Glimmer of Hope (Land of Tomorrow Book 1) (10 page)

Chapter 12 – Death and Freedom

Harold Buchannan pushed the plunger of the syringe and watched the look in the man’s eyes slowly change from panic to calm. He stopped struggling against the table restraints as the lethal dose of morphine entered his bloodstream and moved towards his heart. Doctor Bobby Wilson stood pensively across the room watching in clear distaste. Harold didn’t much care for it himself, but it was better than the alternative.

My initial plan was a good one,
he thought,
but I probably should have foreseen the problems
.

The firing squads went smoothly at first. His men were marksmen and professionals. Moreover, the inmates on death row had long ago accepted the fact that execution was their due and their resistance had been minimal. Most of these approached their death with resignation and some even said dignity. The shots were clean and death was quick.

Problems arose when they began with those serving life sentences and the men who guilty of committing murder since N-Day. These seemed to have some sort of fantasy about walking away from their situation. They were most vocal in their innocence and in attacking the legitimacy of their executions, demanding to see lawyers and to speak to the governor. Many broke down and begged loudly for their lives.

Harold discovered that his trained and hardened marksmen couldn’t fire a true shot when the target was a man looking at them and begging not to die. They tried having the prisoners hooded, but it didn’t help much and Harold just couldn’t bring himself to gag the men. These prisoners were consistently either only wounded or all four firers impossibly missed from only twenty feet.

The breaking point came when Harold gave the command to fire and nothing happened. He repeated the order more forcefully and someone started to speak. Harold knew what was coming next, there would be appeals to reason, and mercy, and more discussion. All of it would be aimed towards relieving the executioners of their duty and their guilt. Harold felt the guilt of what they were doing too, but knew the job had to be done.

As the firers looked at him while lowering their weapons sheepishly, Harold drew his pistol and walked purposefully up to the prisoner tied to a post. The man must have sensed what was happening because from beneath his hood he began screaming, “Oh, God please no! No, no, NO!”

His words were cut off as Harold shot the man in the side of the head from a foot away. He dropped the pistol to his side so the others could not see his hand shaking. Knowing he could not trust himself to maintain his composure, Harold looked at everyone and walked with outward calm to his office where he shut the door. Once there he pulled a bottle of scotch from the cabinet and with difficulty poured a small amount into a glass instead of drinking directly from the bottle as he wanted to. The liquid burned as it went down his throat and seemed to steady his nerves some.

Harold craved another drink, but was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop and if he lost control of himself now, everything could break down. He put the bottle away and went into the bathroom down the hall to splash water on his face and noticed the small specks of blood spattered on his face, hands, and clothes. After washing up and changing clothes, Harold went to find Doctor Bobby Wilson.

“Sure, enough morphine can kill a person, easier way to go too. I thought you would want to save it for possible injuries or even surgeries.”

“I do,” Harold sighed, “but I don’t think we can go on with the firing squads. We’ve got at least a dozen more and the guards are already at their breaking point.”

“Well,” said Wilson, “we probably have enough morphine to do the job, but you have to know up front that as a medical professional, I will not participate. I’ll tell you how to do it, and must out of duty advise against all this business, but I won’t stand in your way.”

“Thanks,” said Harold, not sure if he meant it or not.

“Should be easy to do,” continued the Doc. “All the tables have straps and restraints. Just have the guards bring them in here and secure them. You then take 120 milligrams of morphine, maybe 150 to be sure, and inject it into a vein in the arm. They’ll go right to sleep…and die.”

Since that time Harold had injected fourteen prisoners with the morphine. The guards seemed simultaneously ashamed and relieved by the change in executions. Although it was certainly easier on the executed, and the guards who didn’t have to kill them, it was a terrible ordeal for Harold. Watching the light go out in each man’s eyes seemed to slowly tear at the foundation of his being.
Bobby had made it sound so nice and peaceful,
he thought
, like floating away on billowing clouds.

Harold was pondering these thoughts beside the now dead man as Jim Meek’s stuck his head in the infirmary. “Got a minute, boss?”

He nodded and Jim moved in passing him a folder.

Opening the folder Harold saw it was the inmate file for Jacob Daniels. He knew it well. Overall, Daniels was a model prisoner, exhibited good behavior, and done what he was told. Despite this history, he made several guards feel nervous and most were convinced something wasn’t quite right in the head with Daniels, although the psychologists pronounced him sane after several referrals. His crimes were repeatedly breaking and entering people’s homes where he simply stood over the sleeping residents until they woke and called the police. On the last occasion, he even sustained serious injuries from a baseball bat when the house’s owner woke to find Daniels standing over his ten year old son in the middle of the night.

“So?” asked Harold.

“The board has decided to release Jacob Daniels,” said Jim with dismay.

“I take it you don’t agree,” said Harold.

