Holding Their Own IV: The Ascent (17 page)

The young officer
approached the growing throng of Meraton residents, two armed enlisted men at his side. “We’re looking for a couple who go by the names of Bishop and Terri,” he announced. “I’ve got a warrant for their arrest.”

Pete glanced at Betty, a look of concern on his face.

Being an ex-cop, Pete couldn’t help himself and said, “My name’s Pete, and I’m the mayor and law enforcement in this town. Could I see this warrant, young man?”

Annoyed, the officer reached into his pocket and produced several sheets of official looking papers. Pete began reading, the military men looking impatient and slightly concerned about the
ever-increasing number of onlookers surrounding them.

Pete whistled and
scanned the crowd, a huge smile on his face. “Hey everybody, this piece of paper says here that Bishop and Terri are wanted for two counts of assaulting a federal officer, material damage to facilities at Fort Bliss, and theft of a military vehicle. Sounds like our Bishop, doesn’t it?”

The air was filled with several chuckles and gaffes, one man raising his voice and asking, “Who
se ass did Terri kick?” The question was almost immediately followed by someone else commenting, “I don’t know who it was, but they’re damned lucky she didn’t shoot ’em.” The crowd erupted in loud laughter.

The army officer found no humor in the situation and became unfriendly. “This is a federal law enforcement matter. Has anyone seen these two suspects?”

Pete folded the papers, and handed them back to the military policeman. “Son, Bishop and Terri haven’t been here in a long time. Even if they were here right now, you won’t find anyone in this town who would help you arrest them.”

The officer looked at one of his men and then back at Pete
. “Harboring a criminal is a serious offense, sir.”

Pete grinned and shook his head. “There is no federal government here, young man. We’ve been on our own for so long I don’t think anyone recognizes your authority. That piece of paper you just showed me might be valuable as toilet paper, but other than that, it means nothing here.”

The officer noticed several heads nodding in agreement with Pete’s statement. Betty stepped forward and pointed her finger at the soldiers. “You all come dropping in here and stirring up a ton of dust like you’re God or something. Where were you when we needed medicine, or when bank robbers almost took over the town, or when we needed food?”

“This is still the sovereign territory of the Un
ited States of America. The US Army has authority under declared martial law to enforce rule over this land.”

Another man stepped forward and spit on the ground. His voice was ster
n. “There ain’t no USA anymore, sonny. There ain’t no taxes, no elections, and no government. The only thing that holds us together is the people you see around you. I, for one, like it better now that Washington isn’t screwing everything up.”

Deciding to ignore the remarks, the officer stood on his toes and addressed the crowd in general. “All of you folks, please listen to me. I have a lawful warrant to arrest these two people. If anyone has any information that would assist in the apprehension of these two fugitives, please step forward.”

One man pushed his way through the throng and stood in front of the officer. “I’ve got some information for you. I’ve seen Bishop in action. The next time you come looking for him, I’d bring a few more men . . . maybe even one of them big tanks of yours.”

Comments like “
That’s no shit,” and “They’ll need more than that if they’re after Terri,” floated above the laughter. The army officer became frustrated and looked at Pete, “We’ll be back. These two individuals will be brought to justice.” The man motioned to his two comrades, turned, and purposefully strode back toward the helicopter.

Betty looked up at Pete and smiled, “Well, at least we know they’re still alive.”

Pete nodded, adding, “It’s always good to hear when a hometown boy does well.”

The crowd began disbursing, random mumblings and murmurs drifting through the air. “They could’ve at least stayed and bought some stuff at the market.”

Bishop sat on the ATV while Terri used the ladies room behind a nearby outcropping. He estimated they were at least 2,000 feet abo
ve Meraton, their roost providing a grand view of the small town. The businesses lining Main Street looked like small specks; the single highway, a dark thread winding its way through the valley. What made the vista even more impressive were the flat, open spaces beyond the town that ended in black, angry looking mountains in the distance. Bishop knew he was probably looking at Santiago Peak, the northernmost point in the Christmas Mountains.

The
peaks’ name reminded him of the quickly approaching holiday, and the need to shop for a gift for Terri.
Just like the typical male
, he thought, w
aiting until the last minute to do your Christmas shopping.

Bishop raised his rifle, the
4-x optic doing little to enhance the details of Meraton. Movement did, however, catch his eye, and he watched, fascinated as a helicopter lifted into the sky and began flying northwest. After a few minutes, he could make out enough detail to realize it was a military bird, and then it dawned on him what the purpose of the Army’s visit might have been.

