299 Days: The Community (25 page)

Pow even had a hunter camo shirt in the Mossy Oak Real Tree pattern. He must have gotten it from Mark. Grant was embarrassed to note in his mind that it looked odd to see a Korean guy in hunting clothes. Grant, too, had a hunter camo shirt. It was amazing how hunter camo made these strangers with sophisticated weaponry fit in with everyone else.

The guys were eating some sandwiches that the ladies at the Grange must have made and given them for the road. Somehow Grant had missed out on them. Oh well. He got to have his kids make spaghetti and eat dinner with the whole family. That was what it was all about.

It was time to go. Lisa got on the nicest outfit she had out there, which wasn’t nearly as nice as the ones she wore to her old job. But still, she looked very professional, and pretty.

Mark was driving and Lisa got to ride in the front cab of the truck. John and Mary Anne were in the back cab. The Team piled into the back of the truck at about 6:15 p.m. Paul was on guard duty back at the shack.

The ride to the Grange was spectacular, as usual. It was a little different this time, though. Instead of just being a bunch of well-armed comrades, this was a ride with Lisa, too. It felt like the “gun” part of Grant’s life was merging with the “Lisa” part. Finally. It felt like things were complete. It felt perfect.

Lisa had not been out of Over Road for the few days she’d been out there. She hadn’t seen all the people out in their front yards waving at the Team and giving thumbs up. She was proud of Grant and the Team. She didn’t want to tell him that, though; he’d just get a big head.

They pulled into the Grange. A few people came up to them and greeted them. They seemed so glad to have them there. That would only grow when they found out that the pretty lady was a doctor.

Rich, Dan, and Ryan were in the Grange going over a map. Ryan motioned for them to come over. Mark stayed with Lisa and was introducing her to residents. He wasn’t telling them about the doctor part. Grant told him that he wanted to surprise everyone at once with that.

Rich and the others had several large plat maps of all the lots in Pierce Point. The maps had lot numbers, which started at one end of the development and increased as they went farther out. It was a logical system, like street numbers. This would help them easily learn their way around the area.

The plat map and lot numbers would serve another valuable role: organization. The lot numbers could be used to conduct an inventory of skills, equipment, and medical needs. “Block watch” captains could use lot numbers to keep track of things in their little area.

Grant realized another use for the lot numbers. Eventually, if things went well and the whole community was pulling together, the lot numbers could be used to keep track of who donated to the group effort. Not “taxes”—that was a word so hated that it should never be uttered by anyone attempting to persuade people to join them, but contributions could be tracked with the lot numbers.

With the lot numbers, all it took was a series of index cards. There could be an index card called “Mechanical Skills” with a list of lot numbers, names, and specifics like “diesel mechanic.” Another set of cards could be “Medical Needs” with, for example, a list of diabetics, broken down by Type I and Type II. The index cards were cheap, low tech, and took up no space. They didn’t require electricity, which had been flickering on and off occasionally, but was still on most of the time, surprisingly.

Directly related to the organizational uses for the lot numbers was something just as important, at least in the long-term. Politics. Grant could foresee that Pierce Point was going to be a Patriot community. Probably not a full-on community with 100% participation; there would be many undecideds and even some Loyalists. But with an Oath Keeper like Rich in charge and Grant having a lead role, the leadership out there would be solidly Patriot. The Team were Patriots and they were taking a lead role, too. Dan and Ryan seemed solid, too. While Grant couldn’t count on it—in fact, it would take a lot of work—there was a good chance Pierce Point would end up being a Patriot stronghold.

Index cards and lot numbers could be used to keep track of the helpful Patriot households, helpful undecideds, freeloaders, criminals, and hostile Loyalists. Grand had no idea if the others in Pierce Point would be thinking in terms of Patriots and Loyalists, and it was way too early to start acting on those divisions, but he was staring at a map and lot numbers that could be used to keep track of the various factions.

