Harry Flynt parked in a corner of the Wal-Mart parking lot, a good two hundred feet from the nearest other vehicles. The sliver of sky between the sun and Crowley's Ridge was about to disappear. It always seemed to disappear more quickly than usual at that point. He lowered the window of the old Ford Taurus and looked at the big car dealership across the highway.

Russell Ford Toyota.

Harry remembered when American and Japanese cars weren't sold by the same dealers. Politics had finished what the labor unions had begun long ago, but now even the Japanese manufacturers were seeing their day in the sun passing. He found the Korean cars more interesting these days than he ever had the Japanese. Those had become pretty much the same as the American cars.

'Fuck'em all,' he thought. 'Forty thousand at the low end and so much of it in frivolous electronics and gadgets. More stuff to break.'

The 1995 Taurus had been restored in a shop in Arizona, one that provided small fleets of vehicles, reconditioned and modified for the needs of his people. The Taurus topped out somewhere over 160, he'd decided not to push his luck further. Even with the run-flat tires it probably wouldn't do as well but it was a useful feature, as was the resistance of its electronics to most disabling devices. The faded grey paint let it blend in anywhere.

Of course among cars that looked like stepped-on but not quite squashed bugs, the old cars stood out without bright colors. He wondered how long it would be before the old cars were completely legislated off the roads, leaving only the government-approved ones with built-in surveillance and remote kill switches.

Wonder how long the free states will hold out. If we're lucky they'll try force too soon. The states may not be ready but us that live here will be.

The sun was down now, and he watched the entrances to the parking lot. Before long it appeared.

Its stacked headlights weren't that common sixty years ago rarely seen now except at classic car shows. Harry watched it turn into the first entrance to the parking lot. He got out and closed the door, leaned against the car and lit a cigarette.

The car continued towards him and the driver parked it in the slot next to his car. He'd seen the '66 Mercury Comet before in daylight and it looked like a new one. This one was shiny and clean, with antique tags and a foxtail on the radio antenna and a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror.

Just a harmless old geezer in a restored antique car. Hide in plain sight.

The driver cranked down the window.

"Howdy pardner," the old geezer said.

"Howdy your self and see how you like it," Harry replied.

"Already did," said the old geezer. "Still got a headache."

"Take anything for it?"

"It seems to be goin' away. Let me get some air and that should fix it."

Everything cool so far. Now to make the switch and get on the way.

Harry moved to let Luke open the door and get out. He took a Backwoods cigar out and lit it, allowing Harry a good look at the package.

Honey Bourbon. We're good."

Harry dropped his nearly finished cigarette and stepped on it.

"How's our guest?" he asked.

"Nervous of course. But he's calmed down some. He figures the countryside is crawling with an army hunting for him. He doesn't know much about the situation out here."

"It would be if they had the manpower," said Harry. "But you've been pretty safe since you crossed into Tennessee. They'll have to rely on spies and informants, assuming they have any idea where he is."

"An idea they may have, but no way to be sure. So they'll put as many resources as they can into the area, but it's way too big. Get him into Arkansas, Irondog is waiting at Snaketown and he'll get you where you need to go."

"Snaketown huh? How did Irondog get there so fast? He was running the show in DC."

Luke took a couple of hard pulls on his Backwoods, Harry waited. Some of the damn things were hard to keep lit, but they tasted good and you could chew on them forever without them coming apart. Luke spat tobacco juice on the pavement and grinned.

"If our enemies had any idea... less than fifteen minutes after the break our friend was invisible. Got a blocker for the tracker they had on'em, they figured he didn't know it was there, we knew it was and how to block it. With no way to track him, once they lost visual contact they could't have found him in... anyway it was just a matter of being careful to get him into North Carolina. Irondog, they had no idea he was anywhere around, he went with the extraction team, had a plane waiting at Cherry Valley and he was back in Arkansas before midnight."

"He's back at his HQ?"

"Yeah. Waiting for you to show up with the cargo."

"Well, let's get him loaded up."

Luke rapped his knuckles on the windshield of the Comet, seconds later the passenger door opened and the cargo emerged.

Harry knew what to expect - Nathan Johnson, age 34, member of the Final Guard. The group had attracted little attention until after the government figured out it could round up people wholesale and fling them into durance vile and nothing would be done about it. The Jan 6 Gulag had been increased by literally over a thousand percent by the time of the '28 election, and more growth was planned.

Nothing done until now. Or about a year ago. Johnson had been in one of the earliest sweeps after the '24 election.

Four years in prison without even a trial date.

Some the early ones drew small sentences and had been in so long they were released between their sentence was less than the time they had already been incarcerated. Not so now, even if they waited years for a trial, anything under ten years was unheard of. And the Gulag was like hard time in a regular prison from what they were hearing.

Wonder how he's handled it.

Johnson walked around the front of the Comet to join Harry and Luke.

"Harry, Nathan. Nahan, this is Harry Flynt. He'll be taking you the rest of the way. Harry's the best there is, and we've got backup. You won't see it but your guardian angels will be shadowing you all the way."

