The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6) (2 page)

Gordon approached Hunter, put his cup down and placed his right hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Son, I’ll tell you everything, soon.”

“You keep saying that,” Hunter said.

“Be patient,” Haley said.

“It’s okay. He’s anxious and curious. I like that trait in him. He loves his country and loves his family; those are admirable traits for such a young man.”

“Can I get you something to eat, Dad?” Haley asked.

“Sure, but make it to go,” Gordon said.

“Are you going somewhere?” Haley asked.

“We are,” he replied to her. He turned his attention to Hunter and said, “You asked me what I was proposing. I am proposing we take our government back. I had two motives for getting you to come. Of course I wanted to see you and tell you all I know about our family, but I also believe that when Cascadia is rid of its enemies and restored, a Van Zandt will lead the way.”

“But, Granddad, I’m a Rutledge,” Hunter reminded him.

“My dear boy, the Rutledge name is a good and honorable one, but you look, act and have the Van Zandt blood coursing through your veins.”

“Dad, what are you planning?” Haley asked, a concerned look on her face. For a brief moment she questioned why her contacts in Olympia hadn’t told her of the rumblings but maybe they were instructed not to.

“Like I said, we’re going to go take our country back,” Gordon answered and walked away.

“When can you finish telling me what happened?” Hunter asked.

Gordon stopped, turned and replied, “I’ll tell you the rest on our way to Olympia. Now get dressed and pack your stuff; we leave in an hour.”

Hunter’s jaw dropped.

Haley was in shock. Had he planned this all along?

Gordon exited and disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Sebastian appeared on the stairs and asked, “Did I hear something about leaving?”

Hunter jumped up and ran past him. “Yes, go pack. We’re going to Olympia.”

Scratching his head, Sebastian grumbled and said, “Huh?”

Hunter raced into his room and began tossing things into his bag.

Haley shook her head and gave Sebastian a sweet smile.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“We’re leaving for Olympia.”

“Who is? We are? Including Granddad?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought he was
dead
.”

“According to everyone back there he is.”

“I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Sebastian asked with confusion written all over his face. “Isn’t it dangerous for him to go back? Could it be dangerous for us? What are we doing?”

Haley stepped up to Sebastian, gently touched his cheek and replied, “You wanted to know what it was like growing up, well, this is what it was like. Welcome to my life.”

***

When Gordon saw the Gulfstream 985 with the Texas flag on the tail section parked on the tarmac, his heart fluttered with excitement.

He nudged John and said, “That looks new.”

“Certainly looks like it,” John said.

Hunter took notice of the aircraft and was curious who it might be.

“Texas has done well for itself,” Gordon said.

“They have, they really have,” John replied.

“It’s about culture and values,” Gordon mused.

“I’d add in identity too. The people in Texas know who they are and where they come from,” John added.

“We had that for a while, but we’ve lost it now.”

“Some have, not all, but it’s time to get things straight again. You know years ago I would have berated you for doing this, but now, hell, after all the shit you’ve made it through, I don’t think you can die.” John laughed.

“Me, you shit, if you didn’t walk on two legs and speak, I would’ve thought you were a cat with all the lives you’ve lived.”

Hunter walked up behind Gordon and John and hoped he could catch a bit of their conversation.

Sensing someone was eavesdropping, Gordon stopped talking and turned around. “Come here, Hunter.” Gordon put his arm around his grandson and said, “Look at that.”

“It’s nice. Whose is it?” Hunter asked.

“I believe it belongs to Autry Lewis,” Gordon replied.

“Like,
the
Autry Lewis?” Hunter asked, shocked to hear his name.

“The very one,” Gordon answered, a big smile gracing his face.

“Wait a minute, if that is his jet, how do you know?” Hunter asked.

“I know him. We go back a ways.”

“What’s it doing here?” Hunter asked.

“Tell him, John,” Gordon said.

“It’s our ride to Olympia. We needed one, so I called in a favor from an old friend. He was gracious enough to send it up here so we could fly in style and discretion,” John explained.

An airport employee walked in off the tarmac and said, “The pilot is ready for you to board.”

“Time to go. Grab your stuff,” John hollered to Haley and Sebastian.

As they walked towards the aircraft, Hunter stayed close to Gordon. “Granddad, how do you know Autry Lewis? I’ve never heard his name mentioned in connection with you except for the typical official dealings years ago. There’s a story, a not-so-good story, I heard about him from back in the early days of the Texas Republic.”

Gordon pulled Hunter aside and let everyone else board the aircraft. He put his hand on his shoulder and said, “Son, a man is nothing more than a collection of his experiences. If he does enough good ones, he’s known for that. If he’s done enough bad ones, well, he gets known for that. One tragedy of the human experience is a good man can do a thousand good things, but if he does one very bad thing, it wipes the slate of every bit of good he’s done. People who don’t know him will judge him just on that one single thing. They will define that man by that one action and then, like he was nothing, can discard his life as if he was worthless. Now God is fair and he did give good men something to balance that. And that one thing is friends. A good friend will know you; they’ll be by your side through all the good times, bad times and dark times, and it’s the dark times where the good man fails. A friend will see them through it, never discarding them, never judging for judging’s sake but holding them accountable so that they can stand tall again.”

Hunter nodded. Gordon didn’t quite answer his question. “And a good friend lets you borrow brand-new jets too.”

“Exactly.” Gordon laughed.

“I get what you’re saying, I think.”

“I hear you don’t have friends really.”

“That’s not true,” Hunter said defensively.

