Overthrown the Death of America...Book Two

OH NO!!! He's at it again!!! They say that poets who read their own works in public usually have other bad habits as well. Well, I'm giving writing another shot. Now, I'm a hunt and peck typist. Which means this story (which at this point remains untitled) is a work in progress. Please bare with me. And again, I would like to ask for any comments or questions be placed on a seperate thread, or simply use the old one. If you missed the first story, it is here.

http://www.timebomb2000.com/vb/showthread.php?t=298687

Overthrown, the Death of America

Book Two

Ashley did all she could to look like everyone else. She shuffled along with her head hung down, barely lifting her feet off the sidewalk as she pulled a small child's wagon along behind her. She only raised her head once in a while to make sure she was going the right way, and then hung her head again pretending to be as weak and tired as everyone else was. In the wagon was what she could get in the way of this week’s allotment of food from the disbursement center. It had been placed in a metal cage that had been securely locked and bolted to the wagon.

She knew she was taking a chance by going to the center by herself. There had been many reports of people being mugged for whatever food they had, not far from there. The authorities were convinced that the robberies were planned and committed by a group of young people, probably gang members. Ever since the shortages had started to get bad, people everywhere started losing weight. Not by choice, but because there simply wasn't enough food for them to eat like they used to eat. Anyone who even looked overweight was viewed with suspicion, and they were often the subjects of the attacks. However with the number of people coming to the center on distribution days from every conceivable direction, it was impossible for law enforcement to provide protection for them all. The thieves knew that and took full advantage of it. Sometimes, the person under attack would fight back to keep what they had. When they did, things usually ended badly for them. They were certainly hurt and in some cases, people had been killed. All for the food. Neighborhoods had started getting to gether in groups and travel to the centers together for mutual protection. The problem with that was that the people working at the center would see them coming, and begin to put things in the back rooms, so there would be at least something for as many people as possible.

The massive earthquakes that had devastated the entire west coast had done much to create this situation. One of the worst things that had happened was when Hoover Dam had failed. Anything even near the Colorado River downstream of the dam either was not there anymore, or if it had high enough above the water to have survived the flooding, was damaged beyond repair. Many of them made that way by the people who lived through the disaster, searching for whatever they could find to eat, drink, or just to keep warm at night. But it was after rescue operations started that things turned ugly. Without electricity to keep or prepare their food, most people were very hungry in a short period of time. Only those who happened to have a vehicle and the fuel on hand to make a journey to some place that would have power ever managed to get out of a major portion of the southwestern part of the country. Many of them had to either fight to keep their vehicles, if they were foolish enough to stop to see if they could help someone, or simply by passed anyone they saw. In some cases that included running over anyone who didn’t get out of the way. For the majority that remained, all soon became chaos. The social services that so many had counted on being there to help them in times of trouble, had suffered as badly as everyone else. The roads, for rescue vehicles and personnel were just as absent since they, along with everything else had been washed away.

Without the power that had been provided by the dam, most rescue operations soon became fly-over’s to see if anything moved and then send in people on foot or on horseback to see what could be done. It was after two or three rescue workers had been assaulted, and their horses killed, cooked and eaten that governmental agencies really got their first idea as to the scope of the problem. Every truck and trailer of any size that could be used to get relief supplies to the southwestern part of the country was mobilized for that purpose. While well intentioned, it was a failed effort in most cases. Truckers going into the area had to make their way through unbelievable amounts of all kinds of traffic and trouble to get there. Roads leading into the area were choked with cars, animal drawn wagons, and people on foot near the outer edges of the earthquake zone. Even here, outside the disaster area, if the truckers stopped, the crowds of refugees would descend on the trucks and strip them bare in minutes. After the first few times, armed escorts were required, which helped but didn’t completely eliminate the threat. It seemed as if everyone from Arizona to California and from Mexico to the Oregon border were headed someplace else. It wasn’t possible to care for them all, and the more ruthless soon began to prey on the weaker people.

But even that hadn’t done it all. A monstrous hurricane had all but washed major portions of the fertile southeastern part of the country out to sea. No less than six hurricanes had combined into one storm and made straight for the coast near the Florida/Georgia state line. Its winds reached well over two hundred miles an hour. It was doubtful that there were many buildings left standing anywhere within fifty miles of the coast. There had been no news of anything south of Tallahassee, Florida in a few months now. Farm lands once rich and abundant with crops had been blown to bits, or submerged in the water left over from the storm. They would spend years trying to rebuilt, and no crops in any meaningful amounts would be coming from down there for some time after that.

Yes, everyone was quite underfed, and very tired because of it. And she worried if people were beginning to notice that she wasn’t as underfed as the rest of them. That was why she now had to make the risky solo trip to the disbursement center. Some of the people still living in her area were beginning to notice it seemed to her.

"Ashley. You're looking well."

A voice seemed to come from behind her. She was sure she recognized it, and Ashley almost cringed at the words. It was true, she did look healthy and fit, and that was the last thing she wanted. Before everything had gotten so bad, she had to admit she had been a bit overweight. Back then, she would have considered such words to be a compliment. So when the shortages started, nobody thought a thing about her looking heavier than those around her. She had more to lose to start with. Now, overweight people were a thing of the past. Yet even though she was smaller than she had been since she was a teenager, she still had that appearance of being well fed. That was why she had started to go to the center alone. Too many people had too many questions. Maybe now her dishonesty was finally going to catch up with her. She stopped her shuffling walk, and looked to see who had spoken.

"What? Did someone say something to me?" She spoke pretending as if she could barely get the words out.

"Ashley. It's me. Brett, from high school. Don't you remember me?"

She remembered him well enough. Brett was one of those kids you could never really trust. He had always been secretive. And while there had never been any proof, it had been said that he was one of the ones who would snitch on the other kids in school and get them into trouble. Especially if it meant that he got out of whatever trouble he might have been in, or as long as there was some kind of profit to him. She had no idea that he was in town again, and really didn't want to be seen with him.

"Oh. Hi Brett. I didn't see you standing there."

"No surprise. I was watching you come down the street, and was wondering if that was you. I never saw you lift your head, so I wasn't sure. You certainly have taken off a few pounds, I must say. And all in the right places too."

Again, Ashley thought how not so long ago those words would have made her smile. Now they made her suspicious. What did Brett see that she didn't want him to see? The weather was windy and a bit cool, so she had worn a heavy looking coat to hide her fitness. Did he see through her disguise?

"Well, we all have lost some lately. In case you didn't notice." Ashley really looked at him for the first time. She noticed that he too looked like he was feeling well, and the fullness of his cheeks told her that he was eating as well as she had been. That could mean a lot of things, or nothing. She was unsure of what to think.

"That's true. But, I don't know. You just seem to be handling everything better than most. Do you have a lower metabolism or something?"

"No, it's not that. I just had more to lose, that's all. It's been a while since high school. Before all of this, I had put on a few more pounds than I had when we last saw each other." Ashley lied to him. In fact she had already been working hard to lose weight before everything had happened. But since they hadn't seen each other in a few years, she hoped the lie would pass as truth.

"You must have put on more than a few, because you sure are looking good now. You're not like most of the other girls I've seen from school. They are all thin and tired looking. You look like you could run a marathon."

"Hardly. I'm too tired for that, and I never liked running in the first place." The subject was beginning to become too uncomfortable for Ashley, so she changed the subject slightly. "What about you? You certainly don't seem the worst for wear."

"Who? Me? Oh, I've been doing all right. I've got a job that makes sure I don't get shorted at the distribution centers." He smiled at her. "Yeah, things have worked out pretty well for me. Looks like you must be doing fairly well. Judging by that wagon you must have a boyfriend over there at the center. It seems like he might have overloaded you a bit." He pointed at the food in the wagon.

"Not really." She showed him her disbursement card. "As you can see, I am caring for my Grandmother. That's why it looks that full."

She knew that most people wouldn't even bother to look at her card. Nobody cared how much you were allowed to get, they just didn't want you to take more than your own share. Brett leaned over and studied the card carefully for a moment. Then he stood up straight and spoke again.

"I remember her. How's she doing these days?"

"She doesn't get around much anymore. Especially since things started to get violent. She's too scared to leave the house. So I end up doing all of the outside things, like going to the disbursement center."

As lies went, this was only a minor one. Ashley had indeed been assigned the task of caring for her aged grandmother by the government, since her parents were dead. She had simply, and conveniently, forgotten to inform the authorities when the old woman had passed away six months ago. She had known the time was coming before it got there. Her grandmother had slowly faded away instead of dying suddenly. Ashley had been given the time to prepare for the event. Both women knew she was dying and there was nothing that could be done about it. She had buried her grandmother in the basement of her home, and continued to collect the disbursement allotments for the both of them by their mutual agreement ahead of time. She used the excuse of her grandmother’s age and health as a reason for the elder woman not showing up at the center. Since the two of them had been coming in for some time before that, they knew them and easily believed the story. Now, not being half starved like everyone else was was the reason she looked so well.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe I should come over and see if I can help out a little bit." He sounded so sincere. And he did seem to be attracted to her. That was something that hadn't happened very often before. But she couldn't take the chance. He had stared at the disbursement card. What was he looking for?

"I'm sorry. That's not a good idea. Gram is kind of out of it. I'm the only one she remembers anymore. Everyone else scares her." She hoped the story worked. Then before he could come up with another reason to keep her for more conversation she spoke again. "Speaking of Gram, I need to be going, Brett. If you'll excuse me."

With that short announcement, she turned and started to shuffle away as fast as she dared go. She wanted to abandon the wagon and run. In truth, she could have. She knew that within a few feet was the door to a still open store with customers in it. Since times had become harder, the hardware stores showed a brisk increase in business as more and more people learned to do things they had never dreamed possible before. It was one such store she thought about diving into to lose Brett, by heading out the back door before he could reach her. She thought about it. In the end she decided not to run. She had given him believable excuses. So there was no need to run. That would certainly cause him to give chase, and he knew where she lived.

Still as she passed a long abandoned car on the street, she glanced down into the reflection in the windshield of what was going on behind her. She saw him continuing to watch her move down the street. It made her uneasy, but she had already made her choice, now she had continue on. Her mind was swarming with thoughts about what would happen next. Brett had to be working with the government. Why else would he show up after being away so long? Why else would he be so interested in her card? If he wasn't working for the government, why was he so interested in her grandmother? These thoughts and more went around and around in her mind. They stayed with her until she reached the corner and started to turn towards her home. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked again. Brett was nowhere to be seen, but she still had the feeling she was being watched.

Once around the corner, Ashley began to calm herself. After all, she reasoned, if anyone was interested in what she was doing, she already had excuses and even faked 'proof' of her innocence should people start asking questions. As she continued to slowly make her way home, she considered her run in with Brett. It was bad enough that having neighbors ask questions she didn't want to answer. But when someone like Brett came along, that was different. He hadn't seen her in a long time, and even he noticed right away that she seemed to be healthier than others. To her it meant that the time of her excuses of being too heavy to begin with was rapidly coming to an end. She needed another way to avoid being noticed. That was how the government found out about hoarders. People noticed something different about their neighbors and turned them in anonymously, for a hoped for share in whatever things the hoarders had hidden away. If she was starting to look that obvious, it was time to change her tactics.

She walked up onto the ramp that had been put in by her father shortly before his death, and moved to the bars that were tightly secured over the front door. After unlocking and opening them, she also unlocked the heavy gage metal front door on the house. She pulled the little wagon inside and locked the bars again, before stepping inside and locking the door behind her. Alone behind the doors, where none could see her, Ashley removed her coat and stretched her arms. It was painful to walk stoop shouldered for such a long period of time. But if she wanted to be left alone, there was nothing she could do but try to look and act like everyone else.

She first took what amount of food she had been able to get into a small neat kitchen, and put the cans and containers where they belonged. As she did so she couldn't help but think of her grandmother and how she had lived here for so many years. She had been a kind old woman. She never had a harsh word for anyone it seemed. All of the people who lived nearby used to come over for a visit on a regular basis in the old days. But not anymore. Her grandmother’s home was in a nice neighborhood. People used to care about each other. Maybe that was the reason. Most of the people in the area were elderly, and most of them had been picked up by their children months ago, so it was easier for them all to look after each other. Now many of the homes stood empty. The nearest neighbor she had was a little over a half a block away, and she hadn't gotten much further than the front yard in years. The solitude made it easy to hide her grandmothers’ death so she could continue to get the double allotment of food. Ashley didn't feel bad about getting the extra food. To her it was only just compensation for what she had suffered already.

Her parents had died about a year ago in one of the first food riots. According to the reports she had seen, their deaths had been an unfortunate accident. They called it something like 'friendly fire' and told her how her parents had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She really didn't remember much more than that. She did remember Gram wasn't buying it. She wasted no time in informing the man who had come to tell them about the deaths, that she had seen the first few seconds of video feed before the cameras were cut off. She knew how the foreign troops had waded into the crowd of protesters and began killing them. It didn't matter to them who you were. If you appeared in front of them they killed you, or beat you unconscious and left you on the ground for the next wave of troops to deal with. Gram had actually chased the man from the house. Ashley thought that was the first time she had seen Gram angry.

She picked up a glass and filled it with the water she had filtered from the tap. It used to be she would just fill the glass and drink it. But like everything else, civil services were on the way down. Half the time the water that came from the faucet was anything but clear. And most of the time it smelled bad as well. She filtered the water by pouring it into a bucket, filled with dirt and with holes punched in the bottom. By slowly pouring the water into the dirt, it would filter down and come out of the holes in the bottom. From there it drained into another bucket. This black water was then filtered through a series of plastic buckets with cloth sheets and filtering material that had come from diapers, fixed across the top. Each time the water was poured through one of the home made filters, it became a little cleaner. By the time she was done, she had relatively clean drinking water. At least she hadn't gotten sick from drinking it yet. As she walked from the kitchen into the living room she noticed again the tapestry her grandmother had sewn and hung there. She wanted to tear it down and throw it away. But Gram had made it, and it had meant a great deal to her. Ashley couldn't bring herself to get rid of it. Instead she stood there and looked at it. It was beautiful work she had to admit. About four inches high, and ten inches long, it was painstakingly hand stitched around the border and was emblazoned with the words;

'GOD WILL PROVIDE'

She thought about it. She knew what Gram would say. To her, God was right there in the middle of everything, every day and every night, everywhere and every when. Well, He sure didn't provide for her. Gram was dead, she was virtually alone in her neighborhood, and while the ever rising crime wave hadn't gotten to her yet, she knew it was a matter of time. She remembered Gram had a pistol at one time. But she didn't know if she had turned it in when the government had ordered to be. The only thing Gram would ever say when she asked about it was;
"Oh, I've taken care of that. Don't you worry about it, child."

But Gram never actually admitted to having turned it in. It made her wonder. She hadn't been to Grams’ room since she died. It was just too painful. But maybe she should go have a look. If there was something in that room, it would be better to know about before anything happened rather than after. But at the moment, her most pressing need was how to make herself look more like others. They were all weak and tired from short rations for such a long period of time. She thought to herself that if God wanted to provide for her, she needed a way out of the city. People working out in the country were able to eat better. She heard that sometimes they would actually kill a deer or something and everyone ate well for days after that. Her mouth watered at the idea. She sipped at the water and picking up a small mirror walked to the couch and sat down. Ashley looked at her face in the mirror and wondered. How could she make herself look less healthy. For that matter, how long should she take to make such a transformation? She just couldn't show up one day looking a lot different. People would notice. The changes would have to be gradual, but she still needed to get started on them right now. For the time being, she felt she could alter her looks with skillfully applied make up. The problem was that with the stores not selling things like this anymore, sooner or later she would run out of makeup. But for now, it was the best she could do.
She decided that she would start by gradually altering and increasing the cosmetics over a period of weeks, which would make her face appear to be paler. They would hide the healthy flesh tone in her skin. Then as time went by, she would apply the makeup differently so her cheeks would begin to look shallow, as if she hadn’t eaten well in a long time. That should take care of the immediate problem.
Ashley went back to the kitchen to prepare a meal. Again, she stopped to look at the tapestry. She still wondered how this so-called God had provided for her. If He was supposed to be so caring, why was she alone? Why did she have to lie and cheat just to get enough to eat? Ashley didn’t like doing that kind of thing. She had been raised to be honest, but if she was going to get what she needed, what choice did she have? Where was this God that Gram had believed in so much? She was certain she knew what Gram would say.
“Child, we can’t see what God has planned. We just have to do the best we can with whatever comes our way, and count on God for the rest.”
Gram had counted on her God, and now she was dead. A lot of good He did her. He let her die, for no good reason. She had been in good health right up until the time she had gotten sick. Then it didn’t matter how much Gram prayed about it, she just got worse, until she had died. Ashley was still angry about that. Gram had been such a lovely old woman. She had an answer to almost every problem that anyone might come across. She always had good words of advice to share with others, even if her answers were always based on her Bible. She had even had things to say about her own approaching death. Gram wasn’t afraid of dying. In fact she seemed to look forward to it.
For as long as she could, Gram had gone about her day to day business without a complaint. Often, she would softly sing or hum certain hymns and songs, as if she hadn't a care in the world. She was totally at peace with everything and everyone.

As the time of her passing came nearer, she had insisted on seeing certain of her old friends. Ones that she knew from long acquaintanceship wouldn't be going anywhere if things continued to get worse, as they seemed to be. These would be people that she knew would back up Ashley’s story about a sickly grandmother when the time came, although she didn't mention the true reason to anybody. She continued to do as much as she could for herself right up to the end. She also did as much as she could to help her granddaughter when she was gone. Before she became too ill, she had signed over her property to the girl, and taken care of all the other necessary things so that Ashley, as her sole surviving relative, would inherit whatever she had. But again, she failed to mention it to her. She wasn’t trying to hide anything from the younger woman, she simply felt it better to have everything ready for her when the time of her passing came. She felt that Ashley would already have her hands full with just trying to keep a roof over her head and food on the table.

The two of them discussed the idea of Ashley taking in some boarders to not only help make ends meet, but also to keep her from being alone. However it was Ashley who put an end to that idea.

“Gram, after you’re gone I don’t want strangers wandering around through your home. Who knows what they might be up to? I’d hate to see someone stealing any of these things you have. I mean everything in this house reminds me of you, or Mom and Dad. I couldn’t bare to see any of it just disappear.”

“Now Ashley, when I’m dead and gone home to be with The Lord, my late husband and all the other believers in heaven, I’m sure I’m not going to mind losing a few things.” She smiled at the girl. “Truthfully, I will have already lost them. I certainly won’t have a need for them anymore. If these trinkets and baubbles can buy you a little more food, or other things you might need, go ahead and sell them, trade them, or if it gets too cold, burn the furniture in the fire place. You shouldn’t fret so about it. After all, they are only things.”

“But they are YOUR things Gram. How could I sell any of it?”

“Dear heart, you’re wrong. You are my last living relative. After I’m gone they’ll be your things. Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice to be remembered, but it is better to be fed. None of these things will feed you or keep you warm on a cold night. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t forget, Gram.”

She knew that her granddaughter wouldn’t listen to her at that time, but she had also been around long enough to know how things could quickly change. She was also wise enough to know that Ashley would need both direction and help after she was gone. She had done everything she could for Ashley that she felt comfortable sharing with her. If her granddaughter knew of the secret room in the basement that her late husband had added to the house and then used to store several types of weapons and ammunition for them, along with many other needful things, such as cold weather clothing, she might just think that Gram was in need of mental help. Most people didn’t see the need to keep even a single firearm around the home. It was a nice neighborhood, and one that was frequently patrolled by either the police, or private security firms.

However her husband had been to Europe in the Second World War. He had seen firsthand what happened when people of a nation allowed themselves to be disarmed, and swore that with Gods’ help it wouldn’t be like that with his family. The two of them had talked about it early on after he had come back from the war. He had explained many of the things he had seen to her and his reasons why he felt the need to keep weapons around the home. Having grown up in the roaring twenties, and lived through the Great Depression of the thirties, she not only knew he was right, but did everything she could to help him first make the room, and then to stock it. They had kept the room a secret, and made sure that everything in the room was kept up to date with the latest technological advancements. Revolvers were replaced by semi-auto pistols. Medicines were rotated to make sure whatever was available when it was needed would still be effective. But to her, the single most important thing in the room was the case of Bibles kept near the door. She and her husband both knew the time would come that mere possession of a single Bible would be against the law. So they had prepared against that day.

That would, she hoped, give Ashley the direction that she would need in the future. Gram had also spent many hours in prayer over the girl, seeking divine guidance and protection. As the end began to get so close it was obvious she wouldn’t be around much longer, she had written about all of this in a letter to Ashley, to be opened after her death. The letter had been placed in the night stand next to her bed. But even now, months after Grams’ passing, Ashley knew nothing of it, since she hadn’t been up to the bedroom since then.

Ashley stopped looking at the tapestry and went into the kitchen to prepare her evening meal. After cooking a small piece of meat, a couple of equally small potatoes and canned corn, she was ready to eat when she heard a strange noise, and the electrical power went out. Figuring that a transformer had gone out, she lighted a candle and sat down to her simple meal.

Without the distraction of the normal sounds to get in the way, Ashley heard something else. She heard voices. They sounded either angry or excited, she couldn’t really tell which. She also heard something that she hadn’t heard in weeks. She heard the sound of a car engine. Moving to the window, she opened the blinds just enough to peek outside to find out what was going on. It hadn’t quite yet gotten completely dark, and she saw a number of you men, and even a couple of girls, walking down the street from the far end of the block. Dressed like what she thought of as hoodlums, they were clearly not out for an evening stroll. It looked like they had already broken into one or two of the homes on the street, and were looting them. Anything taken was hurriedly put into the car they had and the looters then moved on to the next home.

Ashley was panicked. When those people made it this far, she knew she would be in serious trouble. Out of instinct she later thought, Ashley ran to the only place she felt safe. Grams bedroom. She had spent many hours with Gram there, and as she closed and locked the door behind her, she knew it wouldn’t hold up for long if the looters decided to break in. That is when she discovered something she had never seen before. While Gram was alive, the door to the room was always open. Now, as she was looking at the closed door, she noticed a panel of some sort on the wall behind the door. It had two buttons on it and each was clearly marked. One said ‘Push to close’ and the other said ‘Push to Open’. With a mixture of both curiosity and fear, Ashley felt that anything she could possibly put between herself and those people was a good idea. She reached out and pushed the ‘Close’ button. Suddenly there was an alarm sounding in the room with her, and steel shutters slid smoothly into place over the bedroom windows, and another slid across the bedroom door. The mechanism was powered by batteries in the secret room downstairs.

It took a few moments for Ashley to figure out that this bedroom was what people called a ‘Panic Room’. While normal in appearance, the floor, walls, and ceiling were actually steel re-enforced concrete. The metal panels covering the windows and door were one half inch thick and securely mounted in the thick walls. It would almost take explosives to open the room once it was sealed. Once she realized what had happened, Ashley backed away from the door, until she bumped into Grams bed. She sat down and forced herself to regain so measure of calm and tried to think of what to do next. She knew that it would be unsafe to leave the room until she was certain that the looters had left the area. But she also knew that might take some time. The police were over stretched as it was. Crime had been having such an upswing since the troubles had started, and there were only so many officers to deal with it. Yet the number of criminals seemed to grow by leaps and bounds at times. She knew she was stuck in the ‘panic room’ for the time being, so she decided that this was the time to go over the room, and see if Gram had actually gotten rid of the pistol she had had. Besides, if this was a ‘panic room’ then there would be food, water, and a means of going to the bathroom somewhere in there. She needed to find those things.

Ashley began to search the room. Looking under the bed, she found only Grams' slippers. Then she went to the closet. She found her grandmothers clothing hanging and the usual assortment of items on the shelf above them. She couldn't believe that Gram or her grandfather would have a room like this without making preparations for a potentially long stay. There simply had to be food and water in the room somewhere. It seemed that wherever she looked, the room and its' contents were perfectly normal. Not the kind of things that would help her to survive for very long. The more she looked, the more disappointing the results became. Finally, after having gone over everything she could find in the room, she turned to the night stand next to Grams' bed. Opening the drawer and she first found the loaded revolver she had been wondering about. Under that there was an envelope with her name on it. She opened the envelope and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper covered with Grams' fine hand writing. She was amazed that Gram had taken the time to write something to her when they had spent so much time together before her death. Why didn't she just tell her what she wanted Ashley to know? She began to read.

"My Darling Ashley,

Since you are reading this, I am already home with The Lord. I want you to know that I have and continue at this time, to pray for you, but that isn't the reason you are reading this. There are things that I haven't told you about this house. I suppose I should start with this room.

I hope you never have to use it, but this is my safe room. The walls, floor and ceiling are all reinforced concrete. There are also metal shutters that will cover the door and windows when you push the button marked for that purpose, which is on the wall behind the bedroom door. The other button will open the shutters and allow you to leave at will. Should you have to use this room for its designed purpose an alarm will go off when you push the button to warn you the shutters are closing. It will turn off once they have closed. Do not try to stop them from shutting. There is no kind of safety involved with the system. It is supposed that if you want the room sealed, you are already inside and anyone trying to get to you will look better with missing fingers, hands, or even heads if they get in the way. And the system can't tell the difference between someone trying to get in, or someone trying to get out. The shutters will close anyway. Be careful.

If you will grab the headboard of my bed and pull it first outward, and then down, you will find more buttons. They are all clearly marked for whatever purpose they serve. For example the one marked ‘Police’ will automatically call 911 and alert the police to your need for help. There is another marked ‘Food’. Pushing that one will open a panel on the far side of this room with enough precooked food to last a single person at least three weeks. Though I confess, it isn't the best tasting food, but it will keep you alive. Water you can get from the bathroom and another button will open a panel which will give you access to a small electrical range top for heating the food or even making tea or coffee if you prefer. Both are stocked in the food locker. There is also a small hand pump under the sink in the bath that you can use to get water should the power be out for any reason. So about the only thing you can't do in here is wash your clothes, though I suppose you could do them by hand and dry them on the shower curtain rod if you had to do so.

There are other things you need to know as well. In the basement, if you make a right turn when you reach the bottom of the stairs you will see a series of coat hooks on the wall. Pull out the second from the right, and turn it like a key. The truth is that it is a key. When you turn it a panel will start to open in the wall under the stairs. You will need to pull it to get it to completely open. When you do open it you will find a number of things that should help you in bad times. There are warm clothes for winter, clean sheets, a rather well stocked first aid kit, as well as some weapons and ammunition for them. I hope and pray you will never have to use them. As your grandfather used to say, killing people is not fun. But sometimes you have no other choice. I know I didn’t many years ago while your grandfather was in the war.”

That statement shocked Ashley for a moment. She never had a clue that Gram had ever done anything other than be the perfect wife, mother, and grandmother. She had never displayed any violent tendencies for as long as Ashley had known her. The idea that at some point she might have actually shot someone took some getting used to. She shook her head and continued to read.

“I have already left instructions about all of the things in the basement room, in that room. However I imagine you won’t have any trouble figuring them out when the time comes.

Ashley Darling I have done all I can to provide for you after I’m gone. This house is already in your name along with my car and everything else here. It all belongs to you now. As far as I can tell there is only one thing that you lack. So I ask you, please reconsider the matter of your salvation. The Lord Jesus loves you, and wants you to come to Him. Please, oh please my dear girl, think about it. Pray about it. Ask Jesus to come into your heart. All of these things I have left you mean nothing without Jesus on your side. Call out to Him. I assure you, He will answer.

All my love,

Gram”

Ashley sat on the bed for several minutes just staring at the letter. Her mind was swimming with all kinds of thoughts. In this one letter she had seen a side of her grandmother she had never even suspected. Gram had SHOT someone? Why didn't she ever hear about that before? Her parents had never spoken of it that she could remember. This safe room was another thing. Just walking around in the house you'd never know it was here. It looked very much like every other room. She didn't have a clue about metal shutters or concrete walls. And a secret room in the basement? Ashley had been down there countless times since she had come to live with her grandmother while doing the laundry. There wasn't any sign of another room. She was beginning to wonder just who was this woman she had been living with for the past year or so. Ashley was so engrossed in her thoughts she hadn't noticed the noises coming from downstairs, until someone outside the safe room began to bang on the door of the room in which she had taken shelter.

Unsure of what she should do, Ashley remained quite and pretended not to be there. She was certain she was safe in the room, but how would she know when it was safe to leave? She looked at the letter again, and lacking any answers of her own she reached for the headboard of the bed. Gently she pulled it towards herself until it stopped, and then rotated it downward. She was rewarded by finding a series of buttons, all clearly marked, set in the wall before her. Suddenly she saw one marked 'Bedroom Door Cameras'. She pushed it, and at first thought that nothing had happened. Then she saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned quickly and brought up the pistol she had taken out of the drawer getting ready to shoot whoever had gotten into the room with her. Just before she pulled the trigger she realized the television was on and displaying a split screen. Looking closely she recognized the hallway outside the bedroom, that was being shown from two different angles. In the back of her mind she identified the locations of the cameras as being in wall decorations in the hallway. What she was more interested in was what she was seeing. Outside of the bedroom were three men trying to get the metal shutter open. They had a pry bar with them, and it seemed they had already given up one trying to lever the door open and were now beating on the wall trying to make an opening big enough to get the end of the bar into a better position to bring the door down.

Ashley turned back to the series of buttons looking for the one marked police. But before she found it, she found another group of buttons that made her wonder. They were all generally marked with the word 'defense' and each one was marked with the names of various areas around the house. The one that immediately caught her attention was marked 'Bedroom Hallway, #1'. This was followed by two more buttons. As the beating on the wall outside started once again she felt she had no other choice. Not knowing what to expect, she pushed the button.

Outside the room she heard the sounds of men screaming and cursing. She looked again at the television. The men in the hallway for some reason she couldn't understand were covering their eyes and stumbling around as if they were blind. She also noticed the floor and walls in the hall seemed to be wet, which made no sense at all. As she watched, words appeared on the screen before her. They read;

'Pepper spray dispenser empty!'

Ashley smiled for the first time that day. Maybe she didn't know as much about her grandparents as she thought she did, but she wasn't disappointed. The looters staggered back down the hallway to the stairs leaving their pry bar behind them, and nearly rolling down the stairway in their haste to leave. Ashley knew this wasn't over, but without a doubt the first round of the fight belonged to her.

With the looters gone for the time being, she turned her attention back to the buttons on the wall. Looking at them a little more carefully, she noticed there were a few more buttons marked for cameras. One said ‘Front Door’, and of course there was another for the back door, and one camera covered the stairwell the looters had just retreated down. Ashley decided there was little point in checking the two doors. She already knew these people were in the house. She pushed the button for the stairs, figuring that at least she would have some warning before they came back for another try at her door. She couldn’t help but wonder what the other ‘Defense’ buttons might do, but realized that like the pepper spray she might be only able to use them once and chose not to try them just yet.

Glancing at the television screen and finding no one on the stairs, she decided to try the one marked ‘Food’ instead. After all, those people had interrupted her meal, and she was still hungry. As Gram had promised, when she did, a hidden panel on the opposite wall popped open and slid quietly out of the way. Inside she did indeed find plenty of food, which would last for some time. Three weeks at minimum, and since she was used to getting by on much less than before everything started, it could possibly last longer than that. Much of it was dehydrated, which meant it would last for a very long time on the shelf. With water from the bathroom, the electric heating element, and a couple of pots she found in the cubbyhole she could last here far longer than the people outside could. But instead of cooking, she found and opened a can of nuts, and then sat on the bed again to try to think about everything.

She still wondered why Gram hadn’t told her about all of this. After all, this room might have been used by both of them at sometime in the past. It would have been good to know about. Then for some reason, she remembered a Bible story Gram had told her about the need to keep private things private. There had been a king in Israel, what was his name? Hezekiah, she remembered. Who showed everything he had and all of the military arms of Israel to some kind of ambassadors from Babylon. He had been healed of some disease by God, and the King of Babylon had sent these men to him with letters showing a friendly concern for Hezekiah. What the king hadn’t realized was that in the process he had given away military secrets. As a result, Israel was defeated in a war, and most of the Jewish population taken away into captivity in Babylon. Maybe that had something to do with it. She fondly remembered how as a young girl whenever she and her parents went to see her grandparents on her birthday they would tell her if she could find her birthday present before the celebration she could have it early. Trying to find the present was both fun, and a nightmare. In all the years they had done that, she’d never once found the present. Even if they told her truthfully which room it was hidden in, she couldn’t find it. Her grandparents had always held their cards close to the chest, so to speak. While she was happy to have found out about this secret, she’d never had a clue about the true nature of the house, or this room. She couldn’t help but wonder what the secret room in the basement might have hidden away inside. Again there was movement on the screen. As she looked at it, Ashley could see the looters returning to the second floor. Round two was about to begin.

Ashley watched as the three men came up the stairs. At least she thought they were the same three. She wasn’t completely sure. When they disappeared from view, she switched back to the cameras covering the bedroom door. It seemed these guys were determined to enter the bedroom, no matter what it took. This time they brought more tools. Namely, they had a long metal spike of some kind, and a sledgehammer. She guessed they had decided the pry bar wasn’t going to make it through the door or walls to the bedroom. However instead of immediately attacking the door, they took their time and examined the hallway carefully for anymore unwanted surprises. She watched them as they found the openings above the door, hidden in the door frame, where the pepper spray had come from. One of them pulled out a long piece of duct tape from a roll he was carrying, and he taped over the spray holes to prevent receiving another dose of the nasty stuff. He must have activated some kind of detector, because she heard a recording of her grandfathers’ voice come out of the homes intercom system.

“WARNING! Defensive systems for this home have been activated. The primary system has already been used. From this point on more aggressive measures will be taken to defend this home. You are advised to leave now.”

That slowed them up for a few moments. While she couldn’t hear what was being said, from the way the three were acting it was obvious they were talking about what they had just heard. Clearly one of them had already had enough. Being sprayed was one thing, but now they were being warned of something worse, and he wanted no part of it. He turned and headed back down the stairs to find easier items to steal. The remaining two set to work on the door again. While one of them held the spike in place, the other began to swing the hammer. The bedroom rang with the noise created by the attempt to get in, and the metal shutter actually vibrated from the impact. As Ashley watched the television, she considered pushing defense button two. Almost immediately she changed her mind, when again her grandfathers’ voice was heard.

“This is your final warning. Leave this home now, or face the consequences’.”

The two men stopped, covered their faces and looked up at the door frame, expecting more of the pepper spray. Nothing happened. They assumed the second warning was a bluff, and once again hammered at the door. That was their mistake. Without further warning, several rows of spikes, similar to the kind used to puncture tires of cars, shot up through the floor. They weren’t very tall, but they were very sharp. After penetrating the wood floor they still had enough of an edge to do the same to their shoes, socks and feet. Ashley couldn't hear them, but knew they had to be in pain. The two men dropped their tools and began to limp back the way they had come, leaving a trail of blood behind them.

Ashley switched the camera to the one on the stairwell and watched as the pair painfully made their way back down. Once there, they turned towards what she knew was the living room, and left her sight. She decided to try the camera labeled as ‘Front Door’. At first she thought there must be something wrong with it. Spider web like lines covered the screen. Looking at it more intently, she realized the camera had to be behind the large mirror in the living room. Obviously the looters must have broken it out of spite. She could just make out the front door, and could see there was a great deal of activity going on. Soon she knew that the injured men had made it to the bottom of the stairs and had received help from their comrades there. The men were helped out the front door and disappeared. It was also clear the thieves decided that anyone who would go through so much trouble to protect a room must have things of great value in that room. It made a second group of men determined to get into the safe room. They came up the stairs and went into a couple of other rooms, and eventually returned to her door with a large heavy table which they turned over and laid down on top of the spikes. The weight of the table forced them back down into the floor, and this new group picked up the discarded tools and went to work on the door yet again.

When the spikes were forced down it activated a recording that only she could hear.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. It seems whoever is outside hasn’t taken the hint.” Her grandfather had said softly. “I’m afraid you are going to have to take this to level two.”

After what had already happened, Ashley was almost sorry for the people outside the door. She didn’t know what ‘level two’ meant, but she was sure it would be far worse than anything that had happened so far. She watched the screen as she pushed the button. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then she noticed behind the men in the hallway a part of what she had always thought of as decorative wood trim, about waist high, quietly folded downward. One of the men noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, and started to say something to the others, but never got the chance. From inside the wall, homemade explosives detonated. Nails, small stones and even broken pieces of glass fired outward from there, and into the men trying to break into the room. They all died instantly. Elsewhere in the house she could hear the sounds of other bombs going off, and the building vibrated from the concussions. Quickly she changed the view of the camera again to show the front door. The spider web effect of the damaged mirror was gone, and she realized that what was left of it had shattered and fallen out of the cameras view. She could clearly see bodies lying in the room, and everything she could see in the way of furniture had been badly damaged. She knew that Grandpa had served in the war, but never thought about the kinds of things he might have learned while fighting. She changed the view to the back door, only to find similar destruction. Suddenly there was another recorded message.

