299 Days: The Stronghold (2 page)

So far, so good, Grant thought. Rich hadn’t dismissed the idea and had asked how “we” can do it.

“Slowly,” Grant said, “and fairly and practically. Here’s what I mean,” Grant said. “Survival is my number one goal and yours. So, survival comes first.”

Rich nodded.

“But politics—God, I hate that word—is a way to help us survive,” Grant said. “By ‘politics,’ I don’t mean the old politics of…”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t mean the government,” Rich said.

“Yeah, exactly,” Grant said. “By politics, I mean we take care of people who are like us, who want freedom, who don’t want to get through this only to go back to the shit that got us here in the first place. You know?”

Rich nodded again.

“We don’t march around with a Don’t Tread on Me flag, or give long speeches about the Constitution,” Grant said. “We take care of people. We help them eat. We fix their boats. We give them medical care. We give them hope. We’re practical. But the practical way to solve our problems is that we live in freedom. Freedom works. We have limited government out here, a voluntary government that is made up of ourselves.”

Grant let that sink in and continued. “I guess I’m saying that we have a little republic out here. It’s the best and most practical way to take care of things and allow us to survive. People need to buy into the program. Know what I’m sayin’?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rich agreed, “I see what you’re sayin’.” He thought some more. “I never really thought about a mini republic out here, but I never had a reason to think about it. There had always been a government, so there was never an opportunity to have our own system. You know, we’ve already been doing what you’re talking about. I mean, look at the guards. No one deputized them. No one charged taxes to pay them. No one wrote up tons of laws—no offense to a lawyer—and made us go through hoops to protect ourselves. We did it on our own because it made sense.”

“Exactly!” Grant replied. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I think we keep doing things like that on our own. We don’t call it a republic, but we think of it that way. Citizens need to contribute to the republic, whether it’s guard duty or helping their neighbors or picking apples in the fall. It’s hunting and sharing the meat. It’s making food at the Grange for guards. No one is telling anyone what to do, they’re just doing it. And then—presto—we’re a Patriot stronghold. Know why? We’re a Patriot stronghold because we don’t need the government. That’s why.” Grant poured another shot into both of their glasses.

Rich looked at the whiskey and asked, “But if we’re a Patriot stronghold, won’t that be a threat to the government? Won’t they want to come here and put us down? That ain’t a good survival move, to pick a fight with the United States government.”

“True,” Grant said, pointing his finger in the air to show he acknowledged that. “But there isn’t a United States government, anymore. Maybe on paper. Maybe in Olympia,” Grant waved his arms around, “But not out here. You see any government? We’re it.”

Rich thought for a while. Grant was right. They were the closest thing to government out there. “Besides,” Rich finally said, “I don’t think we have a choice. It’s not like we can pledge our loyalty to the government and they’ll take care of us. They can’t even take care of themselves. We’re on our own.”

Grant nodded.

Rich said, “So, OK, we’re Patriots out here. I get that. But what do we do with Loyalists? Kill them? I ain’t shootin’ my neighbors, especially over politics.” Rich had a good point.

“No,” Grant said, “we don’t shoot them for being Loyalists. We are practical. If they don’t work for the community, they don’t get the help of the community. I know that sounds socialist, but our republic out here is voluntary, so it’s not socialist, because socialists rule by force. It’s voluntary here. If you choose to be a Loyalist and look to the old government and not Pierce Point for police protection and food, be our guest. See how far that gets you. If you love the old government, then you can’t receive our help and we won’t expect anything from you. Loyalists are on their own,” Grant said and then smiled, “See how long you last.”

He paused and said, “That’s how we do it. Loyalists—true Loyalists—will leave here. Soft Loyalists will get hungry and get with the program. Whether or not they really share our view of the Constitution, they will either get with the program or they won’t be a problem for us. They can hate us and still be a part of the mini republic. There’s no need to shoot them.”

