Holding Their Own VII: Phoenix Star (24 page)

Finally, he snapped out of
it and smiled at his visitors. “Let me tell you a story,” he began, his voice neutral, almost monotone. “Three years ago, at the height of the depression, God showed me a vision. He was angry, both over how his children were acting, and how they were being treated. Like Noah, he warned of the impending doom and guided me to prepare. The Lord, showing his benevolence yet again, told me that he didn’t want to destroy the entire earth and initiate the coming of the anti-Christ. He wanted to provide Christians one last chance to right the ship and mend our ways.”

The expression on the pastor’s face was one of bliss… almost pure joy. He continued, “I knew it sounded crazy at the time. I didn’t believe it myself at first. I was an unknown minister at a small church that barely kept the roof from leaking. But then things started to change. Opp
ortunities presented themselves; luck came our way. It was as if I was being guided down a trail – a path being blazed by the Almighty.”

Pearson cleared his throat, and then laughed with a gentle chuckle. “God’s message to me was simple enough – prepare to take back the land. Store food and medicine and arms. Raise an army of Christian soldiers who will fight for the Lord, be it
using arms or with the words of the gospel. My Maker has promised me that people will flock to our cause. He told me that sin had led to the downfall, and that after the people had suffered enough, they would join our ranks by the hundreds… and then the thousands… and then by the millions. I believe my vision is prophecy because so far everything has come to reality.”

Bishop wanted badly to get up and walk… no, run away. But Terri’s hand on his leg stopped him cold. Her voice was calm, “What sins do you believe led to the downfall?”

Pearson’s hand waved through the air, a gesture indicating the entire world. “Gay marriage, legalization of drugs, the propagation and acceptance of fornication in our television and media. Surely you could both see the moral decay of America? The government forcing the Catholic Church to pay for birth control… the list could go on and on. Anyone of faith could see it happening, yet we all chose to remain passive… to turn the other cheek. Now I have God’s permission to forgo Jesus’s teachings to be meek and inherit the earth. Satan surprised our Lord with the erosion of our values, and God has chosen my church as one of his instruments of retribution.”

It took every fiber of Bishop’s being not to stand and
run away from the obviously unstable man sitting across from him. Terri, on the other hand, seemed unthreatened by the spew of craziness flying around the room. With her hand firmly planted and squeezing Bishop’s leg to keep him seated, her next words shocked her husband.

“Okay, let’s just say for a moment I’ll go along with everything you’ve said so far. That still doesn’t explain to me the totalitarian rules you’ve laid down for the community. Why did you choose that path?
They seem harsh and at odds with your true motivations.”

Bishop had no idea where his wife was going, but the preacher seemed to follow
her logic.

“Well, we didn’t
clamp down so tightly at first. I used the wrong words to relay our message, and my flock in Crawford divided over the meaning. Everyone was so desperate. Food was running out, then the water stopped flowing. Panic set in, and I almost lost control. The rules were necessary to reestablish order, and, as you can see around you, it worked.”

Bishop was done with it. Despite Terri
’s tug on his leg, he stood and coldly said, “Well, we’ve got to be going. We wish you the best of luck.”

Pearson seemed to be hurt b
y Bishop’s action, a pained expression filling his face. “You mean you still want to leave? Despite knowing our glorious blessing from the Lord? Why? Why would any decent soul not want to join our cause? We are going to be the heartbeat of a new America… right here in remote New Mexico. We are going to pump the blood of righteousness throughout the land. We are going to be the purveyor of holy oxygen to the new body of Christianity!”

Bishop leaned across the desk, staring the preacher right in the eye. “You are no different tha
n the government that fell. Their God may have been power, or wealth or influence, but it was still wrong, and it failed. True faith in God above isn’t forced on people; it must naturally fill their souls. Give a free man a good message, and he’ll be happy to worship and spread the word. Force a man to your beliefs, and he’ll always be looking for a way out. Slaves don’t fight well, Pastor, nor do they make good salesmen. You don’t have an army here, and you never will. What you have is a bunch of troubled souls who have found themselves chained by the indentured servitude of hunger. You will crash and burn just like every other tin pan dictator.”

Pearson
was shocked by Bishop’s verbal assault, his expression changing from surprise, to disbelief and then outright rage. Terri stood next to her husband, a wide-eyed Hunter resting in his sling. The tension in the room was thick.

Without warning, the preacher shoved his chair back and abruptly stood. Pointing a finger at Bishop, he yelled, “Be gone with you
, Satan! Be gone with your blasphemies!”

Bishop was about to laugh in the man’s face when Terri’s hand appeared from under Hunter’
s sling, a 9mm semi-automatic pistol firmly in her grip. “Oh, we’re leaving alright. And you’re going to guarantee our safe passage… at least as far as the highway. Then we’ll let you return to your flock.”

The pastor’s expression quickly changed as he stared into the unwavering
muzzle of Terri’s iron. The zealot was quickly replaced by a quiet, frightened man. “She
will
shoot you, Padre,” Bishop added to the man’s fear. “Trust me on that one.”

“Come on,” Terri inserted,
glancing at her husband. “Time to find those greener pastures.”

“I need a few minutes
to prep the truck and camper for the trip,” Bishop said to his wife. “Why don’t you two sit right here in the office and have a nice chat about how many men you’ve shot while I go make the pickup ready?”

Terri winked at Bishop, “Sounds like a plan… but don’t be too long. I’ve got to feed Hunter soon
, and I’m afraid lightning will strike if I expose my breast in the pastor’s office.”

Closing the office door behind him, Bishop hurried to the parking lot and began working to ready their rig. Terri’s idea to bring along a hostage was inspired, but he still wanted to be prepared to fight his way out of the valley, just in case the locals got frisky.