“Like I said, I’ve been watching over you since the day you were born. I know.”

“I find it hard to get close to people, but there are a couple guys I go out and drink with.”

“Would you fight for them? If they contacted you in the middle of the night and asked you to help them bury a body, would your answer be where?”

“I guess not.”

“I did a lot in my life. I accomplished much, I did. You know how I did it?”

“How?”

“By being determined, hardworking, focused. I wouldn’t quit and I wasn’t afraid to fight if I had to, but I also succeeded because of the support of my family and my friends. John in there is one of those friends and you’ve heard about the others—Jimmy, Nelson, Gunny, Brittany—they were all there for me and I wouldn’t have been able to be who I was without them. Autry is another one of those friends. I know the bullshit story, I heard it, but you know something, if you fuck with another man’s woman, I think you’re fair game.”

“But he gutted the man on the floor of the Texas legislature while he was the president,” Hunter said, flabbergasted by the story he’d heard.

“God, I wish I’d seen that. You know he took Skinner with him wherever he went. He even showered with that damn knife. You know what, he warned that son of a bitch to stop seducing his friend’s wife. He warned him, but that dumb ass didn’t listen.”

“That barbaric act almost cost him the presidency, and if he wasn’t who he was, he would have been in jail.”

“He didn’t kill the guy.”

“He cut him from here to here,” Hunter said, motioning his hand from his lower abdomen to his stomach.

“Autry like to use that line, ‘I'll gut you from your balls to your sternum like a mule deer,’ all the time, but I’m not sure if you actually ever really cut someone like that.”

A bit disgusted by Gordon, Hunter sighed. “I understand you all did what you had to do during the war, but civilized society doesn’t conduct themselves that way.”

“Yeah, maybe not. Sometimes I think people like me and Autry are only good for fighting.”

“You two, c’mon, we need to be wheels up,” John said, his head sticking out the door.

“Let’s go. We’ll chat more on the way there,” Gordon said, patting Hunter on the back.

Hunter paused and said, “Don’t get me wrong, Granddad, I appreciate everything you did for us.”

“I know you do.”

“I just don’t want you to hold back.”

“I’ll tell you everything. In fact I’ll tell you about something that happened to me that only a handful of people know about.”

DECEMBER 25, 2015

“Often the difference between a successful man and a failure is not one's better abilities or ideas, but the courage that one has to bet on his ideas, to take a calculated risk, and to act.” – Maxwell Maltz

Old United States Post Office, Geneva, Idaho, Republic
of Cascadia

“I swear you relish taking chances and living on the edge, but this is going too far,” John Steele said to Gordon, who stoically stood on the frozen street, facing east towards the snowcapped mountains.

Gordon didn’t respond, he kept his unflinching gaze on the rolling terrain. “Do you suppose those mountains are in Wyoming?” Gordon asked.

“Huh?” John asked. A deep frustration was building in him.

“Right there, directly due east, those mountains, that must be Wyoming,” Gordon said, his tone calm.

John stepped in front of him and said, “This is a bad idea. How do you know he can be trusted?”

With John blocking his view, Gordon replied, “There aren’t guarantees in life, you know that.”

“This meeting is foolish. Let’s get back in the truck and turn back now before it’s too late,” John pleaded.

“No.”

“Gordon, please.”

“No.”

In the far distance a single Humvee turned and began rumbling towards them.

“He’s coming,” Gordon said. He put his attention back on John and ordered, “Time for you to leave…go.”

“Gordon, please reconsider.”

Gordon unzipped his coat, reached in, and pulled out two white envelopes. He gave them to John and said, “There’s one for you. Open it after you leave.”

“Do not do this,” John pleaded.

“Your nose is looking good, I mean with all the issues you had with it,” Gordon said remembering John’s broken nose following the fight with Charles and his people. “And your lip, I don’t think there’s any way to escape scars in this world,” Gordon continued, this time referring to the thick white scar that had developed on John’s lower lip, another wound from the battle with Charles. His comment made him think of the scar on his face and where he got it.

“Are you listening to me? You’re rambling about nonsense. What’s coming in that Humvee might be your end, your demise.”

Gordon looked at John squarely and said, “I’m not afraid to die, I’m truly not. I only don’t want to die because I’d be leaving my family in this world without me. Every day we take risks, and this isn’t any different. If I don’t figure something out, we will all lose and I’ll end up in some prison or executed for treason.”

“And just what are you going to say?”

Having had enough of his conversation with John, Gordon said, “Go. It was the deal I struck with him.” Seeing that John wasn’t listening, he snapped, “Now.”

“Fool,” John said, snatching the envelopes from Gordon’s hand and marching off to his vehicle.

Gordon wasn’t sure how everything would turn out, but this was the deal he made, and this single moment could seal the fate of his fledgling country.

John sped off and disappeared over the horizon.

A cold wind swept in from the north, giving Gordon a chill down his spine. He shrugged it off, adjusting the beanie on his head. If he had to guess, he’d say the outside temperature was in the teens. The cold temperature wasn’t unusual for Idaho, but the lack of snow cover was. A few storms had come in, but for the most part they were having a drought of sorts. Many in McCall and those in Central Idaho didn’t mind having less snow, considering snow removal was difficult at best.

A glint in the distance caught Gordon’s eye. He squinted to see if he could get a better look but couldn’t see anything, although he had a good idea what and who it was.

The Humvee approached slowly.

A glare bounced off the windshield, making it impossible for Gordon to see who was inside. Suddenly, he became nervous. Self-doubt began to creep into his mind.
Is this a good idea?