Jim moved forward and sat down in a chair leaning in to Harold in a conspiratorial manner. “Something is seriously wrong with this guy. I’ve seen a lot of cons in my time and this one is bad news, we can’t let him out.”

“You’re saying we should put him down?” asked Harold while pointing a thumb at the cooling body beside them.

Jim just looked at Harold grimly.

“For a repeated B and E offender? Are you serious?”

“Boss,” said Jim, “you’re the final authority and can overrule the board. This guy is bad. You don't have to do it, just give me a nod and he'll have a tragic accident or something.”

Harold was sorely tempted to give in to Jim, but it just didn't feel right. Besides, even if his friend took care of the execution or subsequent accident, it would still be on his head ultimately. The board had made a decision, he needed to support them or their decisions were worthless. Harold made up his mind handing the folder back to Jim.

“I’m going to go with the board on this one. They have reviewed the case and I'd like to think people can change, Jim.”

Jim stood and his huge form shadowed down on Harold solemnly for a moment. “I hear you boss, but you’re making a big mistake with this one.”

He turned and walked out the door giving a long look to the dead body at Harold’s side.

Chapter 13 – Moving Forward

Despite his family’s anguish and turmoil, Nathan kept moving forward. It was the only thing he knew to do. Things were not right with his family, and he didn't know how to fix them; he just held them together with his will to survive another day. The only difference now was that his family was larger.

They’d stayed a couple of days to rest and get everyone’s strength up, then began moving again. The first day on the road Nathan sent David up on point and dropped back through the gaggle to walk with his wife, who’d been talking to the women.

“What happened to them?” he asked.

She looked sideways at him. “What do you think? Those bandits murdered their men and enslaved them. If we hadn’t come along and killed most of those bastards, they’d never have gotten out.”

“But they weren’t even chained up when we found them.”

She shrugged. “One of the scumbags – maybe the only one with a soul – threw them the keys as he ran away. But they were so scared they just stayed there next to the food. Some of them were afraid they would come back. It’s classic abuse syndrome. They were terrorized.”

He nodded. “I’ll try to explain to the boys…tell them to treat them with kid gloves for a while.”

“No!” She softened her tone. “No, Nathan, if you do that they’ll just feel like broken toys. Just try to treat them like human beings. That’s all any of us are.”

He took her advice, and over the next days and weeks they really became a family, or at least a clan. Several of the women proved they could handle guns, so now they were armed too.

Bethany and David even made a sort of peace, although they were still cautious around each other, not quite knowing how to get past what was done and said.

Nathan was thinking of these things as he walked in front of his new larger ‘family’. He wasn’t sure what alerted him to the fact that something was wrong, but he suddenly froze and raised his hand. He felt the group behind him stop begin to look around them carefully. He turned and signaled everyone to move into the ditch to one side of the road. Nathan motioned David up and then went forward himself, carefully hugging one edge of the cracked blacktop.

After walking slowly for about a hundred yards, Nathan spied a large dark square compound with a tall fence around it through the dense trees. The road they were traveling passed to the left of the structure. Nathan didn’t see anyone, but felt like he was being watched. He pulled his binoculars from his bag and quickly scanned the walls and guard towers. At each corner he saw at least one man with a rifle and one of them with binoculars of his own that suddenly seemed to be looking right at him. Nathan dropped back down into the ditch pulling David with him.

Great
, he thought.
Did they see us?

They crawled back towards the others. Nathan wondered if there would ever be an end to these nerve-racking encounters. Death was always close now.

Chapter 14 – Unwanted Authority

Reggie Philips was having the time of his life. He and his wife Janice were practically flying down the highway in their new horse-drawn buggy. It was a beautiful clear day and the cool wind in their faces was refreshing rather than uncomfortable.

The horse and buggy were a gift from the Jackson Purchase, which ordered twenty sets from the large Mennonite community in Graves County. The Mennonites were the only people around whose life did not seem to have changed in the least since N-Day…with the exception of getting more business. They conducted a steady trade in horses, blacksmithing, animal slaughtering, and various other tasks which they looked upon as normal while the rest of the world only saw such things in old movies or documentaries, if at all.

The buggy ride took longer than a car would have, but fuel was scarcer than ever. Reggie and Janice made the trip from Murray to Paducah for the regular JP County Cooperation Council in three leisurely days. Reggie grew up around horses, but had almost forgotten how temperamental they could be and Clipper presented quite a frisky personality. He thought a lot of people would have to learn about horses because they were here to stay. Besides horses, bikes now seemed to be the most practical means of transportation.

They were nearing the huge United States Enrichment Corporation, or USECO for short, which would be the new meeting site and presumably the impromptu governmental center for the JP as a whole. USECO began as a gaseous diffusion plant after World War II. The plant processed weapon grade uranium. The facilities were vast, solid, and most importantly made to withstand a direct nuclear strike.

