Crashed: The Death Of The Dollar (7 page)

Stacy grabbed his shoulder from behind. "I agree. Think about it."

Mike looked down at Brad sitting there soaking up every word. He looked back up, and gave Mike their nod.

"Oh, so you're against me too huh?" Mike said to him with a hint of humor in his voice.

"Excuse me, Mr. Paine," Susan wanted to get her two cents in. "I'm fifty-seven years old, and in my fifty-seven years, I've never seen a name bring hope to people's faces like yours does. Even without seeing your strong and imposing stature, just your voice conveys power and authority. A word from you, and people will listen. An idea from you, and everyone will listen. Please, give this some thought."

Mike started to walk away. He really didn't want to talk anymore. "Mr. Paine, there's still more I think you should know about," the Bishop added.

"Damn! What!?" Mike said loudly.

"There's a lot of talk about actively fighting back. And I know you don't want to hear it, but it's inspired by the rumors about you."

"No!" insisted Mike. "We can't provide enough food for people to fight back against the hand that feeds them, and right now that hand is the federal government. They fight back, those who aren't killed by the biggest and best armed police and military force on the planet will die of starvation. No!"

"Well, that's not entirely true, sir," the Bishop knew he was pushing the wrong buttons, but he felt he had to finish. "John Otis, from Cedar City, came to see me a few days ago. Someone told him that I was the contact to you."

"Shit! You're supposedly trustworthy friends are going to get me killed!" Mike interrupted.

"He said that he was working with all the regional farmers. John's got thousands of acres around Cedar, Enoch, and Parowan. He said the Holder Family was on board too, and they've got huge farms around Newcastle and Beryl that supply grain and milk. According to him, they got together with several big farms as far north as Beaver. When the crash first happened, they all moved and hid a lot of their herds in the mountains. At first they were concerned about mobs from the bigger cities traveling to this area to steal food. But then they kept them hidden because the government was stealing from them. They've agreed that if we're – you're - able to lead a resistance and win, they can feed everyone along I-15 from Beaver to Mesquite, and still have some left over for trade."

"It's not going to happen!" Mike said firmly as he walked away.

It was a longer drive than normal for him getting back home. He felt like the weight of the world had just been placed on his shoulders, and he wasn't happy about it.

Mike was quiet and withdrawn the rest of the day. He scanned the radio channels at the top of every hour, finding multiple broadcasts every time. Not much news that he hadn't just been made aware of, but he knew this was going to become a regular routine for him from now on.

"Are you going to be okay?" Taylor asked him. Jessica and Stacy had filled her in on all that the Bishop had to say.

"Eventually. I hope I haven't taken my bad mood out on any of you," he said.

"Nope. You're fine. We all understand. We rocked your world moving up here. It got rocked even more after the collapse. Now you've found out that Jess is pregnant, then had city folks ask you to shake up life even more, all in barely more than twenty-four hours. Just know that we all love you, and we'll be proud of you no matter what you decide."

She sat in Mike's lap and hugged him. They sat there silent for quite a while when he noticed it was time to scan the radio again. He reached over to pick up the radio, and found a broadcast almost immediately.

"Okay listeners,"
the voice said.
"We've got some new news for everyone. Word is that riots broke out in Los Angeles a few hours ago. There are apparently hundreds, if not thousands, of homes and businesses burning. The Guard has merged with LAPD to suppress the violence, but so far the more they try to stop it, the more it grows."

"Jess! Stacy! Come out here," Taylor yelled.

Stacy came out and said "Jess fell asleep with Brad. What's going on?"

"Hush! Listen," Mike said abruptly.

The voice on the radio continued.
"We're hearing similar reports out of several major cities. Phoenix, Chicago, Memphis, Atlanta, Miami, and all along the northern east coast. All state and local police forces, as well as several federal police divisions, are being merged with the Guard. There are also rumors that many in the military are starting to abandon their posts. This doesn't appear to be too widespread yet, but it seems that those who intended to protect our freedom aren't willing to follow orders to oppress our freedoms. Signing off now before they track me down. Until tomorrow!"

Taylor rested her head on Mike's shoulder. "This is all getting so crazy. You were right Mike, civil war is next."

"You said that?" Stacy asked.

He sighed. "Yes, I think I did."

"Look, don't get mad at me, but it seems to me that someone who knew this was all going to happen years ahead of time, and knew the steps that it would progress through, needs to be the voice people can follow to navigate their way through this mess." Stacy leaned over and kissed them both on the forehead. "I'm going to bed. You two don't stay out here much longer. I don't want you getting sick in this cold."

They sat for another thirty minutes in the cold and dark silence of the night. Eventually, Taylor got up, took Mike by the hand, and insisted he come to bed. "Leave it be for tonight. Any new news you sleep though will still be making news in the morning. Come on."

The next morning Mike woke up early and tried to slide himself out of bed gently so as not to wake Taylor. He got dressed in his long johns with a heavy coat, knowing it was very cold outside. With the faint moonlight to guide his way, he walked up to the mountain top to sit and try to make sense of what his life had become, and the situation at hand. He sat down against his antenna tower, the sound of his wind generator blades spinning overpowering everything else in a strangely peaceful manner.

About two hours later, Jessica came up to check on him. It was still freezing cold, but the sun had started to bring first light over the distant horizon. She had a mug of hot mint tea to help warm his body, and sat down with him.