“All of the devices have been blown. Honey, if you have to run, now is the time. Get to the basement, take the tunnel and get out while you can.”

Maybe the message wasn’t intended for her, and she didn’t even know what it meant, but Ashley decided to follow the advice. Walking to the panel that had been behind the bedroom door, Ashley pushed the ‘Open’ button. The metal panel slid easily open and she gingerly picked her way out of the room and down the hallway to the stairs, walking between what was left of the looters. As she made her way down the stairs the magnitude of what had happened set in on her. Blood from the first people to try the door was still wet, and at one point while going down the stairs, she nearly slipped and fell in it. The air was filled with acrid smoke from the explosions, and bodies seemed to litter the house. She managed to make it to the stairway leading to the basement without losing her stomach, and moved to the coat hooks Gram had written her about. Pulling a worn shop apron off of the second from the right, she pulled on it until it came as far out of the wall as it was going to go, and turned it. As promised, a conceiled panel popped open slightly. She grabbed the edge and pulled it the rest of the way.

Stepping through the door way, she was glad when lights automatically turned on. She saw what had to be a dozen or so weapons in a rack against the wall. Below them were cases of ammunition for each one of them. There were a number of boxes that had things written on them like 'blankets', as well as the names of other useful items such as clothing. She looked around and soon found a door that she had never known about. But then again it was becoming clear she hadn't known about a lot of things. She no longer even thought about how all of these secrets had been incorporated into the home. Her Grandpa had made a very good living in the construction business in the housing boom after the war. Adding secret rooms or beefing up the walls, floor and ceiling of the safe room would have been no trouble at all. He had built the house, and because of that she was sure none of these things would show up on any of the blue prints. Grandpa would have made certain of that. Moving to the door she found yet another letter from Gram, taped to it. She pulled it off the door, opened it and began to read.

"My Darling Ashley,

You have no idea how much I have hoped and prayed that you would never read this letter. The fact that you are probably means that Satan has begun his attempt to take complete control of the Earth. I know it may seem differently to you, but trust me my dear, that is exactly what is happening. Think of it from your point of view for a minute. No matter what any government official or agency has done or is doing, everything is going wrong. Nothing can stop it from happening. I hate to say it, but from now on, every choice you make could lead to your death if you choose badly. I implore you, choose to follow The Lord.

As for right now, once you open this door, the level three defenses will be activated. That means you will have forty minutes to get out of here, because in forty-five minutes, this house will catch fire and burn to the ground. So please make sure you have things ready before you open it."

Again, Ashley was stunned by her Grams' words. How could anyone live inside a bomb as Gram seemed to have done for so long? Unbelieving of what she was reading, she continued.

"There is a cart with wheels in the corner. Load the guns and ammunition on it first. Take as much of the clothing, blankets and whatever else you can and put them on the cart with the weapons. When you go through the door there is a short tunnel. At the end of it there is a very special car. Your Grandpa had it built for us. It looks normal, but it is the closest thing to a tank that I have ever seen. It also has a very powerful engine. It has to have one to carry all that weight. It already has a tank full of gas and the trunk is stocked with food like that in the safe room. There are also full gas cans on the roof. Once you have everything in the car, push the red button on the wall. A door will open that leads into the garage, and the garage will also open. Once you start moving, don't stop. I can't tell you where to go, you will have to decide that. I would suggest heading for the Smokie Mountains, but like I said, you have to choose. The important thing is that you run as fast as you can and as far as you can before you stop. After that, you must trust The Lord to lead you.

Remember, from the moment you open the door you have forty minutes. Don't delay your departure for any reason, just go.

All my love,

Gram"

Too stunned by the days events to even question what she had read, Ashley did as she was told. She was suprised at how heavy the cases of ammunition were, and wondered if the cart would be able to handle the load. Briefly she considered making two trips with it in order to get as much as she could in the car, but she soon discovered that even with all of the weapons and ammo on it along with everything else Gram had mentioned, it still rolled easily. She stopped questioning what she had been told and did it.

Before long she had the car fully loaded, then she walked to the red button on the wall. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she pressed it. She then turned, got in the car and started the engine as the wall in front of her began to open.

Ashley had looked at her watch when she opened the door to the tunnel, to make sure of the time. She looked again and found to her surprise, she was running a little behind. It had been exactly forty-one and a half minutes.

After the explosions the looters outside the home had backed off, and many of them moved on to easier targets. After all, most of the houses in the neighborhood were empty. Now when the garage door started to open it drew them like moths to a flame. As she pulled forward, Ashley found a number of them directly in her path. In spite of everything, she still didn't want to hurt anyone. But she knew if she stopped she would be pulled from the car and who knew what would happen after that. The words of her Grandmother ran through her mind.

"Once you start moving, don't stop.... The important thing is that you run as fast as you can and as far as you can before you stop."

She hit the horn at the same time she hit the gas. The car, horn blaring loudly, lurched ahead directly at them. It was good that the looters were all young. They managed to get out of the way before she ran over them. Although one either brave or foolhardy person did stand in her way until the last possible second. Ashley slightly clipped him as she headed down the driveway, and he tumbled into the grass of the front lawn. With an unconscious "Sorry." she continued to the street where she turned hard left and continued on accelerating rapidly. She looked in the mirror and saw looters entering the garage. For a moment, the thought of warning them of what Gram had said passed through her mind. She immediately dismissed it. These people were on their own, and she saw no reason to help them since they were driving her from her home. What she didn't see was that Grandpa had made one little mistake. The timer he had connected to five sets of one gallon bottles was running fast. At forty-two minutes and fifteen seconds, it hit zero. The bottles were put together in sets of two each and were spread out to cover five locations throughout the home. When the timer stopped, valves on the bottles opened, and the liquid contents of each spilled down into cheap plastic containers where they mixed. First they then started to smolder and fume, and then they burst into flame. The containers melted almost at once and the contents spilled out onto the floor and into the walls, spreading the flames. As a result fires started in five separate locations throughout the house, and spread quickly. Most of the looters that had entered the garage managed to get out again before they were trapped by the fires. Some of them did not. But Ashley knew nothing of that, nor would she have cared under the circumstances. At the moment she was more concerned with where to run to and how was she going to get there.

She sped down the road that lead into the neighborhood that she lived in. When she reached the main road that lead to it, she turned the car in the direction leading out of town. She wasn’t happy with what had happened, but since it did, she was glad it happened in the late afternoon. With night beginning to fall she felt it would be easier to avoid being seen and make good her escape. Ashley looked in the mirror, and could see the glow of a fire behind her. She pushed a little harder on the gas pedal.

Ashley knew many of the main roads had check points that were manned by men who didn't always speak English. She didn't want to have to deal with them after what had just happened. What if someone called ahead of her and gave them her license plate number? That would not be good. She also didn’t want to try to explain to those men why she had rifles, shotguns, pistols and ammunition for all of them in the car. They probably wouldn’t listen to her anyway, even if they could speak English. She would be arrested and taken to jail at best. And the worst thing that could happen she didn’t want to think about. As she continued into the night, she began to seriously consider for the first time where she would go, and what she would do now. This whole thing was just so far outside anything she had ever even heard of before. And now here she was in the middle of it. Ashley let her mind wander back over the events of the day.

First there was the incident with Brett, and the realization the things were becoming risky for her. Her good health could no longer be hidden she knew. She remembered thinking earlier that if Grams’ God did exist, then He needed to get her out of the city and into the countryside. Well, she was certainly out of the city now. Running for her life with no idea of where to go maybe, but she was out of there. In her mind’s eye she again saw the tapestry on the wall.

“GOD WILL PROVIDE”

She couldn’t believe that all of this had happened just to get her out of the city. And it was Grandpa who had provided for her. He had built the house with its secrets. He was the one that had bought and hidden the weapons. He was the one that had bought all of the food and put it away for future use. Where was this God Gram had always been going on about in that? She couldn’t exactly call what happened to her Gods’ will, it was more a matter of Grandpas’ foresight and planning than anything supernatural.

Then again, Grandpa was just as much of a Christian as Gram had been. He believed that the Bible was handed down by God, Himself and told about everything. The past, the present and the future were revealed in its’ pages. She remembered him telling her so on more than one occasion. This brought to her mind something Gram had said in the letter Ashley had found in the basement room.

“You have no idea how much I have hoped and prayed that you would never read this letter. The fact that you are probably means that Satan has begun his attempt to take complete control of the Earth.”

She didn’t know about that. Sure everything had gotten pretty bad, but come on. The devil taking over the world? If he existed at all, which she doubted, why would he want to do that? This place was a mess and getting worse by the day. Nobody in their right mind would want the job of taking care of so many people on such a polluted planet. The thought brought back a memory of one of her conversations with Gram.

“Child you have to understand. Satan rebelled against God, and lost. He wants nothing more than to replace Him on the heavenly throne. But he can’t, and so he hates God with a passion we will never understand. Now since he can’t do anything to The Lord personally, he does the only thing he can. He attacks us, because of two reasons. First of all, we are created in Gods’ image. If he can’t destroy The Lord, he will destroy anything that even looks like Him. Secondly, he knows he is going to Hell. The only way he has to prevent that is to prove that God isn’t in control of everything. So he wants to get everyone to worship him instead. And if we won’t do that, then he has to kill us. Do you understand?”

“Kind of. I mean that first part reminds me of what happened with Cheryl and Brett. She loved him, but when he broke it off, she took every picture she had of him and torn them up. Is that what you mean?”

“That’s right dear. Satan can’t destroy God, so he goes after us instead. Just like your girlfriend couldn’t do anything to her ex-boyfriend. So she ripped up his pictures. Those pictures were his likeness, just as we are made in Gods’ likeness and image. So Satan tries to hurt or kill us.”

Ashley admitted to herself that she didn’t know if Satan was real or not. But if he was, he was doing a really good job of destroying everything. If he was real, he had taken her parents, her home, everything and everyone she had ever cared about. It made her angry to think about it. Finally she spoke aloud.

“Alright, God. Gram said you care about me. She even said you love me. I’ve got to tell you, it sure doesn’t seem like it to me. I’ve lost everything. Where were you? Why didn’t you stop those looters from breaking into my house? Why did you let Gram die? I don’t know if you are there or not. But if you are, I need some real help here. Get off your throne and DO something for me. You do that, and I’ll believe.”

Full of anger and not knowing what to do, she continued driving into the night. It wasn’t long before Ashley realized she needed a plan. She couldn’t just keep driving until the gas ran out. What did she need to do? Where did she need to go? Again Grams’ words came back to her.

“I would suggest heading for the Smokey Mountains, but like I said, you have to choose.”

Okay. She had enough gas to get to one of the wilderness areas that she and her parents had visited every summer. She decided to go there. She knew it would get her out of harm’s way for the time being. And that would give her the chance to figure out what to do next. Her father had always enjoyed driving through the countryside, so she knew which roads to take to get there while remaining out of sight. When she reached the turn-off for the back roads that would take her into the mountains, she didn’t hesitate. She made the turn, and continued on.

Brett wasn't really comfortable sitting in the Commanders' front office waiting to be called in to report to him. He didn't know for certain but there were stories about things happening to those who displeased him. True, he had done well ferreting out hoarders. But he knew that there were some that hadn't been reported. He hadn't even known about Ashley until he had accidentally run into her on the street. He didn't get the chance to check her out too closely, and her excuses were believable. However, he still wanted to take a better look at her and her old grandmother. She just looked a little too well fed in his opinion. But that didn't concern him too much. What worried him more were the hoarders he knew about and he didn't report. Carol was a good example. She had enough food hidden away to last her for a year at least. He allowed her to keep it since she had been willing to let him spend the night in her bed, more than once. He even was willing to put up with her when she started to act as if she were in charge of what she thought was a real relationship. She actually believed he cared for her. Okay, maybe he had led her to believe that with his smooth talk, but the girl just didn't realize that she was only good to him for providing him food and comfort on cold nights. She didn't have a clue that he would turn her over to the Commanders men in a heartbeat if things worked out that way. In his position, he didn't have a problem getting all the food he wanted. And because of that same position he wouldn't have any trouble getting any girl he wanted. Food was always good bait in times like these. People were willing to do almost anything to get more of it. That was one of his main tools in getting his job done, and he'd had a very good time doing it.

A buzzer on the secretaries desk sounded. Without even looking up from her work she spoke to Brett.

"The Commander will see you now."

With a murmured thanks, Brett stood and nervously entered the Commanders office. He was being very observant. If the Commander was upset with him, he wanted to know while he still had a chance to escape. Upset or not Brett knew he had to be very careful of what he said. There was no telling what the Commander might know about him. He looked at Brett as he entered, and smiled. That was a good sign.

"Brett. Good to see you. Come in. Have a seat."

He moved to the offered chair and sat down.

"Thank you, Sir. It's always a pleasure to see you too. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Truthfully, you have been doing wonders so far. You have a real talent for finding the people we've been looking for." Then with a knowing look he said, "At least most of them."

"Sir? What do you mean?"

"Brett, I won't play games with you. We know that sometimes people like yourself well, shall we say, take personal advantage of the situation."

Brett Started to protest his innocence and was waved to silence.

"Relax Brett. I'm not upset. As a matter of fact, it makes me feel better about you. I understand how a man has certain needs that have to be met. Under these circumstances, it is the kind of men who take what they want that serve me best. They don't want to lose a good thing. So I think of these little indiscretions of yours as one of your perks in your job. Just as long as you remember your place, and don't try to rise too high, too fast. Or do it too often."

"Oh, I'd never think of doing something like that Sir. I though you wouldn't be so understanding about my, um, girlfriend."

"You mean girlfriends, don't you? According to our records the one you are with now is number three. The last two didn't stay around very long did they. Yes son, we've been watching you. But don't worry about it. You've found a lot of hoarders while you've been working for us. You have been very efficient in your work. And that's why I asked you to come see me this evening. I'm thinking you would do quite well in a new position I have in mind for you."

Brett breathed a sigh of relief. "Sir, I'd be happy to serve in any way I can. What would you like me to do for you"

The Commander smiled again. "Brett the truth is you and those like you have done a great job. We have collected a great deal of hoarded food, and imprisoned quite a few of those people who have been so selfish as to think they were more important than the rest of the nation. Did you know that many of them share something else in common?"

After thinking about it for a moment he answered. "I know a lot of the ones I found were pretty religious."

"That's exactly right. They are mostly Christians to be specific. It seems that many of them believe all of this is the end of the world, or something like that. Now finding these people in the cities hasn't been too difficult. The membership rolls of the local churches gave us the names and addresses of most of the people we've asked you to have a look at. But we are having a little trouble with hoarders out in the countryside. They are a different breed of cat, so to speak. Most of those smaller towns are a much more closely knit group. That is where you come in. We want you to move out of the city and into the country. We will provide you with a cover story that will pass even the closest inspection. Once you have gotten inside these communities you carry on just as you have been up to now. You can even take your current girlfriend with you, if you like."

Brett was stunned by the offer. He knew as everyone else did that outside the cities not only was food more plentiful, it was also rumored to be better. In the cities much of what was given out at the disbursement centers was the preprocessed long term storage type of food. Outside the cities much of it was freshly grown or killed. No dried meat there. It was juicy and far more tasty. His mouth was almost watering at the idea. Then the idea of taking Carol crossed his mind. Not only was she a born and raised city girl, she had been becoming something of a pain in the neck lately. He was certain he could adapt his strategy to cover the new situation. If those country bumpkins had all the food they wanted, then all he had to do was substitute something else in its place. Maybe he could get the Commander to allow him to have some gasoline to do the job.

"Brett? Are you still with me?"

"I'm sorry Sir. I was just thinking of how I could get the job done for you. But Yes Sir. I'd be more than happy to help out. But I might need a few things to get it done."

"Oh, of course. That is a given. You have to bait the trap somehow, don't you? Are you sure you can do it?"

"Very sure Sir. It will be my pleasure."

"And what about your girlfriend? If we need to make up a cover story, we'll need to know how many to plan for."

Brett smiled. "What girlfriend Sir? I can't think of anyone who fits that description."

He stood and shook hands with the Commander. There were girls in the country too, and he'd heard stories of how they were anxious to please their men. Quite skilled at it as well, according to the stories. This could be a lot of fun. He left the office feeling much better than he had when he entered. The Commander wasn't even mad about his, what did he call it? Oh yes, his indiscretions. He was whistleing to himself before he had even left the building. If he had known what the Commander had in mind as a cover story for him.



It was getting close to midnight by the time Ashley pulled the car into the long unused campground. She turned off the engine and lights. She had spent much of the trip watching the rearview mirror. There had been no sign that anyone had followed her. Now, sitting alone in the dark she finally had the chance to think of the days events. She wanted to believe that she hadn't been responsible for what had happened. She wasn't the one who had done the attacking. She hadn't done anything to bring all of this down on herself. She had done everything she could to avoid trouble. It wasn't fair. She didn't even know about the safe room at Grams' house. So how could she be blamed for those different 'defense' levels? That was Grandpas' doing. He had built the house. He was the one who put bombs and other things in the walls. How could she be blamed? Maybe, if she could convince people that the defenses had been activated automatically she wouldn't be punished for what happened if they found her. No, she decided, it wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. She hadn't really done anything wrong, yet here she was, running for her life. She was more alone than she had ever been, and had no idea of what was outside the car door, let alone what was going to happen next. It just wasn't fair. Where was this all-knowing, ever-loving God talked about If He was real, why did He let this happen to her. She'd been a good girl all of her life.

First, Ashley began to tremble, and then to cry. It went on long into the early hours of the morning.

Finally she fell into a fitful sleep. The front seat of the car wasn't the most comfortable of beds. And Ashley's' mind wasn't the most peaceful. Her dreams weren't very good. Over and over again she saw the events of the previous day. But they were never the same as the actual events. Some times she walked through her attackers without harming anyone, but was somehow hurt in the end. Other times the dead would reach out for her, as if trying to make her as dead as they were. Other times they succeeded in breaking into the safe room and just before killing her, she would wake in a cold sweat. After a long time the dreams stopped and she slept if not peacefully, at least undisturbed until several hours after dawn. At first in her half waking state, she couldn't tell where it was coming from, but repeatedly she heard it.

Thump, thump, thump.

What was that noise?

Thump, thump, thump.

It made no sense in her dreams. Nothing had made that kind of noise during the previous day.

Thump, thump, thump.

Slowly she opened her eyes. Someone was outside the car window.

Thump, thump, thump.

He was knocking on the window of the car. Quickly she grabbed the pistol on the seat next to her.

"Go away! Leave me alone!"

He raised his hands and spoke to her calmly.

"Take it easy Miss. I don't mean no harm. I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine. Now, go away or I'll shoot you." She pointed the pistol at the window, not realizing that the bulletproof window was bulletproof from both sides. The man raised his hands a little higher and took a step back from the car.

"Miss, it's okay. There isn't any reason to get upset. I ain't going to do nothing. Nobody has been up here in a long time. I just wanted to see if you were alright."

Ashley looked closely at him. He was a little older than she was. He must be in his late twenties or early thirties. He hadn't shaved in at least a week. He had a healthy look to him and his body showed he was in good shape. Not a model, but a good strong build. She had no doubt that he could seriously hurt her if he wanted to do so, but there was no sign that he was anything other than what he seemed to be. A man concerned about others, no matter what the situation might be. He was even good looking in a rough sort of way. She decided to talk to him.

"Who are you, and why are you here?"

"My name is Scott. I was just doing a little hunting when I found your car. I thought I should check it out. No telling who might be out here nowadays."

Ashley opened the window, just a crack, so she could hear him better.

"Are you from around here?"

"Yes Miss. I live just down the valley from here."

"Why are you spying on me?"

"Miss, I ain't spying on nobody. Like I said, nobody has been up to this campground in some time. At first I thought you might be some of those nosy government people. I wanted to know what they were looking for. Obviously you aren't one of them. So I just was checking on you. Are you alright?"

Again, Ashley looked at him. He seemed to be uninterested in harming her. But how could she be sure?

"How do I know that? Maybe you just want to get me out of the car."

"Miss, if I wanted to do anything to you, I would have opened the door while you were asleep. You didn't lock the door."

She looked down and sure enough the door was unlocked.

"So, how long have you been watching me?"

"Just a couple of minutes."

"Why didn't you say anything, or wake me up?"

"You looked like you weren't sleeping all that well. I wasn't sure if I should wake you up." He paused for a moment and then spoke again. "Look Miss, do you mind if I put my hands down? My arms are going to sleep like this."

She realized how uncomfortable the position must be. She felt sorry for him.

"Alright. You can put your hands down, but don't come any closer."

"Thank you. Can I ask your name? You know mine after all."

"Ashley."

"Pleased to meet you Ashley. What are you doing up here?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Like I said, ain't nobody been up here in some time. I thought if you were in trouble, maybe I could help."

"Why would you want to help me? We don't even know each other."

"It just seemed like the Christian thing to do."

That caught her attention. "Are you a Christian?"

"Yeah, I am. Is that a problem?"

"My grandmother was one." Ashley relaxed a little and lowered the pistol. "She was a good woman, but God didn't help her when she was dying."

"How do you know that?"

"She DIED! Does that sound like help to you?"

"I guess it would depend on what was happening. Was she sick, or was she killed in an accident of some kind?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well Ashley, you know so you tell me. If she had lived, would she be feeling well, or would she be asking God to let her die to escape the pain?"

That was something that she had never thought about. If Gram was alive how would she be doing right now? She had been in a lot of pain at the end.

"Are you a preacher of some kind?"

"Me? No, I'm no preacher. I just studied The Bible. So I know that sometimes things don't go the way we want. But if you are a Christian things always turn out in your best interest."

"Best interest! She died. How was that in her best interest?"

"Was she in a lot of pain?"

"Yes. At the end anyway."

"Sounds to me like that's your answer. I don't think anyone wants to live with that kind of pain. Maybe The Lord took her home to save her from hurting any more."

She thought about it for a moment. Maybe there was something to what this Scott guy was saying. That made her think of other things that had happened in the last few months. Things that didn't make sense at the time. She wondered about it.

"Miss Ashley, is there anything I can do for you? I don't mean any offense, but you seem kind of confused."



"I'm okay. It's just been a long night after a hard day, yesterday. I, um, had to leave the city in a hurry yesterday."



Scott nodded his head, knowingly. "I can understand that. We all have bad days once in a while." He paused momentarily. "Miss Ashley, can I make a suggestion?"



"What's that?"



"Sometimes we still get helicopters flying over this area. And like I said, nobody has been in this campground for a while. If one of those things flys over right now, this car of yours is going to stick out like a sore thumb. You might want to get it out of sight."



That made sense as well. But where could she hide a car? The only thing she and her parents had done up here was to put up a tent and spend the night.



"I don't know where I could hide this thing. I'm not from around here. Do you know of some place?"



"Well, I live just down the hill a little bit, and I've got a barn. You could put it in there for a while. I don't mind."



"Yeah, sure and what about after that? Are you going to offer me a chance to share your bed, too?" Ashley immediately regretted her words. Scott looked as if she had hurt him.



"Look Miss Ashley, I could have done just about anything to you while you were asleep. I was just trying to be friendly. If you don't want my help, that's fine. I'll be on my way. You just look like you could use a friend, that's all."



"I'm sorry. Things haven't been going my way lately. Thanks for the offer. Where do you live?"



"Just a bit down this road. I'll tell you what. You just follow me and I'll lead you back down there."



"How far is it?"



"Maybe a mile, give or take."



"A mile! And you want to walk in front of me that far?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing.



Scott smiled at her. "Miss Ashley, this ain't the city. Out here folks walk alot. Thats' just a good little stroll to me."



Ashley thought about it briefly. "Well there's no point in walking when you can ride. Get in."



"Thank you, Miss Ashley. I appreciate it."



"If we are going to travel together, drop the 'Miss' part." She told Scott as he opened the passengers door. "Just call me Ashley."

Ashley was slowly bumping her way down the dirt road, with Scott pointing the way when he said something that caught her off guard.

"You might want to speed up a little bit for this next section of road."

"We're already bounching all over the place. Why do you want me to go faster?"

"There's a bunch of deep sand right up here. If you are going too slow, you'll just bog down and get stuck. You don't have to floor it, just speed up a little and you'll just kind of roll right across it."

Since she had never done any off road driving, Ashley followed his advice. When she hit the sandy spot, she felt the car start to dig in slightly and began to push harder on the gas.

"Don't do that." Scott warned. "You're already in it. All you will do is dig in deeper. Just try to maintain the same speed."

She did as he said, while deciding if they did get stuck following his advice, Scott would be the one to dig them out. But soon she could feel how the ground under them firmed up and they continued on without incident.

"I would have never thought of that. Thank you." She waited until she could see the road was still hard for some way ahead before she spoke again. "Scott. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"You said you thought I might be someone from the government. Nosy people you called them. What did you mean by that?"

"Well, after California had the earthquake, and the south got hit by that 'mega-storm' there was a lot less food being produced. So the government had to find enough food for everybody. We had a parade of snoops coming around here looking for anything they could find. I mean everybody. You name a government agency and they were here. Poking their noses into everybodys business. It might not have been so bad if they knew what they were doing, but these people were stupid. Both stupid and arrogant. They thought that just by being from the government nobody would argue with them. I remember one time this guy wanted to take half of a herd of cattle, including all of the bulls, and expected the rancher to have just as many head next year. Just as many head, without bulls. Can you imagine it?"

"Rebuild the herd without cows AND bulls? I'm no farm girl, but even I know better than that. What did you do?"

"Lets just say that having two guys in suits tell that kind of thing to a room full of forty or fifty ranchers and farmers is a really bad idea. Neither one of those two had a gun, and most of them did. In short, they were told what idiots they were, and why. Then we sent them packing."

"Didn't they come back?"

"Not those two, but the government sent a couple of others. They were a lot more polite and even had a better idea of what it takes to run a farm or ranch, but they still didn't want to listen to the facts. They seemed to think that cattle can be made to breed on command. And it just doesn't work that way." Scott smiled and said, "I guess they have to be in the mood."

Ashley chuckled at the thought."Maybe if they played the right music, or some videos for them." She suggested.

Scott laughed at the idea. "Somehow I don't think that would work, but I'm not so sure about those people from Washington believing it."

"So what happened when the next ones showed up?" She asked.

"Oh, that. Well, by the time they arrived most everybody had gone underground, so to speak."

"Underground? How do you do that with a herd of cattle?"

"Do you know why you always see cattle in a pasture?"

"I hadn't ever thought about it. Why?"

"Simple. It's easier to take care of them. Think about the 'free range' days of the old west. They didn't make pastures to keep the herd in, they just let them go where they wanted. Then when it was time to take them to market, cowboys would have to ride out into the brush and drive them in. Those cattle don't care if they were in a pasture or a forest. All they cared about was eating, and not getting eaten by wild animals. So nowadays people started to turn their herds out of the pasture and into the woods. Including most of the bulls, by the way. By the time the next government people showed up, the herds size had been reduced by fifty percent. When the ranchers were asked how that happened they explained that hungry people and crooks had been rustling the animals."

"And they believed that?"

"It didn't matter if they did or not. Farmers and ranchers have had a real big boost in their status, since food has gotten short. Everyone supports them now. Those government people didn't dare do anything about it. Besides, the people out here in the country still had their guns and were ready to use them if it was necessary." Scott changed the subject. "Right up around this curve is my barn. Just pull up by the door, and I'll open it for you."

As Scott climbed out of the car, Ashley noticed two things immediately. First she didn't know if the barn was going to be big enough to hide the car inside. It was set against the slope of a hill, and she thought there was no way it would be big enough for the car. Secondly, considering the apparent condition of the building she didn't know if she wanted to even try. It looked like it was about to fall down. Still, with nowhere else to put it, she decided she could use it temporarily. When Scott opened the doors to the barn, it seemed to her that there was an endless dark cavern in front of her. It was clear that the barn was bigger on the inside than it looked like on the outside. It had obviously been dug out from the inside. Scott stepped in and turned on the lights so Ashley could see where she was going. Once the lights came on it was clear that inside the barn was more than twice the size it appeared to be from outside. She carefully pulled the
car in and shut off the engine.

"Whoa! This place is a lot bigger than I thought." She said, as she got out of the car. Looking around at the construction of it she could see that it was far more sturdy than the outside would suggest.

"I told you, people went kind of underground after the feds showed up. I was just one of them." He answered.

"So how long have you been a farmer? Ashley wanted to know.

"I'm not. I'm just a mechanic. I help to keep all of their stuff running, and they keep me fed. It's a good relationship. They get what they need, and I get what I need. It works well for all of us."

"Scott, I'm beginning to think that I under-estimated people out here."

"I'm not surprised. Most city people do." He looked at Ashley for a moment then said, "Okay, it's my turn to ask a question. Do you mind?"

"Go ahead, I own you one or two."

"Since I'm a mechanic, I notice mechanical things. When I opened the door to your car, it was heaveier than it should be. I looked at the window, and it is a lot thicker than the usual car window. Near as I can tell, that thing is bulletproofed. Why is that? I could understand it if you worked for the government, or maybe the Mafia, but you don't seem like one of them. So what's the story with all of that?"

Ashley decided to tell him the truth.

"The car belonged to my grandparents. Grandpa had the car built for them, according to what Gram told me. Why? I don't know, but I'm glad he did. When I had to leave the city I accidentally hit a guy who wouldn't get out of the way, but look at the front end of the car. There isn't even a scratch on it." She shook her head at the memory "I guess it had something to do with him being a World War II vet. He saw a lot of things over there, and didn't want any of it to happen to his family. I'm afraid that's the best answer I can give you."

"That makes sense. I noticed you have some weapons in the back seat. Did he supply those too?"

"Yeah. At least I think he did. He died several years ago, and Gram never said anything about it to me. She died about six months ago and I was living in her house when things happened and I had to leave."

"Why don't we take a look at how prepared he was?" Scott suggested. He moved to the rear passenger door and waited for Ashley to give him permission to open it. She nodded and he opened the door. Within moments Scott whistled at what he found.

"You said your grandfather was in the war?"

"Yes. Why?"

"This." He answered and pulled one of the weapons from the car. While Ashley knew something about guns, she was by no means an expert. But even to her the weapon Scott pulled out looked unusual.

"What is it?" She wanted to know.

"This is a .45 caliber Thompson sub-machinegun. Even before the government banned all privately owned weapons you had to have a special government permit to own one. These things will do an awful lot of damage in a very short time. They fire about 600 rounds a minute, and with that kind of firepower you could ruin a lot of peoples day with something like this. How did he get ahold of something like that?"

"I really don't know. Maybe he brought it home from the war."

"That's possible. I've heard of G.I.'s doing things like that. And back then it wasn't too hard to do." He looked into the back seat again. The remainder of the weapons were more commonplace before the nation wide gun ban. A couple of shotguns, sporting rifles in high calibers, which were capable of reaching long distances. Two .45 caliber semi auto pistols and an assortment of magazines for all of the weapons that required them.

"Do you have ammo for these things?"

"That was something else that Grandpa took care of. Take a look." She opened on of the boxes that were on the floor in the back to reveal a number of smaller boxes of ammunition.

"Is that all you have? That can't be more than a couple of hundred rounds. That wouldn't last long in a fight, at 600 rounds a minute."

"There is more in the trunk, next to the food. Do you think this stuff is going to get me in trouble?"

"Before everything went to hell, they would have gotten you into a lot of trouble. But now, they are more likely to get you out of it. I'd make one suggestion though. If you ever have to use this, leave the area as soon as you can. These things are loud. They are bound to attract attention. And I mean the kind of attention you don't want." He carefully placed the weapon back into the back seat of the car. Closing the door he asked her, "You mentioned food in the trunk. What kind is it?"

"I don't have a clue. The car was mostly loaded before I left. I haven't had a chance to look at it."

"Let's have a look."

Ashley agreed and together they went to the trunk. She didn't know why she was so trusting of this man. Maybe because he was a Christian so very much like Gram had been. Maybe because so far he had been a perfect gentleman. He hadn't tried to take advantage of her. Not even trying to get close to her on the ride to the barn. He had kept a respectful distance from her the entire time. He had never been anything less than polite, even when she had pointed a pistol at him before. And, she decided, he was kind of cute. She put the key in the trunk lid lock and turned it. When the lid came up, just as Gram had promised there were a number of boxes of food in the back of the car, along with more ammunition for the weapons. Again Scott whistled.

"What is it?"

"These boxes of food. Do you know what they are?"

"Just what it says on the outside. And it doesn't seem like very much."

"You should trust you grandfather more. These are called 'Enerhealth'. The reason it doesn't look like much is because it doesn't take a lot with this stuff. Take this for example. This is coconut powder. Did you know that coconuts have one of the highest sources of nutrition of any food on the planet?"

Ashley shook her head.

"Well it's true. You could survive on this alone for a real long time. True you might get bored with it after awhile, but you wouldn't starve of get weak eating a steady diet of it."

"How do you know so much about this kind of thing?"

"Remember, you're in the country now. We have to do things for ourselves. We can't just run to the supermarket any time we want. That could be a long ways away. So you get things that will last for a long time. You never know when it might be all you can get."







Brett decided that if he had known exactly what kind of 'cover' the Commander had in mind at the beginning, he might not have been so quick to accept this assignment. His lower jaw was going to be sore for a long time to come he knew. He had lost two teeth in the beating he had been forced to endure to provide the 'cover' for this job. He was also pretty sure that at the very least he would lose one more. It was loose enough. And while he had hopes of driving out of the city in a reasonably decent car, the clunker he was driving at the moment seemed like it was on its last legs. The Commander had assured him it was in sound mechanical condition, but it looked and drove like a piece of junk. He glanced into the mirror again with his good eye and thought that the swelling on the other one would begin to go down in a couple of days. This was a far cry from what he had expected. He heaved a sigh, and regretted it at once. Maybe his ribs weren't broken, but they sure felt like it. Still, if the Commander was true to his word as he always had been, it would be worth it. All he had to do was finish this assignment and he would be set for life. Just find out where and how these stupid rednecks were hiding the cattle and turn them in. Once the Commander had those animals and could prove once and for all that these morons were trying to trick him, and Brett would have it made. He would have his choice of the women, even several of them if he wanted. Them and all the food he could want, in any house he wanted in the city. And the Commander had helped make his job even easier. He was having a poorly guarded gas depot set up within five miles of his destination. Once he found the right people to tempt with the fuel, it would all be worth it. The government would have their resistors or hoarders, or whatever you wanted to call them. They would have the cattle. And everything would be fine.



He groaned as the car somehow found another pothole in the road, and his ribs hurt all the more. In all his thoughts, planning and schemes, Brett forgot only one thing, which he himself had thought of in the Commanders office. The right bait was all that was needed to get people to do almost anything you wanted them to do.

Because of the injuries he had received to give him his cover, it took Brett longer to get to his destination than had been expected. But he wasn't worried about that. The Commander was a reasonable man. He didn't expect regular reports from him. He understood that frequent reports could lead to a man getting caught, and then everything would have been done for nothing. It was nearly dark when he arrived in the little town, and Brett decided that the best thing to do was to get started establishing his cover story right away. Unlike the cities, in many of these smaller towns shops were still open for business. People in the cities had to learn how to do for themselves, and so hardware, automotive, and self help types of stores were about the only things still open. Out here it was different. People were more self reliant, and there were no disbursement centers for food. The locals grew what was needed, and supplied the local cafes, grocery stores and such. Milkmen actually still made runs to their customers in the mornings. It was in front of a small clothing store that Brett pulled up and stopped. He sat in the car for a few minutes to allow his ribs to stop hurting before doing anything else. Being used to how people avoided each other in the city, he was surprised went there was a knock on his window.

"Hey Mister." A female voice called out to him. "Are you alright?"

Looking out the window Brett found a girl of about fourteen staring at him with obvious concern on her face.

"I need a doctor. Is there one anywhere around here?" As he spoke his split lip began to bleed again.

"Old Doc Turner is up the road a little way. He has an office on the left with a sign out front. You can't miss it."

"Thank you Miss. How far is it? I've been driving for a while now and need some help and some rest. Do you know where I might be able to get a room?"

"The motel has been closed for a while now, but you might be able to get a room at Mrs. Campbell's place. She takes in boarders sometimes. Doc Turner can tell you how to get there, and to tell you the truth, I think you might better see him first."

"I think you're right. I'm hurting so much right now. You say his office is on the left?"

"Yes Sir. About two blocks down."

"Thank you very much, Miss. I'll go there now." With that Brett started the car and slowly headed down the road. It didn't take long before he found the office. After sitting in the same position for a few hours, Brett didn't have to fake his discomfort when he got out of the car and stumbled up the sidewalk to the front door. He didn't bother to knock, but rather opened the door and nearly fell into the office when his foot tripped on the door step.

The nurse who was about to leave for the day dropped her purse and ran to Brett's side.

"Sir! Let me help you." She said and with that helped Brett into one of the two wheelchairs in the office. Not knowing what his injuries were, she almost made him pass out as she put her arm around him to provide support, and accidentally squeezed his ribs. Brett groaned and moved her arm into a more comfortable position.

