One Year After: A Novel (6 page)

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Authors: William R. Forstchen

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Thriller

BOOK: One Year After: A Novel
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“If my administrative assistant had clearly understood who was calling, she most certainly would have scheduled you in. Please accept my apologies for the confusion. Let’s go into my office and see what I can do for you.”

He led the way, graciously helping Makala to take a seat and offering water, which both Makala and John accepted. To John’s utter disbelief, the water was freezing cold.

“Oh, that?” Dale replied with a chuckle. “Indeed a luxury, I realize. We have an old-fashioned water cooler. I know it’s a bit of an excess, but on some of these hot days, it means a lot for staff morale.”

“Did I feel air-conditioning when we came in?” Makala asked innocently. “It really did feel wonderful.”

“We turn it on for a few minutes each day,” Dale said.

“Oh, how wonderful,” Makala whispered, and then she set her glass down after only one sip.

There was a moment of nervous silence, and Dale cleared his throat, pale eyes fixed on John. “I think I can guess why you came here today, but why don’t you open the discussion? But I have to warn you, I’m really tied up today, so we’ll have to keep it fairly short for now.”

John pulled Elizabeth’s draft notice out of his pocket and put it on the table. Before he could speak, Dale leaned over, took it, and held it up.

“Your daughter?” he asked.

“For starters, yes.”

Dale smiled disarmingly. “Well, in that case, I know I can work an arrangement for you. We’ll figure out some sort of deferment.”

John now actually did sit up straighter, and Makala gently reached over and put a light restraining hand on his arm.

“I didn’t come here to just plead for my daughter, sir.”

Dale’s features clouded for a second, and his gaze dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry. Forgive me, sir,” Dale replied hastily. “You see, these notices started going out a couple of weeks back. Mail to your town was a bit delayed, so it only went out there with this morning’s delivery from our post office. It’s why I’m in semi-hiding at the moment,” he said with a rueful chuckle. “I’ve got parents, wives, husbands, kids all pleading for deferments. I actually had a mother try to bribe me yesterday with a pie that had a silver dollar stuck in it. So please excuse me if I misspoke. I know an honorable man such as you would not come here just to ask for special treatment for a member of his family.”

John nodded, even feeling a touch of understanding. Across the last two years, he had presided over many a hard decision, the most dreadful of them executions, first starting with the two young men who had stolen medications from the nursing home. He never regretted or second-thought the decisions once made, affirming to himself that in taking one life, he had spared others anguish and deterred a descent into anarchy. Nevertheless, the appeals of loved ones and having to firmly say no could be grueling. And attempts at bribes ranged from what could just be called a friendly neighborly gesture of some rations or a bottle of bootleg moonshine appearing on his doorstep with a friendly note attached to outright criminal threats.

“Thus the reaction of the guards outside the building when we first came in,” Makala ventured.

“Ah yes, regrettable but necessary,” Dale replied. “Otherwise, that foyer out there would be swamped. Apologies if it seemed rude.”

“I understand, but I would suggest that your man out there gets a little training in proper procedure and some basic manners.”

“I’ll have a talk with him, John,” Dale said with an apologetic smile, brushing an errant lock of hair back from his forehead. “So how can I help you?”

“I’m here on behalf of many of the citizens of Black Mountain, Montreat, and Swannanoa,” John said. “It is not just about my daughter.”

“I see,” Dale replied, leaning back in his swivel chair, bringing his fingertips together and resting his chin on them. “Many of the citizens, you say?”

“I didn’t speak to everyone who got the notices this morning, but I daresay yes, it will be the majority. Our first question: just what is this all about? We hear nothing from the federal government for a year. After the worst of the crisis is over, an army battalion shows up, but then they are pulled out—and now these notices of draft into this new organization, this ANR. I have an understanding of the need to create a centralized force to restore this nation, but on the other side of the coin, these notices were a shock that hit without warning. I’ll also add that nearly all of those being drafted are citizens crucial to my community, not just for protection but also for food production and our first steps at rebuilding. It comes as a tough blow.”

Dale stood up and sighed. He walked about behind his desk for a moment and then pointed to an old map of the United States on the wall behind his desk. “The federal government is reconstituting at last,” Dale announced, and he nodded toward the map. The gesture seemed a bit ham-handed to John, a professor for many years, but he could sense that Dale was nervous and building a case, so he did not show anything other than a forced expression of interest.

“The situation overseas, though unstable, is at least for the moment relatively calm. Our overseas nuclear assets survived intact, and, as you undoubtedly know, a swift and terrible retribution was rained down on North Korea and Iran. After that, secondary wars did break out, such as the conflict raging now between India and Pakistan, which we are standing clear of. There are numerous low-intensity wars raging around the globe. The only thing ensuring our security is the certain knowledge that our nuclear boomers are still out there under the seas ready with swift retaliation if there is another launch against the United States.”

“Wish we had made that message clearer before the Day,” Makala said softly, her voice filled with bitterness.

“We all do,” Dale replied.

John said nothing. Was it really Iran and Korea, or were others involved? Those were questions for which no one had a clear answer. If it had been Russia that provided technical support for the attack, they were suffering now as well because an EMP burst, which—believed by some to have been off course—had detonated over Eastern Europe rather than what many assumed was the target of Western Europe. Moscow and Saint Petersburg had ceased to exist in the months afterward, the same as every major city in America.

“But here,” Dale continued, “we are struggling to regain our national borders. The rhetoric with the so-called Chinese aid and fraternity mission is clearly transitioning into a permanent occupation force. The president has decided that we must mobilize for this national emergency, and thus the letters arrived here in Asheville shortly after my own arrival. John, I wish I had been able to establish better community relations with everyone after arriving here before these draft notices hit. All our regular military assets and the army that existed prior to the attack that have returned to the continental United States are being shifted to our southern and western borders. The new Army of National Recovery is therefore needed to help reestablish order and government control in the rest of the country. I heard how you organized the fight against a group called the Posse and soundly defeated them. John, there are still scores of Posse-like groups wandering the countryside, some of them in our own backyard, such as these so-called reiver groups harassing law-abiding communities like yours.

