stood up.

“Good, now please see yourself out.”

As she walked to the open doorway she turned and blasted him. “I never cast you as a coward, General.”

“I’m not a coward, I’m a survivor. Now please leave.”

She pursed her lips and pivoted back around. When she reached the front door a feeling of doom began to come over her. What did he mean by saying, “I took care of that,” in reference to Dylan? She stopped and looked over her shoulder. With a quick and nervous nod, she turned the door handle and swiftly walked onto the sidewalk. With the door separating her from Baxter she inhaled deeply, collected herself, and marched toward her vehicle. Quietly to herself she said, “What did you get yourself into, Bethanny?”

McCall, Idaho

Gordon opened his eyes to find Samantha looking at him. He smiled. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

He was surprised he was waking so early after such a long day before and what seemed like an endless night caring for Haley and Luke.

“I was going to wake you, but you were sleeping so soundly,” Samantha said as she reached out and rubbed his arm. They both had so much to deal with. Samantha was heartsick about Sebastian and Annaliese. It was another problem in a series of problems that kept piling up.

“Gosh, what a tough night.”

“We’ve got it easy. The poor kids.”

“You’re right, I should be thinking of them.”

“I remember you telling me you had a meeting with Michael this morning—when is that?”

“Oh God, I forgot all about that. I told him I’d meet him at his house at eight.”

“So, tell me, what happened yesterday?” she asked while pushing him in earnest.

“Tell you what?”

“Stop it, you said something big happened at the city council meeting, but with the kids and then you passing out from exhaustion last night, you never mentioned it.”

“Oh, well . . . you’re looking at the new McCall defense chief,” Gordon said, a grin from ear to ear.

Samantha raised her eyebrows. “What exactly does that mean?”

“You suggested I take on a bigger role in town. I know it’s not the open spot on the council but it’s a start.”

“What’s your job, what are your responsibilities?”

“I’m in charge of organizing, training, and equipping the McCall militia.”

“Militia?”

“Yes, McCall will have its very own army, for lack of a better word. I’m in charge of them.”

“This is in response to that Schmidt person?”

“Yes, and of course to other threats that our town might face.”

Samantha rolled onto her back and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything. If it’s not one thing it’s another. Just when I think we’re catching a break, we get slammed with something else. It’s just so . . . crazy. How are we going to stop them when they come for you and the others? We don’t have an army, we just have a bunch of regular town folk, no training, no big guns. How are we going to stop them if they come here with tanks and tons of soldiers?”

Gordon began to caress her arm and whispered, “Don’t worry about that, that’s my job. You just let me figure it all out. I have a thing or two up my sleeve that just might work.”

She looked into his eyes and trusted what she saw. Gordon had proven to be resilient and if anyone could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat it was him. “What time is it?”

Gordon looked at the old wind-up alarm clock and answered, “Seven on the nose.”

“Good, you have some time then,” Samantha purred as she crawled over and got on top of Gordon.

They kissed passionately and soon the concerns and worries were gone as they lost themselves in each other.

 • • • 

Eight o’clock came quickly and Gordon was on his way to meet Michael. He had much to discuss with him. Having secured a place within the local government, he now needed to secure a place within the dominant political party of the area.

Loyalties in McCall were already strained between those loyal to the United States and those now swearing allegiance to the Cascadians. The momentum the Cascadians had been experiencing had stopped when word came that the federal government was coming to provide support. Michael and some of the local Cascadian leadership swiftly promoted the idea that the government wasn’t coming to help but to quarantine them so that they’d all die off.

Gordon respected Michael’s endless energy and drive to better his family. He never sat idly waiting for someone else to take care of them. If he didn’t know how to do something he’d find someone who did and pick their brains till he had the knowledge. Gordon knew this was an important trait and was the reason Michael had been successful before the lights went out and was successful now.

Filled with promise, Gordon got out of his truck and walked up on Michael’s house. Michael was outside, focused on laying a straight chalk line on a board he was about to cut.

“Look at you, always working on something,” Gordon joked.

“Welcome back, stranger.”

“Good to be back.”

“One second,” Michael said as he snapped the chalk line. The thin string left a dusty red line on the board.

“Thanks for meeting me.”

Michael stopped working and motioned Gordon to come sit down on a small deck off the front of his house.

“Thirsty?” Michael asked.

Gordon loved how everyone in McCall was always polite, even given the threats that they all faced. He smiled. “I’m fine.”

“How are Haley and Luke?”

“Good as they can be. I wish we had some word from Charles or Smitty. It would just be nice to know what their status was,” Gordon lamented.

“I know, this pandemic is a problem. Don’t take this wrong but I fear it will be used to stop our process.”

“I don’t take it wrong, I actually agree with you. That’s why I’m here.”

Michael looked at him with raised eyebrows. “There
are
miracles, I guess.”

“I would have come sooner, but there just weren’t enough hours in the day,” Gordon said.

“That tone—what’s that tone I’m hearing?”