"Please. I think they broke my ribs." He told her.

"They? They who?"

"The people who took my food."

"You sit here, I'll get the doctor. Don't move. If your ribs are broken you could make yourself worse. Stay still, I'll be right back."

She left him sitting in the wheelchair and quickly went into the back room. He heard her calling "Doc! We've got someone out front you need to look at."

Within minutes a man in a white coat was leaning over Brett carefully examining his face. He was an older man. Lines of worry had creased his face over the years, but his manner was polite and yet completely professional. He placed a piece of gause on Brett's lip to stop the bleeding as he spoke.

"Son, what happened to you? You look like you were on the losing end of an arguement with a bear."

"I feel like it Doctor. Oh, my ribs hurt. I got ripped off for the food I had, and then they beat me to make me keep quiet."

"Ribs huh? Can you open your shirt a bit and let me have a look? My nurse said you told her you had been beaten for food. Do you know who did it? We can call the sheriff and let him handle it. They take a dim view around here of people who act that way."

Painfully Brett opened his shirt to expose the injured area to the doctor, before speaking. "All I can tell you is they were looters. And your sheriff isn't going to be able to help. I'm from the city, not around here. OH! Take it easy Doctor. That hurt." Brett said as the doctor gently examined him.

"I'm sorry Son. It couldn't be helped. I know it hurts, but the good news is that nothing seems to be broken. I'd like to get an X-Ray to be sure. Do you think you can make it back to the exam room?"

"I think so."

"Just take it nice and easy. No need to rush it. I'll be here as long as I'm needed." He looked at his nurse on Bretts' other side and said, "Janet, would you get word to my wife that I'll be late for supper and why?"

"Sure Doc. You want me to go, or should I send someone?"

"It's getting late. Why don't you go and then just take the rest of the night off. I think I can handle this. It doesn't look too bad."

She nodded and without a word left the Doctor and Brett, as she went to do as she had been asked.

"Not too bad? Doctor I feel like I'm dieing here." Brett told him.

"I'm sure you do. Whoever worked you over knew what they were doing, and did a pretty good job of it. But there aren't any broken bones that I can tell, and I know you are in pain, but none of the other damage seems to be permanent. I think with a little rest you'll be just fine after awhile. Please lie down on the exam bed. I want to get those pictures."

Brett did as he was told and soon the doctor had the X-Ray pictures in his hand, holding them up to the light. He examed them closely as he continued to talk with Brett.

"You say you're not from around here. Do you have a place to stay?"

"I met a girl when I got here. She said something about a Mrs. Campbell taking in boarders. I thought I'd try that first."

"That would be my first choice. She's a good woman, and takes care of her people. In your situation, you're going to need some looking after for a day or two." He put down the X-ray and made a few quick notes on a chart. "I'm afraid in all the excitement, I didn't get your name. I need it for my records. Do you mind?"

"Not at all, Doctor. I'm Brett Simpson."

"I'm Doctor Turner. I wish I could say it was good to meet you, but I'm glad you did stop by. The good news is you're ribs aren't broken, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you they are bruised. You will need to take it easy for a few days or a week before you start to get active again. I can give you something for the pain, but I would perfer not to. First of all I don't want you to think you're better than you are and maybe make things worse for yourself. Secondly drugs have been in just as short of a suppy as food is in most places. I'd like to save what I have in case of an emergency. Do you think you need anything?"

"I think I can get by Doctor. Now that I know I'm really not going to die, it doesn't seem quite so bad."

The doctor smiled at the statement. "Glad to hear it. You'd be amazed at how many people want them for even the most minor injuries. Alright, lets' get your shirt on and I'll take you to see Mrs. Campbell. No offense, but with the way you look, I don't think she would even open the door."

"None taken Doctor Turner. I got a chance to look in the mirror. I know I look pretty bad." He waited for a moment and then told the doctor. "Doctor Turner, I hate to say this, but I can't pay you for what you've done. When they took the food, they got everything else as well. I'm willing to work and pay off my bill as best as I can, but there isn't anything I can do right now."

"Son, you get better first, then we'll talk about payment."


The two men got into their own cars, and drove the three blocks to the home of Mrs. Campbell. It was large with more than a couple of spare rooms on the second floor. As they walked up to the front door, Doctor Turner spoke to Brett.

"I think it best if you let me do the talking. Mrs. Campbell can be a little suspitious at times." He waited until Brett had nodded his assent and then knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Came a female voice from inside.

"Rachel, it's me. Dr. Turner. Can I speak with you for a minute?"

The door opened wide and a smiling woman who seemed to be in her mid-fifties greeted the doctor.

"Dr. Turner. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"Good evening Rachel. I have a problem I was hoping you could help me with. This young man is Brett Simpson. He showed up at my office a short time ago and he needs a place to stay for a day or two until he can get back on his feet. And I mean that literally."

She looked at him and her eyes grew wide. "My word. What happened to him? An accident or something?"

"I'm afraid the world is getting worse by the day. This young fellow was attacked for what food he had, and was almost left for dead. He had to run for his life, and doesn't have a penny to his name. He has told me he's willing to work for his keep, but that wouldn't be a good idea for the next few days. I was hoping you might be able to put him up for a spell."

"Now Dr. Turner, shame on you. You know I would never turn down a soul in need like that. Bring him in here and lets' get him settled. After he heals up a little, then I'll put him to work. You don't have a problem with that, do you Son?"

"Oh no, Ma'am. I'll be happy to work for you as soon as the Doctor allows me to. I'm just ashamed I can't pay you something now."

"Don't you worry yourself about that. You just get in here and rest a spell."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Rachel, I'd stop in myself, but I'm sure by now that supper is cold, and I don't want to make my wife any more concerned than she already is. So if you'll pardon me, I'll be on my way."



He turned and went back towards his car as Mrs. Campbell ushered Brett into the living room. She made him sit in a comfortable chair, and went upstairs to get a room ready for him. As he sat there, Brett couldn't help but smile to himself. It was going beautifully. Soon he would be able to get started on his mission.

It took Ashley and Scott a major portion of the day to take stock of what her grandparents had loaded into the car. As time went by the lack of sleep and the events of the previous day and the uncomfortable bed she had been in the night before started to take their toll on Ashley. She yawned for what seemed like the thousandth time when Scott spoke about it.

"You know, you really look like you could use some sleep. I've got a spare bed at my place. Do you want to use it?"

She looked at him unsure what he might be suggesting.

"What do you mean?"

Scott smiled. "Just what I said. I've got a spare bed. Not mine, a spare. You're welcome to use it if you want. Or you can sleep in your car again. And this time you can even lock the door."

Ashley flushed with embarrassment at the statement. Scott had been nothing but kind to her. She decided to chance it.

"I'm sorry. These are strange times. You never know what someone is thinking. I didn't see your place on the way here, is it nearby?"

"Closer than you think." He answered. "Follow me."

With that he went to the back side of the barn and opened a panel that concealed a door that she hadn't seen before. He stepped though and led her down a short tunnel to his home. Stepping inside Ashley realized it was a mobile home. She also noticed there was no light coming though any of the windows. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be underground. She asked him about it.

"You weren't kidding when you said you went underground, were you? Is this thing in a cave or something?"

Scott laughed and answered her. "Not exactly. A few years ago I had this trailer put into a ravine, put re-enforcement all around and over it and then buried it. There's an air shaft that goes up to the surface so I can breath down here. I had a well put in before I covered it, and the septic tank is downhill from here. You see, while the weather outside might change, down here everything stays the same. It doesn't matter if it gets hot or cold outside, just a few feet under the surface the temperature stays pretty much the same, year around. That makes it easy to always know what your heating or cooling bills are going to be. It also helps save money."

"Don't you ever want to look outside and see what is going on?"

"If I do, I just go outside. As you already know, the front door is connected to the barn. In the mean time, I don't get unwanted visitors, anything from rats, to people. It gives me all the privacy I could want." He pointed towards one end of the not-so-mobile home. "The spare bedroom is down there. There is also a shower if you want to get cleaned up. But I'm afraid the bathroom is this way, towards my room." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring. Then he removed one of the keys and handed it to Ashley. "This is the only key to that end of the house. If you want to shower, sleep, or whatever you can do it in complete privacy."

As she took the key from him, somehow Ashley just knew he was telling her the truth.

"Thank you. You know, I didn't think about it before, but I could really go for a shower right about now."

"Well you go ahead. If you don't mind, I saw some clothes out there in the car, I'll bring them in for you."

"That would be nice. Again, thank you.

"Not a problem."

Scott turned and left Ashley standing next to the bedroom door. She went in, not quite knowing what to expect. The room was small, but it was neat and clean. The bed was against the far wall and already made. It looked as if Scott kept it that way. Against the opposite wall was a small desk, with a chair. Near the foot of the bed was another door. This door was clearly added to the home after it had been placed where it was, and she guessed correctly, that the shower had been installed afterward. Inside the door was a small rack with clean dry towels ready and waiting for use. Ashley turned on the light, and found there was an exhaust fan hooked into the switch. Stepping back into the bed room, she closed the door, and locked it before getting undressed and starting the shower. She hadn't realized just how tired and stressed out she was until she felt the warm water caress her body. She felt the tension easing away as she washed and enjoyed it all. She really didn't intend to take advantage of Scott's' hospitality, but it felt so good she just couldn't bring herself to end it too quickly. But she didn't know if he had bathed that day and didn't want to use up all of the hot water. Soon she got out, dried herself with one of the soft towels, which she discovered were of the over sized type. She wrapped one around her and unlocked the door to the bedroom. Peeking out she saw no sign of Scott, but a box that had been marked 'clothes' by her grandmother was sitting just outside the door. Holding the towel around her with one hand she pulled the box into the room and closed the door. She and Gram had been about the same size, and it wasn't long before she found a pair of jeans and a blouse that would fit her. However being as tired as she was, she decided that a nap would do her some good. She looked at the desk and found a drawer with both writing paper and a couple of pens. She quickly wrote a note explaining how tired she was and asking Scott to wake her in an hour. She put it on the outside of the door and crawled into the bed.

When Ashley woke, she felt much better than she had when she went to bed. Her dreams had nothing to do with the events of the recent past, and she found herself well rested. Looking at her watch, she realized the instead of the hour she had expected to sleep, she had in fact been sleeping for more than three hours. Ashley found herself getting upset with Scott for disregarding her wishes. She quickly got up and dressed herself, and went looking for Scott. She found him sitting in the barn, with all of the weapons that her grandfather had provided in front of him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" She demanded.

Startled by her voice, Scott turned towards her and said, "Oh. Hi. You're awake. Did you sleep well?"

"I slept fine, but I left a note asking you to wake me in an hour. That was three hours ago. Why didn't you wake me?"

Scott looked almost embarrassed when he answered.

"To tell you the truth, after I dropped off the clothes, I thought you might want a little private time, so I came out here. I hope you don't mind, but I've been looking over your car, and I noticed that it has been awhile since these weapons have been cleaned and oiled, so I thought I would take care of it for you. Anyway, if you did leave a note, I never saw it."

As she looked, Ashley could see that most of the weapons had in fact been carefully cleaned and oiled. The car certainly looked like no damage had been done to it. She realized, yet again, this man wasn't like anyone she had ever known before. He acted like Christian men were supposed to act according to what Gram had said.

"Oh, well if you didn't see it, I guess I can't blame you."

At that moment a knock came on the barn door.

"Scott. Are you home? It's me, Curtis."

Scott got up from the bench where he was sitting and went to the door. Opening it he greeted his visitor.

"Curtis! How have you been. Where have you been? I thought you were going to live in the city."

A slender and kind of short man walked into the barn. "Hey Scott. Good to see you again. Yeah, I was sent there for awhile. But since things have gotten so bad I thought I needed to come home and look after Mom and Dad." He held out his hand which Scott took and shook warmly.

"Well, I'm glad to see you anyway. Curtis, this is my friend, Ashley."

He turned and looked at her. Ashley could see by the scars on his face this man hadn't had an easy life. She wondered how he could be so friendly.

"Hello Ashley. Any friend of Scotts' is a friend of mine." He held out his hand to her.







"Doc! The sheriff is here to see you." Janet said as she opened the door to his office.



"Very good. Please show him in."



The Sheriff was a large man. He almost had to turn sideways to make it through the door. He was a man of a mild nature, but then when someone was as big as he was, not many wanted to cross him. Those who did, learned very quickly that it wasn't wise to do so.

"Harry. Good to see you. Please come in, and close the door if you would."

The request to close the door alerted the sheriff that something was up. He had known Dr. Turner for fifteen years, and always known him to be a very friendly and open type of man. If he wanted the door closed, there had to be something serious he wanted to talk about. He closed the door and sat in the chair across from the doctors desk.

"Always glad to see you Doc. Why did you call me? Is there a problem?"

Dr. Turner leaned forward on his desk and looked him in the eye.

"I'm not sure Harry, but there is something I think you need to know about."

"What might that be?"

"Harry, I had a young man come to see me a couple of nights ago. He says his name is Brett Simpson. I've got to tell you that someone worked him over pretty good."

The sheriff got a serious look on his face, and pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket.

"Is he from around here?"

"No, he says he is from the city."

"Then what do you expect me to do?"

"Right now, nothing. But there are some things that just don't add up in his case."

"Oh? Like what?"

"To start with, he claims he was beaten by someone or ones for the food he had. He also claims they took all of his money. And I have to tell you, that someone or ones beat him pretty badly. But that is one of my problems."

"How so?"

"You tell me. If someone was beating on you, wouldn't you fight back? At least try to give as good as you got?"

"Of course."

"Harry, this young fellow didn't have any marks on his hands like he defended himself. It was like he just stood there and took it."

"Maybe someone had a gun on him. Or maybe one guy held him while the other worked on him."

"True, except for a couple of things. If someone held him, they didn't leave bruises on his arms from holding him. That would be a neat trick if you could do it. And if someone held a gun on him, the person doing the beating would have to get between him and the gunman. That would give him the chance to either fight back or escape, don't you think? And there is one other thing. I've seen my share of beating victims in my time. When someone gets beaten this badly, I'd expect some broken bones. He didn't have any."

"Yeah, I would think so, but that still doesn't prove anything."

"I know, but there is more. I dropped him off at Mrs. Campbells' place to heal up a little. Now he said that the people who beat him took his food and his money. As I was leaving I looked into his car. Harry, he has almost three quarters of a tank of gas. And there are food wrappers in the back seat of his car. Now if someone wanted his stuff that badly, don't you think they would have taken his car as well? Or at least drained his gas tank? Yet he shows up here with gas, and food wrappers. If the people who beat him took his money, how did he manage to buy food on the way here?"

The sheriff looked closely at Dr. Turner. "You know Doc. I wish my deputies were half as observant as you are. You're right. Something doesn't smell right about this one. What do you think he is doing?"

"I don't know. But if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say one of three things. One, he is a thief who deserved the beating he got. Two, he is a spy for the government, trying to find out what he can. Three, he is a spy for all of those foreign troops that the president has invited into the country. And he is spying for them."

"Much as I hate to say it Doc. you just might be right. Okay, I'll look into it." The sheriff got up to leave. As he reached the door he stopped and turned to the doctor for one final question. "By the way Doc. Are you teaching the adult Bible study class on Sunday?"

"Matter of fact, I am."

"Good. Can I ask this weeks subject?"

"Funny you should ask. I was thinking discernment would be a good subject."

The sheriff smiled at him. "Sounds like you've already been doing that. See you Sunday Doc."

"See you Sunday Harry."

Ashley shook Curtis' hand. He had a firm grip she noticed, but it wasn't as if he was trying to impress her. He seemed to be a kind man and she wondered how he and Scott knew each other. The answer wasn't long in coming.

"So, what happened Curtis?" Scott asked. "Last I heard you were on a missions trip to the city."

"The city?" Ashley said, "I thought Christian missions trips went to Africa or Asia or some place like that."

Curtis smiled at her, and then answered. "To tell you the truth Ashley, we go wherever we are sent by The Lord. Yeah, sometimes it's to places like that. But sometimes it's to places you'd never expect. New York, Boston, Orlando, Kathmandu, wherever He needs us to go, that's where we go."

"But how do you know?"

"He has ways of telling us. In my case, I resisted going to any city in this country. I thought that my calling was elsewhere. But in the end, everything pointed to going into an American city, and that's where it turned out I was really needed. For example, there was this woman I met. Her name is Anna Rodgers. She is a prostitute. I found her looking for answers to questions she had, that she couldn't find on her own. I tried to show her the way to The Lord, but things have gotten so bad, I had to come home and look after my own family. I just hope that she continues to look in the right places for those answers. She was a good person."

"A prostitute? How can you say she was a good person?"

Curtis looked Ashley in the eye before he answered. "Ashley, you have to understand. If it weren't for Gods' grace, we would all be like that. Selling everything from our bodies to anything we might have just to get what we think will give us what we want. Nobody is immune to the wiles of Satan." He looked at her more intently than she thought was possible, and said, "You're not a Christian, are you?"

"Well, I'd guess I'd have to say no I'm not. I mean Gram, my grandmother, was but I never had any kind of 'religious experience' that made me want to change my life or anything. I just couldn't see how all of this could be done by the hand of some all seeing, all knowing, all loving God. I'm sorry if I offend you."

"No. You don't offend me. A lot of people feel the way you do. But the question I have to ask is do you want to learn about Him?"

Before Ashley could answer, the door to the barn jerked open. In the doorway stood a man with a gun in his hand. Like Scott, he looked like he hadn't shaved recently. But in his case it wasn't just his face that was covered with stubble. His head also had the look of being unshaven.

"Nobody move!" He shouted at the three of them, as he kept his pistol leveled at them. "Well now. What do we have here? A car, some guns, two white folks and a ******. Looks like I came to the right place."

Ashley could see on his upper arm a swastika tattoo. She automatically had a bad feeling about the situation.

"What do you want?" Scott demanded.

"It looks to me like everything I could want. Guns, a car, and a woman for starters. Maybe I'll even have some fun with the ****** when I'm done with the girl. But for right now, I'll take the keys to the car, and you can load those weapons into it." He sneered.

"I can't do that." Scott said. "This woman is my guest. I won't let you have anything that belongs to her."

"You think you have a choice? Put the guns in the car now, or maybe this one will go off."

"Friend, what you are doing is a bad mistake. You can't steal from people like these. The Lord wouldn't take kindly to that." Curtis said.

"What do you know? A ****** preacher. I thought I'd seen it all, but this takes the cake. Shut your filthy trap ******. Or I'll shut it for you."

"Fella, I don't know who you are, but you are really making a bad mistake talking to my friend that way."

"Friend? So you're one of those race traitors I've heard so much about. Do you really think a scrawny little ****** like him is going to scare me?"

"No, I don't. But this MAN should. Look, you leave now, and we'll pretend you were never here. If you don't, well I can't be held responsible for what happens. You've been warned."

The man laughed. "You really do think I should be afraid of him. Let me show you how scared I am."

Ashley later realized that it was adrenaline that made things seem to slow down so much. As the man started to turn his weapon on Curtis, everything seemed to slow down. She started to shout a warning to him. But even at the reduced rate of speed, Curtis was nothing more than a blur of motion. Somehow he managed to get close to the man and at the same time drop below the intended line of fire from the pistol. She wasn't entirely sure, but it looked like Curtis struck upward with one hand, knocking his gun arm upward, and taking the pistol out of the situation by being pointed at the ceiling. Next he seemed to take the mans legs right out from underneath him and sending him toppling over onto his back. Before anyone could do anything, Curtis was sitting on him, with the intruders weapon in his hand, and he was hitting the intruder in the head with it. The mans body went limp, and Curtis stopped what he was doing and looked at Scott and Ashley.

"I'm sorry. He didn't leave me any choice."

Shocked at what she had just witnessed, Ashley put her hand over her mouth and said,

"What just happened? I've never seen anyone move that fast. You sure did a number on him."

Curtis slowly stood over the unconscious form of the man, and answered her.

"Ashley, I'm not proud of what just happened. I didn't want it. But some people are just so filled with hate, they can't see anything else. I really don't know what else to say except I was pretty much raised on the streets. Out there you have two kinds of people. The quick and the dead. I've never been that fond of the idea of dieing, so I got quick. And when something like this happens, there is no mercy." He moved away from him and handed the pistol to Scott. "Here's one more for your collection."

Scott took the weapon, removed the magazine, emptied the chamber, and put it in his belt. Then he put the extracted round back into the magazine. "Thanks. I guess we'd better get him ready to take to the sheriff. Give me a hand tying him up, will you?"

Together Scott and Curtis securely tied the man. Ashley was still amazed at the reaction of the whole thing by Curtis. He seemed to honestly detest what had been done, but he never hesitated once things had gotten started. She found herself admiring him.

"I think we had better take him to town in my truck." Scott announced. 'Alot less likely there will be too many questions that way."

"I think you're right. Scott, I hope this wasn't caused by me coming here. I value our friendship too highly for that my brother."

"Curtis, I don't think you had anything to do with this. This guy would have come here anyway. As it is, I'm glad you were here. He doesn't know it, but you just saved his life, brother."

The two men shook hands and together picked up the unconscious man and took him outside the barn and loaded him into Scotts' pickup truck for the ride into town. At this point Curtis turned to Scott and told him,

"I'm sorry, but I need to check on my folks. I just got back and I happened to pass by your place first. I need to check on them."

"Not a problem. You go do what you have to do. If the sheriff has any questions, I'll send him your way. That alright with you?"

"That's just fine." Curtis answered. He then turned to Ashley and said, "Ashley, I wish our meeting had been under more pleasant circumstances, but it was nice meeting you. If you ever have any questions about The Lord, I'm here. And I'm ready and willing to answer them."

Ashley couldn't help herself. She reached out and hugged Curtis before he could stop her. "Curtis, I wish I had known more men like you when I was growing up. But I'm glad I know you now."

He smiled at her, and waving goodbye, he headed down the road towards the home of his parents.

"I guess we better take care of the trash." Scott told her. "You don't have to come, but it would make things easier if you came with me to talk to the sheriff."

"You couldn't keep me away." She said with a smile. "Besides, without me it is your word against his. You think I want someone like him on the loose?"

Scott smiled at her. He was starting to like this girl. It was a shame she wasn't a Christian. He'd learned about that kind of thing the hard way once before. Together they got into his truck and started towards town. They just chatted about things for awhile, but soon she had to know about some things. Things that had seemed out of place to her caused her to question Scott.

"I thought Christians were all about forgiveness and praying for your enemies. All that kind of thing. You know, turn the other cheek and and all of that. So how do you explain what just happened?"



Scott smiled to himself. It was the first time Ashley had asked anything about being a Christian. It was a good sign.

"Well it's true, we should forgive those who try to do us any kind of harm. Right now, I don't have any hard feelings towards our passenger. I actually feel sorry for him. But the thing is that even we, as Christians, pay the price for our sins. I mean say you were a Christian, but you were also a lifetime smoker. God will forgive the sin of smoking, but you might still have to pay the price by getting lung cancer."

"That doesn't seem fair. I mean if you are forgiven why would you get sick?"

"Free will." Scott answered. "You have the choice to smoke or not to smoke. God will honor that choice. After all, it is your body, and your choice. But that doesn't mean He won't hold you accountable for it."

"I think I see. This whole Christian thing is a lot more complicated than I thought."

"No, it's not. It is all about free will. God sets the rules. We just have to decide if we are going to follow them or not. That is where free will comes in. He sets the rules, we decide what we want to do. He won't interfer with what we choose.That is what happened with Satan. He was an angle at one time, but he chose to rebel against God. He has to pay the price for that choice. Understand?"

"I'm not sure. But I think I'm beginning to see. God gives you the choice, but holds you accountable for that choice."

"Almost. It's not just Christians, He holds everybody accountable for their choice, Christian or not."

Ashley thought about it. It seemed to make sense. But she still didn't quite buy it. She decided to change the subject.

"What about our friend back there? If you forgive him, why are we taking him to the sheriff?"

"We all get held accountable for what we do. This is his accounting. At least in this life."

"You know, this seems like it is hard to understand, but the way you explain it...OH NO!!" Ashley suddenly slipped lower in her seat. She ducked completely out of sight to the people outside the truck.

"Hey! Are you okay?" Scott asked. "What's wrong?"

"Don't look at me. Just keep driving. Pretend I'm not here." Ashley sounded panicked.

"Alright, alright. Just tell me what's going on." Scott had stopped at an intersection in the road.

Ashley spoke quietly as if someone might hear her. "Do you see that guy with the rake? The one on the right side of the road?"

Scott looked. Sure enough there was a man on the side of the road, raking Mrs. Campbell's yard. He had a hugh black eye.

"Yeah I see him. So what?"

"He's a government agent. I knew him in high school."

"How do you know that?"

"When we were in school, he was always one of those people you couldn't trust. He was always around whatever was going on, but not involved in it. No matter what happened, you could bet he would come out on top. Even if people who called him friend had to suffer, he was never in trouble. He's always been sneaky."

"Okay, he was a jerk in high school. That doesn't make him a government spy."

"You don't understand." Ashley answered. "It's hard to explain, but he went away for awhile after graduation. After he did, a lot of my friends got into all kinds of trouble for nothing. If someone had a little extra food, they got arrested, and it seemed like his name always came up. He came back just before I had to leave. He was really interested in my disbursement card, when nobody else cared. Now he's here. He has to be looking for me."

"Slow down just a minute. Does he even have an idea that you're here?"

"I don't think so, but that must be why he is looking."

"Ashley, do you have any idea how you sound right now?"

"I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but I know he works for the government."

"Okay, let's start there. How do you know that?"

Ashley had to calm herself before she continued. "It's like I said Scott. Back in the city, nobody cares what it says on your disbursement card. When I had to show him mine, he really checked it out. Only an agent would do that. Then when I told him that I was taking care of Gram, he wanted to come by and see her. Nobody has tried to see either one of us in months. Why else would he be interested?"

"I thought you said your grandmother was dead."

Realizing that she had let some of the truth slip, Ashley told Scott the whole story of how she and Gram had agreed not to tell the authorities when she passed away, and Ashley had managed to continue to have enough food when everyone else went hungry. Then she told him how Brett looked so well fed when they had met on the street. Scott noticed the seeming contradiction of half starved people and a well fed person who was evasive about how he managed it. He also thought it odd that a person from high school would be so interested in a card. It didn't seem quite right to him either. But it wasn't enough to condemn a man. He had continued driving to the end of the block and turned right. Once Brett was out of sight, he spoke again.

"Alright. You can sit up now. He can't see you."

Ashley slowly sat up, and looked around, as if expecting to see Brett looking into the truck and asking his usual nosy questions.

"I'm sorry Scott. But I KNOW he works for the government. You can't trust him, no matter what."

"Well, he didn't try to stop us, and we are out of his sight. I don't know why, but I believe you. Maybe we should..." Scott noticed movement in his rear view mirror. "Uh oh. Looks like we might have other problems right now."

"What?"

"Our friend in the back seems to be wanting to leave us."

When he and Curtis had put the man in the back of the truck, Scott had tied his bound hands to the heavy toolbox he kept in the back. The man was no longer tied to it, although his hands still seemed to be tied.

"What do we do?" Ashley asked.

"Don't worry. We're here." Scott pulled up and parked in front of the sheriffs sub-station. Thinking about it for a moment, he realized he did indeed have a problem. If he and Ashley went into the station, the man and maybe even Scott's truck might be gone by the time they came out. Asking Ashley to go in for one of the officers wasn't a good idea. They would want answers to too many questions before they came outside. Trying to retie him would mean he would have a chance of overcoming Scott, and then still stealing the truck and possibly Ashley as well. After all, he had expressed an interest in her before. But leaving Ashley alone with him had risks as well, even if he was still tied. All of this was running though his mind as he stopped. He did all he could think of. He said a brief prayer. At once an idea came to his mind. He opened the glove compartment and took out a loaded revolver. He handed it to Ashley and told her.

"Don't say anything. Just put this in your belt and follow whatever I say. Alright?"

She nodded and as he got out of one side of the truck, she exited the other. They each walked to the back end of it, and Scott lowered the tailgate.

"Here you go." He said to her casually. "Take a seat."

"What are you doing traitor?" The man demanded.

"I'm going inside to get the sheriff or one of the deputies. She's going to make sure you're still here when I get back."

"Her? What makes you think a girl like her can make me do anything I don't want to do?"

Scott sighed. "Listen stupid. You didn't want to believe me when I told you not to mess with my friend. Now you're here, all tied up and ready for the law to take care of you. Now, if you don't want to believe me about her, fine. You want to try to run, it don't make me no never-mind. Go ahead and try. She'll just kill you like the last two that tried it."

The mans eyes widened slightly and he looked at Ashley. With Scott's warning beforehand Ashley took the hint. She looked at the man, smiled, and put her hand on the butt of the pistol sticking out of her belt. He watched her for a moment, and then leaned back against the toolbox.

When he entered the sub-station, Scott soon found that most of the deputies were out, but the Sheriff himself was in the office. After quickly explaining what was going on, the Sheriff himself came outside with his deputy to see what Scott had been talking about. He found the man still leaning against the toolbox, with Ashley watching him intently. He saw the bruising on the mans head from the beating he had gotten from Curtis, and told the deputy to take the man inside, lock him in a cell, and then send someone for Dr. Turner. Once that had been taken care of, he looked at Ashley. He smiled, reached over and pulled her shirt-tail out of her pants and covered the pistol before he spoke.

"You know little lady, that was a mighty brave thing you did just now. Keeping an eye on a man like that without even having a gun on you. I mean if you did have one, I'd have to arrest you. They are illegal you know." Then he turned to Scott. "Your taste in women seems to be improving Scott. This one is quite a keeper I'd say. You say Curtis did all that to him? I thought he was out of town."

"He just got back. My place was on the way to his parents house, so he stopped in to say hi before going home. That's when that guy showed up and started threatening people. He pulled a gun on us, and Curtis put him down."

"Pulled a gun on you, did he? You wouldn't happen to know where it's at right now would you?"

"I'm sorry Sheriff. It's right here." Scott pulled the weapon from the front seat of the truck and handed it to the Sheriff.

"Well now, that does make this a more serious offense. Miss did you see all of this that Scott here is talking about? That fella wanting to steal things and so on?"

"I was one of the things he wanted to steal, Sir. At least that is what he was saying."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Oh, yes Sir. He made that pretty clear. Didn't Scott mention that?"

"Yes he did, but you didn't know that. Now, I know that Scott was telling the truth."

"Oh."

"Sheriff, there is one more thing I think you need to know about. Ashley here noticed someone on the way to your office. She says he's a government agent, and I believe her."

"Oh? And just where did she see him?"

"He was working in Mrs. Campbell's front yard."

The Sheriffs' eyes widened slightly. "Was there anything unusual about this fella, and do you have a name on him?"

Ashley spoke this time. "His name is Brett Simpson. And I don't know how it happened, but he has a great big black eye."

"Now that is interesting. Miss would you mind coming into the office tomorrow, say about nine o'clock? There's a few more questions I'd like to ask you."

After Ashley agreed to return to the sheriffs office the next day, She and Brett returned to the truck and started back to his place.

"'She'll just kill you like the last two'? I thought Christians weren't supposed to lie." She said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Well I didn't think telling him that he could probably get away if he tried was a good idea.." Scott grinned at her. "But if you want I can be honest the next time something like this happens."

"I'm not complaining. I like the way things worked out. I was just surprised by it."

"Think of it like this. If you were a soldier in combat, would you give accurate information to the enemy?"

She shook her head.

"I don't think I have to try too hard to convince you that guy was our enemy. So I made him think what I wanted him to think. If he tried anything, he'd be shot. So, I don't really think of it as lying. In a way, we saved his life. What's that old toast? 'Confusion to the Enemy'. That's what I did.

All of which gets back to what you were asking about. Does a Christian fight, or not? Let's go back a little first. When God gave The Law to Moses, it was more than just the Ten Commandments. That's the part they always make the movies about. But there was a lot more to it. One of the things in there was the right to self defense. Now, God has said;

Mal 3:6 For I [am] the LORD, I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed.

That's important to remember. God doesn't change. Now some people, mostly pacifists, say that when Jesus came, He changed everything. Only one problem with that. God doesn't change. Besides, even Jesus said;

Mat 5:17 ¶ Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil.

If He said He didn't change The Law, then I still have the right to self defense. That's what God gave me, and I'm not letting any court take it from me. That's why you had that pistol.

About when and how to use violence, I think we aren't supposed to go out looking for it, but if it comes to visit, we should be ready for it. Just before He went out to be betrayed He was talking to eleven of the twelve disciples. One of them had already left to betray Him. What He said was;

Luk 22:35 ¶ And he said unto them, When I sent you without purse, and scrip, and shoes, lacked ye any thing? And they said, Nothing.

Luk 22:36 Then said he unto them, But now, he that hath a purse, let him take [it], and likewise [his] scrip: and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment, and buy one.

Luk 22:37 For I say unto you, that this that is written must yet be accomplished in me, And he was reckoned among the transgressors: for the things concerning me have an end.

Luk 22:38 And they said, Lord, behold, here [are] two swords. And he said unto them, It is enough.

To me the meaning is clear. Weapons to defend yourself with are permitted. Having a lot of them, with no intention to share, that's another."

Ashley shook her head. "Are you sure your not a preacher? Sometimes you sound like one. I think I'm starting to get it. A lot of it depends on intent or choice, doesn't it?"

"A lot of it does, I guess. The Bible does say that God looks at the heart, not the outside. Like people do."

"That would be a good thing."

"What do you mean?"

"Some of the things I did to get enough to eat, for one thing. I already told you how I lied about Grams death, just so I could keep getting her rations. Having someone judging me because of the heart might be a little more lenient on me. I mean what else was I supposed to do?"

Scott realized that she was upset and spoke to her gently. "Ashley, if want to talk about a few things, it's forty five minutes from here to the house. Not only am I your captive, but I'm also a willing listener."

"Thank you, Scott. I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Any where you want.We can talk, you can unload a little. We can get to know each other." He smiled at her. She smiled back. After a few moments her concerns of the recent past came out. Slowly at first. Later she found herself telling him things he didn't need to know, and probably couldn't care a less about. Still she noticed her listened to her concerns and spoke about everything she brought up with genuine interest in helping her.

It was late by the time they got back to Scott's' home. They said their 'good-nights' by the front door, and went to their own rooms. Ashley locked the door, and got herself ready for bed. As she did, her mind went back over the recent events here in this place, forgetting about the troubles back home. She wondered briefly what Gram would say about Scott. 'He's a fine young man, child. You should get to know him a little better.' Would be the most likely. Well, she had to admit, so far Scott had gone out of his way for her. She knew Gram would approve of him, if she had met him. He was the kind of guy she had always talked about. One thing Gram had said about that kind of man was he was trustworthy. That was why she married Grandpa. She remembered asking Gram, 'Well, how do you find someone who is trustworthy?' and Grams no nonsense answer to it was, 'You have to take a chance. You show a little trust, and see what they do with it. If they are faithful, then you know you can show them more trust.' She thought about it for quite some time that night. In the end she got up, unlocked the door, and placed the key on the kitchen counter before returning to bed.


Scott and Ashley did get one little surprise on the way to the sheriffs office in the morning. A deputy met them on the road into town, and told them that the sheriff thought it a good idea for Scott to park in the garage area, and he and Ashley come in by the back way. Ashley was more than a little concerned. What if the sheriff had found out what she had been doing with the disbursement card? Soon she found herself once more in his office, sitting in a chair across from him, and sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Ashley, there are somethings I have to ask you about in regards to this Simpson person. Now some of it might seem a bit personal, but I have to have answers, and you are the one who can give them to me. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head and said, "Go ahead Sheriff. I don't see how you could ask anything too personal."

"I hope you feel that way in a few minutes. You say you knew this man in high school. Tell me did the two of you ever have any kind of relationship?"

Ashley almost choked on her coffee. She coughed for a moment or two, placed her hand against her throat and cleared it. Looking at him she spoke.

"A relationship? With Brett Simpson? Oh Sheriff, you have no idea. Brett has always been the kind of a guy who would use a girl, and then dump her when he got bored. He did that to a friend of mine. He showed her pictures of her boyfriend with a college age girl, and they were obviously very friendly. She dumped him, and went with Brett, because that was what he wanted. Later it turned out that the girl in the pictures was the cousin of the ex-boyfriend, which Brett knew at the time. That's why they were hugging each other. But that didn't come out until later, after Brett got what he wanted and dumped her for the next girl. And the ex-boyfriend wasn't about to come back to her. It was a mess. There's no way I'd ever have a relationship with someone like him."

The Sheriff thought about the reports he'd already heard that this Simpson guy certainly was interested in the ladies. It helped to solidify in his mind that Brett was more than he seemed to be. But what to do about it? He continued with the questioning. "Are you sure the two of you never got together at any time? You know what they say, 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' as been the motive for more than one bad thing happening."

Ashley looked at him, not believing what she was hearing. "Sheriff! No way would I ever have anything to do with someone like him. And he wouldn't want someone like me."