Harry and Nathan exchanged nods, Luke opened a oversized commpad and tapped and swiped the screen a few times.

"Alright," he announced after a minute, "Hadriel and Archon are incoming. Move out and drive just under the speed limit. Hadriel will catch up and pass you, just stay with him and Archon will be behind you."

"Let's go kid," said Harry.

Nathan walked around to the passenger side and got in, Harry waiting until Luke was in his car before getting into the Taurus. He started the engine and drove towards the exit. Traffic was light, even even weekends weren't busy in Hickory Ridge, population 2,346 if the signs were to be believed. Nathan sat quietly as he waited for the light on 64 to change. The small town thinned out quickly past the light and they passed the last of the street lights and were in darkness.

"We're about seven or eight miles from I-40," Harry said. "Once were on it it's a straight shot into Arkansas. How you doing?"

"Better than I was this time yesterday," replied Nathan.

"Yeah, I imagine so."

Twenty-four hours earlier Nathan had been on an only moderately nerve-wracking journey through North Carolina. The fact that the regime forces were spread so thin made it theoretically easy once they lost track of him in Virginia, but there was always the chance of someone getting lucky. The wrong someone.

In which case the someone would have a bad day.

"Looks like wardrobe took care of you, how was the food?"

He glanced over to see a wry grin.

"First meal outside of a prison?" Nathan asked. "I was afraid I'd wake up."

"Yeah. We hear things out here. And you were in there a while."

"Five years and change, something. You lose track of time. All runs together after a while."

"Well, you're out now, and sure as hell ain't going back. Hang on..."

Harry had the cruise on 65, ten below the speed limit.

"Next one..."

A late model Cadillac passed, moved back into his lane, the driver tapping the brakes three times.

"Got it... that's one of our escorts. Other one's back a ways. The THP has orders not to stop any cars unless it's someone obviously impaired or thirty over the limit," he said. "We've got a smooth ride to Memphis, nobody gonna bother us."

"What happens in Memphis?" asked Nathan.

"Nothing unless something goes wrong. Memphis is under control but there's feds embedded there, looking to make whatever trouble they can. Which won't involve us since they don't know we're coming. Only risk is having an accident or mechanical problems, and our angels can take care of that. We've got a half dozen units patrolling the area, so nothing to worry about."

"What happens after Memphis?"

"You know anything about the situation, territory-wise?"

"Just a short briefing at the safe house. Apparently the patriots own Tennessee and the whole southeast, along with Missouri, Kansas, and Oklahoma."

"Right. We cross the bridge at Memphis into northeast Arkansas. Arkansas is one place the government didn't pay much mind to before, and it's too late to start now. There's a fair number of enclaves there they have no idea about. We're headed for one."

Nathan dozed off and Harry opened the commpad on the dash and watched the screen. An occasional message from the angels indicated no signs of trouble. Driving the length of Tennessee took a long time, and Harry guessed Nathan hadn't had much opportunity. He was on the move most constantly since being broken out, with a two hour stop at the safe house in Virginia.

Nathan was still sleeping when the first sign informing travelers that Memphis was less than a hundred miles away. The leading angel had been running a mile or so ahead and now dropped back about half the distance. The display of the Commpad showed Harry and his escorts in red, soon blue dots would begin to appear, indicating the local help.

He stayed in the middle lane where there was one, and kept an eye out for the lane he was in suddenly becoming an exit. He didn't like anything about Memphis and liked driving in it less than all the other things he didn't like.

Little Rock. Finally.

He followed the lead angel as the road narrowed from six to four lanes, saw the Hernando de Soto bridge ahead. He thought of the joke about it being the longest bridge in the world. Not that there wasn't a bit of it on the Arkansas side, but it was a quick drive through West Memphis and as long as you didn't stop all would be well.

Nathan woke up as they were crossing the bridge and looked out but didn't say anything. He'd see the Arkansas sign soon enough.

As they passed under the sign he looked over at Harry.

"You're home free," said Harry. "They'll have to win the war to come here, and that ain't gonna happen."

Nathan was silent, when Harry looked over at him he was asleep again.

 *   *   *   *   * 
The remainder of the ride was as uneventful as the beginning. Nathan woke again as Harry wheeled the Taurus off 193 onto the private road that led to their final destination. The road was paved with clay gravel with a layer of chat that was groomed regularly, making it almost as smooth as asphalt but the crunch of gravel under the tires gave it away. The road ended in a circular drive that passed in front of a group of buildings, most of them the industrial metal type found on farms. Harry stopped behind Hadriel's Cadillac and Archon parked a late-model Ford Bronco behind the Taurus.

"We're here," Harry announced. Nathan had been silently looking into the night since they left the highway.

Probably still worried. Can't blame him."

He killed the engine and opened the door.

"Let's go in and meet some folks, OK?"

"Sure, lead on."

Harry had parked in front of a large building with double glass doors under an awning. Several people had gotten out of the escort cars and were standing by them, looking around as if to see if there were any followers or observers. Luke followed Harry to the doors.