"How in the world did I get here?" he asked.

"If you're talking about walking up here to freeze to death, then I might need to worry about how the cold is effecting your brain," she replied sarcastically, hoping to lighten his mood.

"You know what I mean," he returned. "Eleven years ago I moved up here to leave society in my past. I only saw other people a handful of times per year. I had never really carried on a meaningful conversation in my life, and was content to never have to. I'd never felt love, received or given. I was just going to live the 'Jeremiah Johnson' life until I died unnoticed."

Jessica just sat and listened, to let him unburden his mind.

"Now look at me. I'm kind of a dad to a great kid. I've got another kid on the way... with one of
two
women I'm sleeping with."

"Two?" Jessica said curiously. "What about Tayl -"

"NO, no, no, no, no," he interrupted her.

"Really? Huh. But she sleeps in there with you as much as Stacy does," she inquired. "Little old me just gets leftovers once a week or so," she continued with a fake pouty face and a giggle.

"No, when Taylor sleeps in my room, it's just that. Sleep. She'll cuddle up with me and we're both out like a light in no time. I just kinda of go with the flow and let y'all decide whatever. You don't feel left out do you?"

"Nah. I like the sex, but it's just not a big deal to me. I know what we have is something different. Something deeper. I mean, I'm the one you opened up to about your past and everything. I'll always be your first kiss." She continued half jokingly, "And I'm the one with icicles on my tits listening to you complain about getting to sleep with two women." He grinned and she laughed. "As weird as it is, I just understand you. And when I'm too old to want it, and you're too old to give it, I know we'll still have something special."

"It's just all still weird to me," he said.

"Well," she jokingly added, "would it make you feel any better if I told you you weren't the first man we've ever shared?" She watched him roll his eyes and smirk. She was intent on cheering him up, and it seemed to be working. "Of course, you're the only man who's ever not paid a small fortune per hour for that. The first we both fell in love with. And you're the only one who we both want to spend our lives growing old with. And besides, we're two hot, vivacious women, and you're the only man for a hundred miles," she said, laughing again at her last wise crack.

"So anyways," he tried to change the subject. "Now I'm somehow supposed to help lead the way to destroying order and restoring the chaos of freedom? Me? A hermit who escaped society, is somehow the one people look to for hope. And it's not even the real me. I still can't find the words to tell any of you how I feel about you, yet I'm being asked to find the words to inspire the masses?"

"Mike, we know how you feel. I know Stacy wishes you would say it. But for me, and Brad, well, we know it by your actions. And actions always speak louder than words. Taylor just wants you to be you. Her big teddy bear.”

They sat quietly together watching the sunrise for a while before Jessica broke the silence. "Well, you know you're going to do this. So are you ready to stop trying to get pneumonia first and get started."

"How do you know I'm going to do this?" he replied, knowing she was right.

"Because, you're that man who just does the right thing. Whether it's taking firewood to some intruding whores, or delivering food to a man so irritatingly happy even Mr. Rogers would want to slap him. You always do the right thing." She got up and held her hand out to him to help him up.

"I think my leg's froze solid," he joked as he tried to get up.

"Come on, Mike. Let's get over here into your secret bat-cave and get you started."

They walked down the hill and into the cave. The warmth of the cave was a very welcome relief. Not that it was really all that warm inside there either, but after an hour for her, and three hours in the below freezing wind for him, it was a very pleasant change.

He stood at his base station and turned it on. "I don't even know where to start. What to say," he said, looking at her. She was taking off her coat and sweater. Then she slid off her boots.

"Why don't you start back here," she said, opening the hidden door. "Let's finish getting your mind cleared, and your body warmed up first." She bit her lip as she turned from him and walked towards the bunk room.

"Um, yeah. I like that idea," he said, following her.

A little while later, Mike was sitting at the base station, going over the computer controls to refresh himself on using his equipment. Jessica was warming up some canned soup on a camp stove he kept in the supply room. She sat quietly and supportively as he started trying to record his own voice. She didn't understand why he wouldn't just send out a broadcast, but knew he had to do this how he felt was best.

"Thomas Paine Radio," he said into his microphone. After a long pause, he spoke again.

"Live, with Thomas Paine." Again a long pause.

"The Freedom Show, with Thomas Paine."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I dunno. Trying to come up with a good intro recording to start each broadcast," he said.

"Just stick with the first one. It's simple, and not too cheesy."

"Um, okay." He was hesitant, but trusted her, and didn't have any other ideas himself anyways.

"Hello, listeners, I'm Thomas Pai..."

"Welcome to the first broadca...."

"Dammit."

"Calm down, Mike," she told him as she grabbed the sides of his face. "Close your eyes. Take a deep breath." She hesitated briefly, then kissed his forehead. "Now, be yourself. No bullshit. Just get to the point."

"Tensions are high," he began. "And they should be. A couple of months ago, a collection of complex events outside of all of our control thrust us all into a new way of living. And for many of us, we've come to see life as 'us against the government.' We're wrong to look at it like that. The residents of our small towns, and big cities alike, look at the guardsmen and soldiers as the government. We look at that camouflage uniform, and we see someone with freedom, who's taking our freedom away. But that man holding his government-issued gun is no more free than anyone else. He's told what to wear, what to eat, when to eat, and who to hurt. He's an individual, just as deserving of freedom as any man, woman or child.