"Why not?"

"Well, look at me." Ashley stepped back and spread her arms out. She looked down and for the first time saw what the enforced diet had done to her. She was five feet four inches tall. At one point she had weighed close to one hundred sixty pounds. Looking down now she realized much of that weight was gone. She was probably around one fifteen or twenty. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked up.

"This is going to sound funny, and you have to promise you'll never breathe a word of it."

Confused the Sheriff agreed.

"Sheriff, I used to weigh a lot more than I do now. I guess in my minds eye, I still see that girl. I never noticed until this minute just how much weight I've lost. The point is, back then Brett wouldn't have given an overweight girl the time of day. I know. That's how he treated me. A relationship with him? I'd rather pet a hungry shark."

"I'm sorry if I have offened you, but I had to make sure this isn't some kind of revenge thing." He stopped, looked at some notes on his desk and spoke again. "When you knew Brett back then, how would you describe him. Besides being a womanizing jerk I mean. Was he easy to get along with? Was he bossy? Did he get into a lot of trouble or fights? How would you decribe him in those terms?"

The questioning went on for over an hour, when the Sheriff finally said, "Ashley I want to thank you for coming in today. You've filled in some holes that I had. I have to ask you not to discuss any of this with anyone outside this room."

"I won't." She promised.

"Ashley there is one more thing. I'd like you to stay around town for a little while. Just in case there are some more questions."

"I'll stay as long as you need me to stay. I don't have any family anymore, and nowhere to go." She stood and started towards the door. As she reached out for the knob, she paused. Looking back at him she called to the Sheriff.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Go right ahead."

"When we first met, you said I was brave for guarding that man without a gun. Why did you do that?"

He looked at her, and just for a moment seemed to be somewhere else. "I was in the service. Did you know that?" She shook her head and he continued. "Sometimes in the service you see the most awful things. Sometimes you are ordered to do those things. But the truth is you don't have to obey an illegal order. If I didn't then, I see no reason I should now. People need weapons to defend themselves. Especially since the gangs have been moving out of the cities. If that means I look the other way sometimes, so be it. But if you make a show of it, then I'd have to arrest you. Besides, you were with Scott. When he came in he was in a hurry, and couldn't wait to get back outside to you. Scott is highly respected around these parts. He's done a lot of good for a lot of people and never asked for a penny in return. If he was that concerned about you, I should be as well."

"Thank you, Sheriff."

"Now speaking of Scott, let's get you back to him before he thinks I've taken you to be my own."

After the two of them had left, the Sheriff walked back through the station to his office. Along the was he picked one of his deputies to follow him. Reaching the office, the door was closed and the Sheriff was all business.

"Barry, I need you to do something for me. You remember the Tyler house burning down last week? Well, you've just become Barry Tyler. That was your house. You've gotten your wife and children staying at your mother-in-laws house while you try to start over here in town. You are going to be staying with Mrs. Campbell for at least a week or two, maybe more. I've already spoken to her about this, so she will be expecting you. Also make sure to tell your wife you won't be home for awhile. I need you to get there with no more than a bag of clothes, and a real sob story. The reason for this is I think we had a government spy staying over there. I want you to get close to him, but don't be too obvious about it. You know, you're looking for work to take care of the family, and the economy is terrible. That sort of thing. See if he tries to pump you for information, tell him anything, but keep him under observation as much as you can without blowing your cover. Got it?"

The deputy nodded.

"Alright. Take the rest of the day off. Go home, get ready, and make your goodbyes. Be back here first thing in the morning for a final briefing. And yes, I already know. You can tell you wife not to worry. Just a simple stake out with no expected gun play."

The Sheriff leaned back in his chair as the deputy left for home. He had a lot to think about. With what he had learned from the doctors report, and what Ashley had said all seemed to tie together. She had said that while he usually didn't start fights, he usually was still standing at the end of them. Yet Doc had said he didn't fight back when he was beaten. Ashley had made no secret that she felt Brett was below contempt. And Doc did say he was a smooth talker. But there were still a few holes to be filled. If anyone could fill them, it was Barry.

Brett was sitting in the front room on the first floor on a Sunday afternoon, when he heard a knock at the door. He started to answer it, when Mrs. Campbell came into the room and insisted that he sit down. She when to the door, as Brett listened carefully to every word.

"Barry Tyler! What on earth are you doing here? I thought you were still with your wife and family."

"Good afternoon Mrs. Campbell. I was with them for awhile after the fire, but a man has to work, and there wasn't any around her parents place. So I came back here. At least I know some folks around here. Like as not I'll find a job soon. Then I can start on getting a new place for the family." He paused and looked like he was embarrassed. Then he said, "That's why I came here Mrs. Campbell. I was hoping that you might put me up for awhile. I can't pay you right now, but you know me. I'm good for it. I will pay you, it's just..."

Mrs. Campbell cut him off. "Tush! I know how hard things are for you. Losing your house like that. Thank God nobody was hurt. I know you've got a lot of problems right not. Well I'll not be one of them. There is an open room upstairs. You'll move in there and stay as long as you need, as my guest. I won't take a penny."

"Mrs. Campbell. You have to let me pay you something."

Again she cut him short. "What? You think I want your money in my pocket when you've got a family to care for? Especially since I've known you since you were that high?"

Brett couldn't see the gestures of the people speaking, but in his mind he could easily picture it.

"Besides, If I charge you now, whats to say you couldn't charge me for all the little things you've done for me? Helping me out you've been a carpenter, a plumber, a roofer, and you've even replaced a light switch or two as I recall. And now, when you need help, you want to give me your money? I won't hear of it. You get yourself in here."

Brett hear the door close and two sets of footsteps approach him.

"Mr. Simpson. I'd like you to meet somebody."

Brett stood and turned to see the two of them. He studied the new man carefully for a moment, smiled and held out his hand.

"I'm Brett Simpson. Pleased to meet you, Mr.?"

"Tyler. Barry Tyler."

"Mr. Tyler is going to be with us awhile. Since your rooms are right next to each other, I thought it nice if you two got to know each other. Seems you have some things in common. I mean with both of you losing everything you had and all." She turned to Tyler. "Now Barry, you sit right here while I go get your room ready."

Mrs. Campbell was the sort of woman that not many said no to. She assumed that the men would sit and so she turned and headed up the stairs, without waiting for an answer.

With nothing else to do, the men smiled at her back and at each other and sat down.

"Just call me Brett, since we're going to be neighbors for awhile."

"I'm Barry. So what was Mrs. Robinson talking about? We have something in common?"

"I wasn't trying to listen in when you got here just now. But from where I was sitting I could hear just about everything. You lost your home to a fire? Man that must be tough."

"The worst part is the wife and kids. I mean if it was just me, it wouldn't be so bad. But the kids have lost the only home they've ever known. And my wife had really done things with that place. You knew she was home. Everything just as she wanted it. Now it's all gone. And there's no way I can fix it. All I can do is start over." Barry rested his head in his hands for a moment.

"Well, is it going to be hard finding something to do? What is your line?"

"Oh I'm sort of a handyman really. You know the old saying 'Jack of all trades, and master of none.', that pretty well describes me. In normal times there would always be something for me to do. Fix a fence. Install a faucet. Put in light fixtures. All that sort of thing. But now a days, people aren't needing my services like before. Makes it tough. What about you, Brett? No offense, but you look like you're running from a jealous boy friend or something."

Brett smiled at the joke. "No. This was a present from the guys who beat me up and stole almost everything I had. I had to get out of town. After I was able to move I got down stairs, into my car and headed out. I didn't stop until I got here. A girl showed me to Dr. Turners office, and he brought me here. And I used to be a salesman. So you can imagine what things are like for me right now."

The two of them nodded in sympathetic understanding and leaned back in their chairs with very different thoughts. Barry had been trying to play the distraught husband and watch Brett at the same time to see if he was believing it. He thought so, but decided against laying it on too thick at the moment. Most men in his position wouldn't just go on about it after the situation was explained. Better to let Simpson speak first.

For his part Brett was cautiously happy. He was healing up quickly, and would soon have a local guide who could get him familiar with the area and people. He could get an idea of who might go for the idea of stealing some gas to trade for animals. The the Commander would have his proof, and Brett would have his reward. And this guy. He couldn't have asked for better.A local no doubt, and he would have a good idea where to start looking.

"You know, maybe we should go out looking in the same areas. That way if either one finds something the other can do, we can tell each other." Brett offered.

"I don't know about you, but I'm on foot."

"That's okay, I have a car. We can cover more area and hopefully find something."

"Do you mind if I put a few tools in the back? When people need something done, it is usually a 'right now' kind of thing."

"Not at all. Hey we have to look out for each other in times like these, don't we?"

"That would sure be a help to me. The more territory I cover, the better my chances. Thanks."

"My pleasure. Besides, I'm sure we could both use the company."


Scott couldn't help but notice that Ashley was quiet after leaving the sheriffs office. Clearly, it seemed to him, she had a lot on her mind. He stopped trying to talk with her and drove back to his place. He parked the truck next to the barn and shut off the engine.

"Okay, I've been polite this far, but you've got to say something sometime."

"What? Oh, sorry. I guess I was cuaght up with my own thoughts."

"Sure looks like it. So what did you two talk about anyway?"

"He told me not to tell anyone. Not even you."

Scott looked at her. His eyes trying to look right through her it seemed to Ashley. Finally he spoke.

"Well I guess I understand that. But I already know that he wanted to talk to you about that guy you saw yesterday. and it makes me wonder what kind of people you hung out with in high school. Goverment agents and such. I wonder if they are going to come breaking down my door." He said with a smile.

"Only if I give them the secret code sign." Ashley joked back at him.

Scott laughed as the two of them went into the barn. He continued his estimate of the situation.

"Let's see, we tell the sheriff that you think you've spotted some kind of government spy. Then he wants you back there for questions and answers today. Not to hard to figure out who you were talking about. Knowing the sheriff, he had you telling him things you didn't even remember knowing in the first place. Am I right?"

"I'm not supposed to say anything." She said sternly. Then she smiled at him and said, "So I'm not going to tell you you're wrong." She paused for a moment and told him one more thing. "The Sheriff told me to stay around for a little while. And I still don't have a place to live, or a job. Do you know of any places I could check for either or both?"

"Usually I'd recommend Mrs. Campbells place. She takes in boarders, and has been known to help folks out with jobs doing things around her place to keep it up. But I don't think that will work this time. I'll have to look around a bit about the job. But as far as living goes, You can stay here until you're ready to leave if you want. Which reminds me. I found this on the kitchen counter this morning. I guess you accidently left it there." He held out the key to her room.

Instead of taking it, Ashley said, "I left it there, but it wasn't an accident. Last night I remembered something Gram used to tell me. She'd say that sometimes you just have to take a chance a show some trust in people. Then you will find out if you can trust them further. Scott, you've been nothing but nice to me, and never asked for anything in return. I think you've shown me that I can trust you. I want you to know that I do. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to visit the powder room."

With that she left him standing in the barn, still holding the key in his hand.He smiled at her back and then put the key back on the key ring.

During the next two weeks a number of things happened. The President had declared martial law nationwide, and placed all local law enforcement officers under the command of the foreign troops that had been brought in to supposedly keep the peace. For the time being they were concentrating on larger cities. Everyone knew, however it was only a matter of time before it would spread to all cities and towns . The Sheriff was wondering about how he was going to deal with a foreign military commander giving him orders, and what those orders might be. From all reports he'd gotten from old friends of his who were men on the ground in the first affected areas, things were not going well. In some places the troops had been welcomed with open arms. They had been seen as saviors from the ravages heaped on them by the gangs that had been roaming freely throughout the cities. But then things started to turn ugly. These strange men who didn't speak English didn't want to be bothered with hearing excuses anyway. You were off the street by a certain time, or you went to jail. If you resisted in any way, you were shot.

So many people were arrested at first the only place to hold them was in stadiums, conference centers, and other such places. That is until what happened in Nashville. The smaller airport was chosen to be used as a holding facility, while the larger international airport was used to bring in more troops, weapons, and supplies. To many of the older veterans it looked very much like the occupying force they had once been in Europe after World War II. They didn't like it. Veterans from other wars, places and times didn't like it either. Soon, many of them were doing things they had long since hoped had been forgotten. They crawled though dark areas at night gaining as much information about what these troops were doing as was possible. Tools were quietly gathered, along with large amounts of certain chemicals, always purchased in small amounts to avoid suspicion. The timing of guard changes was studied and noted. What equipment the routinely carried. Plans were being made for the escape of the people who had been locked up for no good reason. Until the night Sandra Davis was killed. Then everything changed.

In an effort to put a good face on the treatment of the 'political prisoners' or 'disruptor's ' as they were being called, Regional Commander Robins decided to put on a show for the people. He arranged for the entire city of Nashville to have power on one night, and had it announced that there would be a live broadcast to quell any rumors of mistreatment of the prisoners. At a preappointed time, he was standing in front of one of the gates to the quickly made internment camp. He wasn't in uniform, but instead wore a very nice suit and tie for the occasion. Just before the cameras started, the lights came on and a crowd of prisoners began to come closer to a gate to see what was going on. The people watching the spectacle couldn't see the guards off camera, with machine-guns and assault rifles pointed at the gate. During Commander Robins talk, the gate was opened at one point, as he was making a point that none of the detainees were in any real danger, and that they would remain there as long as needed to help clear up any misunderstanding.

Sandra Davis was in her late fifties and looked older than that. She had stayed a little too long at a friends house one afternoon, and left late. Her friend had suggested that Sandra spend the night, but Sandra assured her that she would be fine and left for home. The street patrol found her at ten minutes past curfew. They arrested her on the spot and she was taken to the internment camp. She had been there for several days, and like all the others there, she was half starved. It seemed that the guards weren't really interested in the well being of the prisoners. Like so many others, when the lights came on, she went to see what was happening. She saw a well dressed man speaking to a T.V. camera, talking about how well she and the others were being treated. It seemed to her that this had to be a man of some importance. She thought that maybe this man didn't know how badly people were being treated here, judging by the things he was saying. When the gate was opened she saw a chance to improve her situation. While he had his back to her, Sandra burst from the crowd and threw herself at the mans legs. She desperately grabbed hold of one of them, pleading with him to have her released. She didn't deserve to be in this place. Guards ran up and unwrapped her arms from around the Commander Robins leg, and threw her back towards the open gate. Desperate people do desperate things. Instead of going back into the gate, Sandra turned and once again tried to get to the well dressed man. First one guard hit her in the body, and then a second smashed her face with the butt of his weapon. Bleeding profusely from the nose Sandra turned and and pleaded on her knees, even louder than before for at least a little food be given to the prisoners. They were starving. One of the guards, who spoke no English at all, had had enough. He shot Sandra in the face, on live T.V.

By the next morning, many people were in open rebellion against the foreign troops. To their amazement, many of them were killed with weapons that weren't on the rolls of weapons to be picked up. Some of the ones guarding the interment camp had to be pulled off that duty to help put down the insurrection. The veterans who had already been making plans leaped at the chance. Surprisingly, they met absolutely no resistance when they first entered the airport area. Then they heard something that made their blood run cold. There were the sounds of both angry and frightened shouts and gunfire coming from the far end of the airport. Racing as fast as they could, they came upon the remaining guards calmly shooting into the crowd of prisoners. This was no attempt by the guards to put down an insurrection. They were simply executing them all. The veterans weren't quite as calm about their business. By the time it was over, no guards remained alive. Of the over four hundred people that had been detained, only fifty-seven remained. It was just the beginning of three days of rioting that took place in most of the major cities throughout the country. In the end, the foreign troops would come out on top because of better firepower and both air and artillery support. But the price paid for the victory was quite high, and many of those responsible for it had melted away into the back country and mountains to avoid capture and certain death.

It was shortly after this that Commander Robins was summoned to the office of the Regional Director. It took most of the trip to Director Claire's office for Robins to get himself under control. He had heard the stories. He hoped he would be able to walk out of the Directors office, and not just disappear like so many others had.



For Brett the time was, in his mind, productive. Commander Robins had been pleased with his report of how he had been welcomed with open arms by these country bumpkins, and was being treated like a wounded bird being nursed back to health after his 'ordeal'. He had also reported that he had a lead on how to get an inside with these ignorant people. He was hopeful that things would be working out in the Commanders favor, very soon. When martial law was declared, it did hamper his efforts somewhat, but people were allowed to go to work or school. They just had to be off the streets by a certain time, every night. So his daily outings with Barry were not interrupted. As he knew Barry would, after a few days he asked about gas. He felt he should pay for his share of what was used. This Brett knew was his opening. He told Barry not to worry about it. Because of a former job and favors owed to him, gas wouldn't be a problem. As he expected Barry asked about the favor he did that supplied him with so much fuel.

"Well, sometimes people get in kind of a tough spot. And when you help them out they are grateful. The trick is to help the right people." Brett answered noncommittally. "I can't say too much about it. Just that at that time scratching his back was the best way to get mine scratched. So when I need gas, I make a call, and things happen."

Understanding Brett's meaning, Barry said, "It sure would be good having a friend like that. I imagine I wouldn't mind too awful much doing some back scratching if it meant that my family could be a little better off, if you know what I mean."

"I don't have a family, but I know what you mean. We all need as much help as we can get these days. To bad you don't have a car. Maybe I could work out something with my friend to help you both out."

"Who said I didn't have a car? My wife has the car since she might need to have it for the kids or something. I left my work van at her parents house because it is just to expensive to drive around looking for work. I can usually get by with the tools in my toolbox. So I decided to just bring them and leave the van with my wife."

"Oh, I didn't know that. Maybe there is something I can do for you then. But you have to understand, my friend might ask you to do something that he doesn't want talked about."

"Like what? I'm not ready to go out and kill people for hire just yet."

"No! Nothing like that." Brett laughed. "Actually there is no telling what he might want. One time he used me as a courier for some kind of secret paperwork he had. He said that all of his regulars were known, and he needed a new face that wouldn't be recognized. Another time he had some visitors from out of town come by. I was asked to show the daughter of one of them a good time, while the men talked all day long." Brett smiled a very self satisfied smile and said, "I don't know who entertained whom more, but we never left the hotel, and she wasn't complaining."

"I don't think my wife would want me to take a job like that. And I know I wouldn't want it."

Brett laughed again. "It wasn't a job exactly. I mean we were supposed to do the tourist thing, but she had other ideas and I sure wasn't going to argue.. That was just an extra perk. No, I don't think you would be asked to do something like that. And you never know. He is a reasonable man. He might be talked into doing you a favor now in exchange for a favor from you, later."

"I don't know. Sounds a little fishy to me."

"Hey, Barry. We all have to do things we wouldn't usually do just to get by these days. I mean, would you be here without your family if everything was normal?"

"Well, no. I wouldn't do that normally."

"Just what I'm talking about. Times have changed, and a clever man can change with them. Maybe even make a profit out of it. Isn't that what we are doing right now? Trying to make some money? It's not like we are out ripping people off. But if something comes up, and say you could do a trade under the table. Nobody gets hurt, and you make enough to get started rebuilding your home. Wouldn't that be worth it? After all, a man has to look out for his own family."

"A trade, huh? You make it sound tempting, but what have I got to trade? I need my tools, and they are about the only thing I have left."

"You never know, Barry. You never know. So what do you say? Should I ask my friend to help out? Or should I just forget it?"

"Let me think about it. maybe there is something to what you say. I know the family would be a lot happier in our own place again. I'll give you an answer in a day or so, alright?"

"Just don't take too long. With the way things are going, the man might just decide to limit his exposure, if you know what I mean."

Brett was certain he had Barry now. It was always a matter of finding the right bait. In this guys case the bait was a chance to make things better for his family. That was one that was easy to work.

Barry now was certain that the sheriff was right. This Simpson person was offering all the right bait to entrap Barry in something and then use it like a club over him. He couldn't wait for the day to end. So he made the excuse of going to see his family for ending the day early. Brett spoke as he got out of the car.

"Going to tell the wife about your change in fortunes?"

"I haven't seen a change yet, so my mind still isn't made up."

"Okay. I understand. It is a big decision. Maybe you should talk it over with her. Just remember. Nothing really illegal, just things that they want to stay out of sight. You won't even have to carry a gun."

"I'll let you know in a day or so. Good bye Brett."

Barry turned and started walking down the road that would lead him out of town.



After the shock of real live martial law set in on Ashley, she turned to Scott.

"What do we do now? It sounds like nobody can leave their homes without government approval first."

"Not quite. You can't go out at night. And you have to stop at check points during the day. It is going to make things bad for a lot of people, that's for sure. And after Nashville, a lot of people will be spending the night with their friends or family." Scott thought about it for a moment. "Still, it's not as bad as it could be, or will become."

"What do you mean?"

"You said your grandmother told you that all of this is the beginning of Satan's efforts to control the world, right?"

She nodded.

"I think so too. And if that is true, then he is going to make things bad for every Christian he can get ahold of. He's going to have most of us killed. At the same time, he is going to be making things worse for all people."

"You make it sound like he wants to kill everyone."

"The Bible says;

Matt: 24:22 And except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved: but for the elect's sake those days shall be shortened.

So yeah, I think he wants us all dead."

"Then if you believe all of that, why not just give up being a Christian? It's better than being killed."

"I know you might have trouble believing this, but you are wrong. You see, you are just looking at this life. A Christian is looking to the next life. If we deny God here and now, He will deny us then." Scott had been loading his tools into the truck, and now turned to her and said, "I have a job on the other side of the county. I'll be gone for a day or two at most. I've asked Curtis to stop by and check on you while I'm gone. I hope you don't mind."

That caused Ashley to think. Scott was sounding to be more and more like Gram every day. Here he was chancing curfew violation to help someone else. And all the time believing that he might be killed, but he was going anyway. That was just like Gram.

"Aren't you worried that something could happen to you?"

Scott smiled at her and told Ashley, "That's Gods problem. If He wants me to die, nothing will stop it. If He wants me to live, they will never have a chance at killing me."

He climbed into the truck, started the engine and with a wave of his hand was bouncing down the road leading towards town. As promised Curtis showed up early the next morning, riding a bicycle. He found her sitting on a bench just outside the barn door.

"Good morning Ashley." He said cheerfully. "How are you doing this morning?"

"I'm not so sure there is anything fine about it, besides the weather." She looked at him for a moment and then asked; "Curtis, you said if I wanted to talk with you about God and Christianity I could. Does that include questions that might be...well, uncomfortable for you?"

"Those are the kind I'm supposed to have answers for. Go ahead." Curtis said.

"Alright. Remember, you asked for it. Curtis, I've seen all kinds of people who say they are Christians saying all kinds of different things. Some of them hateful things. Before everything started going to pieces I once saw a guy on T.V. who was basicly saying if you aren't white, you can't be saved. How does someone know which one of these different churches to go to? Which one has the truth?"

"To tell you the truth, anyone who tells you they have all the answers, has to meet one requirement. Is it in The Bible? If not, then they are preaching the wrong thing. Let's take that person you were talking about. I've heard the same thing. So I looked in The Bible for the answer. Which is something that that person obviously didn't do. You see, God looks at the heart, not the outside. In the Book of Acts there is a story of where God told a man named Phillip to go with this man in a chariot. Phillip was supposed to lead this man to faith in Jesus, which he did. They even stopped the chariot to baptize this man. Here's the thing. God told Phillip to preach to this man, and he was Ethiopian. Ethiopians are black. So how can that guy say what he said? I've only figured part of it out myself. I guess I'll never understand it all."

"What part is that?"

"People always want to be part of something special. Something that sets them what they believe is above everyone else. Sometimes that happens in matters of faith. Some people like to believe that He is the God of 'just us' instead of justice. A just God can't favor one group over another, since he created them all."

The two of them spent much time talking that day. Curtis had a way of answering every question she had with some reference to scripture. Finally she did ask one question that he couldn't find an answer for in The Bible.

"So how did you get started being a preacher? Were you raised in the church?"

"No. Nothing like that. All of this is because of Scott."

"How's that?"

"I told you once before that I was raised on the streets. That is where Scott found me during a revival meeting that was being held. I have to admit, at first I accepted the invitation just to see how much I could get from a bunch of religious people in a big crowd. I used to be not to bad as a pickpocket. But while I was there, something happened. I had all these easy marks all around me, and I just couldn't bring myself to steal anything from them. I mean those people weren't like any I'd ever met before. Later as I listened to the service, I really listened for the first time. And it all made sense to me. It changed my life that night." He paused and got a sorrowful look on his face. "Changed Scott's life too. That trip was what caused his wife to divorce him."

"Scott was married?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Oh. Uh, Ashley can we just forget about what I just said?"


It took Barry over an hour to quietly work his way to the meeting place he had arranged with the Sheriff. The report was brief, but to the point. Brett was feeling him out. Trying to find out just how far he would go to take care of his family. So the question was, how far could he go? Especially since Brett hadn't suggested anything that was illegal. It was told to him that he should go as far as he can. But with certain little bits of help here and there. Say Brett wanted to deal drugs. Then Barry would 'sell' his drugs to another undercover officer. That way the other officer had a cover as a user that was known to the last supplier before he was arrested. And Barry was more likely to have help if and when he needed it. The thing now was that Barry had to convince Brett that he was willing to at least go a little off the path for the benefit of his family. In the mean time, since he had told Brett that he was headed home to spend time with his family, then by all means he should go do that and be ready to move on to the next stage of the set up when he returned in a couple of days.

"No way! Curtis, you can't stop now. You brought this up, so there's no way you can back out of it. What do you mean that Scott was divorced because of some missions trip?" Ashley demanded.

"I really shouldn't have said anything. It just kind of slipped out. I really think you should ask Scott about it." Curtis was clearly embarrassed by the admission, and edged away from Ashley a bit, while looking as if he wanted a good reason to leave as quickly as he could.

"Curtis, you were talking about yourself. That means you have a right to tell at least your side of the story. Now, come on and give. You brought it up."

Curtis took a deep breathe, and let it out with a sigh. "I'm sure you've noticed that Scott is a Christian. Well, his wife wasn't. For a couple of years they were happy together, or so they tell me, and then Scott felt the calling to do something more. He started doing more in the church, and his wife didn't like it. They started to fight, and then when Scott was called to go on the trip where we met, she told him if he left, she wouldn't be there when he came back. He went, and she left. He got served with divorce papers a week after he came back."

Ashley sat and listening with growing disbelief. "If he was in love with her, why did he go in the first place? I mean, it seems to me that he would have listened to her and stayed here."

"It isn't that simple. You see, when you really serve The Lord, He has to come first in everything. What she was doing was making him choose which one he loved more. If he decided to serve The Lord, and go on the trip then she wasn't first in his life and wouldn't stand for it. On the other hand, if he stayed with her, then he would have decided that she was more important than God."

"You mean she left a man like him over something like that? Was there something wrong with her? I mean it wasn't like he was cheating on her. After all he wasn't going to the bar every night with God. He wasn't living in their house, and eating their food."

"Well, I know what you mean. But that isn't exactly right. As Christians we believe that The Lord sees everything, knows everything, and is involved in our lives every minute of every day. So in a way He was living with them. He is why Scott is the man he is. She just couldn't understand that and so she left him. The whole thing was pretty hard on him. Which is why I'm surprised that you're here. Scott hasn't opened his home to many people since then. Not that he wasn't friendly, I guess you could say he became more reserved I guess you'd call it that. And yet, here you are."

In spite of her careful prodding, Ashley couldn't get Curtis to say more than that. Time and again he would simply tell her;

"I've already said too much. You need to talk to Scott."

Finally realizing that Curtis really wasn't going to be giving her anything further she gave up on the attempt.





By the time Barry returned to the home of Mrs. Campbell, Brett had his plan ready to go. He just had to wait for the right opportunity to bring the subject up. He didn't have long to wait. As he and Brett rode together looking for work Barry spoke to him.

"You know Brett, I feel bad that you won't let me try to help with the gas."

"Don't worry about it. My friend and I have it all worked out. But speaking of that, I heard from him the other day while you were gone. You know how bad things are getting in the city with food and everything. Especially now with martial law. Well it turns out that someone hijacked a truckload of food, and his order was on the truck. He was asking me if I could come up with some beef for him. He said he is willing to be generous for just a frozen side of beef, and asked if I could help. I told him I wasn't sure, but maybe I could find someone who could help. Then he told me that he would be generous with anyone who helped me get the meat. So what do you think? Do you know anyone who might be willing to part with some meat for some gas? You see my friend is in regional distribution for things like that. So he can stick some aside for his own use when he wants to do so. And he uses that for trading for what he wants."

"If he is in distribution, why does he have to have an order of food sent to him? I would think he could just walk into the distribution center and get what he wants."

"It's not like that. You see, they have everything broken up into different departments. He handles things like fuel, and other people take care of things like food. He can get all the gas he wants, but you can't drink it, or eat it. He does get some benefits from government service, but if it isn't in his line of work then he has to do like the rest of us. What I mean is that while he is on the top of the list for distribution, and can put in an order for certain types and amounts of food, there are no guarantees about delivery. So when something like this happens, he asks if I can do him a favor like I was talking about before. And he does me a favor by letting me fill my tank from time to time.

Now I've already told him that a side of beef has got to be worth more than it used to be with the shortages and all. And he is willing to let us have quite a few gallons for the beef. So what do you say? You could drive your van again and have a much better chance of finding work."

"I might know someone. He used to raise cattle. He still might have some for sale. I'll have to check with him first. How much gas do you think we'll get?"

Brett smiled to himself. Barry had said 'we' without reservation. He was nibbling at the bait. "I'm fairly certain he would let us have at least fifty gallons. That would be enough to fill my car, your van, your wife's car, and still have some to trade for the meat."

"I'll have to check on it." Barry answered, realizing that this was the proof he was looking for. Brett had to be a government spy. Now he had to report in and arrange for the trade to happen. "I know this my, my friend isn't likely to just hand over anything without getting something back. It would have to be a kind of 'cash on the barrelhead' kind of thing. Do you think your friend would have a problem with that?"

Brett smiled even broader as he spoke. "Hey. He's in government service. He understands the way things work. But he might only be willing to put down have in advance and the rest on delivery."

"Well, as long as my friend gets his gas up front, he might go for the deal. Like I said, I'll have to check with him about it."

"Why don't we go see him now?"

"No Brett. He wouldn't like talking about business with strangers around, if you know what I mean."

"Sure, sure. That's the way things work now a days. When will you see him? My friend is in kind of a hurry."

"I'll speak to him tonight."

"What about curfew? Aren't you afraid you'll get caught?"

"Brett, I grew up around here. The people who might catch me are people I went to school with. I'm sure I can talk my way out of any trouble." Barry paused and then continued. "Besides, I've spent more than one day hunting. I know how to move around without being seen. You'll just have to trust me on that one."

"Sounds to me like you already have a plan. Okay, you do it your way and we'll see if we both can't come out ahead."

Later that evening as Barry made ready to leave, Brett asked himsomething. "Hey Barry, if you are going to be leaving to see your friend, wouldn't it be better to wait for it to get completely dark?"

"Not really. The two times of day that people have the hardest time seeing things are at dusk and dawn. With all the changes in light and shadow it's hard to be sure of exactly what you're looking at. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

With that Barry left the house and started to carefully make his way down the street. He left in a direction that would take him out of town, but as soon as he was sure that Brett couldn't see him any longer, he changed direction and headed for the sheriffs office.

After Barry had reported everything that Brett had said to him, the Sheriff leaned back in his chair and thought about it.

"You know Barry, there is nothing illegal with what Simpson is asking you to do. Just a simple trade of goods for goods. Nothing wrong with that. But it sounds to me like he might be trying to lead you down the wrong path. Get you started with trading and then go from there. I want you to lead him on. I'll make a couple of calls, and make sure that you have a side of beef to trade. You make sure that Simpson thinks you are a useful idiot and we just might draw him out far enough to make an arrest."

"Sir, no offense intended here, but if you arrest him, won't that let the feds know we are on to them?"

"Yes it will. But it will also let them know that they aren't going to succeed here. At least not this time. I'm sure some government official will stick his nose in this business and get him off. But in the mean time, he didn't find anything wrong, and we did our job. What could be wrong with that?"

"I guess so. What exactly do you want me to do now?"

"I want you to keep playing it nice and easy. Cry about how bad your family is doing, and get him to offer more chances for you to get out of trouble. Let him lead you in the direction he wants to go. Do whatever he suggests, as long as you don't have to break the law yourself. Right now, it seems to me that he is definitely a government agent, but he hasn't done anything to warrant an arrest. We have to give him enough rope to hang himself, without going over the line ourselves. It will be tricky, but whenever you have any doubt, or any other problem, check in here and I'll try to give you an answer."

"Yes Sir. What about the beef?" Barry asked.

"Let me talk to someone I know. I should have an answer by morning." He smiled. "One of the good things about being in law enforcement is that you can do what you want after curfew and nobody will say a word." He looked at Barry and asked, "What about you? Do you need a lift back to Mrs. Campbell's place or are you going to walk?"

"I think walking would be a better idea. But if you don't mind, I'm going to sit here for an hour or two. No point in making him suspicious at this point. And if I show up too early that's just what will happen."



After leaving Director Claire's office, Commander Robins was a relieved man. First of all he was still alive. Secondly he was surprised to learn that the Director wasn't really that upset with him over what had happened at the gate to the internment camp, or the three days of rioting that followed.

"You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs." He had said. "Besides, the ones who were rioting were the ones who would be the biggest threat to the new order. In a way, you've done me a favor. Those disruptor's are out of the way now, and the rest are to afraid of what would happen to them to even think of standing against us."

He had to admit to himself that while he agreed with what the Director had said, he still was uncomfortable with the killings. He felt that the foreign troops had been overenthusiastic with their responce to the events. They didn't need to kill as many of the people as they had to make the others fall in line. Still, it made it better for everyone else, because there weren't as many mouths to feed. Not so many people trying to get fuel. And with martial law in effect it was safer for the men under his command. His mood was improved even more when he arrived at his office and found Brett's report waiting for him. That Simpson was an idiot to be certain, but he was good at finding out things that he and his men couldn't. Too bad after this job he would have to be eliminated. Someone with as much knowledge about the inner workings of his department and methods of doing things simply couldn't be allowed to roam at will. He might say the wrong thing to the wrong people and then Robins would be in danger. If the people learned what he was doing, it would only be a matter of time before one or more of them decided to become a sniper and come after him. Not to mention he would have everything he needed to blackmail Robins. No doubt about it, after this Brett had to go.



It was close to midnight before Barry crept quietly into the home. Since he lived there Mrs. Campbell had given him a key, so he didn't have to stand outside and knock until somebody woke up and let him in. He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water to quench his thirst after the long walk back from the sheriff's office. As he poured it from a pitcher kept by the sink for just such a purpose, he heard a slight scuffing sound behind him.

"It's okay, Mrs. Campbell. It's just me." He said without turning around.

"I'll let her know when she wakes up in the morning." Brett answered. "So how did it go?"

"Oh, Brett. I thought you were Mrs. Campbell. Did I wake you up?"

"Actually, no. I was kind of waiting for you to get back. Are we set to do this?"

"My friend has to think about it. I should have an answer in a day or two. But it looks good. I know he needs gas, so he should be willing to let loose of a side of beef. But I have been thinking. Between your car, my van, and my wife's car, that should just about take that fifty gallons you were talking about. So what will we have left to offer him?"

"I was thinking that we just fill up your van and my car at first, and next time we fill your wife's car."

"Next time? What makes you believe there will be a next time?"

"Two things. First of all, my friend has other friends. When they find out what he has gotten from us, they will want some as well. Secondly those other friends will be in other areas of distribution. I'm sure your wife wouldn't mind new clothes, shoes or maybe something else that is rationed. Don't you think?"

"Yeah." Barry answered slowly. He realized that Brett was in a hurry to get things done. He also knew from his training as a law enforcement officer that the more hurried a person became, the more likely he was to make a mistake. he decided to do as the sheriff had said, and lead Brett on a little. "I don't know how often my friend would be willing to do this, but he isn't the only one that can get his hands on that kind of thing."

"Oh. So you have more than one source. That's great. We could stand to make a nice little profit out of this arrangement."

"Maybe. I guess it depends on what your friend and his friends have to offer. You know what they say. One man's trash is another man's treasure." Barry finished his drink and then spoke again. "First thing though is to find out what my friend has to say about this time. It's fun to think about but right now, I need to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning Brett." He set the empty glass down by the sink and went upstairs to bed.

"Scott. What are you thinking? Didn't you learn anything the first time?" An older woman spoke disapprovingly to him as he sat on her couch.



"Aunt Lilly, I'm not the kind to make the same mistake twice. I know better than to get involved with a woman that isn't a believer. It hurt too much the first time. Besides, Ashley is just borrowing a room at my place until we...I mean, she can get a few things worked out. Then she'll move into a place of her own, when she can find one."

"We, huh? Sounds to me like you're already taking a fancy to this girl."

"It's not like that. Yes she is a nice girl, but there is a problem in town and she needs to stay out of sight for awhile. That's all."