The index cards with lot numbers would not become a “hit list” to get Loyalists. That was the revenge-filled French Revolution approach. Instead of directly targeting Loyalists, Grant wanted to use a more nuanced approach: favoring or disfavoring people based on their contribution to the effort. And by “contribution to the effort,” Grant meant whether they were a Patriot, undecided, or Loyalist. Grant wasn’t making an assumption that Patriots would contribute and Loyalists wouldn’t. Even Loyalist contributions would be rewarded. Fair was fair.

He wouldn’t try to shoehorn his politics into the all-important topic of getting Pierce Point running as a self-sufficient and peaceful community. His goal wouldn’t be recruiting ideologues. The decent people would rise to the top and be obvious to the rest of the community. Show the decent people why they are Patriots; maybe without them thinking of themselves as Patriots. Good equals Patriot. Show people the other side of the coin: freeloading shitbags are Loyalists.

There would be no waving of the Don’t Tread on Me flag. It would be more like, “This guy really contributed and needs a little gasoline. What do you guys think?” Then when he came to pick up the gasoline, a Don’t Tread on Me flag would be pinned up at the Grange for him to see. Nuanced. Practical. Fair. Effective.

This was the approach Grant wanted to employ out there. He didn’t have dictatorial powers in Pierce Point, so he would need to use those techniques to get people to follow his lead. He had no desire to be a dictator. He’d seen enough of that and had been on the receiving end of it. He didn’t like it one bit and was damned sure not going to impose it on anyone else.

Dictatorships were a real problem when a society breaks down. People in Olympia and Seattle were probably experiencing this. Grant needed a plan to handle any dictator who might spring up in Pierce Point. Back in the Cedars, he was hamstrung because he couldn’t just strap on an AR, gather up the Team, and go deal with a dictator. Out there, though, he had plenty of firepower to deal with one, but his firepower would make him a threat to a potential dictator, so he had to watch his back. That was yet another reason to approach the Patriot versus Loyalist thing slowly and subtly. The best defense against a dictator was a strong and well organized broad base of Patriots. That’s what Grant wanted out at Pierce Point. He didn’t want to be the king; he wanted to have a mini constitutional republic that didn’t need a king.

Yes. That’s why you’re here.

Grant physically shuddered when he heard the outside thought. He knew he was supposed to be doing this. It was an amazing feeling. Powerful, yet humbling; exhilarating, yet frightening.

Grant snapped back into the reality of the meeting that was about to start. He could feel that it was going to be a crucial evening. He felt like the bad guys out there were not going to give up easily and let the good guys start running things. He just felt it.

Chapter 99

Call 911

(May 9)

Grant overheard Mark slip and introduce Lisa to a resident as “Doctor Matson.” That reminded him that he hadn’t broken the good news of Lisa’s volunteering as the Pierce Point doctor to Rich, who was in charge. Grant couldn’t blindside him like that. Rich needed to be the one to manage this news.

Grant quickly went over quickly to Rich and interrupted him while he was talking with Dan, Ryan, and Pow.

“Sorry to butt in, Rich,” Grant said, “but I have some news you need to know. I brought my wife tonight. You might let people know she’s an ER doctor.” Grant smiled.

“Whoa,” Dan said. “An ER doc?”

“Awesome,” said Ryan. He looked over at Lisa and pointed. “Her? Doctor Foxy?”

Everyone laughed. A nickname was born in an instant. Lisa probably wouldn’t mind. She was in her mid-forties and it was a compliment, and a tasteful compliment at that, which was not always the case with a Marine.

Grant filled them in on Lisa’s reluctant agreement to treat anyone she could. She would accept food and other items, but only as much as people could provide. There would be no price list and no one would be turned away. Grant didn’t describe his plan to use the doctor services to help turn Pierce Point into a Patriot stronghold. He would let that play out before talking about it.

“This is great,” Rich said. “We have at least two nurses and an EMT. We’ll have to get them together with…your wife.”

“Go ahead and say it, Rich,” Grant said with another smile. “Get them together with Doctor Foxy.”

“OK,” Rich said with a smile. “With Doctor Foxy. I’ll let you introduce her,” he said to Grant.