Terri’s voice sounded behind him, “What are you looking at, Bishop?”

“I think I might have underestimated how pissed Agent Powell is. I think they’ve sent people to Meraton to hunt us down.”

Bishop pointed to the flying helo, now fading into a tiny
dot in the western sky. “That copter just took off from Meraton, and I’m sure they weren’t there to enjoy The Manor’s gardens.”

“Do you think they left people behind to wait on us?”

“No way to tell, but we should sneak into town. Betty will tell us if we’re stepping into a trap.”

A few minutes later, Bishop was negotiating the ATV through the foothills of the Glass Mountains, snaking between sheer cliffs and impassable stone formations.

They decided to hide their transportation on the outskirts of town, leaving the ATV behind Betty’s old bed and breakfast. It was a half-mile walk to Main Street where they found the market in full swing.

Sneaking in the back gate of
The Manor’s gardens, Bishop stored their gear while Terri went to look for Betty. A short time later, Terri returned with Pete, who immediately grasped Bishop’s hand in a robust handshake while proclaiming he was happy the couple had made it back in one piece.

“I hear you’ve been a busy young man, Bishop.” Pete began. “I hear half of the US Army is out looking for you and this pretty lady. You are officially on the
Most Wanted List.”

Bishop looked around the town, “Pete, I don’t want to bring any more trouble to Meraton. I think we should probably load up the truck and get out before bad things happen.”

Pete waved him off. “Trouble? Bishop, you and Terri are now officially heroes to most of the townsfolk. It’s not every day we have bona fide outlaws roll into town . . . our very own Bonnie and Clyde.”

Terri shook her head, “Very funny, Pete. But seriously, we don’t want to be a bother.”

Pete smiled, “You two stay as long as you want. Just be prepared to be treated like rock stars if you wander out into the market.”

Bishop looked at Terri,
thinking of Christmas. “There are some things I need. Want to go shopping for a bit before everything closes down?”

Terri pretended to be insulted, “Since you’ve known me, when have I ever turned down a shopping trip, mister
?”

Pete started to turn, but remembered something else. “Oh, and by the way, the market is accepting US currency now. I just thought I’d warn you.”

Bishop started to ask Pete what that was all about, but he had already turned and walked away. Terri was concerned. “Bishop, do we have any money-money?”

Digging in his pack, Bishop produced the truck keys. “I think my wallet is in the truck. I know there’s some spare change in the console.”

Terri clapped her hands in mock joy. “Oh, boy! I get to raid your wallet again! It’s like civilization has returned while we were gone.”

Two hours later, the happy shoppers returned with a few bundles and sacks of goods. After saying their farewells to their friends, the couple started Bishop’s pickup, and drove west toward the ranch.

Bishop’s Ranch

December 24, 2015

Bishop waited until Terri announced she was taking her usual mid-afternoon nap, and then made a beeline for the
Bat Cave. It took him a few moments inside to gather his gear, and then his head showed around the corner, peeking out the entrance, making sure the coast was clear. After verifying that Terri was nowhere to be seen, he exited, carrying his loot. He taped a note to the camper door that read, “I need to check the tripwires. Be back soon.”

Slinking off like a thief, Bishop hastily beat a noiseless path toward the front of the canyon, a bag and length of rope on his shoulder.

Returning just before dusk, he quickly hid his tools and then checked on Terri, who was just waking up. Hiding the note in his pocket, he bent at the waist, kissed his wife and smiled.

“Do you know what today is?”

Terri blinked twice, clearly trying to figure it out. “No, should I?”

Bishop smiled, obviously pleased with himself—almost gloating. For once, he had been the one to remember a special day. Normally, it was Terri who reminded
him
of birthdays, holidays, and other special occasions. Not today.

Brushing back Terri’s hair, he
declared, “Well, I’ll tell you later. Right now, I need a favor. I want you to stay in the camper for another 30 minutes or so. I’ll come get you when I’m ready. Deal?”

Terri’s expression
betrayed her curiosity, wondering what Bishop was scheming. She smiled and agreed. “I’ve got to get washed up anyway. I’ll sew that tear in your pants while I’m waiting.”

“No peeking now,” Bishop said, wagging a finger at his wife.