"Stay out of sight! My gracious Scott, are you getting into something illegal because of this girl?"

"No, no. You've got it all wrong. Let me explain." Scott proceeded to tell his Aunt about Ashley, Brett, and the things that the sheriff was worried about. Lilly took it instride. While she put up a front of being a simple country girl, he knew his Aunt was very sharp. As a child he learned at an early age to not even try to fool the woman. She was much to fast for him. He laid it all out as best as he could before falling silent.

"Land sakes. What is this world coming to? People have to worry about being spied on by their own government, while they can't even control what is happening on the streets, day after day." She looked thoughtfully at Scott for a minute before speaking again. "Scott, I'm glad to hear you're not getting into any kind of trouble. I mean if the sheriff asks you to give this young lady a home for a bit, well that's one thing. But I've been listening to the way you've been talking about her. I don't want you to go through the same kind of thing again."

"Aunt Lilly, I don't want it to happen either. She IS a nice girl, I think you'd like her, but after last time I'm not going to let things go that far with someone who doesn't believe."

"Scott, you may be a man, but there is something you still have to learn about life. The heart doesn't always agree with the brain. If you aren't careful, you will get hurt again, and I worry about that."

"Not to worry, Ma'am. As soon as the sheriff says the danger is past, I will personally take her to town and help get her settled. Then I'll have my house back all to myself."

"I hope so, son. I hope so."



After Curtis had finally gone home just before curfew, Ashley sat in the livingroom of Scott's home and thought about everything she had learned over the past few weeks. She had no doubt that Gram would have approved of most of the people she had met. She would have loved listening to the story Curtis told about being saved from a life on the streets. Scott she would have adored. He was the prefect gentleman that Gram always promised her was out there waiting to be found by her. Someone who would do his best for her at all times. And that sheriff. If there was ever a man who could scare someone half to death with a single glance, it was him. The man wasn't just big, he was massive. Not an once of fat on him that she could see, he was just BIG. Yet she had never met a man so peacefully disposed in her life. And certainly he showed her more than a little kindness. When he could have arrested her for having a gun, he was more interested in the skinhead that she and Scott had brought in. To be honest, he didn't do it for her sake. He did it for Scott, but still he didn't have to do it. It seemed the more she found out about these people, the more she was reminded of Gram and her ways. It was a good feeling. Like being at home in a strange place.

She stood and walked into the shower in her bedroom. For a couple of minutes she stood looking at herself critically in the mirror. She did look a lot different than she did just a year ago. And even being as honest with herself as she could, she had to admit to herself that all of the physical changes were for the better. She had never looked this way before. She wondered if what Curtis had said had anything to do with the way Scott treated her. He did seem to like her, but never laid a hand on her. He was always polite as if they were dating. But he simply wouldn't go to the next step. At first she had considered that maybe she just wasn't Scott's type. But after what Curtis had said, well, it explained some things. She finally decided that if anything were to happen, she would have to make the first move. Not that she was ready to jump into bed with him. She hadn't done that with anyone yet. But she felt deep down that he just might be the one. Her mind made up, she got undressed and climbed into bed.

It was on the day following Barry's meeting with the sheriff that the phone rang. It was only mildly surprising, since phone service was still working from time to time. As usual, Mrs. Campbell answered the phone.

"Harry. How nice to hear from you. How are you doing?" She said. After a moment of listening she spoke into the receiver. "Well, I'll be sure to tell him. I know he will be happy to hear from you. If the phone keeps working I'll have him give you a call. Tell your Mrs. that I said hello." And then she hung up the instrument.

She had known and even expected that Brett would be in listening range, as he always seemed to be, so she had kept her remarks neutral for that reason. She then walked into the living room and found both Brett and Barry sitting there, planning out where they would go on the next days job search.

"Barry. I just got a call from a mutual friend of ours. You remember Harry, don't you?"

"Yes Ma'am, I do."

"Well it seems he has something for you to do. Assuming you're interested."

Being fully aware of the sheriff's first name Barry was quick on the uptake. "Of course I'm interested. Did he say what the job might be?"

"No. He didn't mention that to me, but he does seem to want you to get in touch with him as soon as you can."

"Thank you, Mrs. Campbell. If you don't mind, I'll call him back right away."

"Please, help yourself."

Barry went to the phone and picked it up. He played with it for a few moments and then hung it up and announced, "Well, it looks like the phone company is still having problems. I can't even get a dial tone. I guess I'll walk over to his place and see what he wants."

"I'll drive you, if you want." He offered. In truth he wanted to see if this Harry person was the one supplying the meat.

"That's alright, he isn't far from here. I can make it in half an hour or so. Thanks anyway."

"Really, it's no problem. Like I said, folks have to look out for each other these days."

"Thanks again, but I really don't need the ride, and we wouldn't want you to waste your gas on something that might be little or nothing. I'll handle it." Without waiting for Brett to come up with another reason to accompany him, he picked up his tool box and walked out the front door.

"Well, was it something I said?" Brett asked Mrs. Campbell.

"Oh hush, Brett. Barry is one of the kindest men I know. If he said it wasn't necessary, believe him. It wasn't."

Somewhat miffed by being excluded from the meeting, Brett sat back in his chair and began to continue to plan out where to supposedly look for work on the next day. What surprised him was when the phone rang again not five minutes later. Mrs. Campbell again answered it and had a short conversation with a woman who lived down the street from her. From what he could pick up, it was mostly about gardening and the current state of affairs in the world. But that wasn't what concerned him.

It was strange that just moments ago Barry couldn't get a dial tone, and now the phone was working fine. It made him wonder. He waited patiently for her to finish and then leave the room. He then walked over to the phone, and picked it up. Holding it to his ear, the dial tone was as clear as it could be. Maybe the service had had a brief interruption, and maybe Barry was faking it. But why would he do that? He held his piece and returned to his supposed job search without comment, but he was beginning to have serious doubts about the situation. He knew that he hadn't yet suggested anything that would force Barry to commit to being on his side, and that meant that so far there wasn't anything for anyone to get upset about. Still the incident concerned him. He supposed that he would just have to wait it out and see what Barry had to say on his return. One thing for certain. He knew Barry wouldn't come walking up to the front door with a side of beef on his back and suggest going for a ride. Maybe this 'Harry' person was his contact, and he was trying to protect his identity. That would make sense. He knew he had no choice. He had to wait, but because nothing illegal had been done, he was in the clear. Now he just had to make sure that nothing led back to Commander Robins.

It was well over two hours before Barry turned up again. He was smiling and told Mrs. Campbell that 'Harry' had a job for him, and it should pay fairly well. True in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't much. However he could manage to help his wife pay for some of the food she had been eating at her parents house and maybe even help get a few things for his children. After he paid a little something to Mrs. Campbell for the room he was using. She refused, of course, but after he spent some time arguing with her she finally agreed to accept just a few dollars for the room.

"Barry, I thank you for the concern, but you still have a family to care for, and this house was paid off before my husband died. I don't really need it, but I know you don't feel right living here for free. So I'll accept only one days rent from you. And you hush up. I don't want to hear anything more about it. Family first, as I always say. I can wait."

The pair of them were quite convincing. Even Brett was having trouble deciding if they were for real, or just putting on a show for his benefit. He waited for a while before pulling Barry to the side to ask him about it.

"That must have been quite a job for you to get done so quickly and be paid for so fast." Brett said.

"Well, that wasn't the entire truth. Harry, my friend has decided to go along with this plan. But there is a slight problem. He wants all fifty gallons, after all farm equipment are real gas hogs.. I thought it would be better to give it to him to make the next trade go down easier than ruin the whole deal over a few of gallons."

"What about the money?"

"Well, you have to admit, I haven't been entirely dishonest with you. I did have some money set aside, I even offered to help with the gas, if you remember. But if we show up here with a bunch of gas, with no excuse about how we could afford it, there might be questions that we don't want to answer. Know what I mean?"

Brett thought about it. It made sense to him, but there was still the question about the phone. He decided that he would keep his questions to himself for now and play along. If Barry were telling the truth, there was no problem. If not, it might help to give him a warning before things went too far.

"I see what you're saying. Yeah, that was a good idea. But next time give me a little heads up on what is going on, alright?"

"Sure I will. I just didn't have the chance right now." He paused and looked around to see if anyone was listening before going on. "Tell me something. Can your car handle the weight of a side of beef on the way out, and fifty gallons of gas on the return trip?"

"Don't worry about that. My car may not look like much, but she has it where it counts." Now Brett looked around to be certain they were alone. "Where are we going to make the pick up?"

"My friend will meet us on the outskirts of town, when we are ready. You just let me know when that is."

Again the thought of the phone problems came to Brett's mind. "Since the phone seems to be working today, at least off and on, I'll try to call him in a little while. We'll arrange the meeting then."

"Alright, let me know."

"You'll be the first." He stopped for a moment, and asked, "How come you couldn't call that guy? It wasn't five minutes after you left, and someone called Mrs. Campbell and they talked for a good fifteen or twenty minutes."

Barry searched for something to say. "I couldn't tell you. I'm no lineman. I guess it was just one of those things."

Brett eyed him suspiciously. He knew that in his line of work, nothing could be taken as it seemed. "I guess so. Well, I'll make that call in a bit, after everyone clears out of the living room."

Knowing that his cover was in danger Barry decided to just play it cool. "That sounds like a good idea. But listen, with a car full of meat or gas, we don't want to get stopped. So let's try to arrange this for some morning when we can get out and back without worrying about curfew."

Brett smiled at him. "Sure thing." He then turned and headed towards his room.

Barry couldn't help the feeling that something was wrong. It seemed Brett was having second thoughts. He needed to tell the sheriff.



Scott returned home on the second day, as he said he might. He was taken off guard when Ashley came out of the barn and greeted him by hugging him tightly.

"Hi there. I missed you." She told him as she released him and stepped back.

"It would seem so. Didn't Curtis come by?" He asked.

"Oh yes, he came around yesterday. We had a nice long talk. Tell me something. Is everyone around here a Christian?"

"Most of us. Some aren't. But we all get along just fine. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. It just seems like everyone around here are like Gram was. It's kind of hard to get used to that. Back home everyone was out for themselves. It's not like that around here. People seem to care for each other more."

"Being Christian is a major part of it, I'll admit. But out here we have to look after one another. If something were to happen, like say a hurricane or something help is going to be a long time in coming. The kind of 911 help you get in the city isn't possible most of the time. Some of these farmers and ranchers live a long ways out of town. It would take rescue workers a while to reach the place. So when there is a major storm or something we check on each other."

"You'd think that people would be like that everywhere. Even in the city when things go wrong, like a blackout or something, people need each other. I just don't understand why some people have to be so mean to everyone else."

"I remember from my high school science class an experiment someone did with rats. When they put a few rats in a cage and gave them plenty of food and water, everything was fine. Then they added more rats, but didn't increase the food or water. Competition between them for what was available started to get rough. Then when they added even more of them under the same conditions the rats started to kill each other for what they needed. Scientists figured it is the same with people. When you have too many trying to get their hands on limited supplies, they start to go crazy and will attack each other and even kill one another for those supplies."

"I can't say I feel bad about what happened to the rats, but I know you're right about the people." Involuntarily Ashley's mind went back to the day she was forced out of her home. "I've seen that happen. It's scary."

"That's what happens when people don't know The Lord. Don't get me wrong. Under enough pressure, anyone will crack. But Christians have God on their side, and that makes the difference."

"How so?"

"We know that he will always be there to help us when we really need it. Like that skinhead. I don't believe for a second that it was an accident, chance, fate or anything like that, that made Curtis stop by that day. It was The Lord who made him decide to stop here before going to his parents house. Because he was here, I didn't have to kill that guy."

"Scott. None of my guns were loaded, and you were standing next to them. If you had tried to use one of them..." Her voice trailed off as she thought about what could have happened.

"You forget. I had been cleaning them. I knew they weren't loaded, so I didn't count on them. You see, with someone like him after they get whatever stuff they can get from you, they go for any money you might have. That would have been his mistake." He said.

"What do you mean?"

"When he asked for the money, I would have pulled out my wallet, like this." Scott reached into his back pocket and pulled out what Ashley saw as a somewhat worn billfold. The she noticed it had a hole in it and a snap on one side. Scott opened the snap with his free hand and showed her the contents. Inside was a small two barreled pistol. "I would have pointed this at him and given him both barrels. Thanks to Curtis, I didn't have to do it."

Ashley shook her head at the sight. "Scott, I get the feeling that you are to be ready for just about anything. A girl would feel safe with you at her side."

"Maybe some would, but not all." He answered sadly.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Curtis mentioned you were divorced. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"It's alright. That was a while ago. I wanted her to stay, but she just couldn't put up with the competition."

"Competition? Were you doing something you shouldn't have?"

"Not exactly." Scott had a feeling of where Ashley was going with this whole thing. First she hugged him like that, and she hadn't gotten far from him during the conversation as they had been moving back to the house. He felt it was only right that she know exactly where he was coming from. "She couldn't accept the idea that God is as important to me as He is. So she left me."

"I'm sorry about that. I really am. I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"It's okay. I just won't make the same mistake again. A Christian should always marry someone who shares their faith. It is easier when two people are traveling the same direction."

"I see. I guess you're right, I just never thought about it."

Before they could speak any more, a car came around the nearby curve in the road. They both looked over at it. It pulled up to a stop near them. The Sheriff had come to pay a visit.

"Howdy, Sheriff." Scott called out as the car door opened. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi Scott. Actually there isn't anything you can do for me at the moment. I came to speak with this young lady friend of yours." He said as he walked over to them.

"Me? What did I do?" Was Ashley's question. She still feared being brought up on charges for not reporting her grandmother's death. "Am I in trouble?"

"Not that I know of." He answered with a smile. "Why? Is there something I should know about?"

"No. I just get a little worried when someone wearing a badge and a gun wants to ask me questions." Was her answer.

"Well little lady, I'm not here for you, but I do need you to help me I think. Assuming you are willing."

"Sheriff, I'd be happy to help you anyway I can."

"Don't say that until you hear what I have to ask you."

"That doesn't sound good. What's going on?"

"I'm sure you remember that fella you said was a government agent. Well, I've been poking around a little, and I've had one of my deputies doing the same thing without him knowing about it. Just kind of keeping an eye on him. One thing we don't need around here is more people from Washington sticking their noses where they don't belong."

"That sounds like a good idea to me. So what do you want from me?"

"It seems that this Simpson guy might have just caught on that he was being watched. He's becoming a little more cautious than he might have been. That's where you come in. You know him, and he knows you. And I'm thinking that since you do know him, you're likely to know what he might do next."

"Whatever it is, it will be all lies, I can tell you that much."

"I've come to realize that already. But if what my deputy thinks is true, he may have just given himself away to Simpson. What I need is someone who can convince Simpson that my deputy isn't there to do anything to him. I'm thinking that maybe a person who knows him and who might just owe me a favor would be willing to lend a hand in the matter."

Ashley didn't like the sound of that idea, and said so. "Sheriff, I hope you aren't going to ask me to come on to him. I can't stand that guy. To tell you the truth, I think he would look his best as the guest of honor at a funeral."

The Sheriff smiled at Ashley's comment. "Given what I've learned so far, you might just be right. But, no. I'm not here to ask you to be some kind of Mata Hari. But it would be a help if you could just kind of show up and convince Simpson that my man is trustworthy."

"I'm sorry Sheriff. I wouldn't have the first idea of how to do that. And I'm not sure I would want to do it. You don't know Brett like I do."

"I hope I can convince you otherwise. Miss Ashley think about it this way. Do you want him hanging around here for who knows how long, or would you prefer for him to go away?"

"When you put it like that, I wish he'd go away and never come back."

"I'm starting to feel the same way myself. But I'm going to need some very special help to make that happen. I'm sorry to say that the only help I can think of, and that stands any chance of working, is you."

"That's not fair, Sheriff. Isn't there any other way to do it?"

"I could shoot him, but then the government would just send someone else."

Startled by the statement Ashley looked at him. He smiled and winked to assure her that he was joking with her.

"What do you have in mind?" Ashley asked.

"Just what I said. I think it would be a great deal of help if you could convince him that my deputy is just another guy around town. Nothing more."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"That's what I'm here to talk about. If we can come up with a plan to fool him, then maybe he will do something he shouldn't, and I can arrest him. Or at least make him leave the area. But I need someone that he wouldn't suspect of trying to trick him. The only one I can think of that meets that description is you."

Ashley was starting to feel cornered. She didn't want to do anything like this. She wanted to stay as far away from Brett as she could. Still, these were good people. These were the kind of people that Gram would have welcomed into her home, so how could she refuse? The Sheriff had let her go when he could have jailed her for carrying the gun Scott had given her on that day. She honestly felt an obligation to help. But getting close to Brett? How could she get close to a low-life like him? The man was disgusting. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew the time had come to make a stand and decide once and for all exactly where she stood.

"I should point out that while you are working for me, I can and will give you an appointment as a law enforcement officer." The Sheriff said. "That means you will be authorized to carry a gun if you want it."

"I don't know, Sheriff. Brett is the worst person I've ever known. I'm not sure if I could do it."

"Miss Ashely, when we talked a little while back, didn't you tell me that when he saw you he started to come on to you?"

Ashley thought about it. The Sheriff was such a friendly man. He was easy to talk to. They had spent a long time speaking in his office. It was very possible she had told him of their encounter.

"Truthfully Sheriff, I don't know if he was interested in me, or was just trying to find out something he could use against me somehow."

"Ashley, you underestimate yourself." He said to her kindly. "You yourself said that you didn't realize how much you have changed since the food started to run out. Do you remember asking me look at you?"

"I didn't realize that I was so different now, but that doesn't mean that he wanted me. And I wasn't very nice to him either."

"As I said, you underestimate yourself. You are a very attractive young woman. And Simpson thinks he is God's gift to women from what I've learned. I don't think it would take very much at all to convince him that you've changed your mind."

"Don't you think he would find it strange if I just suddenly showed up and threw myself at him?"

"Not if we work it right. That's what we need to talk about, if you are willing."

She thought about it. The idea of getting close to him made her skin crawl. She was about to ask him for time to think it over when Scott spoke.

"You know folks, this kind of talk is always dry work. Why don't we step inside, have a seat and something to drink while we discuss it."

"We?" Ashley looked at him.

"Well you don't think the Sheriff is just going to throw you to the lions without some help, do you? Besides, looking after you is becoming a habit. And someone needs to keep you out of trouble. Let's get inside."



The message Brett had received from Commander Robins the next morning, was a piece of welcome news, but if he was right about Barry, it couldn't come at a worse time. Everything was ready for him to make the gas pick up in exchange for the beef. He only had to get Barry to the newly built fuel depot. After that, he just had to draw Barry in a little deeper to get the information he needed. But he had almost decided to stat to distance himself from Barry. He just wasn't sure any longer if he could take the chance. The incident with the phone was just a small thing, but that was how he had stayed alive as long as he had, by noticing the small things. Maybe he was wrong, but without proof to the contrary he would do this first deal with Barry, to cement his position as a person who could get the ever more valuable gas, and then find someone else to help lead him to the cattle. Suddenly there was a knock on the door, which Mrs. Campbell went to answer.

"Yes. can I help you?"

"I hope so Ma'am. I'm trying to find my cousin. I was told he might be here."

Brett thought he recognized the voice and quietly moved to the corner of the room where he could more clearly hear what was said.

"I suppose that is possible. I have a few guests staying with me right now. May I ask his name?"

"Tyler. His name is Barry Tyler."

"Oh. You're his cousin? Then come on in and I'll see if I can find him for you."

Footsteps came into the foyer and while one person stopped there, Mrs. Campbell went into another room looking for Barry. Brett peeked around the corner carefully to see who had arrived. He saw a young lady standing with her back to him. Something was familiar about her. He walked into the front room to be certain.

"Can I help you Miss?"

She turned and her face took on a look of complete surprise. "Brett. What are you doing here?"

"Ashley?"

At this point, she remembered what she had been told by the Sheriff. 'Don't over do it, but make him feel like you are actually glad to see him. Make him feel at ease.' Ashley walked over to Brett and hugged him. Somehow she managed to conceal her revulsion. Then pushing him to arms lenght she said, "It's good to see a familiar face again."

"I never expected to see you around here." Brett said truthfully. "I thought you were caring for your grandmother."

The smile she had fled from Ashley's face. "Gram passed away a few weeks ago. Then looters forced me out of our home."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know you two were close. So what are you doing here?"

"My father grew up nearby. I thought I could find my cousin and try to start over. But now, I don't know what to do. His house burned down, and I'm at a loss of what to do. So I thought the least I could do was to see Barry. Maybe he can give me some ideas on what to do."

Mrs. Campbell found Barry outside working on fixing a loose hinge on her back door.

"Barry, there is something is going on that you need to know about." She announced.

Putting down the screwdriver he was using her looked at her. "What's that Ma'am?"

"A young lady is at the front door claiming to be your cousin. The problem is she is asking for Barry Tyler."

"Really. That is strange. Did she give you a name?"

Mrs. Campbell flushed slightly. "Don't get old Barry. The memory is one of the first things to go. I forgot to ask her for one."

"That's alright. If she is asking for me by that name she must be from the office."

"I don't think so, Barry. I know your female officers. She isn't one of them"

"You don't say. You're right. I better check it out."

"Barry. Brett was in the living room when I came out here. Watch yourself in there."

He smiled at her. "Always. It's part of my job."

Together they reentered the house, and found Brett and Ashley as she was telling him how she hoped her cousin would be able to help her.

"I hope I didn't take too long." Said Mrs. Campbell as they entered the room. "Here he is."

Ashley looked around and then moved to Barry with a cheerful greeting.

"Barry. How good it is to see you again. I know it's been a long time, but do you remember me? I'm Ashley."

"Ashley. My goodness how you've changed. How are you doing? How are your folks?"

Again she told how her parents and grandmother had died. She continued by telling him why she had come to town. To make certain that Barry understood how she had become involoved she finished by saying

"Anyway after I found out about your house burning down I checked with people at the hardware store. I thought they would be the best ones to ask since you do that kind of work. They told me you had a job working for a man named Harry and told me where to find him. He told me I could find you here. I'm sorry you've had such bad luck lately. I mean losing your home is awful. I know since I lost mine."

"My goodness people. Are we going to stand out here playing catchup all day long?" Mrs Campbell asked. "All of you go into the living room and have a seat. I'll fix some tea and then we can have a nice visit."

"No offense, but none for me, Mrs. Campbell." Brett said. "I've been cooped up inside all day, and could use a little fresh air. I think I'll go for a walk."

"Certainly Brett. No offense taken. We all need a nice little walk once in awhile."

"Thank you Ma'am. I'll be back in a little while. Barry, don't forget we have an appointment tomorrow morning. Ashley, it is good to see you again. I hope you'll be around for awhile. We can talk over old times." As an afterthought he added, "You know, you sure are looking good these days. Maybe we can do something together later on."

Ashley, unused to people saying things like that to her, blushed slightly but said nothing.

With that Brett left the house. He had to think, and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it there. Having Ashley turn up was certainly unexpected, but it gave him reason to pause in his thoughts about Barry. He had known her a long time. She was a simple girl. Not one to get involved in anything that was questionable, let alone anything illegal. He knew that she had been to this area before. Back in high school while he was trying to get together with one of her friends he had been forced to listen to her talk to her friends about deer and other animals she had seen with her parents while they had been camping near this area. He also had learned at that time that her father had indeed been from aroud here, that was why they went camping here. He smiled when he remembered how he wwondered how a girl as big as she was could spend so much time walking around the countryside and still be so heavy. Well she sure wasn't heavy anymore. She lookd good. Maybe he had made a mistake by not getting together with her back then. But that was something he could correct now. And with someone like her, it wouldn't be all that hard. She was sure to fall for someone who complmented her enough now on how she looked today. No, he finally believed, she wasn't a threat. The fact that she was related to Barry put him a little more at ease as well. If she was like that, then he was likely to be just as trusting. Those kind of things tended to run in families. The phone incident could have been just what it seemed to be. The phones were a hit or miss kind of thing these days. And he did still need to do his first deal with Barry's help, as he had planned. That would give him the chance to check Barry out. If he asked too many questions or the wrong questions, he could still end this before tipping his hand. Brett realized that he really had nothing to worry about at this point, and so for now, everything could continue as planned. Anything else would have to wait until he had more information.

Early the next day Brett and Barry got into his car and went down the road, following Barry's directions.

"Brett, I have to tell you something before we get to where we are going. In case you've never done something like this I have to tell you a side of frozen beef is pretty heavy. And I'm sure you know that fifty gallons of anything is pretty hefty too. So I've asked a friend of mine to lend a hand today."

"I don't know about that. Why didn't you mention it before?"

"I was going to, yesterday. But the cousin Ashley showed up, and you went for a walk. After that there wasn't a chance to say anything. I mean Ashley had to hear about everything that has been going on since we were last together. I hope you don't mind. Buut you and I would have a hard time with that much weight by ourselves."

"I guess you're right. I didn't really think about it. Can we trust him?"

"That's the other thing. The man suppling the meat doesn't know if he can trust us. He wants this guy along for the ride to keep an eye on his property." Barry pointed to a small barn on the side of the road that showed up as they came around a curve. "Pull over here."

Brett did so with his eyes open for any sign that there might be trouble. As they got out of the car, the door to the barn opened and a man came out to meet them.

"Brett, this is the man who's going to be giving us a hand today."

The man walked over and held out his hand.

"Hi. My name is Scott."

Brett took Scott's hand and shook it, while he looked him over. Scott was wearing a pair of jeans with a red checked shirt, which was slightly rolled up over his forearms to expose them. To Brett he looked for all the world like a typical southern redneck. What Brett didn't realize is that just because he saw it on T.V. or in the movies that didn't make it true. After deciding that Scott wasn't an immediate threat he spoke to him.

"Hi. I'm Brett. I have to tell you that I didn't know you were going to be involved in this deal until just a couple of minutes ago. And I'm not sure I want to have you along on this thing."

"Fine." Scott said. "You don't want me, I'll just take the beef and go on my way."

"You can't do that."

"Sure I can. That meat doesn't belong to you. And the man it does belong to trusts me, not you."

Brett thought quickly. He didn't like this, but it made sense to him. Nobody in their right mind would just hand over valuable property without some kind of insurance.

"Okay, okay, I know what you mean. It just came as a surprise to me. So where is it?"

"Over there, in the back of the truck." Scott answered.

Brett walked over to the truck and looked in the back. He was unprepared for what he found. Wrapped in a cloth was a frozen half of a cow. He turned to Scott.

"How are we going to fit that in my car? I thought it would be cut up."

"That's your problem. We aren't running a butcher shop. You asked for a side of beef and that's what you got. I'm just here to make sure everything happens like it's supposed to happen." Scott sounded almost bored, but there was no doubt he was serious. "For that matter, have you thought about how you are going to haul fifty gallons of gas in that thing?" He asked, pointing to the car.

"I figured in the trunk and the back seat."

Scott shook his head. "How are you going to divide a fifty gallon drum?"

Brett clearly hadn't planned on this. He thought about it and made a suggestion.

"Let me drive the truck. That way we can get the deal done, and do something with the gas when we get back here."

"Now wait a minute." Scott protested. "I wasn't expecting to use my gas for this. You were supposed to supply transportation."

"Well I can't fit either of them in my car. We have to use the truck. Don't worry. We can get gas for your truck at the same time."

"Alright. But you better be right about getting gas for me. I'm not going to be stealing gas from the guy who came up with the meat."

"I am. Where are the keys?"

"Here." Scott tossed a key ring to Brett. "And you might want to hurry up. That thing won't stay frozen forever."

The three of them got into the truck. Barry and Brett in the front, with Scott in the back. It wasn't long before they were well on their way, and Brett started to speak to Barry.

"You know, the people we are going to see are expecting only two of us. When we get there let me do the talking. Alright?"

"That's fine with me, but you need to understand that Scott isn't going to be very trustful of people he's never met. And that includes you."

"I can understand that, but you need to make sure he doesn't say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I have to do the negotiations." Brett was concerned. Things weren't going as planned. These rednecks weren't supposed to be this smart.

By the time they were approaching the fuel depot a short time later Brett had figured out how to explain the extra man. It was simple. He was there for extra muscle. After all, it was like it had said, fifty gallons of gas was heavy. He was starting to feel a little better about it all. This Scott person did have a good reason to be there, and if it weren't for his pickup, it would be difficult to transport that much gas in his car. Brett slowly pulled up to the front gate and stopped as a man in uniform signaled him to to do so. Leaning out the window he smiled and called out to him.

"Hi there. We're here to see your C.O."

"Yeah. Sure. What's your name?" The man looked almost bored, except his cold hard eyes took in every movement in the truck. On his hip he carried a pistol, and in the guard shed he had come out of was another man with an automatic weapon, who was also closely watching them.

"Simpson. Brett Simpson."

The man looked at a clipboard he was carrying. After scanning it for a moment he spoke again.

"Okay, I see your name. Who are these two?"

"They are with me to help with the load."

"I didn't ask that. Who are they?"

"I'm Barry Tyler, and this my friend Scott. We brought the meat."

"Tyler, Tyler." The guard said absently as he scanned the board again. "Yeah, you're here. What about your friend?"

Scott spoke up at this point. "I'm just here to help out. That's all. You won't find my name on there."

"If your name isn't on the list, you don't get in."

"Fine. This thing is starting to defrost anyway. Let's go home guys. We'll have a bar-b-cue or something."

That took the man off guard. He knew well that Commander Robins wanted this deal to go down. Thinking quickly, he supposed that some allowances had to be made to insure the deal. Details could be taken care of later.

"Alright. I guess it's okay. Take this thing to the building on the left as you go through the gate. I'll join you in a minute."

With that he turned and signaled the man in the shed, and he pushed the button that opened the gate. Brett pulled through and went to the building indicated. He got out and before the guard could reach them he admonished Scott.

"You took a big chance back there. They could have shot you."

"I don't think so. Meat like this is hard to come by these days. They don't want to spoil their chances of getting more. Watch out. Here he comes."

The guard walked right past the truck to the warehouse type building they had parked next to, and opened the door.

"Put it in here." Was all he said.

"Hold on." Scott said. "Seems to me you owe us something."

The guard called two of the other men who worked there. "Bring it out."

Together they first turned a fifty gallon drum onto it's side and rolled it out of the building, and towards the pickup.

"Time to make a swap." The guard said.

"Not yet. Open it up."

"What?"

"That could be fifty gallons of water for all I know. Open it up and let me check it."

"So. You don't trust us?"

"No, I don't. I want to check it myself."

He stared at Scott for a moment with a hard look. "What if we don't?"

Scott stood up, and picked up an old fashioned Jerry can. He popped open the top and pulled out a lighter. "Then we have a bar-b-cue right here and right now."

The guard couldn't believe whai he was seeing. Then something changed in his face. He smiled.

"I wouldn't trust us either." He turned to the other men. "Open it up." The drum was opened.

"Barry. Take this." Scott said, handing him the five gallon can and the lighter. He jumped off the back of the truck, walked over and put his nose to the opening in the drum. He sniffed and then stepped back. "Okay. I'm happy. It's all yours."

The transfer was completed without any further incident. Brett was amazed when Scott asked for and actually recieved five extra gallons for his truck. The guard had even simled at the boldness of his actions. Soon the three of them were headed back the way they had come. Brett had finally stopped shaking and spoke to Barry.

"WHAT is that guys problem? I thought he was going to get us all killed."

"Brett, you have to remember, there has been a lot of stealing and rustling going on around here since the food started to run out. And gas has been even harder to come by. He was just being careful."

"Careful? He was about to set us all on fire over a side of beef. What is wrong with him?"

"Brett. That can was full of water. We weren't in any danger from him, but he had to make them think he meant it."

"Why?"

"To make sure they didn't cheat us."

"I would have appreciated a warning."

They remained silent on the way back to the barn, where Brett and Barry got in his car, and headed back into town.

During the time the men were gone, Ashley found herself with a restlessness she had never known before. She was worried about Scott and Barry. And even in some strange way, she worried about Brett. She didn't want anyone to get hurt. Barry had tried to assure her that it was a simple first contact kind of thing. There was almost no chance of anything happening. It was the almost part worried her. She thought about this and other things as she walked about the house trying to appear as unworried as Mrs. Campbell seemed to be. She would stop and move things into what she believed was their proper place, or she would dust a tabletop with a cloth. Anything to keep her busy. She was also strangely excited to be involved in something like this. Even if it was in a small way. She would have the chance to repay these people for their goodness to her. She had paused in the living room once again when she heard Mrs. Campbell speak to her.

"Child, I swear if you keep dusting like that you are going to wear a hole in that table. Why don't you come over here, sit down, and talk with me a spell?"

"I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little worried about what's happening."

"A little? My dear, you are about as jittery as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."

"Aren't you? I mean if something should go wrong, Scott and Barry could be arrested. Maybe worse. How can you be so calm about it?"

"I'll tell you what. You come here, sit down, and quit trying to straighten every picture in the house and we'll talk about it."

Realizing that Mrs. Campbell was right, Ashley allowed herself to be talked into a cup of tea and conversation. After she was somewhat settled in a chair, she continued to speak.

"So how do you do it? How can you stay so peaceful when anything could happen?"

Mrs. Campbell smiled at her before answering. "Darling, there are a lot of things I could say right now. First of all, Barry is a trained law enforcement officer. And one with a few years under his belt to boot. He knows what he is doing. As for Scott, well I've never known anyone quite like him. It seems like almost everything he does is blessed by The Lord. I don't think we need to worry about him. Yes there a many things I could say, but the truth is that I know both of those boys. They are both good Christian men, and they are in The Lords hands. He will watch over them, so we don't have to worry about them."

"How can you say that? I mean suppose you are right. There really is a God. Why should He care about them or anybody? And how can you be so sure?"

"Darling, I think that for a conversation like this one you should call me by my first name. I'm Rachel. And to answer your question, The Lord has many different ways of answering His people when they call on Him. Sometimes it is direct, and others it is a little harder to understand. The one thing that all those answers have in common is that they are always the perfect answer, even if you don't like it or understand it."

"I don't understand you. How can the answer be something you don't like?"

"Because the answer you get is the perfect one to glorify Him, not you or me. You see, that is one of those things that people make mistakes about. A lot of people act like God is some sort of miracle machine. You just stick in the right prayer and whatever you want comes out. It doesn't work that way."

"Okay, I guess I can understand that. But I still have to ask how do you know the answer is the right one?'

Rachel smiled sheepishly and took a sip of tea before answering. "I guess the best answer I can give you is the one The Lord gave to me."

"You mean God actually talked to you?" Ashley found that she was more surprised that she believed what Mrs. Campbell was saying rather than the fact she claimed to have heard directly from God. "What did He say to you?"

"Well, it's not something I'm very proud of, I have to say. But I am grateful for it. He did speak to me once, but you need to understand something. The Bible tells us that each and every believer is given what we call 'Gifts of the Spirit'. Now there are many different gifts. Some people are given the gift of prophecy. Some speak in tongues. Some have other gifts. It is up to each of us to ask The Father what our gift, or gifts are. In my case I learned that one of my gifts is what we call 'helps'. It isn't a flashy type thing. As a matter of fact when you do it right, nobody is certain you've done anything at all. Well, when I rrealized that was one of my gifts, I got mad."

"You got mad at God? Isn't that dangerous?"

Again Mrs. Campbell smiled. "Not really. At least not as long as you are honest with Him. God is long suffering and quick to forgive. He doesn't see things like we do. In a way, it's like we are just small children and He is our loving father. He tells us only what we are mature enough to undrstand. Just like my father did, and I'm sure your's did as well. At any rate, when I found out that one of my gifts was 'helps' I felt like I had been cheated somehow. I started to complain to The Lord about it. I remember saying things like I can do prophecy. I can speak in tongues. I can do this. I can do that. I, I, I, and so it went for the better part of forty-five minutes. Finally, it got to the point that I'd run out of breathe and was starting to repeat myself. That was when He spoke to me."

"That must have been scary. I mean was there thunder and lightening and all of that?"

Rachel chuckled. "Hardly. To tell you the truth, if I hadn't been alone I don't think I would have heard Him at all. God does that. We call it a 'still small voice' but it's never wrong. That's how you know it was from Him. In my case, I was getting ready to start all over again when He spoke to me."

"What did He say?" Ashley expected to hear some kind of detailed plan for Mrs. Campbell's life or some great piece of wisdom. It was a while before she knew that the answer was great wisdom.

"He said, 'It's not about you. It's about Me.' and I have to tell you it drove me right to my knees asking for forgiveness of my pride."

"I don't get it."

"Well Ashley, it's this way. I felt that I was important. I wanted to do what I wanted, not what He wanted. Every complaint I had was based on me and what I wanted. But the answer was the right one. Life's not all about me, or any of us. It's all about The Lord." She paused to take the last sip of tea from her cup and then continued. "This is His world. We just live here for a little bit. It's all going according to His plan, and there is nothing we can do to change it."

"So what does that mean for Scott and Barry?"

