One Second After

The cult over in Knoxville with its leader proclaiming he was John the Baptist reincarnated was still running. There were reports of others, some nutcase proclaiming he was the messiah, others speaking in tongues and looking for answers in Revelation, others just beyond madness believing that aliens had invaded. He thought of that one small coven up above Haw Creek, a couple of dozen families and a church, which according to rumors not too long ago was into passing snakes around. They had sealed themselves off completely, said that it was the end-time and God’s wrath was at hand. No one dared to even get within a hundred yards of their barrier now, and John wondered what madness they were practicing up there.

“They have nothing to lose now,” John continued. “A nation under martial law, they’ve looted, raped, murdered. They know that if civilization ever gets the upper hand again, any semblance of order, all of them will be put against the wall and shot. So nothing to lose.

“Mix into that the terror of it all. We figured out it was an EMP, but others… especially others who were already off-kilter? What’s the answer? God got angry, Gaia the Earth spirit got pissed, Satan took over?”

He found he was almost on the edge of hysteria himself. His hands shaking slightly, he pulled out another cigarette and tossed yet another over to Don.

“Satan’s taken over. Maybe whoever’s leading them is preaching that. God has turned his back on America, Satan has won, so anything goes. I doubt if all of them are doing it; I want to think most of them are as terrified of whoever is running their crew as we are. But I’m willing to bet whoever is running it is shouting that he has the inside dope from God, Satan, whomever.”

“It’s insane,” Charlie whispered.

“Remember Jonestown. Those were Americans, even though they no longer lived in the forty-eight. And nearly a thousand of them committed suicide because of some damn nutcase who told them to drink Kool-Aid laced with poison because God had ordered it through him.

“Look, you get people scared, then you knock out every prop that we’ve taken for granted. After these last sixty days I bet there’s a dozen prophets running around this country saying, ‘Follow me,’ and even if but one-tenth of one percent of the survivors do so, that will still be hundreds of thousands of barbarians on the march and the rest of us running, scared shitless of them.

“Damn our enemies who did this to us, they knew us well,” John sighed. “They knew human nature too well, and just how fragile civilization is, and how tough it is to defend it. Something we forgot.”

No one spoke until Don finally stirred.

“I flew back along the interstate,” he said softly. “I counted, between Morganton, Old Fort, and on the road, about two hundred-fifty vehicles total.”

“A thousand to fifteen hundred people then,” Washington said.

“And just remember this, gentlemen. I was a trained artillery spotter, so I know how to count and how to spot.”

“We don’t doubt you,” Charlie said.

“In this case, don’t doubt me. Now for the troubling aspect tactically.”

“They’re coming round the back,” John said.

“Exactly. That’s why I flew over here on my way back. I counted two dozen vehicles on the old dirt road, right at the base of the mountains by Andrew’s Geyser. Some on the abandoned paved road. A couple more farther up, near where the railroad track crosses over the old dirt road. They know our back door, and not just the interstate.”

“Any on the old fire roads?” Charlie asked. Don shook his head.

“Hard to see, with the summer canopy,” he said.

“I doubt it,” Washington interjected. “Unless they have a couple of local boys, those old fire roads are mazes. My bet is they’ll stick to the old abandoned paved road, the dirt road farther to the north, and the railroad track as their flanker, and they’ll hit there first.”

“I agree,” Charlie said.

“They could be here trying to maneuver into a flanking position by late afternoon,” Don said. John nodded.

“They must have a good military leader in there, knows his stuff and has done a thorough recon on us by now and sees the flank roads as the opening move. They’ll hit just before dawn,” John said. “Hope to catch us sleeping. If I was one of them, Don here flying around would tell me that what’s waiting for them has some kind of warning, so they will move fast rather than give us time to prepare.

“We can pray they’re just a mob that overruns by numbers and surprise, but it looks like there are some ex-military with them. Worst case, they got a couple of recon types who know how to figure out the ground, the defenses, the approaches, and formulate the plan of attack.