During the Cold War, the U.S. Government knew that USECO was high on the list of Soviet nuclear targets, but for whatever reason, it was not struck during the N-Day attacks. The engineers who ran the plant followed protocol and responsibly placed all radioactive materials in huge specially built lead vaults several stories beneath the ground, and then thoroughly secured those vaults. Since then, the staff kept the facility in as good working order as possible. The Committee was now taking advantage of the site’s unique features.

It was set on several hundred wooded acres outside of Paducah and surrounded by layers of fences and ditches. The facility itself was not very impressive from the outside because most of it was underground. Inside, the work and living spaces were vast and sufficiently supplied to keep a large staff alive indefinitely following a nuclear holocaust. The Committee decided the USECO complex was perfect for their use.

The facility was also well stocked with Geiger counters and other radiation detection equipment. Reggie previously ordered these to be handed out to government officials throughout the JP, mainly to calm lingering fears of radiation poisoning. So far the Geiger counters had only picked up trace radiation amounts, mostly from dead fish in rivers flowing downstream from the destroyed cities of St. Louis, Louisville, Pittsburg, Nashville, and Huntsville.

As Reggie and his wife rolled through the front gate, he acknowledged and smiled to the two guards who responded with friendly waves of their own. They rode for several minutes up to the old parking lot near the front gate. There wasn’t a hitching post in sight, so Reggie stopped the buggy near an abandoned car, dismounted, and tied the horse’s reins to the front bumper. He then went around and helped Janice down.

General Clarence Anderson was outside smoking with several other people all of whom came over to greet them. Reggie noticed that the men smoked home-rolled cigarettes that looked rough, but tobacco was still in high demand and would probably continue to be one of the major cash crops for the JP…if they could grow enough food to survive the next winter.

“Afternoon. How was the trip?” Anderson asked, giving Janice a warm hug and then shaking Reggie’s hand.

“Wonderful,” replied Janice, who was still flushed and smiling.

“Good. With your permission I would like to take Reggie from you for awhile. Everyone's been eagerly awaiting his arrival,” he said giving Janice a wink.

Reggie looked at Anderson with sudden concern, but could tell nothing from his expression except possibly suppressed amusement.

“Yes, time for work,” said Janice with a smile. “I’ll be around here somewhere when you’re done.” Reggie gave her a peck on the cheek and then followed Anderson inside.

They walked down wide concrete halls lit with florescent lights. At various points along their path stood open metal vault doors that Reggie doubted he could budge if his life depended upon it.

They entered a large meeting room and noticed that no one was arguing, which was exceptionally odd. He also noticed that not only were the county executives present, but most of the mayors as well. Reggie shook hands and exchanged greetings as he made his way to an empty chair at the head of the table, typically reserved for him.

Reggie took off his coat and opened his shoulder bag, pulling out a binder and notebook. He sat, put on his glasses, and was just beginning to call the meeting to order, when James Harping, the County Executive of Ballard County, stood and cleared his throat loudly.
Here it comes
, thought Reggie.
Whatever is causing everyone to act so weird, this is it.

“Uh, Reggie, we all feel we have a piece of business that must be handled before anything else.” James looked around for support and the others nodded in agreement, something which amazed Reggie since they rarely agreed on much of anything without an immense amount of tedious debate. James continued, “We have decided that this cooperative committee just isn’t going to work in the long run. It was okay when we thought things would go back to normal, but we all know that just ain’t going to happen.”

Reggie grew tenser. He had been dreading the moment when they would make this realization. He was afraid their mutual distrust of each other could tear their fragile cooperative life apart. Reggie tried to speak quickly before James could go on, “Well James, that’s an interesting point, but this is a little sudden and the council serves an important purpose-.”

James continued on, evidently emboldened by the support of his peers. “The JP has done better than most. Hell, we know we’ve got a good thing going, but we need a stronger government than the Cooperative Council.”

“What did you have in mind?” asked Reggie cautiously curious.

“We need an overall leader to direct the Council’s efforts and also to ensure our security. The Council can still handle all the county business and cooperative stuff, but we need someone like a governor or even a president maybe.”

“Now wait a minute,” started Reggie, “we’re not officially anything. The JP is just something we made up.”

“That’s right,” jumped in Brad Williams of McCracken County, “and thank goodness for it. Without the JP, we’d be cold, hungry, and worried about raving crazies killing us and our families. We made the JP up, but it’s a good thing, and we need to make sure it sticks around. If the U.S. Government rolls in here tomorrow, we can throw the whole JP business into the river as fast as you please; but I just don’t think that is going to happen.”

“So…” began Reggie, “what sort of powers would this individual have and how would we select him? I’m presuming some sort of vote?”

James replied with a smile, “Well, as far as powers go, basically everything you’ve been doing on an unofficial basis. We would just make it official.” Here James paused and looked around before continuing, “And we couldn’t think of anyone better to be our new president than you.”