“I tell you…” He sighed, sitting back down in his chair, taking a long drink of cold water, and then setting the glass down. “This was not what I thought my job would be when I first got here. I thought it would be to help network communities together, stitch back the fabric of our society, getting us working again as a single team as we did in the old days, and our flag would again represent a real working nation and not just a memory. It was a shock to me when orders came down to mobilize several thousand out of my district for national service and that my first job was to be the bearer of these tidings.”

He nodded toward the draft notice resting on the desk between them, his features remorseful.

“Whoever thought this up—the selection of personnel—I assume it is not you?” John asked.

“Oh, definitely not. Most definitely not.”

“Well, whoever did is clueless about the situation here. We barely hung on by the skin of our teeth when the Posse hit us a year and a half ago. I assume you are aware of that situation?”

“I know about the fight you put up and your leadership. A masterful victory.”

“It was a bloody slaughter for both sides. If that is the definition of victory, I pray I do not have another like it. The young men and women receiving draft notices are the backbone of our own internal defense force. We’ve had a dozen incidents since with raiders, gangs of thieves, and now these reivers just on the other side of Mount Mitchell. Strip out the backbone of my command and we are defenseless.”

“Your command?” Dale asked softly.

John hesitated and then nodded. “Yes, I am commander of the local self-defense force.”

“Isn’t it perhaps time that we began to shift that a bit, to work together more as a team, bring back state and federal authority? That is the intent of the Army of National Recovery—a federally organized force to bring stability back to America nationwide. When fully in place, local communities will no longer have to fend for themselves. I would think that would actually be welcome news for you, John.”

John was silent with that. Of course that was an ideal. But how could they make it a working, functional ideal?

“When I can see and feel clearly that such is the case and that our local security is firmly in place, maybe then I’d feel more comfortable with so many of my community’s personnel being pulled out for duty elsewhere.”

“The times are no longer Fort Apache on the frontier or medieval barons holed up in their castles,” Dale replied. “It is time to bring back a broader authority and stability.”

“But stripping out the core of the strength of my community now? I’d like to see something else in place first.”

“In fact, you’re about to see that, John. I have assets reporting in this weekend that I think you’ll find to be rather impressive and definitely reassuring. I wish they had come in first before the draft notices went out. Their presence would have alleviated your concerns about defense of your community in the future.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve been promised some air support, for starters.”

“Air?”

“Not for public consumption, so keep that under your hat for now. For some folks here, I’d prefer it to be a surprise, if you know what I mean.”

“Air support from where? Nearly everything stateside was fried by the EMP.”

“Again, not allowed to discuss that. Let’s just say some overseas equipment is finally making its way back here. The government decided some of it can be spared as needed by local administrative areas. I put in a strong request. So even as your personnel head off for training, I’ll have some darn good backup in place for your community and this entire region. Is that fair enough?”

“We’ll see, but there is a second question just as burning. Just where in the hell are these kids going to serve with this ANR?”

“Ours not to reason why,” Dale said softly.

“‘Theirs but to do and die’?” Makala interjected.

Dale looked at her a bit taken aback, and John realized that Dale did not know the line from the ironic poem.

“Tennyson describing the disaster of the Charge of the Light Brigade in a long-ago war,” Makala said. “That is not a fate for any of the young men and women of our town.”

“I spoke too flippantly; forgive me,” Dale replied. “John—” He hesitated and then nodded to Makala. “And you too, ma’am—I have no idea as to where your daughter will be assigned. This is a national mobilization, a million strong. We need to constitute an army within our own continent. Most of our military based here in the States when all this started was as decimated as the civilian population. We have, at best, a few hundred thousand under arms within our borders. We have to secure our borders, hopefully just by a show of will.”

“Why not just federalize the National Guard?” John asked.

“Good question, John. That was seriously discussed, but it was quickly realized it would be all but impossible. The high casualty rate within the United States decimated Guard members the same as everyone else. Databases have been lost, and there isn’t a single state government that is running efficiently enough to coordinate bringing Guard units into national service. It was realized we needed to start from scratch again—and thus the Army of National Recovery. This force, once created, will not even have to fight other than containing lawlessness in some regions. Once our borders are resecured, the military can return to its mission of stabilizing places still in chaos. When that happens, the ANR stands down, and all your sons and daughters will be back home by Christmas.”

“I seem to recall that kind of promise at the start of nearly every war,” Makala replied coolly. “‘They’ll be home by Christmas.’ That is most reassuring.”

There appeared to be a glint of anger in Dale’s eyes, even though he held his smile without flinching. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, standing up, clearly indicating the meeting was drawing to a close. “I can at least do this, but for heaven’s sake, don’t let anyone outside your community know this. The notices said to report here in three days. Let’s just say that was a misprint, and it is thirty days hence. That will give me time to file your concerns back to Bluemont and give you a chance to see that I am a man of my word when it comes to the fact that I promise we’ll have a region-wide defense force in place to cover for communities such as yours so that you no longer need your small, independent commands—and I’ll see if I can better clarify terms of service. Is that fair for right now?”

John hesitated but then finally nodded in agreement. He looked over to Makala, who smiled, nodded as well, and actually said, “Thank you, sir.”

“Good, then that’s settled. Now you must excuse me; I am swamped, which I think you can understand. Get back to your people, calm things down, and we’ll be in touch and see what can be done, let’s say in a week or so. Does that work for you?”

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