“And, until I let her know about her new nickname,” Grant said, “let’s keep it to ourselves. I want to see how she reacts to it first.” Rich called the meeting to order, and everyone introduced themselves. There were almost double the number of people at this meeting than were at the previous night’s. Word was getting out that the neighborhood was organizing and people needed to find out what was going on. There seemed to be more “cabin people” there than the night before.

Rich said many of the things he’d said the previous night. He introduced Dan and let him describe what an Air Force Security Forces guy does: defend installations. He introduced Ryan. “Combat Marine, Afghanistan” was all the introduction people needed to be able to understand what he could do. Then came the Team. Rich pointed to them, who were up front with Rich, Dan, and Ryan.

“These gentlemen are the ‘Team,’” Rich said, pointing to them. “They are out on Over Road. They are a group of young men and,” Rich pointed at Chip, “not so young men who have been training for about two years for a situation just like this. I’d like their leader, Grant Matson, to introduce them.”

The room was silent. Everyone appeared curious about who these guys with “machine guns” were and how they would help them. Grant started off.

“Thank you for coming out tonight,” he said. “I am Grant Matson. I have a cabin out here by the Colsons and Morrells.” Grant pointed to them and they waved. He knew it was important to establish himself as part of the locals who were already out there. He also had another trick up his sleeve to make a good impression.

“But where are my manners?” Grant said humbly. “Before I introduce the Team I’d like to introduce my wife, Lisa. She’s an emergency room doctor.”

Gasp! An audible gasp from the crowd. Then they started clapping.

“Lisa has graciously agreed to help all of us,” Grant said. “Rich will be talking later about the nurses and EMT we have out here. ” Grant loved to be the one to introduce the security force and doctor to all these people. That would make quite a first impression.

After the hoopla died down, Grant pointed to the Team, who were standing up by the podium with him. “These guys are civilians who have been training for about two years on the weekends with me,” Grant said. “To be absolutely clear, we’re not some militia or anything weird like that. If we were, Rich wouldn’t let us near here.” Rich nodded. That was a critical point to make, and it was 100% true.

Grant continued, “We started out shooting for fun, but then we got better and better. We have been training at the Olympia law enforcement range and are actually pretty good. We are just natural sheepdogs.” Grant explained that term and told the audience that each of the Team used to have normal white-collar jobs. He had to get the audience to understand something that might be unbelievable to some of them: there was actually a bunch of guys who wanted to help people and trained with guns to do it.

“We decided,” Grant continued, “to become an informal…well, I guess you’d call it a SWAT team. We spent the day auditioning for Rich, Dan, and Ryan and we passed their test. We are at your service.” The crowd liked that and a few clapped.

“Rich and others will be overseeing us,” Grant said. “We will treat everyone well—except people trying to steal and hurt you. Some of you have met the guys, and I encourage those of you who haven’t to say hi to them after the meeting. We’ll be staying to answer any questions you have.”

Grant realized he hadn’t actually told people the guys’ names, so he introduced them, starting with Pow. Last was Chip. “Chip will be assisting us, but he thinks he’s a little old to be knocking down doors and shooting druggies.”

Some people laughed. Some didn’t. Grant realized that the “shooting druggies” thing was probably a little too much reality for some of them.

Rich said, “I want to emphasize that these guys are under my command. In the unlikely event there is a problem with them or anyone else, you can talk to me or Ryan or Dan. We encourage it, but don’t think it will be necessary. Any questions?”

A yuppie looking guy raised his hand. He was obviously a “cabin person.”

“Why do we need armed men out here? I mean, they’re not police officers or anything. They have no real training. Why should we let them run around and,” he used his fingers to mockingly make air quotes, “‘enforce the law’?”

It was silent. Many others must have been thinking that same thing.

Rich motioned to Grant that he would answer it.

“A fair question,” Rich said. “The short answer is that there is no law right now. Stores are running out of food and everything else. What do you think is likely to happen?”

The yuppie looked annoyed that he had to even answer that question. “What I don’t think should happen is a little dictatorship out here with weekend commandos running around with guns telling us what to do. That’s what I think.”

This man is a threat. Fight him.

Grant heard that loud and clear. Polite and political Grant disappeared and fighting Grant appeared. He felt a surge of adrenaline as he went into verbal battle.