Thompson & Murphy Farms

Nathan didn't bother wondering about it. Two days ago he was in a dirty six by ten foot cell, sleeping on a dirty gym mat when he was able to sleep. Which wasn't much. He followed Harry through another set of doors into a larger room.

It looked like a banquet room at a hotel, but with only a few tables for the size of the room. A rostrum with a speaker's podium occupied a third of the far wall, and what was apparently a bar at one end. Complete with bartender and some patrons from the look of it.

"Drink?" Harry asked.

What'll a drink do to me after five years without one, Nathan wondered. He was feeling tired again but decided to go for it.

"Why not?"

The bar was twenty of so feet away and Nathan took the opportunity to assess the scene. Four years in a hellhole, alone twenty-three hours a day, had sharpened his senses. Every sound, temperature change, change in the light, nothing went unnoticed.

The four people at the bar all turned as Harry and Nathan approached.

One older guy, almost Harry's age. Guy in his forties. Two young women. Pretty young women.

"Let's get Nathan a drink," Harry said. "What'll it be?" without asking if he wanted one.

"Beer's good," replied Nathan. "Whatever, long as it's cold and wet."

He hadn't paid much attention to things like hunger and thirst, keyed up as he was.

The bartender produced a bottle and set it down as Harry and Nathan walked up to the bar. The bottle was cold and damp.

Black Oak?

He didn't bother wondering, presumably it was safe to drink whatever they had, as much energy as they'e spent getting him here. Better not to have more than one though, no alcohol in years.

"Usual for me," said Harry, and without further ceremony introduced the others.

"This here," he said, nodding at the older man, "is Gordon. He's a charter member of the Resistance. Russell is based here, as are Angie and Eleanor. They worked on your extraction, been tracking us all the way in. You'll be meeting quite a few of the folks later."

Russell had the look of a military man, or maybe a cop. Nathan guessed military, cops being what they were these days. He guessed Angie's age at mid-twenties, Eleanor maybe ten years older. Both women wore outfits that looked like khaki military uniforms, minus insignia and other decorations. Gordon and Russell were dressed similarly, unlike Harry who was wearing faded jeans and a black turtleneck.

"We've got your quarters ready," Gordon said. "You'll be staying here for a while, until we get you set up with a place and you know your way around. There's over fifty personnel on the premises, and even if our enemies knew about this place they'd be foolish to try anything. As of now it seems they don't even know where you went - Tennessee is just one of the possibilities and we'll see to it they get some hints about other places, in case they have the resources to do any looking. Which they don't, so you've nothing to worry about.

"I probably should get to bed," Nathan said after finishing his beer. "That was good but after years without...."

"Got it," replied Gordon. "Angie and Elly will show you your quarters, while we debrief Harry. See you in the morning, don't be in any hurry. Breakfast will be ready when you are."

Nathan stood up, felt the effect of the alcohol and touched the edge of the table to steady himself.

Gordon noticed and grinned.

"Our preferred beverages are on the robust side."

"I could get used to it," Nathan replied. "Thanks for everything. I know this wasn't without risk."

"It was worth it," said Gordon. "First thing is for you to get well. We'll have you see a doctor tomorrow, just a checkup and some tests to see if your keepers tried any tricks. And of course the tracker will have to be dealt with."

"Sure thing, thanks again."

Nathan followed Angie and Eleanor to an exit and disappeared.

"They'll get him squared away," said Gordon. "He's been through a lot, and he's the first one we broken out. We're hiding a couple of the ones that ran, back when some of them were allowed bail. His debriefing should be interesting."

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Well, let's get it done."

The debriefing was casual, over brandy and cigars.

"We know the enemy has it's agents in Tennessee looking out for you," Gordon told him. "Mostly in Memphis, some in the Nashville area. They can't do much more than watch, but there's no indication you were detected."

"Memphis was the only place I was worried," replied Harry. "It's crawling with informants. Not that they're any good, but they need to be cleaned out."

"The process of removal continues," Gordon said. "They're natives grubbing for whatever the regime agents has to hand out - liquor and cigarettes, and street drugs - and do no more than act like they know something. There was chatter about it, so the word got here and they were looking, for all the good it did."

"Tomorrow we'll put the word out that their man is in half a dozen states," said Russell. "Maybe even have some reports of sightings."

"Where does he go now?" Harry asked.

"To Irondog's domain. We'll have a chat tomorrow or the next day - depending on how he's feeling - and you can drive him out there. If you want to."

"Yeah, I haven't seen the dog in a while," Harry said. "Be interesting to see what he's up to."

"Pretty much whatever he likes," said Russell. "The extraction was his idea, he did the planning and setup. Seems he has an interest in the people in the gulags. Aside from that, he has things we need. So he pitches in when he feels like it, says the outcome is fixed and it's just a matter how long it takes to make it happen."

"He always was independent," Harry said, tapping cigar ash into an ashtray and taking a drink of brandy. "I expect he's playing a bigger game."

Gordon and Russell waited.

"Atlantis," said Harry. "Something we all should be looking at as this thing winds down."