The World Cowers Page 7

  Everyone looked at Duncan who was red faced. “Blasted kid,” he growled before he was hushed by everyone.

  “Everyone who’s listened in to the broadcast knows all about John Davis, or Boss Hogg as I called him. The hearing highlighted the fact that he was not in fact running his office as he was supposed to, and the President has removed him. I spoke with the President myself, and the negotiations for our pardons has been met. First thing though, they needed a new Governor, and they needed one now,”

  “Oh God, they made him Governor?” Patty asked.

  “Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” Everyone hissed.

  “Talking with the panel and the President, it was decided that Franklin Hines, the director of FEMA will be taking over Mr. Davis’s position. Until a replacement is found, I’ll be working with Mr. Hines in his former role. I have no wish to work here any longer than necessary, but Chris, Duncan, Lisa; we’ll be coming home soon.”

  Everyone erupted in cheers.

  “For me, this means a lot of travel and transport. I would like nothing more than to have our own people work with me as I travel, so Sandra’s squad, get ready to roll, also one unit of Sgt. Smith’s as well.”

  “What about Sandra?” a voice cut into the transmission, and everyone blinked, wondering who it was.

  “That sounds like Z,” Patty whispered.

  “Hey, is that Miss Z?” Blake asked.

  “Yeah, uh… sorry. Hi.”

  “Well, I’m glad you asked. For now, the remaining folks at the Homestead need to get ready. We’re going to be hosting a bit of a party soon, and Sandra is going to be in charge! There’s a lot I cannot say over the open air, nor do I even want to go to scramble to discuss it, just know that I’ll be home to tell my family in person, and for those of you who aren’t at the Homestead… Get on up here. Kentucky will never be the same again, and make sure you listen in, because the new Governor Hines is going to be asking a lot of us in the coming months. I have a Huey to catch, so this is Black Jackson,” he said “and this is Sandra,” she said, “signing off for now,” they both chorused.

  The music queued back up, and everyone sat and listened to it in mute silence before Patty launched herself towards the Radio stand, trying to pick up the mic before they had walked away. She’d tripped over her own foot in her haste and at the last second, Sgt. Smith braced himself as her whole body weight collided with him, knocking them both to the ground. They came to rest, arms and legs tangled up, both trying to separate quickly. Patty made it to her feet first and grabbed the mic.

  “Blake? Sandra? You still there, come in over?” Patty said, taking her finger off the mic key.

  “Just barely,” Sandra said, her voice quiet.

  “You take care of yourself and that baby!”

  “You’re talking about Blake, aren’t you?” Sandra asked, laughing.

  “Yeah, him too,” Patty said, smiling so big it made her cheeks hurt.

  “I promise. See you in an hour, Sandra and Blake out.”

  * * *

  Two helicopters landed an hour later; the Huey brought the Jacksons back home with some men the Homesteaders didn’t recognize, some in uniform, some not, the second was an Apache, which also landed. It’d been their escort apparently.

  “Dad! Mom!” Chris shouted, running towards them, his eyes watering from the dust kicked up from the rotor wash.

  Both Jacksons broke into a run and when Chris was no more than eight feet away he leapt, effectively tackling Blake. Sandra laughed as two of her men rolled on the ground, wrestling and hugging. The pain that Blake felt from his healed gunshot wounds didn’t slow him much.

  Duncan and Lisa waited on the porch swing while the rest of the Homestead surrounded the small group, shouting questions. As was the custom, Blake and Sandra led everyone towards the house, where they could sit on the steps and talk to more people at once. Many of the security forgot their places and left their concealment, shocking some of the men and women traveling with Blake and Sandra, but the whole Homestead had a sense of carnival in the air. For many people there, the couple had been their saviors, saving them from horrible fates or starvation. Blake and Sandra were not just the head of the Homestead, they were beloved property of the people.

  “Would you look at that?” Sgt. Smith said, standing next to Duncan.

  “I’m going to have to talk to them about breaking ranks and keeping their eyes on their jobs,” Duncan growled.

  “Go easy old man,” Sgt. Smith said, “you don’t want to pop a blood vessel now.”