He threw on his load-gear, quickly exchanging the magazines used for hunting for those used for fighting. He exhaled when the sling of his most-trusted M4 carbine looped across his shoulders. Next came the camper, the accordion top folded and then secured. He was moving to double-check the trailer hitch when he noticed activity at the camp.

The two men he’d seen before with Dean were there, animated motions and gestures making it evident they were upset. Several other armed men were
hustling to join them, many pointing toward the parking lot. “Shit,” Bishop whispered.

And then they all
began spreading out in a skirmish line - moving toward the camper.

Bishop
scanned for cover. The last thing he wanted was a gunfight, especially when the pickup and their only shelter was in such close proximity. If the truck got shot up, they were really screwed.

He scrambled for a strand of trees that put their transportation out of the direct line of fire, running half bent at the waist and read
ying the carbine as he moved. The trunks could have been a little thicker, but they would have to do. Popping his head around, he yelled, “Hold it right there, fellas. I don’t want any trouble with you men.”

The roughly formed
squad of camp enforcers paused at his challenge, many of them glancing at the guy who evidently was Dean’s second in command. Their new leader simply waved them forward.

Bishop shouldered his weapon, centered the red dot
, and squeezed the trigger. The 5.56 NATO round traveled true to his aim, impacting Mr. Squad-leader’s leg right above the knee. The man went down with a yelp, collapsing onto the ground and rolling in agony.

A few of the camp’s men hit the turf and aimed their weapons. Others, less experienced, just stood in the open with shocked expressions on their faces.

Bishop gave them a moment to gauge his seriousness and then shouted across the open space, “I’m not going to warn you again. Hold your position, or I’ll start aiming to kill. My wife and I are leaving your wonderful camp just as soon as I get our rig ready. We’ll be out of here before you know it, so just stay put and chill. Trust me guys – it beats dying.”

A conversation ensued while
two men hurried to the lieutenant’s aid. While Bishop couldn’t hear the words, the topic of the debate was clear. Some of them wanted to advance while others were questioning the wisdom of continuing the assault. One man decided he’d had enough talking and leveled his rifle toward Bishop’s hide. He fired.

The round
s missed Bishop and the trees, cracking harmlessly through the air toward the mountain. Shaking his head, Bishop centered on the shooter’s position and then reconsidered. “I’m going to give you one more warning,” he whispered.

His
M4 barked three successive shots, small geysers of grass and dirt erupting all around the shooter’s prone body. Waiting for the mountain-echo to die down, Bishop again warned his antagonists. “Seriously now guys, I don’t want to kill anyone today. Back off and stop horsing around, or I’m going to get pissed and start punching holes in your hides.”

Bishop had to hand it to them;
they weren’t completely stupid. Mr. Testosterone-Infusion didn’t fire back, and their advance halted. He’d stopped them! He was just about to congratulate himself on defusing the situation when he noticed all of the attackers were looking over his shoulder. Turning, he saw why.

Terri stood next to the HQ building, Pastor Pearson acting as a shield. Her pistol was pressed firmly against the preacher’s neck. “Tell them to back off
, or I’ll arrange a meeting with you and God,” she hissed.

Nodding
, the preacher yelled to the aggressors, “It’s okay, men. Stand down and return to the camp. I’ll handle things here.”

Again, discussion ensu
ed within the ranks of the elders. Bishop exhaled as they regrouped and then began trekking back toward the camp, their injured comrade being helped by two stout bookends.

“Bishop,” Terri called, “I hope you’re ready. You know they’re already wondering if leaving their beloved leader
to our good graces is a wise move.”

“Almost ready,” he replied calmly, hustling back to finish
the few remaining tasks.

And then he realized the problem. The truck was so full of supplies, there wasn’t anywhere for the good pastor to ride. Boxes of clothing, canned goods, diapers
, and other goodies filled both the cab and the bed. For a moment, Bishop considered tying Pearson to the hood like a freshly harvested deer, but then dismissed the notion.

“This is going to take longer than I thought,” Bishop yelled back to Terri. “There’s no place for him to sit.”

“Shit!” she called back.

“Not in front of the baby
or the pastor, dear,” he teased.

He pulled the survival net from his rig, flattening it out on the parking lot. Next, he began stacking boxes on top of the camper
’s roof, finally covering the supplies with the net. He had just started looping a strand of paracord through the net when Terri’s voice interrupted the tie down. “We’ve got company coming.”

Bishop pulled the M4 around to his chest, thankful for the quick-adjust sling.
A glance confirmed Terri’s report – there were people approaching from the camp.

“Get behind some cover! Hurry!” he shouted, moving to
block Terri from view.

“They don’t have guns,” Terri replied. “As a matter of fact, I recognize one of the men – that’s the father of the bride.”

“What?” Bishop was confused, but did confirm his wife’s observation of no visible firearms among the approaching citizens of Camp Pinion. As a matter of fact, the handful of people walking toward the HQ building were holding their hands above their heads in surrender.

“What the hell?” Bishop commented.

“Bishop! The baby!”

“You there! The
newcomers! We are unarmed. We want to talk,” came a voice. “Please, we just want to talk.”

Bishop let them get close
r, back to using the small strand of trees as cover. When they were within 100 feet, he answered, “Okay, that’s close enough. What do you want?”

“Take us with you, please. We want to leave this place and go back to Crawford, even if it means starving to death. Please help us get out of here.”

Bishop scanned the dozen or so people, his eyes searching for known faces of the security men or hidden firearms. What he saw was a bunch of scared, haggard-looking innocents.

Turning to his wife, Bishop
said, “Now what?”

Terri was tired of holding the pistol, supporting Hunter
, and keeping a sharp eye on her prisoner. “Let’s just shoot this asshole and resolve the whole thing. I’m tired, hungry, and sick of this mess. Let them all fight it out.”