Reggie inwardly groaned. Others around the room affirmed their support. They were obviously very pleased with themselves, and why not? They finally agreed on something. Willingly agreed to submit themselves to authority. Reggie admitted it made sense in a way. They trusted him more than each other.

Reggie raised his hand for everyone to stop talking so he could speak. They eventually did, but kept their wide ridiculous smiles on. “Gentlemen, I’m grateful, honored, and humbled, but I must emphatically refuse. Please accept this as my final answer.”

The room got quiet for a moment and then one of the mayors spoke from the back. “Reggie, we know it’s a shock and all, but you’d really only be doing what you’ve been doing already.”

“That’s not the point,” said Reggie.

“Then what is the point?” asked someone with a little attitude from the back.

“Well, there are several problems, actually,” responded Reggie as he began to organize his thoughts. “First, any official leadership position for any new government should be a democratically elected official, which I am not. Second, this body does not have the authority to simply choose to set up a government and pick a leader. And finally, I’ve already got a job…Lieutenant Governor for the state of Kentucky.”

Many people started to speak at once, but Clarence Anderson stood and the room became still. “Gentlemen, I know it is not my place, but I would like to speak, if you don’t mind.”

Reggie felt relief that someone would establish some sanity to the discussion.

“The Lieutenant Governor is right. He already has a job, which is why he is most qualified to lead us.”

Reggie looked at Anderson quizzically.

Anderson continued, “No one in the JP has been democratically elected by the citizens of the JP to any leadership position, except you, Reggie. I believe you carried a majority of the vote of every county in the JP in the last elections.”

Reggie smiled, “That’s because my ticket was tied to Governor Henry.”

Anderson shrugged, “Nevertheless, they elected you. You must recognize we need a stable, practical, working government to survive. What we are playing with just isn’t going to work in the long term.” Anderson turned and began addressing the whole room. “I’m afraid dangerous times are coming and we better be ready. Everyone has to do their part, even if they do not want to. I’ve come to know Reggie Philips as a good friend and believe no one is better qualified for the position. The fact that he resists the authority only makes me more confident that he is the right man for the job.”

Reggie began to understand with growing horror that this might actually happen and there may be nothing he could do to get out of it.

Anderson turned back to Reggie and with a knowing smile said, “After all, Lieutenant Governor Reginald Philips does not strike me as the sort of man who turns away from what is obviously his duty.”

Reggie hoped that his fierce stare at Anderson conveyed his displeasure. Anderson in return only seemed more amused.

“With that settled,” said Anderson with finality, “I think we can move on to other business.”

*******

The meeting continued on with other mundane issues and tasks, but Reggie was hardly aware. His mind whirled with the implications for what just happened. There were so many unknowns that he felt as if he were falling over a cliff. Suddenly his mind caught hold of the discussion going on about the electrical problem.

They were talking about how their electrical needs were just barely being met, though cutting off areas outside the JP helped somewhat. The last area still receiving power outside the JP was General Sampson’s West Tennessee Republic to the south. They had tentatively reached a deal in principle where the WTR gave them compensation in corn and other hard-to-find items. After months of waiting, the JP still had not actually received anything from the WTR in return for the electricity. This was despite many assurances from Sampson.

“I spoke to General Sampson last month,” said Anderson, “and he just stalled for more time. It may be harder for them hemmed in by so many irradiated areas.”

“But that’s not the issue,” said Leslie Mitchell, the Paducah mayor. “We’ve come to realize, we need the extra electricity more than we need anything they can give us in return. We’re trying to rebuild, and we’re on our way; but we’re being held back by the electricity rationing.”

“What it sounds like to me,” said another, “is that we should use the excuse of them not paying the agreed upon rate as a pretext for cutting them off for good.”

“That could be dangerous,” said Anderson ominously. “That would make them desperate and desperate people can be unpredictable. They also have a larger population, more military resources, and are essentially a dictatorship under Sampson. I don’t think we’re ready to take on the WTR.”

The room erupted in a confusion of voices with several proclaiming that they felt the JP was ready for anything Sampson’s forces could throw against them. Reggie sensed the conversation was getting close to heated topics he’d rather not have discussed yet.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," cried Reggie, "let's table this discussion until our next meeting. This topic is obviously very serious and I believe we could make a more enlightened decision after we've all had time to carefully consider the situation."

They had grudgingly agreed, but Reggie could tell this would be a hot topic at any future meeting. The meeting covered a few more mundane matters and then adjourned.

As they were walking out, Anderson caught up to Reggie. The General’s face was deadly serious. “If we just cut the WTR off, there’s liable to be war between us and we’re not ready for that, I promise you.”

Reggie looked long at Anderson before speaking. “I know. But they’ll not submit to the WTR’s bullying…too proud. We’ll have to figure something out.”