That was what Rich needed to know. Was this Grant guy—who was some sort of Patriot activist before the Collapse—trying to turn Pierce Point into a politically pure dictatorship that did not tolerate dissent? With Grant as the dictator? Rich knew that if anyone, even a guy like Grant whom he liked, tried to do that then Rich would have to fight them. And that he had the firepower to win. He suspected Grant would feel the same way if Rich tried to create a dictatorship. Rich’s guards and Grant’s Team were a natural check and balance on each other, and all the well-armed residents were a check on both. It was a perfect little republic.

Rich was feeling warm and good right now. So was Grant. Perhaps it was the whiskey, or perhaps it was because they just realized what a great system they could help create at Pierce Point.

Grant wanted to reassure Rich that people wouldn’t be targeted merely because of their politics. “Rich, if a Loyalist does anything criminal, like steal from someone or hurt someone, then we deal with them like we would anyone else. Jail for stealing and for threatening people. If they hurt someone, especially murder or rape, well…” Grant made the motion for slitting a throat.

“Agreed,” Rich said. “But Loyalists get treated like anyone else, alright?” Rich said with a slight edge to his voice. This was an important thing for him. As well it should be, Grant thought.

“Agreed,” said Grant. They shook hands.

Chapter 109

Crime and Punishment

(May 10)

“OK,” Rich said to Grant, picking up their Pendleton whiskey-influenced discussion, “you talked about jail and the death penalty for crimes. How would we do that?” Rich had been meaning to get a plan together for a jail and—this sounded so weird—a court system out there. Was he being premature? Or would this be necessary before they knew it?

Grant thought. “Well, first we have simple laws. Stealing is jail time that goes up with how serious the theft is. Same for assault. Rape is the death penalty and, of course, so is murder. That way, people know the general price they will pay. When it comes to the specifics, like how much jail time, we let a jury of our neighbors decide the exact amount of jail time. And restitution: if you steal, you have to pay back the person three times as much. I think that’s in the Bible or something. Not that I want to turn this into a religious theocracy, but that three-times thing makes a lot of sense. Practical sense. It means crime won’t pay.”

Rich was glad to hear that Grant wasn’t one of the religious people who wanted to do everything by the Bible. Rich was a Christian and thought the Bible was a great guide for life, but not an instruction book dictating everything for every detail of running a society.

Rich asked, “I know how to run a jail, but where do we put it?” They talked for a few minutes and decided that having it at the Grange wouldn’t work because that was already shaping up to be a central location for the community. In addition, Rich planned on keeping extra guns there in a makeshift armory, which made having prisoners right next to the armory a bad idea. Rich suggested an abandoned house a few hundred yards from the Grange. They could get a couple of the less fit guard volunteers to be the jail guards and use the older and overweight volunteers for jail guard duty.

“How do we feed them?” Grant asked. “I mean, I know we need to feed them, but I don’t want scarce food to go to prisoners. Explain that one to hungry residents. People will decide to steal and then get free meals.”

“Well, that’s a problem,” Rich said. “We have to feed them something. Maybe we’ll have them work for their meals. If they’re too dangerous or it becomes too hard to guard them, they just stay in the jail. Maybe we feed them the food no one else wants. Hey, maybe we have them test food that’s beyond expiration dates. Sounds cruel to use prisoners for human experiments, but hey…”

“Sounds good to me,” Grant said.

“OK, we have a plan for the jail,” Rich said. “What about the death penalty?”

“I hope we don’t have to find out,” Grant said, “but odds are that we will.” Grant had actually thought about this quite a bit, but didn’t want to appear morbid to Rich. “I read a great survival novel called
One Second After
. In it, they had a court system kinda like we’re talking about. They had a judge, but he didn’t execute people. The idea was that the guy imposing the sentence shouldn’t be affected by the fact that he has to do the deed—whether he likes it too much or hates it. So, they drew lots from volunteers and the volunteer shot the convicted person. Although, I think hanging would be a better way. It’s more civilized.”

“OK, we hang them,” Rich said. “We have a judge. I guess that’s you, since you’re the only lawyer we have out here.”

Grant knew that he would be the judge. He didn’t want to do it—he didn’t want to mistakenly punish an innocent person—but he had special skills and training and could perform a job no one else out there could. “Yep, I’m the judge unless anyone else wants to do it,” Grant said. “I’ll be elected, I guess.”