"It means that if it is His will, everything will go just like they hope it will. Or as God wants it to go. So there is no need to worry. He has it all under control. Now. Are you going to drink that tea, or just let it get cold and we have to throw it out?"

Ashley smiled at Mrs. Campbell. Again the woman was right. The tea that had been steaming when she sat down was now cooled enough to allow her to drink it. She thought about her concerns and her words as she took a small drink from the cup. There was much to what she said. Still she was bothered.

"So Rachel, that's why you're not worried?" She asked.

"I do confess I'm a bit concerned about them. I've prayed for them and that's about all I can do for them. The rest is in The Lord's hands, and all of my worrying won't do the first bit of good, so I try not to."

"That's one of the things I don't get. I mean if God hears your prayers, why wouldn't He just tell you what He is going to do and put your mind at ease?"

"Free will. You see, when The Father created the world and man, He gave man free will. Men and women have the right to choose for themselves what they will or won't do. God respects that right, even when we make the wrong choice. He also allows us to pay the conciquences when we choose the wrong thing, because that is what we chose. It must be terribly hard on Him to see us make the same mistakes over and over again in each generation.

In this case, someone at the place they are going to may make a bad decision. Since God respects our right of free will, the thing will play out according to how it happens."

"Well if God knows the future, as I've heard a lot of people say He does, then He could warn good people of bad things ahead, right?"

"I'm afraid you're not looking at all the possibilities. God knows all possible futures. He knows that right here and right now I serve Him. He also knows that something could happen tomorrow, or even today that I might see as a reason to serve someone or something else. But it is my choice as to what I choose at any one moment. If He tried to warn me of all the things that might happen, most of them would or would not have happened by the time He got done telling me. As I said, He tells us what we are mature enough to understand." She paused a moment. "Ashley dear, you could have chosen to just ignore me and keep moving furniture and dusting the polish off of every stick of it in the house. But you chose to have this little talk. Now which one of those two was directed by God for you to do?"

"I made my own choice, nobody told me what to do."

"And that is free will. By choosing to speak with me, I think you've learned a little more about The Lord. I think that maybe you've grown just a little bit closer to Him. I know that's what He wants for everyone, but like you just did, we all must make the choice for ourselves. God wants people to serve Him by choice, not by force." Rachel suddenly turned her head in the direction of the garage on the side of the house. Listening for something that Ashley couldn't hear she turned back to her and said, "It sounds like the boys are home. Time to get back under cover for Brett's sake. We'll talk again later, if you choose to do so."

Ashley decided that she really didn't feel like dealing with Brett after he and Barry returned to the house. She excused herself and began to just wander around outside for a little fresh air before curfew. She had much to think about. As a child her parents had tried to teach her about God, she remembered. But the one they had talked about sounded like he was spying on people, waiting for them to make a mistake so He could hammer them with a club. They had also made it sound as if she had no choice in the matter. She simply HAD to believe, or else.

Gram had been another matter entirely. She had never pushed Ashley into believing. She just lived her life according to what she had thought was the way God wanted her to do. Gram had been such a sweet old lady in the truest sense of the term. Except for the time they had been told of her parents death, she had never known Gram to have a harsh word for anyone. And she too had always said that serving God had been the only choice for her and her husband. At the time Ashley had thought that she was talking about the same kind or 'do it or else' choice that her parents had talked about. And she had rejected that kind of force being used on her.

But now, things looked differently to her. These people like Scott, Curtis, and even Rachel had spoken of a different kind of choice. One that allowed a person to make up their own mind. In a way it was still the same, but then again not the same. Each of them had explained to her that she was free to make her own decision, but they had also warned that people would pay for the wrong one. It wasn't like God was vindictive, but He was just. It was as if she were driving and chose to speed. It was her choice, but she would still have to pay the ticket if she got pulled over. It was a new way of thinking, and there was much to think about. On one hand everyone talked about free will. On the other people spoke of The Law given to Moses. The two seemed to be incompatible to her. The more she thought about it as she walked, the more she grew to realize she was trying to make up her mind without enough information.

It was starting to get dark as she finally made her way back to the house. She had remained very quiet throughout the evening meal and afterward, remaining lost in her own thoughts. Later when Mrs. Robinson prepared to go to bed, Ashley caught up with her and pulled her to the side with a question.

"Mrs. Ca...I mean Rachel, I know this might sound a little strange, but would you happen to have a Bible I could borrow for just tonight? I promise I'll give it back first thing in the morning."

Mrs. Campbell smiled and crooked her finger indicating that Ashley should follow her. She went to a hall closet, opened it and reached up to the top shelf from where pulled down a Bible. Turning she told Ashley, "Here. This is yours now. No need to give it back."

"I couldn't take your Bible. I know how much it means to people like you. Christians, I mean."

"It's alright dear. Most Christians seem to wind up with more than one of them. My personal Bible is on the night stand next to my bed. I like to read a little most nights before I sleep. This is a spare, and I wouldn't dream of keeping it from you. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No. Not really. I just wanted to learn something about The Law that was supposedly given to Moses. I've been hearing a lot about choice, intent of the heart, and free will, so that seemed to be a good place to start."

"It is a very good place to start to learn the basics." Rachel said as she nodded in approval. "You'll find out about it in the early part of the Old Testament. If you have any questions, I'll be more than happy to help you with them in the morning." She then patted Ashley's cheek lovingly and with a quick "Good night" made her way to bed.

After Ashley thanked her for the gift, she went down the hallway to a small area just off the living room where Barry and Brett sat talking about where to go the next day in their job search. She found an over stuffed chair in one corner with a light next to it, and sitting down began to read. As she did so, she came to a part in the book where the Hebrews had made a golden idol and were worshiping it. Ashley wondered to herself how they could do that. After all, if God was really there and had done everything the book said He had, why would these people turn their backs on Him? It didn't make sense to her. One verse that truly seemed to speak to her was what Moses had said when he found out what had happened.

Exd 32:26 Then Moses stood in the gate of the camp, and said, Who [is] on the LORD'S side? [let him come] unto me. And all the sons of Levi gathered themselves together unto him.

'Let him come to me.' it said. It seemed that this verse was speaking directly to her.

"What's this Ashley? Are you getting religion or something?"

She didn't have to look to hear the sneer in Brett's voice. While she had been reading Brett and Barry had completed their plans for the next days job search, and Brett had noticed her sitting in the chair with the book. He had quietly come up behind her to see what she was doing. His contempt was clearly evident.

"Hello Brett. And the answer is no. I'm not 'getting religion' but in case you haven't noticed these are good people. This book is important to them. It was important to Gram too. I thought that I might learn why they are like this by reading a little of what they believe."

"Well just don't take it too seriously. You can learn a lot more about people from me than you can by reading some musty old book written by smelly shepherds a couple thousand years ago. I'll tell you the truth, they are nice people, but they are so gullible."

"Gullible? What do you call what you did today? You didn't get one drop of that gas, and not a bite of the meat. Sounds to me like you were on the losing end of the deal."

Brett flashed a self satisfied smile and told her, "Maybe not today, but I arranged that deal. The guy who is getting the meat will remember that, and he will come back for more. That's when I start getting something for my trouble. One rancher can't use up that much gas too quickly, but my friend will go through that meat a lot faster than the cowboys around here use the gas."

"So? What good does that do you? If they don't need the fuel then your profit just went out the window."

"Not at all. Next time I sell the gas and use the money to get other things they will be wanting. And of course, I take my profit off the top." He smiled smugly at her again. "Now, don't you think that might just be of interest to you? Having a man around who can get you whatever you want?"


"Brett, you never had the time of day for me before, why would you now?"

"I've always thought you were kind of cute. And now, girl you are a knockout. I just didn't see any interest coming from you, so I thought you weren't interested. If I had thought you were, things might have been different."

That much Ashley knew was true. If she had shown any interest in him she would either would have had a baby by now, or she would have trouble looking him in the eye without feeling filthy. How could this guy think that highly of himself, she couldn't understand. For now, she didn't want to lead him on, but she did want to do what she could to help the sheriff.

"Maybe so, Brett. But that was then and this is now."

"So you have a boyfriend now? I haven't seen him."

"Let's just say I'm keeping my options open."

Brett was convinced that she was playing hard to get. That was fine. He knew how to play that game better than she did.

"That's probably a good idea, but don't forget, if you wait too long the one you decide you want might find someone else."

"I know." Ashley yawned and stretched her arms, noticing that Brett had his eyes on her chest, hoping for a quick peek she assumed. "It's getting late. I'll see you in the morning I suppose. Good night."

It didn't take long the next morning before Brett was telling Barry how he thought that Scott shouldn't come along on the next deal they made.

"Okay, okay, I understand why he pretended that he was going to set us on fire. And I have to admit the bluff worked. But things could have gotten out of hand yesterday. He shouldn't be allowed to come with us again. He's just too unpredictable."

"You realize you're talking about a friend of mine, don't you? Besides, the man who came up with the beef insisted he had to come along to protect his investment."

"But that's the whole thing, right there. Why don't we deal directly with the rancher and leave him out entirely?" Brett saw his first opportunity to get the information Commander Robins wanted and decided to take the chance. "Anyway, you contacted that man, doesn't he trust you?"

"It's not like that. My family doesn't live in town anymore. That makes me more of a risk for him. And nowadays people will turn on their own families some times. He feels he can trust Scott more than me, so I wasn't about to argue and blow the whole deal. Get it?"

"Yeah, yeah I get it, but it just seems to me that there has to be a better way." Brett retorted. "I mean there must be more than one rancher around here willing to make a deal. We can use that to make some money for ourselves."

"No, you don't get it. This whole thing is a matter of trust. My contact trusted Scott. Maybe there is someone else we can deal with, but they will still want someone that they trust to ride shotgun on the deal. Maybe it will be Scott, maybe someone else, but you had better get used to the idea that people don't know you yet. That means they don't trust you. And that means someone like Scott will be along whenever you and I decide to do something like this."

"Alright. I understand. But that doesn't mean I have to like it." Brett looked ahead in the road. "What is that?"

In front of them was a large group of people, most heavily armed, that looked like they had just come from the streets of a major city. Their clothing had symbols on them that stated to one and all that they belonged to a gang. But the particular gang they belonged to was lost on the two men.

"I don't know." Stated Barry. "But I think avoiding them would be a good idea."

"I think you're right." Brett answered. He then turned the car onto a side street, and headed back to the Campbell house.

It was the day before this event that Commander Robins had given the order by the direction of Director Claire, for the foreign troops to allow the gang members to escape from the cities. The reasoning he used was that in order to bring some sense of stability to the cities, the gang members had to go. If that meant that they went into the countryside, so be it. At least there would be calm in the cities. The smaller towns were expected to call on the foreign troops for protection. Nobody expected that they would protect themselves.


After Ashley had awakened on that morning, she wasn't disappointed that Brett had already left for the day. She really didn't want to disappoint the sheriff or anyone else she had met here. But at the same time she didn't know how much more of Brett she could put up with. He was bad enough when he ignored her and tried to get close to her friends, but now that he had seemed to set his sights on her, well that was almost too much to ask. She decided to head out to Scott's house. Even if he didn't know what she should do, maybe Curtis would. They were both good men. It was a pleasant morning, and she found that during the time she had spent in the area she had become much more fit. At one time she would have never even tried to make the walk of a couple of miles to Scott's home. She would have much preferred driving. Now however she found that she actually enjoyed the walk. Not so much for the exercise, but for the exposure to nature. She saw rabbits scurry out of her sight as she approached them. She even paused once to watch an eagle soar high overhead. The gentle wind kept her from becoming too hot during the walk, and she soon realized that she felt more alive than she could ever remember feeling before. She thought about what Gram would have said if she had been here. She would have told Ashley about how wonderous God's creation was and how it was mans resposibility to care for it. The last thing she expected was how she was a little disappointed when she walked up the last gentle slope to reach Scott's place. She was having such a wonderful time, it was a shame it couldn't last longer. She contented herself with the idea of having an equally enjoyable walk back to town.

She found both Scott and Curtis standing in front of the barn door entrance to Scott's home talking about the trip to the fuel depot that Scott had made the day before.

"Hi guys." She called to them as she got close. "Is this a private party, or can anybody join in?"

The two men looked over at her and smiled at the greeting. "Morning." Scott called out to her. "To what do we owe the the honor of this visit?"

"Good morning Ashley. It's good to see you again." Curtis answered.

"I was hoping to talk with either one or both of you about something. Or maybe I should say someone."

"Let me guess. It's Brett." Scott offered.

"Right on the first try. But first there is something a little more important. Can I borrow your bathroom? It's been a long walk."

"You know where it's at." Scott said with a sweep of his arm towards the barn door.

Ashley smiled and quickly walked past the men and entered the house to do what she had to. Once she had finished, she started on her way outside again, but stopped for a moment in the barn to look over Gram's car, and the weapons that Scott had cleaned and reloaded on her first day here. As she stood next to the weapons, she heard a strange voice from outside. She eased her way over to the partially open door and peeked out. What she saw made her very uncomforatble. Scott and Curtis were standing a little to her right, and four strange looking men were a short distance in front of them. Two of them she could see had handguns out and seemed to be threatening the two of them. Keeping an eye on the door, Ashley backed away, thinking briefly that if she were careful, she could get into Scott's house, close the door and if she remained quiet, no matter what happened, these men would never know she was there. Almost immediately she was ashamed of herself. Scott and Curtis had been nothing but kind to her. How could she abandon them now? Ashley felt a bump against her backside and realized she was standing next to the work bench. The work bench with Grandpa's weapons stacked up on it. Without looking and without another thought, her hand reached out on it's own accord and closed around the nearest one.

After that, even she could never explain why she did what she did next. She walked quietly to the door, only to hear Scott say, "Look. I'll give you my wallet, and you can have what's inside. Just leave us be and we'll all be better off."

She could just make out Scott reaching for his wallet. The one she knew had the small two shot pistol inside. But a two shot pistol was no match for four men. Without thinking, Ashley kicked open the door and leveled the gun in her hands at the four men.

"You'd better just get out of here, or I'll shoot." It was a bluff she knew, but they didn't. She just wanted them to leave.

The four men looked in her direction when the door came open. Now one of them smiled in an unpleasant manner at her.

"Well. What do we have here? A little lady telling us what to do. I don't know if I like that."

"Hey man. Be careful. That is a little lady with a big gun. Maybe too big for one so small. Why don't you give that to us and we'll let you all go in exchange?"

"You stay away from me, and them." She nodded her head at a stunned Scott and Curtis. "Maybe I'll let you get away."

She was shocked when they laughed at her. They didn't believe the bluff. What was she to do now? Why didn't Scott give her some kind of sign? The gang members saw the fear in her eyes. It emboldened them.

"I think maybe you are too scared to do anything. I think you've never shot at a man before. I can see it in your eyes. I think I'm just going to take that thing from you before you hurt someone."

The man started to move towards her, and another of them was right behind him, while the other two carefully watched her two friends. They were no more than eight feet from her. Ashley could never remember ever being this frightened before. Not even the day she had left Gram's house. Involuntarily her finger pulled the trigger tight. She hadn't even noticed the weapon she had picked up was the old Thompson. It roared to life in her hands, and began to buck and rise as the bullets were fired. She had been aiming low when the sub machinegun started to fire. As the barrel came up, four of the rounds hit the man closest to her. They started to impact in the area of the groin and stitched up his body. At such close range, three of them missed the bones and passed through him and hit the man behind him. They were both dead before they hit the ground.

The heads of the other two men snapped around as the Tommygun came to life. Scott chose that moment to raise his wallet and fire one of his two rounds into the face of the man nearest him. He fell without a sound. He turned to the second man, only to find Curtis already had his hands on his head. With a savage twisting motion he broke the last mans neck and let the lifeless body drop to the earth.

"Ashley! Ashley! Are you alright?" She knew Scott was speaking to her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the bodies of the men she had killed. "Ashley. Why don't you let me have that?" Scott reached out for the Thompson.

"Are they..."

"Yes. They're dead. Are you okay?"

"I.. I don't know. I think I'm...Oh my." She thrust the still warm weapon into Scott's hand, and ran behind his pickup truck. It was long after her stomach had emptied it's contents before she was able to stand on her own two feet again, and the day didn't seem so nice anymore.

It took Scott and Curtis several minutes to get Ashley on her feet and into the house. Once there, they helped her to a seat and stood talking.

"I'm thinking we better get the sheriff out here. He's going to want to know exactly what happened. Especially if we try to hide those guys and they are found later on." Scott said.

"I guess you're right." Curtis answered. "What do you think he's going to say about a machine gun doing in those guys?"

"I wish I knew. I don't think he'll be happy, that's for sure. Why don't you take my truck and get him up here, I'll stay here with Ashley."

"Probably the best idea. Alright, I'll go."

Curtis left with Scott's keys in his hand. For his part, Scott moved to where Ashley was sitting on the couch, dazed by the events and trying to come to terms with them. He sat next to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. She jumped at the unexpected contact.

"Hey. Are you going to be okay?" He asked her.

"I don't know. Scott, why did they do that. Why didn't they just leave when they saw the gun? It was almost like they wanted me to shoot them."

"No, they didn't want that, I'm sure. They just didn't believe you would. I didn't think you would either for that matter. You were scared, and it showed."

"I was terrified. I thought they were going to hurt you and Curtis. I just couldn't let that happen." She paused for a moment. "I still feel sick over it. Dirty too in a strange way. Like I've done something that will never go away and everyone who even looks at me is going to know."

"Ashley. There are a couple of things you need to know. You're right. These feelings will never go away. The best you can hope for is that after awhile, they won't hurt as bad. And speaking of not hurting as much, you tell me. Did you really have any choice?"

"They didn't let me have one."

"Exactly. If you hadn't shot them, Curtis and I would be dead. And I don't want to think about what would have happened to you. You need to hang on to that. You had no choice and if you didn't shoot first, none of us would be around right now."

Ashley knew Scott was telling her the truth, but she had killed two men. She could still see their faces as the bullets hit them and hear the sound of the Tommy gun.

"So you're saying I have to live like this?"

"No. But you do have to deal with it. You did what you had to, and personally I glad you acted the way you did. It means I get to live a little longer." He smiled at her as she looked at him. "Besides, even if you aren't a believer, I'm sure God will forgive you this one."

"I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself." Ashley buried her head in her hands, and said more to herself than to Scott, "Why didn't they listen? Why didn't they just leave before anything happened?"

"They couldn't." Scott answered her.

"Why not? Nobody would have stopped them. They could have just walked away."

"No. They couldn't do that. Once they pulled their pistols they had to carry through with whatever they had planned. Otherwise they would lose respect in their gang. They would be seen as weak, and gangs can't have any weaklings or else they will collapse in on themselves."

"You mean they choose to risk death because they wanted to look macho?"

"That's about it. You would have to be in a gang to really understand it. You see gang members depend on each other to stay alive. Once a member, always a member is the way they see it."

"That's just stupid. You have to die or get hurt to prove you're a man? I just don't get it."

"Neither do I. I just know that's how they feel about things." Scott turned his head and listened for a moment. "That was fast. It sounds like Curtis is back already. Maybe he met with somebody on the way to town. I guess we'd better go out and talk to the Sheriff."

"Do you think he'll arrest me?"

"I doubt it, given what happened, but I hope you're not too fond of that machine gun. You'll probably lose that. Come on. Let me help you up and we'll go find out."

As Scott stood he held out his hand to her. Ashley gratefully accepted it and together they made their way outside.

The door suddenly burst open as they drew close to it, and Curtis almost ran over them as he rushed in. He looked flushed and scared about half to death.

"Scott! Man, I'm glad to see you. Look, it wasn't my fault. I tried my best to get out of there but I just wasn't quick enough. I'm sorry, Brother."

"Whoa, whoa. What are you talking about Curtis? You lost me after 'glad to see you'. What are you talking about, and where is the sheriff?"

"He's not coming. I never got a chance to get to town before it happened."

"WHAT happened? Curtis, you're not making any sense."

"Come look."

Curtis led the two of them outside to where Scott's truck sat. There wasn't any glass left in the front or rear windshields, except jagged pieces sticking out here and there. The tailgate was riddled with bullet holes, as was the toolbox that rode in the back. Scott had no doubt the tool box had stopped bullets that were meant for his friend after they had gone through the tailgate. Steam was hissing out from under the hood of the truck where he could see other bullets had hit the truck. All in all it seemed Curtis had been on the losing end of a fire fight.

"What happened?" Scott asked again. "Who was doing all of this shooting, and why did they want to kill you?"

"I don't think it was so much me they were shooting at, just anyone who came down the road. I saw other cars that looked like this while I was getting out of there." Curtis was still shaking Ashley noticed. "As for who they are, all I can tell you is they looked like gang members. Acted like them too. They just wanted to take control of the road and the whole town, I think. They want to keep people from getting in or out of town. That's why I never made it to the sheriff's office." He stopped for a minute and then spoke again. "Scott, I'm sorry. I would have never done anything to get your truck all shot up like this. You know that, don't you?"

"After this morning, I don't doubt you a bit. The question is, what do we do now? We can hide out here for a little while, but there isn't much food left in the house right now, and I don't care for the idea of sitting out here waiting to be rescued."

"We could take Gram's car." Ashley stated simply.

Curtis answered her. "That's no good. I don't care what car you're driving. Those people will turn it into Swiss cheese in a heartbeat."

"You haven't taken a good look at Gram's car."

"Ashley's right. That thing is a virtual tank. We could just drive right through them without a problem."

"You're sure about that?"

"I don't think you could stop that thing with anything short of an anti tank weapon. Come on. We're wasting time. Sooner or later someone is going to come looking for the ones we killed earlier. Let's get every weapon and round of ammo we have into the car and get moving."

Ashley stopped for a moment and though about what Scott had said. 'We killed'. In her turmoil, she had forgotten that both of the men had killed as well that morning. Curtis she realized was almost as upset as she was, but the urgency of the moment was more important than her personal feelings. She knew she had to behave more like them. Putting aside her feelings she opened the trunk and one of the back doors and began to load it with everything that Scott told to load it with.

Before long the three of them were about to load themselves into the car when Scott stopped them.

"One more thing before we go. Ashley I know you don't believe, so you don't need to do this. Curtis, we need to pray."

"I couldn't agree more."

Ashley was only a little surprised when both men went to their knees and began to ask The Lord for help and protection in what they were about to do. It was a solemn moment she knew. However it was Scott and Curtis that were even more surprised when they finished. They looked around to find that at some point, Ashley had joined them by getting on her knees. She raised her head when the men had finished, and when she saw Scott's questioning look answered his unasked question.

"At this point, I don't know what to believe. I figured it couldn't hurt."

"Well, you're right about that. Let's go. Curtis, I'd appreciate it if you would take the back seat, and Ashley I'd like you to ride up front with me. If you don't mind, I'll drive."

"I don't mind at all."

Together the three of them got in the car after Scott locked up his home and opened the barn doors, then he backed out of the barn.

"You know, I'm thinking that if these guys are trying to take over the town like you said Curtis, then the sheriff is really going to have his hands full." Scott announced as they began. "That means we aren't going to be able to expect any help when we try to run this gauntlet. We're on our own."

"That's probably true. Are you sure this car will make it? I mean what is what if they shoot out the tires?"

"I guess we just have to take that chance. Unless you know anything that might help us Ashley."

"Just a minute. Let me think about it." She went back in her mind to the time everything had started. Grandpa had done everything he could to keep what he was doing out of sight. There just might be an answer here somewhere, but where? He had also made sure that everything would be easy to find and use when it was needed. A thought occurred to her. What if? No. It couldn't be that easy. Still, she reached out and opened the glove compartment. Sure enough, inside were several buttons similar to the ones in Grams safe room. Each one was marked. She quickly found one marked 'wheel covers'. Since they didn't have anything covering the wheels in the first place, she pressed it. She was rewarded with a humming noise which was followed with a metallic thump as the humming stopped. She looked in the rear view mirror on her side of the car. Metal plates had come from somewhere and covered most of the back wheel. She assumed the same had happened on the front
tires, and spoke to Scott.

"Check out the back tire in your mirror."

He did so. Then he smiled. "I sure wish I'd had a chance to meet your grandparents. They seem to have thought of everything."

"I think so." She answered as she continued to study the buttons in front of her. There were four more sections with buttons in them.. Two sections were marked simply as right or left defense. The other two were marked either front or back defense. Both had multiple buttons marked either 'arm' or 'fire'. She didn't know what the meant, but after what happened the day she had been forced out of the house she almost felt sorry for any who might choose to attack the car. Almost, but not quite. She was beginning to understand what Scott had been talking about. None of them had asked for this, and none of them wanted it. It was being forced on them, and all they could do was their best to stay alive.

"We've got company." Curtis said from the back seat as they made their way towards the outskirts of town. "And I don't think they're friendly." Scott looked in the mirror as Ashley turned in her seat to see a Jeep coming up fast behind them. One man stood and pointed a rifle at the back of the car and began to fire. Bullets impacted the trunk and the rear windshield, but none of them penetrated. "Definitely not friendly." Curtis called out.

Scott pressed harder on the gas pedal.

"Ashley, can you do anything about them?"

"I think so, but don't blame me if the car blows up."

"Just do it." Curtis shouted at her.

"If you blow us up, I seriously doubt I'll ever speak to you again." Was Scott's comment.

Ashley couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh at his words. "Let them get a little closer and tell me when we are going to be going in a straight line."

Scott eased off on the gas slightly, and shortly said, "Now."

She pushed the first button marked 'arm' in the rear defense section. There was a whirring noise followed by a thump, and the red 'fire' button lighted up. She pushed it. Unseen by them, and un-noticed by the people following them when Ashley pressed the 'arm' button a small metal tube swung down underneath the car and locked into position under the back bumper. When she pushed 'fire', it did. A steel projectile two inches wide and about four long fired out of the tube. It punched through the grill and radiator of the Jeep,and crashed into the engine, which promptly died from the damage inflicted on it. It was only the skill of the driver of the chase vehicle that kept it from crashing. In the mean time the curses of the pursuers fell unheard by the the three people being chased.

"I really wish I'd met your grandparents now." Scott told Ashley. He looked forward in the road and told them, "Heads up. More trouble coming."

Ashley looked to see what he was talking about. On each side of the road was a vehicle loaded with men. Every one of them was obviously armed, and were more than ready to use the weapons. Twenty yards before they passed between the cars, the men opened fire. Bullets hit the front of Gram's car with the obvious intention of killing the engine. The shielding added to the car by her grandfather did it's job and stopped every round. While the windshield suffered some damage, it too remained intact. Scott hammered the gas peddle and sped though the attackers, as thuds and bangs of rounds fired by them hit the car on it's way between them. At that speed, Ashley didn't have the chance to find out about the defensive systems on each side of the car, so she didn't even try. Scott continued to accelerate as they raced down the road towards town. The two cars pulled out and began to chase them. Once they closed to what they felt was a good position, they began to shoot at the trio. Again the shielding worked as it was supposed to do and protected them.

"Ashley! Is there anything you can do about them?" Curtis hollared at her to be heard about the incoming rounds.

"I don't see anything here. It looks like Grandpa only planned for close encounters." She studied the panel again. "No. nothing here for more than one car at a time."

"Hang on." Scott shouted. "I've got a plan. Ashley, stand by to do it."

Ashley pushed the second 'arm' button and they heard the system activate. Just ahead Scott knew there was an overpass they would have to go through in order to get into town. When he got close enough, he hit the brakes, hard. The car slid under the bridge and stopped just on the far side. The vehicles chasing them had no choice but to get into a single file to fit under the bridge, and when Scott suddenly stopped the lead vehicle also hit the brakes.

"Now! Do it now." Scott shouted. Ashley hit the second 'fire' button. Once again a solid steel projectile fired out from the back of the car. This time the pursuit vehicle was a bit further back than the first time. With the increased distance the projectile passed just above the engine and blasted it's way through the dashboard and killed two of the men shooting at them. The driver was taken totally by surprise. He jerked the wheel to one side to get away from the projectile, while he was still pushing on the brakes. The car swerved violently to the side and ran straight into one of the pillars holding up the overpass. It bounced off with the front end completely gone, and rolled over onto it's side and then onto the top. With nowhere to go, the second car crashed into it and both vehicles were destroyed, killing most of the people inside them.Scott shifted into first gear and peeled out as fast as he could go.

The rest of the trip into town was a short one that passed without incident. Scott didn't even ask. He headed directly to the sheriff's office and squealed to a stop in front of it. The three of them jumped out and ran into the office. Inside it didn't take long to find the sheriff. He was sitting at his desk, with his arm in a sling and a bandage on his shoulder. There was a quick if somewhat confused conversation as they explained what had happened so far that day. Finally the sheriff stopped them and cleared the air.

"Alright. Let me see if I've got this right. You had to shoot four of these gang bangers to get out of your home, Scott. Then you ran a virtual gauntlet of attackers and wiped out three cars in a tank that was left to Ashley by her grandmother. Now you are here with weapons and ammo asking what I want you to do. Is that about it?"

Ashley couldn't help herself. She had to know. "Sheriff. Grandpa provided that machine gun, and I used it to stop two of those men. Am I going to be arrested?"

He looked at her kindly. "Ashley, you've forgotten something. I gave you an appointment as a law enforcement officer. That authorized you to carry and if necessary use a weapon in defense of yourself or the public at large. Were you doing that?"

"Yes Sir. They would have killed Scott and Curtis."

"Then I don't see a problem with an officer doing her duty. I wish I had known you had that machine gun, but under these circumstances, I'd say you did your duty. I don't have a problem with that. Now let's take a look at this vehicle of yours. It gives me an idea."

The Sheriff was more than a little impressed by Ashley's car. As he looked it over, Ashley explained what she knew of the weapons systems her grandfather had built into it. Finally the Sheriff turned and spoke to her.

"Ashley, in extreme situations like this the law allows me to commandeer any vehicles that I might need. I'm sorry to say this, but I'm going to have to commandeer this one."

"I understand. If you need it, then you need it."

"I'm glad to hear you take it that way. Scott, Curtis, please come with me." He turned and headed back into the office, speaking to them as he went. "I've had to deputize just about every man in town because of this situation. You two are now deputies. I want to show you what I have in mind."

Ashley had followed as the men went into the office, and stood half listening as the Sheriff spoke. The rest of her mind was occupied with the past few months and everything that had happened to her. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.

"These thugs have taken over Ring Park on the north side of town and a small amount of area around it. I plan on using Ashley's car to break through their perimiter and into the park. Then do as mich damage to them as I and a few deputies can before we have to leave. Scott it would be helpful if you could do a little modification to the car."

"What do you have in mind?" He asked.

"You've seen the 'cow catchers' they used to put on steam locomotives? Well, I want something like that welded to the front of the car. Can you do that?"

"As long as you have a welder, sure."

"Good. The three of you will remain here until we get back."

"No Sheriff."

The men looked at Ashley.

"What do you mean, no? I told you that I have the right to commandeer your vehicle."

"I know, and I'm not arguing it with you. But I will not stay behind anymore."

"Ashley, I can't let you go into harms way for something like this. You need to stay here. This is going to be a very nasty and dirty business that I'm going to be doing."

"I know that. But I'm not staying behind. I'm going, and you can't stop me."

"Ashley.."

She interrupted him. "Sir, since this whole thing started, I've been forced from my home, which was burned to the ground behind me. I lost everything I had, except that car and the guns. After I got here, I've had a man point a gun at me and threaten to rape me. And even you have used me as a spy against Brett. This morning I had to kill two men to save Scott and Curtis. I'm tired of running. I'm sick and tired of being scared all the time. I just want this whole thing to stop. If that means I have to get my hands dirty, then so be it. Besides, YOU are the one that made me a cop. That means I have just as much of a duty to 'protect and serve' as you do, doesn't it? Not to mention that I'm the only one who has ever used the weapons that Grandpa put in that car. You need me."

"Now wait a minute Ashley. You Have to understand..."

"Sheriff." Scott interrupted this time. "Give it up. You're losing."

"Scott, you're not helping me right now."

"I know. But that's because she's right."

The Sheriff looked at him. "You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?"

"Nope."

The Sheriff looked at Scott. "Alright, have it your way. Ashley, you take the weapons your grandfather put in the car, I'll drive and we'll have a couple of deputies in the back seat."

"No, Sheriff."

"What is it now, Scott?"

"From what you've said so far, this thing just might call for some fancy driving. I've got two good arms. You don't."

"Okay, okay. You drive, Ashley takes the weapons, and a deputy and I will ride in back."

"No Sheriff."

"You too Curtis? What's your problem?"

"I've got a few of things. First of all, you are basically in charge of this whole operation. we can't risk you getting hit. Second, how will you reload a rifle with a bad arm? Third. Scott is the best friend I have in this world, and no doubt about it, Ashley saved my bacon this morning. Do you seriously think I'm going to let them try this without being there to watch their backs?"

The Sheriff looked at the three of them. He shook his head and said, "Lunatics. I've got a bunch of lunatics on my hands."

"Maybe so Sheriff." Scott said. "But you know we're right."

"Alright, have it your way." He turned and shouted into the other room. "Thomas! Get in here. You're going out on a mission."

Before long, Scott was in the garage working on Ashley's car. The job was made easier since that area also housed the equipment used by the county for snow removal during the winter. With the help of a couple of officers and a forklift he soon had the blade of a snow plow taken off of the truck it was on, had it cut in half and welded it together again so that it formed a point. With even more help he welded supports to hold it to the undercarriage of Ashley's car as well as the frame above the engine on the sides. And soon would be welding the point to them.

For his part Curtis was taken to a back room by Officer Thomas. All manner of weapons were stored there, along with ammunition for them. As he walked to the gun rack Thomas asked something of Curtis.

"I assume that you know how to handle a shotgun?"

"Of course. I've done a bit of hunting from time to time."

"Well this one isn't like any shotgun you've ever seen before." He reached out and pulled a strange looking shotgun from the rack. "Just before everything started to fall apart we got this in. It is an AA-22. One of the newest, and I think, meanest weapons out there. It is a fully automatic 12 gage shotgun fed by a drum type magazine."

"FULLY automatic?"

"That's right. It takes all of four seconds to put twenty rounds of buckshot accurately on your target. It has very little recoil due to it's design, so there should be no trouble hitting your target more than once."

"Twenty rounds in four seconds? Man you could dig ditches with something like that."

"Tell me about it. You should have seen the instructional video that came with it. We have four drums for it, which gives you eighty rounds. But remember, you can burn up a lot of ammo real fast with this thing, and the drums are time consuming to reload. Pick your targets. Try for groups instead of individuals. A one second trigger pull puts out five rounds, so be conservative with your shooting."

"I will. You say there was an instructional video that came with it. Any chance I could see it?"

"Sure, if you can help me find it. I don't know where it's at."

Together they started looking.

Ashley waited around the office, for a chance to speak with the Sheriff about something that was bothering her. It took a little over an hour before she had her chance.

"Sheriff, can I talk to you?"

"Let me guess. Now you want explosives as well." He said with a smile.

She returned his smile with one of her own and brought up the subject.

"Nothing like that. But I was wondering, what happened to Brett?"

"I wish I could tell you. He and Barry were the first two to see these thugs. Barry knew he would be needed so he made an excuse of having to look after his family and left him at the Campbell house. That's the last anyone can remember seeing him." He looked pensive for a moment. "If anything I expect he's hiding in a hole somewhere, Just waiting for this mess to blow over. After that he'll come out and claim he was deeply involved in helping end the situation. At least that's my guess."

"I hope you're right. He is very good at looking out for himself. Probably because he knows nobody else is going to watch his back. But I still wouldn't assume too much with him. You never know what he might be up to doing. Whatever it is the one thing you can be sure of is that it will be in his own self-interest."

"That's one thing I'm certain of."

It had taken a long time, but Brett had finally managed to get through the perimeter that had been formed around the gang. Once there he waited out of sight and very quietly for his chance to come. Twice gang members had passed within a couple of feet of him without knowing he was there. Still he waited for the right chance. He knew he would only get one. Brett was convinced that the small sheriff's department in the town would lose this fight, sooner or later. They were out-manned and out-gunned as far as he could tell. To him there was no sense in being on the losing side. He had come up with a plan. It was the best kind of plan. Simple and in all the confusion and chaos, one that was easily believable. He would find a way to get to the leader of this group and offer his services as a sort of guide. By now with all of the job hunting he and Barry had done he was fairly familiar with the layout of the town. He could guide gang members through the encircled area and get them behind the sheriff's men. After that all opposition to the gang would end and he would be rewarded for helping to make it happen. If things didn't work out that way, he could always claim that while on his way to see if he could help the sheriff's men he had been captured by the gang and forced to help them. Naturally he tried to lead them right to where he knew the sheriff's men to be, so they could rescue him from these evil people. Yes. He knew it would work. All he needed was the right chance and he would be home free. The sound of footsteps coming closer snapped him out of his musings and brought him back to the present. There was only one person coming he could tell. Now if it was the right person he could get started.