  “I’ll pop your—“

  “I’ll just have Patty tackle you down old man, don’t you sass me,” Sgt. Smith said grinning and turned to see the normally silent woman turn a dark red color in the face.

  “Not everyone broke ranks,” Duncan said, “I don’t see Corrine.”

  “She’s a crafty one,” David said, walking out, letting the last of the sun’s dying rays to blind him, smiling deeply.

  The former slaver felt as if a big weight had been lifted from his chest. Although Blake hadn’t saved him directly, he’d been the one to allow David to redeem himself for not being strong enough to have walked away from his brother’s evil plans. Blake was also the one who’d figured out that, even though David had lived in a nest of vipers, he was the one that had done all he could for the women he was in charge of. With Blake back, David once again felt like he belonged.

  “Oh really?” Corrine said, walking around the porch, startling David so badly, he almost fell off the side of the porch, over the railing.

  “Oh my God, woman…” David blurted, red in the face from embarrassment.

  “Let’s go see them,” she said, motioning for him to come down.

  Together, hand in hand they walked to the group, not waiting for them to come to the house.

  “They really could have waited,” Duncan said.

  “I know dear,” Lisa said, kissing him deeply, making the big man turn red in the face, and Patty cleared her throat a couple of times.

  “What was that for?” Duncan sputtered.

  “Just because,” Lisa said smiling.

  “Some kind of just because,” Sgt. Smith grumped, embarrassed at the public display of affection.

  “You better watch it Sgt. Smith, I’ll have Patty tackle you again,” Duncan said, enjoying how Sgt. Smith turned red in the face as Patty sputtered.

  “It’s good to be home!” Sandra said, getting close to the porch steps.

  The entire Homestead had encircled the people from the chopper, now split to the sides so they could all come up. Blake, Sandra and a man and woman nobody knew approached. They hugged their parents deeply, whispering to them. After a moment, Blake and Sandra sat, Chris in Sandra’s arms now, getting the wind squeezed out of her. The man and woman sat as well.

  “Well shucks,” Blake said, squirming as almost four hundred eyes bored holes into them.

  The whispers and talking was excited and it was hard to hear. Somebody hissed “sssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” and soon the crowd settled down, many people sat down in the grass.

  In the distance, the helicopter pilots sat as well, men and a woman on the edges of the open bays of the Huey.

  “This is Governor Hines to my left,” Blake said, indicating the man, “And his assistant Miss Patricia Wisemer, formerly Governor Davis’s aide, who was instrumental in bringing vital info to the panel.”

  Just weeks ago, having the Governor present would have elicited hostile glares, but the air had a festival quality to it and everyone cheered.

  “Now, here’s what I couldn’t say over the air…”

  Blake and Sandra took turns with the Governor, filling them in what it took for them to get a Presidential pardon. Blake had agreed on taking on the role of FEMA director, hopefully turning the public’s impression of the camps around. They admitted there were camps where abuse ran rampant, but not the two camps in Kentucky to date.

  They would open the camps up and let people stay or go
as they pleased. They had worked out a rough plan on work for food. The component shortages were going to be a real issue as many of them were Chinese built, and with a state of War open with North Korea, China was rattling its sabers. Nobody wanted an all-out shooting war with China, but things were starting to look like that was the direction it was headed. Instead, the components were coming in from manufacturers in some of the more stable regions of Mexico and Canada by electronics manufacturers who formerly had made circuit boards for the automotive industry. They were retooling, and soon people would have more than copper wire to wrap around generators.

  The cities of Kentucky would be opened up for all who wanted to flee the violence. They would be settled in the suburbs surrounding the camps, or work centers, as they were going to call them. It was something new, something the President reluctantly agreed on, and Kentucky would be the first state to have this on a trial basis.

  The new communities would have several members visiting the Homestead to learn and, in turn, go back and teach their communities. It wouldn’t be enough, so Blake asked everybody for volunteers to go to the communities and work with them. Almost every able-bodied man, woman and child raised their hands, much to Blake’s amusement.

  “Can’t let you all go!” Blake grumbled, “Besides, Sandra and Duncan here are going to be having a big job to do soon.”