“I heard about your skepticism in regard to the federal forces coming here and you’re right. They aren’t coming to help us out—”

“I knew it!” Michael blurted out.

“They’re coming to stomp us out. They’re coming for me, you, and everyone who holds a leadership role in Cascadia.”

Michael’s face turned white upon hearing the words fall from Gordon’s mouth.

“They are coming here to McCall to arrest us all for treason,” Gordon continued. “You okay?” he asked. He could see fear in Michael’s face.

“I’m all right. I guess I knew this day could come and now it’s here. I don’t know why I didn’t think that they’d just roll over and let us have our own country,” Michael said, the tone in his voice now subdued by the reality of it all.

“Actions have consequences. Always have, always will.”

“If they arrest us, what will happen?”

“Oh, one of two things. Either they lock us away somewhere and throw away the key, Gitmo style, or they’ll execute us. I really don’t know; either way, your family, the life you know, it’s over, Michael. The dream you had of Cascadia is gone, unless . . .”

“Unless we don’t let them stop us, we fight back,” Michael said, his voice raised.

Gordon nodded and said, “That’s right, Michael, we have to fight.”

“Let me guess—you have a plan?” Michael asked as he leaned in closer to Gordon.

“It’s a delicate situation for us locally; there are many that believe the government is coming to help. We must show them that their intentions are not good. Just how we do that is something I can’t answer right now.”

“Any idea of when they’ll get here?”

“Nope, but I’ve already got a plan on how to stop them when they come our way. But before I detail that to you, I need something from you.”

Michael looked surprised. “What do you need from me?”

“Before that, let me fully explain everything so you have context.” Gordon then detailed everything to Michael; he could no longer keep things from those he knew he could trust. He needed to build a coalition, and for him there was only one side he could go with and that was with the Cascadians. He detailed his travels to Oregon months ago, Annaliese’s sickness, and the deal he struck with Conner. He explained in exhaustive detail what just happened in Coos Bay and how he had barely survived. He told him Sebastian’s situation and how that weighed on his mind. He then finished with the details of his new position within the McCall city government. For Gordon it felt like a confession, and when he was finished, he had a deep feeling of relief.

“Gordon, this is crazy, all of it,” Michael said.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry about Sebastian.”

“I just don’t know how I’m going to get him back, but I can tell you that I’m not surrendering to them.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Michael offered.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t know what I can do. But if you want me to help spring him, I’m in.”

Gordon looked at him squarely and said, “I want to help you build a new country.”

Michael almost fell out of his chair. His eyes were wide with shock.

“Really?”

“I want to be a part in this new government you’re trying to form.”

“Of course, of course,” Michael responded, palpably excited about Gordon’s conversion. “What did you have in mind?”

“A leadership role. I’m tired of listening to what people tell me to do. I want to make the rules.”

“I can’t guarantee a leadership role, but you can start in the ranks—”

Gordon cut him off and said assertively, “If Cascadia wants to be free, then it will need the ability to fight. It will need an army.”

“We have a leadership structure already; I don’t really have the power to put you in one of those positions.”

“Did you miss the part of my story where I mentioned I’m in charge of creating a militia to defend McCall? Between you and me, that will be the bedrock, the foundation of an army. What I need you to do is give me a position of power and influence. You do that and I’ll give Cascadia an army.”

Fifty-three miles west of Cheyenne, Wyoming

Perched in the turret of the lead tank, Schmidt turned and looked upon the small army he had following him. The column of tanks, trucks, and vehicles stretched for miles behind him. He felt blessed to be in the position he was in now. He was given the honorable position of cleansing the United States of the enemies who sought to divide it and split it apart. This was the greatest purpose a fighting man could be given. His mission would have a real and lasting impact on the future of his country and he took it seriously. He would do anything to make sure his country’s flag flew proudly again, everywhere.

Conner had met him in the early morning hours to send him off with his five-thousand-man-strong army. Of any day to do it, the Fourth of July gave it greater meaning. The trust that Conner gave him was something he didn’t take for granted. Conner’s actions yesterday against his chief of staff sent shock waves through the administration. Schmidt respected that decision and knew it would go far to silence opposition to the tough decisions the president had to make.

Schmidt was disappointed that his men hadn’t been able to find Annaliese Van Zandt, but having Sebastian in his custody would give him leverage if he needed it. He didn’t know how involved Gordon was in the Cascadian Movement, or if he was involved at all. For Schmidt, the arrest of Sebastian was a way he could get in front of Gordon and then exact revenge for Finley. He would satisfy his own personal revenge while giving the United States another victory.

He reached into a pocket of his tactical vest and pulled out a laminated map. They were only fifty-three miles outside of Cheyenne, with another eight hundred miles to go. By his calculations they’d be arriving on the outskirts of McCall in six days. Their route took them along old interstate highways, state highways, and county roads; his plan was to avoid any large cities and make no contact with civilians unless it fell within his rule of engagement. Initially, his plan was to make a stop at Mountain Home but he changed that so as to not contaminate his men with the virus. Instead, they would slip around the base and head north toward McCall.