Brett watched as a young woman in gang clothing came closer to his hiding place. This was perfect. Women were always such suckers for his stories. He waited until she was almost on top of him, and then jumped out in front of her. He pulled a pistol he had picked up earlier from a dead gang member that he supposed had been killed by the local lawmen.

"Don't move." He said as menacingly as he could. "And don't make a sound."

He couldn't believe it when she just looked at him and laughed.

"What do we have here? A man with a gun? No, I think we have a boy with a gun. Maybe just a toy gun. What's the matter little boy? Did you lose your mama?"

Brett didn't take the obvious bait. She wanted him to react to her taunts. To lose his cool. That would give her the advantage. There was no way he was going to let some chick get the better of him.

"I need to speak with whoever is in charge."

"What for?"

"That's my business. I just want you to tell him that someone wants to make a deal with him."

"What kind of deal? And why should he? We'll own this town before long. Then we take what we want."

"The kind of deal that can help you get what you want. And you can get it without losing too many of your people. But only with my help."

"Why should I believe you? You live here. Why would you want to help us?"

"Because I don't live here. I just got stuck here. These people mean nothing to me. So I don't want to get killed for them."

"If you don't live here, then what help could you be?"

"I've been here long enough to learn all of the back roads and ways to get around without anybody seeing me. I can get you guys out of this trap you're in. And I can do it without you losing any more of your people."

The woman looked at Brett for a long moment without saying a word. Then she spoke again. "Yeah. Marcell might be interested in that. Come with me. I'll take you to him."

"You'll take me nowhere. Do you think I'm stupid enough to trust you just like that? No. You bring this Marcell guy here. Alone. When I'm sure it's safe, I'll come out and talk to him."

"Now you think we are stupid. How do we know this isn't a trap?"

"Because if it was, there would be more people here than just me. And I wouldn't be in your territory making a deal. You would have to come to me, outside here."

"Alright. I'll talk to him. But I can't promise what he'll say."

"I didn't ask you to say anything. Just bring him here and when I'm sure it's just the two of us, then we can talk."

"When?"

"Two hours."

"I'll see what I can do."

With that she turned and walked back in the direction she had come from.

"Okay you four. Time to listen to orders." The Sheriff called to Scott, Ashley, Curtis and Officer Thomas. They gathered around him as he stood next to a table with a city map on it, before him. He pointed to it and continued to brief them on what he wanted done. "As you already know, the gang members have total control of Ring Park and the area right around it. They've used cars to block the streets into the area. Right here," He pointed at the map. "They have two of them nose to nose blocking Main Street leading to the park. I can't tell you where your best chance for breaking through the barrier is going to be, but you have to break through. If you just drive around the park taking shots at whoever you can this is nothing more than a drive-by shooting, and will accomplish nothing. You have to get inside that park. That will draw them to you. The armor plating on that car should protect you when they come. I want you to just crack open the back windows enough to shoot out, and wait for them to get close enough to do some real damage before you open up on them. Ashley, we've reloaded the weapons in the back of the car with what amounts to buckshot. The defensive weapons on the right and left sides are also buckshot type rounds provided by your grandfather. Near as we can tell, when you set off one of them, all six on whichever side you choose will go off in series. That means 1,2,3, and so on, until they are all gone. So try to make sure you get as many of them as you can when you set it off. Don't go for the first target."

The briefing went on for another fifteen minutes before all instructions were given and all questions answered. All five people went to the garage. The four of them got in the car and the Sheriff gave one final order.

"Remember. Officer Thomas is senior to everyone here. He is in charge. When he says to pull out, you pull out. No arguments. Got it?"

"We've got it, Sheriff. We'll be back for supper, God willing." Scott said.

"God willing." The Sheriff agreed. He stepped back and watched as the car pulled away.


Marcell wasn't sure he liked the idea of meeting this stranger alone, but the girl had said he could help, and there was only one of him. He felt confident that he could handle this one man. He had been waiting at the appointed place for fifteen minutes when Brett finally showed himself.

"So, you are the guy that says he can help me. What do you have to offer me?"

"I can get you out of here and into town."

"My soldiers can do that." He said confidently.

"Maybe so. But can they do it without losing too many of them? I can show you how to get out of here and into town and still have enough men to take this place over."

"Maybe, maybe not. Why should I believe you? This is your town, why would you want to turn on your own people?"

"Because it's not my town. I got stuck here after I ran out of gas. And even I can see you guys are much too strong for these local cops and rednecks. I just don't want to be on the losing side."

It sounded good to Marcell. Someone who knew the place but with no ties to it. This guy could be useful.

"That sounds good. But you need to show me some things before I can believe you."

"What kind of things?"

"Where are the cops? They have to have more guns than anybody else. Where is their office? How do we get there?"

"I can show you that. But what do I get?"

"You get to live. And I'll even throw in a girl, if you want. But first I need to know where the cops have their office so we can get their guns and get rid of them."

"Okay. I can do that. But I want the girl of my choice." His mind thought of Ashley. She had become so good looking since she had lost all that weight.

"Are you talking local, or one of my girls?"

"Local."

"Okay, that sounds good. So where is the office?""

"Not far. If you can get me to Main Street, I can show you."

"Alright. come on."

While neither man trusted the other, they walked towards the Main Street road block together.


As they started to head towards the territory taken over by the gang members, Ashley thought about all the things that had happened. She thought about how lucky she had been. But was it really luck? Maybe there was something to what Scott, Curtis, and even Rachel had said to her. How could she be sure? This God they all talked about was supposed to really care about the people who worshiped Him. Maybe that was the answer. He looked out for those who looked to Him. Those who followed Him. He took care of them no matter what. As the car approached the point of no return Ashley made up her mind.

"Scott. Stop the car."

"What?"

"STOP the car. There's something I need to do."

Six blocks in a straight line from the entrance to Ring Park, Scott brought the car to a halt. Her mind made up, Ashley took a deep breathe, and then slowly let it out again. Looking up, she spoke.

"O.K. God. If you are really there, then you have to care about these guys in this car with me. They all say they believe in You. Maybe You even care about me. If so, I don't know why. I've never really cared about You. But I've been told that as long as I'm honest with You, You won't get mad at me. So here it is. I don't know if You are there or not, but if You are, we really need Your help right now. This has to be the craziest thing I've ever done. I don't even know why I'm doing it. But we are going to need help from somewhere. If You help us now, I promise, I'll follow you. It may take awhile before I understand everything, but I'll try. I'm sorry, but that's the best I can do right now. It's all in Your hands. Please help us. Amen."

A chorus of 'Amens' echoed throughout the car. They all looked throught the windshield at the cars blocking the entrance to the park. Scott, shifted into first gear, and they all readied themselves for what was to come.

Marcell brought Brett to the entrance of the park.

"Okay. Which way is it to the cops office from here?"

Brett looked down the street. "From here, you have to go down about six blocks.....What is that?" He pointed at the strange looking car in the street.

"Alright everybody, remember what the Sheriff said. Wait until we get into the park before anyone starts shooting. The idea is to draw them to us, then take out as many as we can before our guys make their move." Officer Thomas said. "Scott. Where do you think we should break through?"

"I'm thinking straight ahead. We were told they had two cars nose to nose, but there has to be four feet between them, and they are small cars to boot."

"Are you sure we can? Does this thing have enough power to get through them and still keep moving? I'd sure hate to get stuck in there."

"The engine in this thing is a monster. It has to be to move this much weight. We'll hit them like a freight train. We'll make it alright."

"Okay, you're the driver. Ashley, don't turn those weapons on until after we get inside the park. They stick out a little, and we don't want them damaged before we can use them."

"You've got it." Was all she said.

"Curtis, you and I need to keep the windows up until we slow down. Then it is fire at the targets of your choice. Got it?"

Curtis just nodded his head.

"I think everybody better put on a seat belt before we get started. It's going to be quite a bump when we bust through those cars." Was Scott's advice. They all followed it. "Don't forget the ear plugs. It's going to get loud in here. Everyone ready?"

"No. But let's get it over with." Ashley told him.

Scott let out the clutch and pressed on the gas.

Marcell didn't take long before he realized that the odd looking car was coming straight for them. He ordered everyone within earshot to start shooting at it. He had fired three shots himself before he noticed that Brett was just standing there, doing nothing.

"What are you waiting for? Kill them before they kill you."

Brett raised his pistol and began to fire, as the car raced towards them. He was standing near one of the cars being used as a blockade and knew that whoever this was, they'd turn at the last minute to avoid them. He had just fired his last round at them when the car contacted the blockade at about forty-five miles an hour. The curved snowplow blade welded to the front of the car, combined with it's massive weight first lifted the two smaller cars, and then threw them to the side. Brett, still unbelieving what he was seeing never had a chance. One of them rolled over on top of him. He died instantly. Scott continued onward into the park. As planned, once he had passed between the cars began to feather the gas, as if the engine had suffered damage. He continued until he reached a point near the center of the park, and then purposely stalled out the engine. Believing the car was now crippled, Marcell ordered the gang members to attack the car, and kill
everyone inside. After the nature of the attack, the gang members felt he was right. Most of them anywhere near the car turned on them and attacked. Of the seventy or so gang members that had invaded the town, most were in the park at the time. Of that number, fully two thirds attacked the car as it came to a stop.

"Sheriff. The car has stopped moving. Those people are getting hammered." One of the officers along the outskirts of the park reported by radio.

"Wait for my command." Was the reply.

"Sheriff, we've got to do something!"

"WAIT for my command." He said again, more forcefully.

"Ashley. Do it now." Thomas yelled over the sound of impacting rounds.

She armed the entire system, but hollered back to him. "They aren't close enough."

"Curtis! Let's do it."

Instead of answering, Curtis cracked open the back window and began to fire at the attackers. Using the shortest possible bursts of fire, he cut down man after man. As the first drum ran empty, he ducked under the level of the window and quickly replaced it. As he did so, a bullet came through the window. It passed over him and hit the side of Thomas' head. Noticing the sudden lack of firing, Curtis looked over at him.

"Thomas is hit!" He shouted.

"See if you can close the window, and check him." Scott answered. He looked to his right. "Ashley. Can I borrow this?" He reached for the Thompson sitting next to her. Without looking, she nodded.

Curtis pulled the M-16 Thomas had been firing back inside the car, and cranked the window closed. The gang members saw that firing had stopped from the back of the drivers side of the car, and automatically pressed their advantage. At least fifteen of them began to close in on that side. They got within seven feet of the car, firing all the time when Scott shouted.

"Now, Ashley. Do this side now!"

She punched the button. The Sheriff had been correct in his assessment of the firing system. On the outside of the car, just in front of where Scott's feet were at, the tubes began to fire. One after another, all six of them fired. Eleven of the gang members went down. The rest backed off. Some of them obviously injured. Scott partially rolled down the drivers window. He stuck out the end of the Thompson and began to fire in short bursts. Two of the retreating men also went down, never to rise again.

Ashley was more scared than she could ever remember being in her life. She looked out her window. The number of gang members coming at her, firing their weapons, was beyond what she had time to count. In her mind she pleaded with them. 'Stop. Stop. Stop. I don't want to do this.' They kept coming, firing all the time. She had no choice. She pushed the second button. As with the drivers side, the tubes went off, one after the other. The results were much the same. When it was done, bodies were everywhere. In the backseat, Curtis was putting the fourth drum into the shotgun. Suddenly, it seemed all was quiet. The gang members no longer wanted anything to do with the car and were moving away as fast as they could.

"NOW! Everyone move in now! " The Sheriff ordered into the radio.

As the gang tried to get away from the car, the sheriff's officers and deputized men from the town moved towards them. It didn't last long. The few gang bangers left on the outer edges of the park decided to pull back rather than face the determined and angry men coming at them. They had never expected that the men of the town either still had their own weapons, or had been armed by the sheriff. As they pulled back towards the park, they found the survivors of the assault against the car coming towards them. trapped between two forces, they became desperate. They started to shoot at anyone near them. The townsfolk and deputies stood back from them and used rifles and shoutguns to finish thm off. By the time it was done, almost all of them had died. The Sheriff moved as quickly as he could to Ashley's car. When he got there, all he could see was the passenger side of the car which was riddled with bullet holes. The bullet proof glass was covered with cracks that looked like spider webs. He moved around to the drivers side. The back door was open, and Ashley, Scott and Curtis were gathered around Officer Thomas as he lay on the ground. Scott was holding a bloody cloth against his head.

"What happened? Is he alive?" The Sheriff asked as he saw the side of Thomas' head covered in blood.

"He's still breathing." Scott answered. "But I don't know how bad it is. Looks like he got clipped in the side of the head. What damage it might have done, I couldn't say."

The Sheriff dropped to his knees and inspected the wound. "You're right. He caught a piece of one. Don't move him. Wait for Dr. Turner to get here to look him over. If he wakes up, don't let him move. It might be awhile before the doctor can get here. He's kind of busy right now."

"Do you have any idea of how badly we got hurt?" Curtis wanted to know.

"There are a few men down, but I don't think we lost any. I saw Barry a few minutes ago, and Ashley, I don't think you have anything to worry about anymore. Simpson is dead."

"How did it happen?" She asked.

"One of the cars you came between rolled over on top of him. He was on the gang's side, shooting at you."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Why?"

"Maybe he wasn't the best person, but I knew him. It makes me sad he had to die like that." She shook her head. "I always hoped he'd change. I guess he was just too far gone."

"What about you?" Scott asked. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I have to be. I have a promise to keep."

Ashley spent the next couple of weeks with Mrs. Campbell. During that time she learned more than she thought possible. It seemed like it didn't matter what the question was, about half of the answer was in what she had already learned. She already known that Jesus had said to love her enemies. After what had happened she didn't see how that was possible. Then she learned that Jesus had said "I and The Father are one." Gram had told her that God had given people the right to self defense. At first it seemed totally incompatible, and then Mrs. Campbell explained.

"Tell me something sweetheart. Did you want to hurt the people that attacked you?"

"Of course not. I was hoping, and maybe even praying a little bit, that they would leave us alone and go somewhere else."

"So in a way you were concerned about them as well as yourself, Scott, Curtis and Officer Thomas, right?"

"Well, yes. I guess I was. But they didn't really give me choice though. I just wonder about it. I mean, doesn't The Bible say 'Thou shalt not kill'?"

Mrs. Campbell smiled at her and explained. "The Bible we use today does say that. However if you study the matter, in the original language it says 'Thou shalt not murder'. There is quite a difference between that and defending yourself. Wouldn't you say?"

"That certainly puts a different light on it. Why was it changed?"

"Because most of us don't speak Greek or Hebrew. Those were the languages it was first written in."

"What about loving your enemies? I mean, how can you love them and then kill them?"

"We also pray for them. And praying for them is loving them. After all, only God can change someones heart. But to answer your question, we do love them as best we can. But if they are evil, and seek to do us harm, sometimes there just is no choice. The Bible also tells us to resist evil. When something like this happens the choice is to fight back, or die. Now some people say we shouldn't fight back. They say that shows a lack of faith. They believe that under no circumstances should we fight to defend ourselves, but trust The Lord to do it for us. But tell me, if that's so, then why would The Father give us the right to defend ourselves? In the Old Testament, God told the Hebrews to drive everyone from the land he had promised to Abraham. Surely He could have done that. I think He wanted to test His people to see if they had enough faith to do whatever He asked them to do. No matter what. I think of it this way. God gives us each and every day. But He
doesn't tie our shoes for us. Some things we are required to do for ourselves.

"So how do we know what He wants?"

"By studying His Word. Think about it for a moment. Joseph showed faith by gathering food during the seven good years before the famine. Noah showed faith by building the ark, even though at that time it had never rained before."

"Wait a minute. It never rained before the flood?"

"The Bible teaches that before the flood, the Earth was watered by a mist every day."

"I've got a lot of studying to do. I never knew that."


It was during this time that a number of things that would change her life happened. After the battle with the gang bangers, most of those who had taken part wouldn't turn in the weapons they had used, at first. Soon however the sheriff was able to convince the townsfolk that they needed to return the ones from the department arsenal. He did it by making them realize that if government officials came to town to investigate how they had gotten rid of their problem, he would have to be able to show where all of his weapons were. He could easily explain the need to deputize many of the towns people, and could convince the government men that he had retrieved the weapons after the crisis was over, by having each of the new deputies first sign out the weapons and then sign them back in. The gangs weapons were destroyed, of course. Little did he know it was soon to become a moot point.

Ashley's car was kept in the sheriff's department garage, and Scott was seen going in and out of there several times. When she would see him occasionally, Ashley asked what was going on. Scott would only smile and tell her that she would see. She knew him well enough to know it was pointless to press him for answers. Much as she hated it, Ashley just had to wait.

With the rising level of violence nationwide, it came as no surprise when even stricter measures were taken to enforce the martial law edict. As American armed forces began to take increasingly heavier loses, people became increasingly unhappy with the government's handling of the situation. Even in the town anti-government graffiti was starting to show up here and there. There was little the sheriff could do about it. He was even sympathetic to the people protesting. But at the same time he couldn't allow the defacing of either public or private property. He finally ended up posting notices that action would be taken against anyone found doing it.

At first there was no change. However after a few, mainly younger people, were caught things did change. Instead of jailing them, the sheriff put them to work cleaning up and repairing things that had been damaged by the invading gang. Everyone was surprised at how quickly they had managed to do so much. They were also required to clean up their own mess. It wasn't long before people in town started to agree with the sheriff. After all, this was their home. Who wanted to make it look like the streets in every major city in the country?

It was Curtis who suffered the most from the battle. While he himself hadn't gotten a scratch, when he returned home he found that both of his parents had been killed. Judging by what was found, his father had been shot while defending his home. His mother was killed while standing over his body with a shotgun in hand. She had used it to good effect. The bodies of three of the gang were found just inside the door.

It seemed to Ashley that over half of the town had turned out for the funeral. Many of them weeping over the loss, and all of them offering their support to Curtis. He was unable to live in the home after what had happened and moved in with Scott for the time being. Which was why Ashley continued to live in town with Mrs. Campbell. It was while she was there, the next thing happened.

A couple of days earlier the President had come on the air and told how the Chinese military had used nuclear weapons to destroy the fleet he had sent to defend Taiwan from a Chinese attack. As they sat in the front room discussing the matter, the lights flickered and then went out. That was followed almost immediately by a long ominous rumbble, that seemed like it would go on forever.

"Was that thunder? I've never heard anything like that before." Ashley asked.

"No Dear, that wasn't thunder. That was something else." Rachel answered her as she stood. "And if I'm right, the hard times have just begun. Now you stay put, Dear. No point in both of us bumping into things. I'll be right back."

Even in the dark Rachel knew where every piece of furniture was, and almost glided between them without touching one of them. She reached the hall closet where she had gotten The Bible she had given Ashley. Reaching up, she felt around until her hand closed around the base of an old fashioned oil lamp. She pulled it out and with one of the matches which were kept right next to it, lit the lamp and walked back to her guest.

"Darling, I think the best thing for both of us right now is to get some sleep. Things aren't going to change between now and sun up, and tomorrow is likely to be a long day. We're going to need the rest."

"So what do you think has happened?"

"I think we just lost Washington D.C. and by tomorrow morning enemy forces will be invading the country, just as Dimitru Duduman said they would." She looked down at Ashley's stunned expression, and smiled. "I know it's a lot to take in all at one time, and we haven't talked all that much about prophecy. I guess that we'll just have to do a crash course on that in the morning. But for tonight remember one thing. We are in God's hands. Just like when you four went after those gang members. Truth is, we always have been. We'll talk more in the morning. For now, go to bed, try and get some sleep. We'll be alright until then."

Ashley was awake long into the night, as she thought about things. She was beginning to realize that the events of her life had been leading to this time and place. As she turned over, yet again, in her bed she also realized that there was no way it could all have been happenstance. Her grandfather making all the preperations that he had was only the beginning of things. After her parents had died, she had no choice but to move in with Gram. Which had led her to this place and these people. They had led her to Scott, and as she now knew, they had led her to The Lord. She wondered why it had been such a rough ride to get to this point. After all, was it really necessary for her to lose her entire family, not to mention everything she had ever owned? The more she contemplated it the more she came to see that it was. If she had stayed in her comfortable world she would have never known just how much she needed The Lord. And she certainly would have never gone looking for Him. What was it that Rachel had said?

"Just like so many of us, You had to be brought low, so you could learn to look up. In the end, that is what we all have to do. It's just that some of us had to be dealt with a little more harshly than others."

"Does that include you too?"

"Oh my yes, darling. Believe it or not, at one point I was a total mess. I was raised back in the sixties. The era of 'free love' and better living through chemicals. And I bought into it all the way. A total 'flower child' as we were called back then. I once had a friend of mine say that anyone who claims to remember the sixties, wasn't there. Well, I know there are plenty of gaps in my memory of those years. The point is that I wound up at rock bottom, before I was ready to listen to The Lord. Since then, things haven't always been easy, but they have been better than they might have been. I know that if He hadn't reached me, I'd probably have died from an overdose or some disease long ago."

Ashley finally decided that Rachel was right. She had to be shown that she needed to depend on God, rather than herself, any kind of gadget or amount of supplies. After all, He was in control of it all. It was His world. She was just passing though. After a long time, she slipped into a peaceful sleep after promising herself that she was going to force Scott to tell her what he was up to in the morning. That man was driving her crazy, in more ways than one. The fact he was constantly giving, yet asked nothing in return was bad enough. But she was certain he felt towards her what she was feeling for him, but he refused to show it or do anything about it. Then she remembered what Curtis had said about his former wife. 'Once burned, twice shy' she decided. Well, after everything she had been through, there was no way she would ever ask him to make such a choice. She had learned too much to do that.


After a quick breakfast with Mrs. Campbell, Ashley started out to the sheriff's officer the next morning. She was almost to the door when Mrs. Campbell stopped her.

"Sweetheart, aren't you forgetting something?" She asked.

"I don't think so."

"Ashley, we may have not seen any of those people from the gang around in a while, but that doesn't mean they are all gone. And I know the radio and television aren't working, but we have every reason to believe we have been attacked. Most probably by Russia, Do you really want to take the chance of running into some kind of trouble while you are unarmed?"

It took Ashley all of half of a second to realize that Rachel was right. Returning to her room, she picked up the old Thompson and slung it over her shoulder. After a moments thought she picked up three spare magazines and put them in her purse. As she left the house, she saw Mrs. Campbell smiling at her. It made her feel good.

Officer Thomas was recovering nicely from his wound, and even though he was patrolling the streets, his head was still bandaged. Officer Michaels was with him as they walked the main roads of the town, mainly to keep an eye on him in case he wasn't as well as he claimed to be. As they stopped briefly to let Thomas rest, Michaels looked up to see Ashley walking towards them.

"Uh oh. Looks like we have trouble." He said as he spied her. He started to reach for his side arm.

Thomas looked in the direction of his gaze, and put his hand on Michaels fist. "Take it easy. She's on our side."

"You sure about that?"

Thomas smiled. "I'm sure. She was in the car with me." He called out to her as she came closer. "Miss Ashley! Is everything alright?"

"Officer Thomas, how are you doing? I haven't seen you since our trip to the park."

"Dr. Turner says I'll live, but I'm going to have a nice little reminder of that day."

"I'm glad to hear you're going to be alright. Do you happen to know where Scott is at?"

Thomas smiled and pointing at the Thompson said, "I don't know if I should tell you, while you're carrying that thing."

Ashley grinned back at him and said, "I promise I won't hurt him too much." Then sobering she continued. "Actually with everything that's going on, it seemed like a good idea. Have you guys got any idea of what's going on or how bad it is? Mrs. Campbell thinks we were attacked by the Russians. And now it seems that anything electronic doesn't work any more."

"Scott was in the garage last I saw of him. And the answer is yes, but the news isn't good. Washington D.C. and a few other places got hit with nukes last night." Thomas paused for a moment. "Did you know that the sheriff is a veteran?"

"He mentioned it."

"Did he mention that for a while he was assigned to guarding our nuclear weapons?"

"He didn't say anything about that."

"Well,he did. He learned a lot about them. A few years ago after he was elected, he asked for and got certain changes in the way things work around here. The garage and a few other places were shielded against that kind of damage done by a nuclear bomb. Killing everything electronic I mean. So we still have most of our vehicles running, and we are picking up some radio traffic. So I can tell you it's bad. Last report I heard, Russian troops were making landings all up and down the east coast, and somehow they managed to get a sizable force into Canada, and they are making attacks along the boarder. I've also heard that Cuban and Mexican forces are going after the southeast coast. And from what I hear, the Chinese are attacking the west coast at the same time. No doubt about it, we are in real trouble."

Ashley paled at the news. "God help us." she said. "I think I'm going to try to find Scott now. He's at the garage you say?"

"Last I saw."

"Thank you."

Soon she was walking up to the sheriffs office. As she drew near, Scott walked out of the garage area wiping grease from his hands, and saw her coming. He smiled at her and said,

"Well, I'm glad you're here. It saves me a trip. I wanted to show you something. Come in here." He waved her to follow him back into the garage.

"It's about time. What have you been up to?"

"This." He said and pointed towards a car sitting off to one side.

At first Ashley didn't understand what he meant. Then looking a little more closely she saw that she was looking at Grandpa's car. The bullet proof glass had all been replaced, the holes in the side of it had been repaired, and it had even been painted a different color. It looked as if it had just rolled off the showroom floor.

"Scott, how in the world did you do all of that? I thought it was done for after what happened in the park. I mean it had so many holes in it, I thought it couldn't be fixed."

"Oh we did more than fix it. We improved it. Your grandfather used metal plates to stop the bullets, we got rid of those and replaced them with layers of Kevlar. You know, the material they use in bullet proof vests. That reduced the weight of the car, so now you not only have protection, but it handles better and you'll get better gas mileage. The weapons on it have been improved as well."

"You mean the Sheriff doesn't mind me driving this thing?"

"At first, he wanted to buy it from you, just to keep it off the streets. But I convinced him that you weren't going to be doing anything you shouldn't with it, and reminded him that if it wasn't for you, we would still be fighting with the gang. But what really convinced him was that you are still sworn as a law enforcement officer, and you've already proven you can handle yourself in a fight. So, here." He held out the keys to the car to her.

"Oh Scott. I don't know what to say. Thank you, and God bless you."

She took the keys from him, quickly dropped them in her purse, and then reached out to grab Scott by the neck. Pulling him down to her, she kissed him. To her surprise, he was kissing her back as his arms went around her.

"Alright you two. Break it up. There's a time and place for that kind of thing, and this ain't it." The Sheriff called out to Ashley and Scott, as he crossed the garage towards them. While his arm was still bandaged, it was no longer in a sling. He almost had full use of it again. His smile showed he wasn't as upset as he sounded. He reached out and took Scotts' hand. "Now, didn't I call it?"

"Call it? Call what?" Scott asked.

"First time I met this young lady I told you she was a keeper. I'm glad to see you finally realized it."

Scott smiled back at him but said nothing.

"Actually I was thanking Scott for what he has done for Grandpa's car. He was just telling me about it."

"Hum! Nobody ever thanked me like that. Another couple of minutes of that and you two would have been breaking some law. How far did he get?"

"He mentioned improved armor and said the weapons have been improved but didn't say how."

"I got distracted."

"So I could tell. If you don't mind, I'll carry on from here. Hate for you to get 'distracted' and forget something."


Lee thought back over the day as he sat looking in his rear view mirror. It had started when the Russians came ashore along the east coast. Since he lived over one hundred miles inland, there seemed little need to panic. He had heard the prophetic warnings and prepared for this time. All day long, the day before a steady stream of vehicles and people had been going past his home. He had spent the day getting ready to leave, along with his wife and two children. Late in the evening he had sent them to bed saying that he would keep watch until they had to pull out. He had watched the flow of people past his home. The steady hum of them slowly lulled him to sleep.

Lee woke with a start and realized he'd been sleeping. He looked at his watch. it was almost one A.M. He had planned on getting everyone up at two, so he thought to himself that there was no harm done. But something was different he noticed. At first he couldn't figure it out. Then it came to him. Everything sounded as quiet as usual. Where was the noise of people leaving the battle area? Picking up his keys and a pair of binoculars, he had quietly eased himself out the side door of the home, and on foot went to the top level of a parking garage in a near by industrial park. From here he could get a clear view of the closeby interstate highway. What he had seen had shaken him badly. The was no traffic on the road, because of the Russian tanks parked on it. One facing each direction. He knew a back way out of town, but the race was on for sure. As he got close to the house he pushed the remote button for the garage door. Nothing happened. He looked around and suddenly noticed all the street lights were out. Being a full moon, he hadn't noticed before. Lee had re-entered his home as he had left and woke his family.There was near panic as he told them of what he had seen and got everyone into the vehicles to leave. He released the door from the inside and it opened easily. A quick prayer was said before leaving, with the encouragement for more to be said as they left.

They were the last to make it out of town. Within minutes of them leaving, the encirclement of the city was complete. No one else got out. Lee had gone by back roads to a wooded area he knew out, where they could hopefully hide for a day or two before having to move on. He had taken only roads that their cars could make it down, and yet here he was in the middle of the forest, alone. He didn't see Sue stop. But she wasn't there any more. He waited for a few minutes thinking that she would catch up to him. But they didn't show. Finally he turned the car around and went back to find his wife and children. He found them, about three miles back. When he arrived, Travis his son, was leaning against the front of the car, with a pump shotgun in his hands.

He looked at his father and answered his unspoken question before he could ask. "Mom ran out of gas."

Lee stopped in his tracks. He returned to his car and got a five gallon can out of the trunk. As he did so, he didn't know if he should laugh or cry. Laugh because his family was alive and free, for the time being at least. Or get upset with his wife. He had told her countless times;

"Honey, if you're only going to put in half a tank, make it the upper half. I promise you each half costs the same as the other, and so if you run out of money, at least you have gas."

She never did listen to him. Now it was going to cost half of what little fuel they had. He decided to let it pass. There were more important things to worry about at the moment. As he was pouring the gas into the car, he heard the helicopters before he saw them. It was the first hopeful thing he had seen all day. A flight of six American helicopters came overhead. They were much to low to be searching for anyone, and they seemed to have an unbelievable amount of rockets or something like that, on them. He knew they were on their way to attack someone. Which made him all the more happy that he had taken this route. Soon they were on their way again, and the trip passed without incident. After about half an hour, Lee pulled over to the side of the dirt road and stopped. He walked back to the other car.

"Travis. I want you to do like you did earlier and stand guard." Turning to his wife he said; "Honey, we've been staying off the main roads. But right up ahead is a place where we have to travel on one for a little while. I want to sneak up there, through the woods, and take a look. You and Sandra stay here with Travis. And Honey, if you hear any shooting, don't wait for me. I might not be coming back. You just take the kids and go. Go anywhere. Just try to get away from the shooting." Before she could answer him, he quickly kissed her and headed off into the woods.

Lee was easing himself up to the edge of the road when he heard the helicopters again. Looking up he saw them. Four of the ones that had gone out were headed back to where ever they came from. One of them was trailing smoke, and another was clearly having control problems. Lee paused a moment and said a silent prayer for not only the men in the choppers, but also the ones who hadn't come back. He continued to make his way to the road and when he reached it he glanced to his left. The road was clear. Turning to his right, at first, he shrank back. Then he looked again. The two vehicles in the road were like nothing he had ever seen before. More importantly, they were both riddled with bullet holes. Lee walked around to the back of the nearest one and opened the hatch type door he found there. He knew there would be dead people inside, but never expected what he found. Bullets, shrapnel, and other debris didn't have the power to exit the vehicle. So they had bounced around inside of it, but for the men there it was like being inside a meat grinder for the last few seconds of their lives. Lee did manage to think of grabbing a rifle that almost fell on him when he opened the door. Other than that, he quickly closed the door. He wouldn't have gone near the other vehicle, except as he was about to leave, he heard a squawking sound coming from it. Being better prepared this time, he opened the door to find the source of the noise. Unbelievably, on one side was a radio strapped into a bracket on the wall. Everything was written in Russian, but he took it anyway. The numbers were in English, and he could figure the rest of it out as he went along. He found a case used for carrying the radio, and it came with a spare antenna. Throwing his one prize over his shoulder, and carrying the other in his hand he set off back the way he had come. As he was getting close to the cars the sound of his wife and daughter screaming came at almost the same moment as an angry man's voice, speaking a language he didn't know.

"You leave them alone!" Came a challenge from Travis.

There was more shouting in the strange language. Suddenly there was a blast from the shotgun. Then Travis called out again.

"Don't do it!" A moment later the shotgun roared out again. As he reached the edge of the treeline, Lee realized that Travis might be a little trigger happy, as they called it, and so he stopped and called out.

"Travis, it's me. Dad. I'm coming out. Is everyone okay?"

"Not everyone."

"What do you mean? Who got hurt? What happened?" Lee was asking as he came through the brush.

"We're fine Dad. He's the one who got hurt. Let me start at the beginning. A little bit after you left I went to those bushes back there to, well, you know. I couldn't go with Mom and Sandra right there.So anyway, while I was doing what I had to, that guy shows up out of nowhere. I don't know what happened, but he was already bleeding when he got here. I think he just wanted the car. He didn't seem to be really all that interested in Mom, just the car. I told him to stop. But he wouldn't. I had to shoot him, Dad. I didn't want to kill him, so I shot him in the leg. And then, I couldn't believe it. He tried to reach for his pistol. I warned him, but he went for it. I had to shoot him again." He looked at his father, with confusion on his face. "Am I in trouble?"

"No son. You're not in trouble. I hate to say it, but this is war. You did what you had to do. There is no wrong in it." Lee went to his wife to check on her. Sue was still sitting behind the wheel of the car. She looked at him as he came to her.

"These kinds of things never happen at home. I want to go home."

"Honey, we can't do that. You know we can't do that."

"I want to go home. Everything is safe there. I want to go home." She was starting to get louder.

"Honey. The Russians have our home. We can't go back. They will kill us if we try."

"I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home." She was almost becoming shrill. From the corner of his eye he could see his children were becoming frightened. He felt trapped. In all their years together, he had never done anything like he did now. He slapped her. Shocked by the slap, Sue looked at him for a moment and then crumpled behind the wheel and began to cry.

Lee looked at his children who were 14 and 16 years old. Far too young for something like this. "Travis, Terry, listen. I would never hurt your mother. You know that don't you?"

"Hey Dad. It's okay. We understand." Travis answered.

"Yeah. Mom was starting to scare me. I know you had to do that." The younger Terry said.

"Thanks kids. Travis, it looks like we are going to find out if your driving lessons took. I need you to take over for your mother. When we pull out, stay close behind me and don't stop unless or until I do."

As they got under way once again, Lee was having a mixture of thoughts. He cursed himself for not making sure that his wifes' car had gas in the first place. He thought about how lucky they had been already. He didn't know if any other people had gotten out at the last minute, but it seemed they were at best only half a step ahead of the invading forces. Then he remembered. Hadn't he been the one that had started taking end time prophecy more seriously in the past year or so? Hadn't he been the one who had at least put away a few things 'just in case'? But he had never been that kind of man before. He had done alot to make himself ready for this day. Thanks to the fact he had noticed how certain prophecies were starting to happen. Lee paused. He knew he was wrong. He hadn't done anything. It was The Lord who had pushed him into doing those things. It was The Lord who had caused him to wake, just in time to avoid becoming Russian prisoners. What he had done was, he had depended on himself. When he did, he fell asleep and almost lost everything, including his family. As they continued westward he started to have a long and meaningful conversation with The Lord, like he hadn't done in years, and repented of his pride. Soon they reached a fork in the road. One fork leading northwest, and the other leading southwest. Lee prayed.

"Lord which way do I go? I know if I do what I think is best, it'll probably be wrong. Which way do we go Lord?"

As he slowed for the stop sign, a dove suddenly flew up out of the brush next to the road. It headed right down the road in front of him until it reached the fork, then it turned right, and headed northwest. Lee smiled to himself and hit the turn signal for his son to see. Then he turned right and continued on.

The Sheriff really wondered if anything he was telling Ashley was getting through to her. Still he explained how the outside weapons were now set to fire independently, in series, or in extreme situations, all at once. He told her of improvements to the bulletproof glass, and was pleasantly surprised when she actually repeated the important parts of everything he'd said, back to him once he was done. It was at this point that Scott brought up something that had been on his mind.

"Sheriff, have you thought about what we're going to do now? I mean with the Russians attacking us, I'm thinking there are going to be a lot of people headed this way. I imagine most of them scared to death and hungry."

"I know. Much as I hate to say it, we're going to have to start our own militia. We are going to have to look after our own. I'd like to ask you to spread the word that I'm asking for everyone that was with us against the gang to meet with me tomorrow morning at Ring Park. We need to get organized."

"Will do."