  “My, uh…” Duncan said, tapping his chest.

  “You’re on the organizational end. I want you to be our go-between with the higher up military officials. Dumb it down so a country hillbilly can understand them, and vice versa. Besides, they have a cardiologist who’s waiting to see you soon,” Blake told him and turned, and didn’t have a lot of time before he was overwhelmed with questions.

  “Sandra’s going to be working with members of Sgt. Smith’s team. Between her and three others she told me about, we’re going to be training a civilian militia, similar to Sandra’s squad—“

  “Oh yeah!” a kid yelled and everybody cheered, making him sit down red faced.

  “The threat from the Southwest is real. Most of us won’t be involved in the fight directly, but here in the heartland we can train, supply, teach others and support the nation as it pulls itself back together. I’m supposed to continue Rebel Radio, and David here,” Blake said pointing behind him, “Is about to get some new communications toys to play with. Sorry Patty, I may need to steal you to go with me and Sgt. Smith when we travel.”

  “That’s no problem with me,” Sgt. Smith said, looking at Patty who turned crimson and then kicked him in the shin, making him hop around on one leg.

  Everybody busted up laughing at that.

  “This place is about to get busy and we’re going to be swamped with people soon, ready for training. Bobby, Melissa.”

  “Yes?” Bobby yelled from the side, drawing Blake’s attention.

  “You two have done wonders with the census and keeping things organized. I’d like for you to keep doing that. You’re both in charge of getting background information, making teams,” they both nodded...

  “Mom?” Blake asked, turning to Lisa.

  “Yes?”

  “I need you to teach people basic food storage. I know that doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s what you’ve been doing already, now with just an audience. We’re going to set up some space outside here for you to work with others.”

  “You can count on me, son,” she beamed.

  “Wow, what’s happened to him?” Duncan asked Lisa quietly. “He doesn’t sound like the same man who left here.”

  “I think he finally gave up his insecurities,” Lisa whispered back, taking Duncan’s hand and squeezing it.

  “Sgt. Smith, Corinne?” Blake yelled.

  Both answered from different points of the crowd.

  “You are going to be with me when we travel. One unit of each, military and civilian. I sort of think we might as well combine them anyways, since many of your groups are already uh…. a thing?” Blake said but they both smiled and nodded.

  “Things are going to get really interesting really fast,” Sandra shouted, startling everyone.

  Her size made people underestimate her at first, but the voice that came forth bellowed and carried without the need of a megaphone. A trait she shared with her father.

  “We’ve got less than a month to train up our trainers and find a place for us to start working with the volunteer militia. It’ll be just like the Homestead in principal. You work, you eat. You fight, you win. Does that sound fair?”

  The crowd shouted a resounding yes and everyone was crying, clapping and laughing.

  “Now,” Blake said, his voice carrying over the crowd, “The guy who had a working iPod in the bunker has loaned it to me along with some speakers to go with it. If that won’t work, we’ll pull an APC up here,” Blake shouted, “And have us one good party.”

  “I thought he said he wasn’t a leader,” Hines whispered to Pamela Wisemer, who’d been briefed on everything before and after.

  “The good ones are those who don’t want it,” she whispered back, her words almost lost in the noise and excitement of the crowd.

  “Unlike Davis,” Hines whispered.

  “Maybe like you too,” she said, poking him in the chest and she stood, holding her hand out to him.

  “What’s this?” Sandra asked, pulling her man to her feet also.

  “You said something about a party,” Pamela said loudly, “I want a dance!”

  The men all started shouting offers to dance, as the men in the Huey keyed up the music.

  “No, the first dance is mine,” Hines told them all, but even he was smiling.

  With so much uncertainty and a very real war squeezing the country from both sides, it was hard to have moments of fun, but even the phoenix rises out of the ashes, so shall America one day.

  --The End--

  About the Author

  Boyd Craven III was born and raised in Michigan, an avid outdoorsman who’s always loved to read and write from a young age. When he isn’t working outside on the farm, or chasing a household of kids, he’s sitting in his Lazy Boy, typing away.

  You can find the rest of Boyd’s books on Amazon here.

  @boydc3

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