Grant thought a little more and said, “The guiding principle, besides fairness, is the Constitution. We honor the Fourth Amendment prohibition on unreasonable searches. We respect people’s property. We even honor the Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination, as much of a pain in the ass as that is. People have the right to confront their accuser.”

Grant started going through the Bill of Rights by memory. “OK,” he continued, “no cruel and unusual punishment, either, which is, I seem to recall, the Eighth Amendment. Jail time and hanging is not cruel and unusual punishment for a serious crime. Having hungry people test expiration dates on food isn’t cruel in my book—they should be glad to get any food at all if they’ve stolen or hurt someone. Let’s see. Oh, people have a Seventh Amendment right to a jury trial. That’s a big one.”

“A jury shouldn’t be too hard to come by,” Rich said. “We call on adults who are not directly connected with the defendant. We give them lunch. That’ll draw them in.”

“Yep,” Grant said. “As the judge, I would make sure the jury is a fair one. No one can be on the jury who is related to the defendant or has a beef with them. I’ll need local people who know everyone to help me with that since I don’t know all the connections people have out here.”

Grant thought for a moment and then said, “Hey, I know how we can draw random people for jury duty. The lot numbers. Draw them from a hat so people can see this is fair.”

Rich liked that. “Yeah, fair is the key to this. People have to see everything we’re doing. The process has to be open for public view. People are so disgusted by the way the old government did things with favors for people and groups that we need to be extra transparent and fair.”

Exactly, Grant thought. Man, he and Rich were like two peas in a pod.

“We’ll have simple rules of evidence,” Grant said. “No hearsay testimony, but other than that, we have simple, common-sense trials so we find out what happened and people can understand what we’re doing and why.” This is how Grant thought the justice system should be. It was how it used to be before a billion lawyers and bureaucrats created a zillion laws that no one could possibly understand.

Grant said, “We have a chance to start over with a new justice system. A tiny little justice system here at Pierce Point. It will be opposite of all the corrupt shit I saw in the old government’s system. We will build the new system our way, the fair way, guided directly by the Constitution. People will see that Patriots have a better system and will gravitate toward it.”

“Exactly,” Rich said, feeling the Pendleton in him. “We’re decent to people, we solve problems, we’re Patriots—pretty soon, everyone will want to be a Patriot,” he said with a big grin. He and Grant were on the same page. Thank God.

Grant was thinking about the other parts of governing other than the justice system. They had the medical down: Lisa, the nurses, and EMT would provide free services. Donations were encouraged, but they wouldn’t turn anyone away.

“What about taxes?” Grant asked.

“Taxes?” Rich asked. “Are you crazy?”

“No, not taxes like the government has been doing,” Grant said. “‘Taxes’ was a poor choice of words. I mean, how do people contribute for what they’re getting, like the security? How do we keep the things we are doing for people going?” He made a mental note to never use the word “taxes” again.

“I dunno,” said Rich. “No one has any money; we couldn’t spend it on anything, anyway, and I ain’t asking anyone for their money.”

“No,” Grant said, “I mean people should give things to the effort. Whatever they can spare. Nothing formal, but I’d like a way to prevent slackers from just leaching off of the rest of us. You know—all the leaching that got us in the situation we’re in.” Grant decided against it, but wanted to say, “Don’t kid yourself. We’re in a rural semi-self-reliant area, but there are plenty of welfare shitbags out here, too. Like everywhere in America.”

Both Rich and Grant were quiet for a minute, thinking. Nothing was coming to mind.

Rich spoke. “Maybe we keep it pretty informal. We just mentally keep track of who is contributing. Maybe we worry about it if we don’t have enough to feed the guards.”

Mentally keeping track of things wasn’t good enough. Grant said, “We could keep a formal record of what people are contributing and give them public acknowledgment for it. Encourage good behavior. My father-in-law, Drew, is a former accountant. He’s inventorying things for us on Over Road. He could keep track of things people donate.”

Rich said, “Hey, my wife is a bookkeeper. She and Drew could keep track of who’s contributing and what they’re providing. I like the idea of rewarding good behavior.”