By the time the Sheriff arrived at the park the next day, it looked as if Scott must have knocked on every door in town, so many people showed up. By this time everyone knew what had happened. The men, and quite a number of women had shown up at the park, armed. They knew this was a fight just to stay alive and free. They weren't going to walk away after they had handled the gang members. Not one of them considered not bringing a weapon and some had brought more than one. As he looked out on the crowd he was reminded of the observation of Admiral Yamamoto during World War II when he was asked about invading America. He advised against it because the Japanese military would find a man with a gun behind every blade of grass. These people were proving the truth of that statement. Registered firearms had been turned in. Unregistered firearms had not. It was those weapons they had brought with them, no matter what the law said. But there were a number of questions as well.

"Sheriff, if all those folks in Washington are dead, who's running the show?"

"Right now things are still getting sorted out. For the most part state governors are taking command of any and all troops within their own states. The Regional Directors, such as Mr. Claire, are co-ordinating things between the different regions. But don't kid yourself. Things are bad, and getting worse. Our forces inside the states are spread all over the place and they were caught just as unaware as we were. So we are going to have to protect ourselves. That is why I've asked you all to come here today. I'd like to ask any of you who have any kind of military training to step to the plate. You will be the first ones considered for leadership positions."

The meeting went on for over two hours, but before the end of the day, over two hundred people had come to the sheriffs office to tell about their military experience. Most of them had been cooks, clerks, truck drivers and that sort of thing. But all of them understood that as a soldier their first duty was to be a combat soldier. The fact that they understood that made them acceptable for training others in the art of warfare. The Sheriff knew that two hundred people would never be enough to fight off the entire Russian army. But at least they could make them pay heavily for every inch of ground they took. In the mean time, loved ones could manage to get out of harms way. At this point, that was all he could ask.

The American nation had been founded on men who would hide behind trees, mounds of earth, even dense clumps of brush and fire on their enemy. The Sheriff knew it was time to return to the basics. He remembered the old saying, 'You can't capture a free man. The most you can do is kill him'. He worked almost frantically at getting a roster drawn up of men he could depend on. Men who wouldn't throw down their weapons at the first sign of trouble and surrender. He looked for men, and women, who would rather die where they stood, than give an inch to the enemy. It wasn't long before he knew he was going to need help in the matter. He looked over the records of the men who had volunteered to find someone that could handle all of the paperwork, so he would be free to attend to training these people as best as he could. He soon found that, when threatened, most of the veterans stepped up and took their place in the line as a matter of honor. Many of them either had or quickly learned the skills needed to help out with the job. Scott and Curtis had never served in uniform, but both were well known and respected in the county. It wasn't long before both had sewn Sargent's strips on their sleeves and were doing their best to make all of the new 'recruits' understand the seriousness of the situation. He knew the local men and women were patriots, but even he was amazed at how quickly they began to behave as soldiers instead of civilians. He realized they knew their freedom depended on all of them working together, instead of each man for himself. Even Ashley had stepped foreward to do what she could. While there was no challange to her being in 'the tank' as everyone now thought of her car, nobody complained when she showed up to undergo what little combat training that the Sheriff had to offer. Things didn't get really intense, until Officer Thomas who happened to be a former Ranger, handed the Sheriff a book. It was entitled "The Ranger Handbook" ST-21-75-2 and was full of information that was far more than just useful. He read, copied and posted around town the Rangers Creed, and the rules laid down by Major Robert Rodgers when the group was first formed, before the American Revolution. The rules were,

1. Don't forget nothing.

2. Have your musket clean as a whistle, hatchet scoured, sixty rounds powder and ball and be ready to march at a minutes warning.

3. When you're on the march, act the way you would if you was sneaking up on a deer. See the enemy first.

4. Tell the truth about what you see and what you do. There is an army depending on us for correct information. You can lie all you please when you tell other folks about the Rangers, but don't ever lie to a Ranger or an officer.

5. Don't ever take a chace you don't have to.

6. When on the march, we march single file. Far enough apart that one musket ball won't pass through two men.

7. If we strike swamps, or soft ground, we spread out abreast. So it is hard to track us.

8. When we march, we keep moving 'till dark. So as to give the enemy the least possible chance at us.

9. When we camp, half the party stays awake while the other half sleeps.

10. If we take prisoners, we keep them seperate 'till we have a chance to examine them. So they can't cook up a story between them.

11. Don't ever march home the same way. Take a different route so you won't be ambushed.

12. No matter if we travel in big parties or little ones, each party has to keep a scout twenty yards ahead. twenty yards on each flank, and twenty yards to the rear. So the main body can't be surprised and wiped out.

13. Every night, you'll be told where to meet if surrounded by a superior force.

14. Don't sit down to eat without posting sentries.

15. Don't sleep beyond dawn. Dawn's when the French and Indians attack

16. Don't cross a river by a regular ford.

17. If somebodies trailing you, make a circle. Come back on your tracks, and ambush the folks that aim to ambush you.

18. Don't stand up when the enemy's coming at you. Knell down, lie down, hide behind a tree.

19. Let the enemy come 'till he's almost close enough to touch. Then let him have it and jump out and finish him up with your hatchet.

It seemed like a good plan to the Sheriff.

Lee wasn't sure how to take what had been happening lately. It had taken a few days to finally get ahead of the invading Russians. At first men in uniform simply looked at him and his family as they went past heading away from the invaders, while the men in uniform were heading towards them. Then he started to repeatedly get stopped at hurriedly constructed check points, and asked for identification. He noticed also that while most people were instinctively seeking shelter in the cities, on many occasions the instructions given him at the check points directed him towards the cities. It seemed to him that the people were being corralled without their knowledge. Well, he had just escaped one of the eastern cities. He knew better than to go back into one. But that didn't mean his wife agreed with him.

"Honey, we CAN'T go back into the city. ANY city. We barely got out of the last one. Do want to go through that again?"

"But we can't just wander around the countryside either. What are we going to do? We don't have a home. The children are missing school, and what are you going to do about getting a job? We can't spend the rest of our lives on a camping trip." Sue responded.

Lee sighed. She still hadn't accepted the reality of the situation, even after what had already happened. He had to find a way to snap her out of her denial.

"Sweetheart, listen to me. You know how short food was getting back home. Do you think it's going to be any better in any other city? I don't. But if we go to one of these little out of the way towns, I'm sure I can find some kind of work. And besides, if worst comes to worst I can do a little fishing or hunting to help feed us. We can get the kids in the local school before they miss too much time, and I'm sure we won't be the only ones with incomplete records. They'll just have to test the children as they come and figure out where they belong."

He could see his argument was starting to sway Sue, but he knew if this was going to work, she had to believe it was her idea. Best not to push it.

"Look honey, for right now all the cities that are closest to the fighting are going to have the worst problems. There are more big towns further away from the coast that we can go to, but right now going to a nearby city is going to be a bad idea. Let's get further away from the danger first."

The mention of possible danger did the trick. Lee could see his wife was remembering what had happened with the enemy soldier, and Travis.

"Alright. It is a good idea to get further away from the fighting. We don't want to children involved in that any more than whats' already happened. Let's go ahead and get a little higher up in the mountains. Then we'll figure out where to go."

"I think that's a good idea." Lee answered. They had gotten into their cars and continued on their way. It was the next morning that he first ran into something he hadn't thought of. This was no ordinary check point. It was about a mile outside of where the map said there should be a small town. None of the men there were in uniform, but it was obvious that they meant business. There had to be a half a dozen men at the check point. All of them were armed, and they were all keenly aware of what was going on around them. They waited for a short time for someone to come by and say or do something, when Lee noticed that a young black man was going from car to car, seemingly asking a few questions and then either giving the go ahead for the vehicle to proceed through the check point, or he turned them away and made them leave. Lee didn't know what kind of weapon the man had on his shoulder, but he could tell it was some sort of shotgun, and just by the looks of it, he didn't want to give this fellow a hard time. Finally, he approached Lee.

"Good morning. Would you mind turning off your engine?" He asked.

Lee did so and then asked, "I don't mind, but why?"

"Because I have to stand out here and smell it. Some of these cars that come thorough here are in pretty bad shape." He smiled at Lee. He seemed pleasant enough, but that shotgun commanded respect. "Are you traveling alone?"

"No. My wife and children are in the car behind me. There's four us all together."

"Anyone besides your family in these cars?"

"Just us. Can I ask what this is all about?"

"We're taking precautions about who gets let into town and who doesn't. I'm sure you understand, given the circumstances." Curtis looked closely at Lee. "Have you brought anything with you to care for your family, or are you looking for help? AND is there anything to recommend you to this community? By that I mean, what skills do you have that would benefit all of us?"

"I managed to put aside a little food for my family. But it isn't enough to share if that's what your thinking. As far as skills goes, I'm a carpenter. I'm kind of short on tools right now, but I can still swing a hammer."

Curtis looked at him. "Let me see your hands."

Lee held them out the window. Palms down first, for Curtis to see the little tell-tale scars that appear on the backs of the hands of a working man, and then palm up. To show the calluses formed by countless hours doing hard physical work.

"Yeah, your hands look like it. Alright, just two more questions. Who is Jesus Christ?"

"The Son of God." Lee looked at him quizzically.

"Are you sure of that?"

Lee felt himself starting to get a little hot under the collar. Who was this guy to be asking such things? He decided to just lay it on the line. If others couldn't accept his beliefs, then he didn't want to be here anyway.

"YES! I AM sure. Who do you think you are?"

"I'm the guy who decides if you get into town or not. Now, settle down and answer one more thing for me. Does the rest of your family feel the same way?"

That brought Lee up short. He realized he had started to slip back into his old habits. He was depending on himself again. He took a breath and let it out before answering. "Our children are still in their early teens. They are still learning. But my wife and I believe."

Curtis nodded his head. "Okay. That will do for now. There are a couple of things you need to know, so listen carefully. You will be led to an area where you can make the best camp as you can. We'll try to help, but you have to provide as much as possible for your own family. Secondly, you are responsible for your family. That means if your children have a problem with somebody else, it is going to be up to you to make sure they didn't do anything wrong, or were the ones who started the trouble. Finally, as you can see there are a lot of people trying to find shelter. We can't handle everyone at once. You must be patient. We will get to your case as soon as we can, but it may take awhile. Understand?"

Lee nodded and thought how it all seemed reasonable. He could go along with this so far. At least they didn't ask about guns. He would have a hard time explaining those. Curtis turned away and signaled a uniformed law enforcement officer to himself.

"I'm passing these people for processing in the campground. Would you take them there?"

"Sure thing."

The officer went to Lee's car and after asking, climbed in the front next to him.

"Just take this road about a mile on down. There is a campground on the right side. That's where you'll be staying for awhile. Have you got a tent or something?"

"A small one. Just big enough for us. I never thought it would be more than us." Lee wondered just how bad things were.

"It's not like that. We aren't asking you to share. But it's helpful to know who need what. If we can help, we do. No, your tent is yours. But we might ask for any help you can give. What did you used to do?" The man asked casually.

"I was a carpenter. Think there might be something I can do around here?"

"I'd say that depends on what you're talking about. What kind of carpenter? Finish? Framing? Fencing?"

"At one time or another, all of the above." Lee smiled. "A mans' got to do something to keep food on the table."

"Did you ever 'boss' a job, or were you free lance?"

"A little of both. I was just getting started out on my own when all of this happened. Why all the questions?"

"I know the higher ups around here are looking for someone to help with getting things done on housing all these people. Someone who can deal with the unusual, think outside the normal ways of doing things and getting the job done. I think maybe you should check into it, if you're up to it that is."

"I will. Thanks."

Later that afternoon, after they had gotten their camp established, Lee told his family about the possibility of a job. He was excited about it, and thought that if there were no chance of him getting top spot, there was still an immediate need for his skill. Things were starting to look up. As soon as he got the job, he would begin to find some way to get his family into a home. The children began to talk excitedly about what they thought their new home would be like. Which led to talk about what the neighborhood and it's people would be like. Soon they were sounding like nothing had changed at all in the world. Lee marveled at them, while noticing his wife had very little to say about anything. It wasn't until later that Lee found out what was on her mind.

"Why didn't you get us a place to stay instead of letting them stick us in this place?"

"Honey. Be reasonable. Look at how many people are here. Most of them before we got here. Now you think we should get bumped to the front of the line? What makes us so special?"

"You said they needed you, so that means you can get us a house."

"Sue. I haven't even had a chance to talk with anyone about the job yet. I hardly think that makes me able to do anything."

"Well, it's your fault we are out here in the middle of nowhere. So the least you can do is get us a place to stay." With that she turned her back on Lee and said more to herself than any others there, "I hate camping."

"Well, Curtis, how's it going?" The Sheriff asked. "Any of the newcomers giving you any problems?"

"For the most part, no. The people who make it through the check point seem to be glad to have a place where they can quit running for a little bit, and try to figure out what to do next." He shook his head. "Some of them though, I swear I'll never understand. People who have been running for their lives are wanting to know when they can expect to go home again. Others are wanting to be assured that their property back home is still going to be there when they do get a chance to go back. They still haven't accepted that we are in a fight for our very survival. Some of them actually seem to think this is all some kind of brief, unpleasant, interruption to their lives and everything will be alright in a week or two."

"Denial." The Sheriff said. "Most people have a hard time believing bad things can happen to even them. And when they do, they expect that the government, or somebody is going to be there to handle their needs. They simply aren't prepared to fend for themselves in a bad situation. How about the rest of them?"

"They all seem to be a good sort of people. But Sheriff, that's the problem. I'm doing the best I can, but I can't tell what is in somebodies mind. I'm afraid that I might be passing people that aren't the kind we want around here. All I have to go on is my gut feeling."

"Curtis, I'd trust your gut over the sworn testimony of a lot of people. Don't worry so much. If they aren't the right kind, they'll show themselves soon enough. In the mean time I've asked Pastor David to work with the group assessing the problem. I'm sure if you missed anything, he'll pick up on it. What about skills these people have? I know Dr. Turner was pleased to find out about those three nurses you found. They've managed to take some of the load off of him."

"A lot of what you'd expect. Carpenters, plumbers, truck drivers, and all sorts of 'working people'. Strangely enough, there are very few of what you might call the 'professional' sort." He paused for a moment. "In a way, I feel kind of good about that. Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm more likely to trust a man with calluses on his hands."

"So where do we stand in the war, Sheriff?" Scott asked.

"From what we've been able to figure out, the Russians have a beach head that runs from near the Canadian border to somewhere in Florida. At least in the areas that aren't radioactive. And they have managed to work their way pretty far inland. The good news is that just like all through history, the locals have the better knowledge of the area and in this case much of the civilian population had firearms to shoot back with." He smiled to himself. "I guess there are some sheriffs that might have a time with re-election next time around. I mean they did such a poor job on firearms collection and everything. Anyway, the Russians are starting to bog down when they get into the foothills of the Appellation Mountains. Our side holds the high ground and are proving to be pretty tough to dig out. The same is true of the swamps further south. They can't get tanks in there, and so the fighting is all man to man, up close and personal."

"That sounds pretty bad. From what I've heard the Russians aren't taking anything from anyone who is behind their side of the line. I had one of the newcomers tell me that one time they shot a dog, because it barked at them when they went past." Curtis said. "And I've been in some of that Southern swamp land. You take one step forward, and go six inches down at the same time. No wonder they can't use tanks off road."

"They can, but they prefer not to. A tank is an open country weapon. They don't do well in cities and thick trees and brush. There's a lot of ways to hit a tank in a city. Just drop something out a window, and suddenly, no more tank. But the kind of fighting that is going on is mostly close range. Usually nothing more than fifty yards. They have become masters of ambush down there from what I hear. And the Russians sure aren't happy about that. As to things further out west, we've lost a lot of ground in Texas and the other boarder states, but it has been a tough fight, and now they are going to be getting assistance from the military, and I expect it is going to be getting a lot tougher after that. Out on the west coast is anybodies guess. After 'the BIG one' earthquake that finally hit, there hasn't been any reliable news from just about anywhere west of the continental divide or south of Sacramento. We just don't know. To the north everything seems to have stalled out in the Dakotas'. The line is just about at the state line."

He stopped for a moment and looked around the table. Looking back were Scott, and Ashley, of course. The two were nearly inseparable. Next to them sat Curtis, and on his right was the now, Sargent Thomas. Dr. Turner was also there, but as usual he spent more time listening than speaking. The Sheriff could think of a few more people he would like to be present, but this was a good start.



"Lady, and Gentlemen. There is no doubt about it, we have formed a militia group. As the county Sheriff, I am it's defacto head. If any of you for any reason," His gaze fell of Scott and Ashely. "May think that now is the time to opt out if you are going to. And you're right. If you stay, then you are going to be in it up to your eyeballs for a long time to come. Dr. Turner, you will be called on to do emergency surgery. Make no mistake about that. And the rest of you will be called on to do things that you aren't even sure can be done, and you'll be expected to succeed. Lives will depend on it. It will be hard, it will be dirty, and half the time you don't know what is going on. But you do your job, because it is your job to do." He paused once again. "So if any of you want out, say it now. We all know one another. Nobody is going to think less of anyone who decides not to go on."

The room remained very quiet for a few very uncomfortable minutes. Finally, it was Dr. Turner who spoke up.

"You know, Harry. From where I sit, I don't see I have a choice. I'm a doctor. My services will be needed. Now I could plead age and stay home treating whoever comes along, but sooner or later, war injuries are going to start showing up. A lot of war injuries I expect. I might as well treat them as soon as I can, than treat them later. Besides, if I'm working for you, you have to get the supplies. I worry about personnel and the people we treat. Agreed?"

He held out his hand.

"Sure thing. You got it Doc." They shook hands. "I'll stay out of your business, and you stay out of mine. Can you get me a list of what you need? I mean everything from paper clips to personnel. We are taking over one of the local clinics to get you set up."

Dr. Turner reached inside his coat and pulled a folded piece of paper out and gave it to the Sheriff. "I thought it would be something like that. This is to begin with. I'll see what else I'll need when we get started. The most important thing is at least one other doctor. I've got to sleep sometime."

The Sheriff pulled his little notebook from his pocket and simply wrote 'doctors'. No other reminder was needed. He looked at the young couple. "Well?"

"I have a question first." Ashley said. "Is what you just did with Dr. Turner legal? I mean, no orders or other thing. Just agree and that's it?"

"Ashley this is not regular military. As militia we basically make up our rules as we go along. Certain things will be similar. I am in command. That means as long as you stay, you obey my orders. You obey the orders of anyone above you in rank. Anyone below you will be expected to obey your orders. But as militia people stay only as long as they want to stay. If they decide to leave, I have no power to stop them."

"It seems a little strange. I mean no oath? And they...we, can walk away anytime we want to do so? It doesn't make sense."

"Truthfully, it makes perfect sense. If you don't think that this country is worth fighting for, I don't want you anywhere near me or my men at any time. And especially when the shooting starts. A man will only stay when he believes in what he is doing. What about the two of you?"

Ashley looked at Scott, hugged his arm a little tighter and smiling at him, nodded.

"Sheriff, this is our land. They have no right to be here and make things worse than they already are. I'm in it for the long haul." Scott looked at Ashley and told her. "I don't have any right to speak for you. You have to make that choice."

"Scott, I lost everything I owned before I got here to a bunch of people who lived in this country. What could make anyone believe that they will be any better off with the Russians? Since I got here, I've found more than I expected to find. And now those people want to take even that away from me? No. I'm not going to let that happen again." She stopped for a moment and looked at the sheriff. "I want to be wherever Scott is assigned to. That's the agreement I want."

"You mean you're NOT joined at the hip? I already figured that much. Yes, you two will serve together. Right now, I'm thinking that the two of you make a good team on that tank Ashley brought with her. I'd like to keep you there. What do you say?"

Scott looked at Ashley. "I will if you will."

She smiled back at him and answered, "You will if I will. And I will." She looked at the Sheriff. "We're in."

He smiled and looked at Curtis and Sargent Thomas. "What do you fellows say? It won't be easy you know."

"I think Scott has already said it. This is our land. We may fight amongst ourselves, but in a case like this, we are all together. Or your on the other side. I'm more convinced as each day goes by that the end times have started. That makes this a part of the final war of good against evil. God against Satan. Not today of course, but it won't be long for sure. How can I not take a stand against evil?"

"Well, about the only thing I can say is that I agree with the rest here. Plus a personal reason or two. I'm still under oath, Sheriff. What do you want me to do?"




Commander Robins didn't really care for this part of the job. Having to speak with people who could barely say a word, after his interrogators got through with them, sometimes upset his stomach. But this one was in halfway decent shape. He could actually see through the eye that wasn't swollen shut.

"Are you ready to listen?"

The man stared at Robins with his one good eye. "What is it you want me to do?"

The Commander reached into his pocket, and pulled from it a small device. "We have had some trouble with the some of outlying regions. Local people banding together and forming militias. As if they could stand against the entire Russian Army. The point is that these militia cimmanders don't make regular reports. They feel as if we are being intrusive, and so resist what is actually best for the country. You can see that, can't you?"

"Yeah, sure. You can't tell what they might do. I want to see my family."

"Ah yes. Your family. They have been taken care of, and as soon as you return from this one little mission I have for you, you will all be reunited."

His head was swimming. Partially with pain, but also the thought of being reunited with his family sent his mind racing. Where would they go? How would they get there? What did this man want him to do before they could get free?

"What do you want me to do?"

During the course of the next few weeks, things began to fall into place. The Sheriff managed to link up with what authority was left, and found that his orders were coming from Director Claire, through Commander Robins. He didn't like that, but found later, it could be a useful connection. He neither liked nor trusted either of the men.

Robins was obviously in it for the power it gave him over other people. The man enjoyed controlling others, and stealing their property when he was finished with them. It was called confiscation for the good of the people. It was ruled that since the people arrested were in fact enemies of the people, then their property should be forfeited to the people's use. Yet somehow the best things that were confiscated wound up in his possession. The Sheriff knew that whatever orders came from him would be the kind that would profit Robins, no matter how many of the Sheriffs men got killed in the process.

Director Claire was another matter entirely. He had only met Claire on two occasions. The first was at a conference of county sheriffs, statewide. The other was at an award ceremony for a fellow sheriff. On both occasions he had found Claire to be a man that seemed to radiate pure evil. His eyes were constantly moving, and missing nothing. Yet when he looked at you, it was as if you was looking into the deepest darkest recess of evil you could imagine. Those eyes seemed almost soulless. Whatever orders came from him would be automatically suspect in his mind.

So far he hadn't gotten around to notifying either of them about the local militia. And when orders came to him telling him to start one. He immediately send a message back stating that he could do no such thing, unless he could arm and supply those who answered the call to duty. He was surprised when a couple of weeks later four military trucks pulled up in front of his office and began to unload weapons, ammunition, equipment, and just as Dr. Turner had asked, many medical supplies. He also received an order to begin forming his militia, and report in on their progress. They were needed at the front, as soon as possible. The sheriff knew he would have to come up with something to keep his people as close to home as possible.

While the sheriff played cat and mouse with the government types that were almost constantly badgering him, Scott and Ashley were mainly used to transport orders from the sheriff to local unit commanders, as well as transporting much needed supplies. Things had been bad enough before, but now with the invasion, society was breaking down. People no longer even considered it stealing when they took something. It was necessary to survival. That was all the justification they needed. If it had to be done at the point of a gun, then so be it. On two occasions the couple had, had to do some fancy driving to escape from an attempted road block and carjacking. One time, the car had stopped and when men came out of the woods on the side of the road, Ashley armed the outside defenses for Scott's side of the car. Suddenly all of the men had some place better to be and went away. She was grateful she didn't have to fire. She understood how things like that could happen. She truly felt sorry for the people that had become so desperate. She wanted to help them all. To feed them, clothe them, and make all their problems go away. It was heartbreaking to see it happen. Just a few years ago everyone thought that such things were impossible. It was Pastor David that made her understand a lot of the 'why's' people were asking. She was listening to him one Sunday morning as she sat next to Scott in church.

"I hear all the time people asking 'Why would God judge America? We've done so much for Him.' I'll tell you why. Do you know what America's biggest export is these days? Pornography. That is what we export more of than anything else. How is God supposed to bless that? How can you expect blessings on a nation that kills over four thousand babies a day through abortion? Especially when it was God who told us in His Holy Word that he will NOT hold blameless those who shed innocent blood. This nation has fallen far from God's ways, and now we are just starting to pay the price for it. Things will get worse, because we are under judgment. And the only thing you can do is to repent of your sinful ways and turn to The Lord. Does that mean you won't get hurt? No it doesn't. We as a nation have committed these sins, and it is we as a nation that are being punished for that sin. The Lord will take care of his own, but he whom The Lord loveth, He chastises. Don't go thinking that you are going to get off scott free."


Curtis wound up becoming a one man intelligence service at first. While he had misgivings about his abilities in discerning what people were like, The Sheriff had no reservations at all. Truthfully he was a perfect choice for the job. His manner was so easy going that he put people at ease and soon they would be chatting like they were old friends. While he didn't find a doctor, he did turn up a medical student who was well advanced in his studies, needing only another two years before he could take his board exams. Dr. Turner jumped at the chance to put him to work.

He was disappointed by one thing. While everyone that had entered the camp were Christians, many of them were nominal at best. And it seemed that even after being driven from their homes, most wanted 'the army' or someone else to do the fighting to get their homes back. Only a few were willing to take up arms and help. He was certain that this would become a problem before long. After all, these people were living in the same community as those who were going to war. It would make for a lot of hard feelings, he could tell.


Sargent Thomas became militia Lieutenant Thomas and was given a platoon of men to work with and train, as best as he could. It was on one of his training exercises he and the rest of his platoon were taken totally by surprise by the Russians. He was schooling his men in how to remain undetected by the enemy. They had all done well in their efforts at cover and concealment that afternoon. He had placed his men encircling a pasture, so he could move easily from man to man checking on them. As he was doing so, he heard the sound of a helicopter. He quickly ducked into the brush and waited. It wasn't long before a Russian helicopter dropped from the sky right into the middle of the pasture his men had surrounded, and began to off-load a couple of squads of hard looking men in battle dress and carrying fully automatic weapons. They dismounted quickly and took up defensive positions around the chopper, until it lifted off again. Once it had, they prepared themselves to move out on their mission. That's when Thomas gave the order to fire. Surrounded, with no cover to speak of and taken completely off guard, they went down without having a chance to fire a shot.

Yes, things were shaping up, but they still had a long way to go.

The Russian forces had made considerable progress advancing against the American population. Since the landings they had advanced more than two hundred miles inland. While there had been some resistance, it had mostly come from civilians armed only with semi-automatic weapons at best, and no explosives. They were without air or artillery support for the most part. And while progress had been made, the resistance was quite a bit stiffer than they had expected. The Americans just didn't want to give up anything. Still, since they were individuals fighting against an organized and well trained force, it was only a matter of time before all resistance crumbled before them.

Lieutenant Thomas had gotten the heads up that the Russian forces were making an push into the area. He knew that with support vehicles and the hilly terrain they would have to follow the local roads if they expected to make any real progress at all. The main road heading west from the coast passed through a valley not far from the town, and this was the place he had chosen to engage them. He had gone against standard doctrine while training his men. Standard practice was to employ squads of around eleven men along a line to halt and turn back the enemy advance. Thomas knew that the problem with this was that if the enemy managed to get some of his people to the left or right of the line, they could simply roll right along that line taking out anyone in front of them. It was time for a new plan. Instead of training his men to operate as an eleven man squad, he broke them up into three man teams. Four teams to a squad, four squads to a platoon. This had two benefits.

Three men traveling together were far less noticeable than eleven. And, secondly having four teams in the same area, while not together, allowed them to cover a larger area while on patrol. And they were able to come to the assistance of each other, should one team run into trouble. Another benefit was that while they supported each other, they were not tied down to a set plan. In a way, it was a bit like trying to fight a swarm of bees for the Russians. Every time they focused on one point where fire was coming from, two or three more points of fire would show up from nowhere, cutting them to pieces in a crossfire that seemed to come from everywhere, and yet nowhere all at once. In the hilly countryside it was almost impossible to direct any kind of supporting artillery fire. There was no fixed target on which to concentrate their fire. Tanks were the most effective weapon against them. At least the tank commander could see where the fire was coming from, and could direct his main weapon against them. On the other side of the same coin, it also made the tanks prime targets for the Americans.They had quickly learned how to use command detonated bombs against the Russian forces. Explosives were buried under the road, by tunneling in from the side so as to not leave a trace of what was planned, and they wouldn't be used as men walked over them. But when a vehicle passed over, the button was pushed, and the explosives destroyed or disabled the vehicle. Often the loss of a vehicle was the first sign the invaders had that they had walked into an ambush. Few of them ever walked out again. It wasn't long before the Russians learned the same lesson from the Americans, that had been taught to them by the people of Afghanistan so long ago. The Russians could take the cities. But the Americans controlled the countryside. When it came to controlling the countryside, the Russians could bomb them all they wanted. But to take possession of the area, they had to put men on the ground in that area. That is where they started to lose men, vehicles and equipment in large numbers. This was the lesson that Lieutenant Thomas intended to re-enforce.

He had his men on the slopes of the valley the Russians had entered. And to his credit, the Russian commander took every precaution against being hit from the sides. He had even called in artillery to blast the hill sides before moving his men into the area. He made one serious mistake. He hadn't counted on the defending Americans digging in. He had believed the assault was such a surprise that they wouldn't have time to prepare positions in defense. He was wrong. Even those who hadn't dug in, had small ravines in which they could take cover when the artillery began to hammer the hillsides. When the barrage lifted the Russians could advance, and the Americans came out of their hiding places and waited in ambush. The Russian commander also sent men to the right and left flanks for the purpose of preventing an ambush. But with the constant up and down travel on the hill sides they ended up actually slowing the advance. He decided to pull them in and simply make a blitzkrieg type movement into the valley. He wanted to take the high ground from his enemy so that from that point, they could provide cover for the units on his flanks. Sending the tanks in first with the infantry following close behind, he was certain they could take the ground, since the Americans lacked any armored vehicles of their own.

While the slope wasn't particularly steep, it did require effort on the part of the infantry to maintain pace with the four tanks that were ahead of them. And knowing an attack could come at any time they stayed as close to them as they could. Lieutenant Thomas knew they would stay that close and made plans accordingly. He picked up his radio and called one of the men.

"Lee. Is everything set?"

"Yes Sir. We're ready when you are."

"Do it."

"We're sending the mail now."

The militia had no anti tank weapons, so it had become necessary to improvise. While discussing this with others one evening, it was an off-hand comment by Ashley that had given him an idea.

"Too bad you can't do what they did to the Germans in WW II."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they are the ones who invented Molotov cocktails. At least that's what they taught me in school. But I don't suppose you could get close enough to use them out on the roads."

He'd thought about it. She was right of course. He knew because he himself had always been a big history buff. He had prayed about it one night, and he got his answer in a dream. He had some of his men build old fashioned catapults. While another group put together barrel shaped containers These were then filled with gas, oil, or any other highly flammable liquid they could find. Detonators were attached to the outside of the barrels, which would go off when they were struck with enough force. The result was an incendiary type bomb that the catapults could throw at the enemy. They now rained down on the Russian tanks. The result was utter chaos. Because the barrels were thrown, instead of being fired, there was no muzzle flash or heat signature the tanks fire control systems could lock on to. And the fact the barrels were being thrown over a hill, the catapults couldn't be seen and taken out. Spotters that had hidden themselves where they could see what was happening directed the catapults as they reloaded and launched again.

The lead Russian tank was the first one to be hit, and as it burned, it effectively blocked the road so that no further advance could be made. The following tankers, not wanting to share the same fate, did everything they could to avoid being hit. Which was very unfortunate for the infantry that had been following so closely behind each tank. They were simply run over by the metal monsters as they attempted to escape. Before long three of the tanks sat burning in the road, until the heat set off rounds inside the turret. They blew apart at the seams. The infantrymen who hadn't been killed by their own tanks were now in full retreat along with the sole surviving vehicle. What they didn't know was the Americans had already moved in behind them, on both flanks. Explosives planted under the road put an end to the final tank, and the foot soldiers ran a gauntlet of small arms fire in their attempt to escape. Very few made it.

The man had arrived in town after having been severely beaten. It wasn't hard to convince them he was a refugee. He had been raised in a 'Christian' home, so he knew all the right things to say and do to get in with the other refugees. Soon he joined the local militia group to fight against the Russians. He worked hard to please the Lieutenant. He had even preformed above expectations in combat against the Russian forces. It wasn't long before it was clear to all that he was an intelligent and capable man. He was given command of a squad of men and had carried out his assignments with little to no trouble. When he had been offered the chance to lead a couple of squads to take over the fuel depot that Robins had set up for Britt to use, he took the chore without hesitation. The night before the take over was to take place, he had gotten a message to Robins telling him to not allow the guards resist in any way. But make it look real. This would surely give him the chance that he needed and Commander Robins wanted.

When the time arrived the next day, he had his plans all worked out. One squad would break up into teams covering all four corners of the depot. He would lead the second squad right up to the gate and demand the surrender of all inside. The officer inside had to be complimented on his performance. He made a good show of it. Walking to the gate with a weapon in his hand, as if he were ready to take on all of them by himself. He blustered loudly about the fuel belonging to the government and how he wouldn't turn it over to them.

The man thundered back about how the fuel was needed by the government to use for the militia so they could operate. It went on for some time before the show of force and the promise of allowing the men inside to leave instead of being taken prisoner that finally turned the tide. The show had the desired effect. He was being taken to meet The Sheriff. That is what he had wanted all along. That is what he needed. After all, Commander Robins had made it very clear to him. If he ever expected to be reunited with his family, he had to get this job done.

"Look here young man, I'm not asking you to kill someone. But you have to understand my position. I'm supposed to be co-ordinating this sector of the front. How can I do that if these local militia leaders don't tell me what they are doing?" He had made it seem so reasonable. "All I'm asking you to do is to put this on the underside of the leaders vehicle, without getting caught doing it, of course. Then come back here and you will be reunited with your family. After that, I'm not going to be looking for you, if you take my meaning."

Just put the tracking device on The Sheriff's car, and get out. Then he could take his wife and children someplace safe. They could get out of this madness.

He spent the late afternoon with The Sheriff. They spoke of the things he had achieved so far, and what lessons he thought might be passed along to the men and other leaders. Later on he was invited to have dinner with The Sheriff and his staff. As the evening grew on, he found himself liking this man. He was straight forward in speech and manor. He was sincerely concerned for the men and women under his command. He could easily see why he didn't trust Robins. But what could he do? Robins had his family. Later on that evening as the talk went on and on, he excused himself to get some fresh air.

He spied the car used by The Sheriff as he walked outside, and casually strolled over to it. He leaned against the side of it, next to the rear tire. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the stars. The fingers of his left hand closed around the bug. He leaned further back, gazing at the stars and reached out with his left hand to steady himself when he leaned too far. He grabbed the fender well, and gripped tightly for a moment. When his had came away the device he had placed on the inside of the well activated. He turned and slowly walked back inside. He knew Robins wouldn't fire on the first target he got. The device had been planted, but it was done when The Sheriff wasn't near. Best to wait for the vehicle to move and then stop.

It wasn't until he left to rejoin his unit, later that night before he gave any thought to leaving. He certainly didn't want to be around if the bug was found. Besides, he'd done his job. Now he could get his family and get out of this mess. He still hadn't figured out that when Commander Robins had offered to reunite them, he was planning on burying him in the same grave.


Scott and Ashley sat on the front porch of Mrs. Campbell's home. Whenever duties didn't call them elsewhere, they would be found in the small love seat, talking.

"Scott. What do you think of everything that's going on? I don't mean the war exactly, but,...well, everything. The Russians aren't doing very well, thank The Lord. And we seem to be doing well so far." Scott looked at her and raised his eyebrows, questioningly. " I mean the people around here. The food shortages aren't too bad out here. And The Sheriff has been able to keep the government off of our shoulders. There must be a reason, shouldn't there?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it. You know that God always has places of refuge for His people, don't you?"

"If they are for all believers, then why are so many dieing?"

"They're not for all believers, only the ones The Lord has chosen. The Lord has His reasons for who lives and who dies, and I sure can't argue with Him. I think that is what this area is becoming. A refuge. And even then we have to keep our guard up. Try to make sure that nobody that serves the other side gets in."

"Do you think we have kept them out?"

"I sure hope so."

They continued to sit together for several more minutes in silence. They knew their time was limited. Soon Scott would head home for the night, and she would go inside. She might sit and talk with Mrs. Campbell for a little while. But for now it was enough to quietly sit in his arms and watch the sun set. Neither of them were ready for the sound of something flying over, low and fast, nearby. They were only slightly prepared for the explosion that followed. It the distance they could see smoke coming from the site. Together they stood at the edge of the porch, holding hands.

"Do you think we should go see if we can do anything?" Ashley asked.

"That's got to be two miles from here. And it is in town. I'm sure The Sheriff can handle it. If he needs us, he knows where we are at." He turned and looked at her. "I better be going. It'll be full dark soon. I'll see you in the morning."

"You bet you will." Ashley told him, and then pulled him close to kiss good night.

After several long moments, she released him and turned to go inside. She stopped as Lieutenant Thomas came screeching to a stop in front of them. He jumped out of the car and shouted as he ran towards them.

"They got The Sheriff."