After giving Terri a peck on the cheek, Bishop hurried to a boulder up the canyon from the camper and began carrying armloads of firewood toward the spring. He retrieved a five-gallon metal bucket from the Bat Cave and began to heat water on the fire.

Terri rolled her eyes as Bishop left the camper, almost laughing out loud at his lovable, child-like demeanor. She knew very well it was Christmas Eve, but didn’t have the heart to let him know she was in on the secret.
Besides
, she thought,
it will make my surprise for him even more special
.

She had mended his pants days ago, but kept them hidden. Her current project, hiding in plain sight in the sewing basket, was his main present. She had picked up a few other goodies at the market as well.

The last light of day was fading quickly when Bishop finished his chore and returned to the camper. Scanning the area one last time, he nodded and smiled. It was perfect. He approached their abode and yelled out, “Terri, can you come help me for a second? It won’t take long.”

Bishop heard muffled footfalls inside the camper. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Terri's head popped out. “Can it wait just a second, babe, I’m …” Terri froze mid-sentence, her open mouth slowly turning into one of the biggest smiles Bishop had ever seen. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed around the canyon. “Oh my goodness, Bishop! It’s beautiful!”

“Merry Christmas, Terri. Do you really like it?”

Terri didn’t answer at first. She stepped down from the camper, one hand covering her heart. All around the canyon walls, luminaries generated a glow of soft light that warmed the red rock. Bishop had set out dozens of individual candles in nooks and crannies all over the rock formations. The flickering lights cast the stone formations in a gentle radiance that produced a magic atmosphere around their home.

Terri was simply stunned. “How did . . . when did . . . Oh, Bishop. I’ve never seen anything so wonderful.”

Bishop smiled, “
Welcome to Enchanted Canyon Spa, Madame. The lights should set the mood for your bath. Special water has been drawn for you.”

Terri’s head pivoted toward the hot tub. What she saw there brought both of her hands to her cheeks, her mouth opening in surprise. All around the pool of water, dozens of candles projected their light onto the canyon wall above. Floating on the surface were several more, gently drifting on small disks made of reflective paper.

The lights, combined with the reflection from the water’s surface, turned the smooth granite face above the pool into a mural of multi-colored, gently shifting patterns of illumination. “It’s the closest I could get to a big screen TV,” whispered Bishop.

Terri embraced Bishop but never took her eyes from the display. “It’s almost hypnoti
c,” she said in an amazed tone. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Bishop kissed his wife on the top of her head
. “You should hurry with your bath, ma’am—before the water gets cold. I’ve got one more surprise.”

The couple
strolled to the small pool, Terri’s gaze moving between the surface and the light show above. When they were standing on the edge of the tub, Bishop said, “Stick your toe in and make sure it’s not too hot.”

Looking up at Bishop with a questioning expression, Terri kicked off her sandal and dipped her toe into the heated water. After a
moment, she began smiling again. “It’s perfect!”

“Good. Now here’s your final Christmas present. Bishop bent over and retrieved a small bottle, pouring the thick liquid into the pool. After the container was empty, he began stirring the water gently so as not to capsize the candles.

Terri stared in amazement as bubbles began appearing on the surface, and the gentle fragrance of flowers and mint filled the air. Her expression was completely child-like now. “Where did you get bubble bath?”

“I’ll tell you later. Now hurry up and get in before the water gets cold.”

In less than three minutes, two piles of clothing rested on the rocks beside the spring.

On Christmas morning
, Terri snuck out of bed early, determined to deliver her own version of post-collapse holiday cheer. Quietly pulling shut the thin folding door that separated their sleeping quarters from the main area of the camper, she checked one last time that Bishop was still asleep.

All of the couple’s cooking was performed outside since the LP gas had r
un out a few months before. Bishop maintained a large pile of wood by the entrance to the Bat Cave, and Terri had become an expert in preparing meals over an open flame.

She had put in a special order with the butcher at the Meraton market some weeks before
, and yesterday the man had delivered. Unwrapping the plain brown paper, Terri’s nose detected the unmistakable aroma of bacon. Not just any bacon, but peppered, thick-sliced slabs of mesquite smoked, salt cured wonderment. It had cost her 20 rounds of Bishop’s ammo, five pounds of venison and half a bottle of Pete’s best.

The iron skillet was crackling with the meat, four brown eggs ready to fry after the bacon was crisp. Bishop would be ecstatic, as the man simply loved bacon.

While she waited on the food to cook, Terri realized how simple it had all become.
Here I am, barefoot, pregnant, and cooking outside over an open fire. Six months ago, the same characterization would have raised my dander.
The expectant elf was as excited about giving this gift as any in memory. A humble meal, something that would have cost less than $10 only months before, was now as important as any set of golf clubs or hunk of gold jewelry. She believed with all her heart that Bishop would appreciate it more than any of those vastly more expensive items.

Watching the bacon closely so as not to let her super-expensive investment go up in smoke, Terri gently turned each slice like it was a rare antique, worthy of extra-gentle handling. When the meat was perfectly done, she dried the grease on a clean towel and arranged the strips on a plate in neat lines.
I had better taste just one piece
, she kidded herself,
just to make sure it’s okay to serve to Bishop.
 

While she chewed the small slice of pure heaven, four large eggs joined the bacon grease that coated the skillet. Terri’s mind drifted back to previous holidays
, and she began to wonder why things had become so shallow and artificial. She remembered a time when money was tight and they had set their gift budget at a mere $100. Both of them had been upset over the small sum—Bishop had cursed the economy and inflation, and Terri had worried that their Christmas would be ruined because of the cash crunch.

“How stupid we all were,” she mumbled
aloud as she flipped the eggs. “We were senseless to feel that way and idiots to let the world transition to that point.”

Terri suddenly realized this was her first Christmas without her mother, and the thought put a momentary damper on her spirit. She remembered how her mother would complain about the crowds at the malls and how outrageous prices were. Terri could still hear her mother’s words
. “This entire Christmas thing has gotten completely out of control. When I was a small girl, we were happy to get a single orange for a gift. Homemade dolls, secondhand clothing, and cards created with coloring crayons were the norm for our celebrations. We got along just fine. Who needs all of these expensive gifts and artificial crap?”

Terri had politely nodded at the time, secretly hoping she would never become an old fuddy-duddy like her mom. With
her eyes watering at the memory, Terri gazed to the heavens and whispered, “You were so wise, mom. I love you. I miss you. Merry Christmas.”

The eggs were perfect
, and Terri refocused her attention on the preparations. Drying the grease from the eggs, she slid two of them onto Bishop’s plate and the others on her own. Making sure the fire was burning down and under control, Terri almost skipped, heading back to the camper, eager for Bishop to see what she had made.

“Bishop, guess what
? Santa’s been here to see you. I guess you weren’t on the naughty list after all,” she announced while carrying the plates back to the bedroom. Bishop rolled over and opened one eye. He took a single pre-yawn breath, and sat straight up in bed. “Bacon? Where on earth did you get bacon?”

Terri sat the pla
te down in front of her husband and then stood back to watch his reaction. She wasn’t disappointed. Bishop picked up a single slice and looked at it like a jeweler would peer at a perfect diamond. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the aroma. “Terri, my love . . . I don’t know what to say.”

Terri smiled, “Well,
why don’t you try eating a piece before you tell me this is your best Christmas ever?”

Bishop agreed
and bit off a large portion of the slice. He chewed slowly, savoring every sensation of his taste buds, and actually moaning once. “I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life,” was his eventual assessment.

After
they had finished the meal, Terri produced a small package. “I made this myself, Bishop. I hope it’s the right size.”

Wasting no time, Bishop ripped open the parcel and pulled out a rifle sling made of Paracord. “Oh, Terri! It’s perfect. You know I always like having lots of cord around. This will be a real space saver.”

“I tried to model it after your favorite one. There’s a full 100 feet of cord in it. It’s all one piece.”

“Honey, this . . .
this is just the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“Really, Bishop? It just seems like so little compared to what we used to buy each other.”

Bishop thought about his wife’s statement and nodded. “I was worrying about that when I was setting up the candles. I was scared you wouldn’t have a good Christmas. But you know, I enjoyed doing that as much as anything I ever bought you at a store . . . maybe more so.”

Terri agreed. “I understand that feeling. While I was weaving th
e cord, I kept thinking about how you would always have something from me with you, no matter where you were.”

Bishop pulled his wife close in a warm embrace. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had, Terri. Thank you for making it so special.”

Terri squeezed her mate tightly. “Me too, Bishop. This is truly a special day.”

“Hey, I just had an idea of
how we can make it even better. How about we drive up to Alpha? We’ll splurge on the gas just to celebrate. I bet Deacon Brown’s church is having some sort of service today, and it’ll be good to see Nick and Kevin.”