MacArthur's Freehold
Enak Nomolos
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Title - Part I
Chapter   1
Chapter   2
Chapter   3
Chapter   4
Chapter   5
Chapter   6
Chapter   7
Chapter   8
Chapter   9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Title - Part II
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Title - Part III
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79


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Chapter 13 -- TNBYIJXUEXROTSIMBVG

The next day was spent in the woods, split into several groups they entered the forests covering most of the hills. The main objective was a combination of physical conditioning and woodcraft. They followed an instructor deep into the woods, and then tried to find their way back without help. Jessica and several others had been on these excursions before, and had little trouble, while Carter discovered that his experiences had not prepared him for this, and he would have been in trouble alone. Once among the hundreds of square miles of trees, with no trail, he doubted he could had found his way back to the rendezvous point after they had been walking for a few minutes.

They wore boots with trousers tucked in, as they were encounters with snakes were possible. They didn't see any, but their guide assured them they were present. He wasn't excited about the idea of encountering one, but Jessica assured him the only way to get bitten was to step on one, hence the boots, or to deliberately touch it which, strangely enough, some foolish people had been known to do.

Their guide was a member of the freehold, a young man in one of the Nine families. He was, like most of the Niners, as he thought of them, young - probably mid twenties. He seemed to have spent a good deal of time outdoors, his skin deeply tanned and with a generally robust appearance. Carter had worked with him in the close combat exercises, and was impressed with his speed and agility for his stout build.

"Not out here though," she told him. "City people on vacation do stuff like that."

"Thanks," he said.

"You're not a city person now," she said, smiling. "And you'll be a country boy before you know it."

"Even when I was a city person I knew not to pick up a snake," he said.

"Believe it or not," she said, "it happens."

"Well," he said "considering the state of society, I'm not surprised."

"That's why we're in the situation we're in. The big cities aren't just hives of crime and corruption, they're in a precarious situation in the event of any disruption of normal processes. The food supply in even the smaller cities, is only good for a few days. If the highways, bridges, even some of them, were cut off you would have people desperate for food almost immediately. The stores would be stripped clean in the initial panic, and if the supply was not restored immediately - well, we wouldn't want to be there."

"Yeah," Carter said. "What do we think would happen?"

"Well, you have riots and city blocks burned down - after being looted, of course - when a career criminal gets killed by a cop, a few tens or hundreds of thousands of people without food, use your imagination."

They had come to a small stream, and as they crossed, walking on slippery rocks, they held hands in a chain to prevent falls. When they had all crossed their guide called a halt.

"One thing to remember, if you're lost in the woods, a stream can be useful if you happen to come across one. Follow it. If you don't have a compass or don't know which direction to go even with one, and if you're in hilly country, go downhill. Roads, and eventually people, will more likely be found downhill. And streams run downhill. And if you're lost without any prospects for rescue, downhill is the way to go anyway."

The hike continued, and eventually they descended a hill overlooking a lake. It didn't look like one of the ones they had seen while Tracy and Jessica were showing him around.

"There are five lakes, or very large ponds," Jessica told him. "and probably a dozen or so smaller ponds made by building a dam across a small valley or a low area. Aside from being a source of water and food in emergencies, think of the things you could hide by sinking them in a deep lake, one that you control access to."

"Are any of the lakes deep?" Carter asked.

"The big ones are. A couple of them are probably a hundred feet or more in places."

Carter could see how effective that could be. Even if a lake was suspected of being a hiding place, it would take some work to find the goods, unless the exact location was known. With enormous bins full of grain, lakes in remote mountains, he wondered how many hiding places there were, and of what kind and what was in them. Weapons, certainly, and other supplies.

"I suppose if you wanted to hide a person, underwater wouldn't be a good place."

"Not likely," said Jessica, smiling. "Still thinking about where to hide a renegade?

"I suppose a good system of safe houses would help," he said. "I would guess something like that exists."

"Of course. The trick with keeping someone safe is discipline. Any relaxation or slip in protocols and procedures can give you away. And the person being kept hidden must be able to adhere to that discipline. That's why a lot of the people put in witness protection blow their cover, and some of them just can't handle it and get out."

"I wonder if we couldn't do as well or better, given our resources."

"Probably, but it would depend on the candidate."

"Yeah, always does."

The trek went slowly due to the near absence of trails, requiring the hikers to tread slowly, often stopping to avoid low-hanging branches or other obstacles. At a pace of probably less than a mile per hour, Carter could see how difficult it would be for anyone, especially a stranger, to move around. He suspected the locals could probably do quite well on their own in areas they visited frequently. A guerilla war in places such as this would favor the defenders. Given the degree of determination he saw in everyone he met, along with their competence, if things came to a full-blown war, it would be a bloody one.

About four hours in Roger called a halt, and most of the group sat down or leaned against trees. They had stopped a couple of times for a ten minute or so rest, but most were fairly tired, and they still had to retrace their steps to get back.

"Anyone know where we are?" Roger asked as they prepared to return.

No one did, even Jessica and a couple of others who had been on such excursions before, had an idea. The woods all looked the same. Even Roger took out his phone to check their position before starting.

"As you can see," he said, "even I need some help getting around here. One and a half square miles is a lot of territory, and probably three fourths of it is tree-covered hills. Even we who live here can get lost, so you can imagine how much trouble intruders would have."

The walk back seemed easier, probably because food and rest awaited them at the end. Roger had passed out military web belts, each with a couple of canteens, partly for the feel of carrying some gear, and the water would be needed even though the weather was not especially hot. Still, the quart containers were mostly empty by the time they got back.

They arrived with time to go their cabins and clean up before the evening meal, something Jessica, even with her experience, seemed to appreciate.

"If things get really bad someday," she said when he commented, "we'll do what we have to do. For now, I'm going to enjoy civilization while it's still here."

He had noticed that seemed to be the prevailing attitude. Women and men and alike were always clean and in fresh outfits every morning, and all looked like average suburban or small-town middle class types or, he thought, at least the way they used to look. Even among the ex-military types he saw no tattoos, much less on the civilians. And not a piercing in sight, except the earrings the women wore and there were not many of those, likely due to the nature of the outing. He wondered if any of the generations replacing his were anything like that.

As before, there was a small gathering for a couple of beers after the meal, and he made a couple of new acquaintances. Having now met most of them, he saw a pattern - quite a few ex-military and law enforcement, several family members of the Nine, and a few regular citizens recruited he knew not how, but evidently had passed the vetting process.

Later, in their cabin, they turned on the news again to check the progress of events in Little Rock. As expected, the trouble was beginning. Or from the look of it, well underway.

"Looks like they've got it going," Carter said. The current video was showing a crowd like the night before, only the dozens were now hundreds. At this point there were no apparent fires, and the scene seemed relatively calm.

"It may be a while before the professional agitators arrive," said Jessica. "Little Rock isn't a prominent target, like LA and New York, or even Minneapolis or Portland They'll have to load up some of the organizers and probably some loads of equipment. Probably St. Louis will the staging point, so it's a short drive. If the past is any indicator, they should have it going today, tomorrow at the latest."

At this point the 'equipment' was a few large signs that looked like poster board. "Justice for De'Andre" was demanded by a couple of them, while another demanded that someone 'stop killing us', and the other usual signage.

"I'd have to guess they are going to make it a big one," said Carter. "It is a little off the beaten path and not very big, but it looks like no opportunity is being missed. I'm guessing the local government isn't such that it won't get ugly."

"I wouldn't think so," Jessica said. "It's like St. Louis and Kansas City, and most other big cities. Essentially, they're on the side of the rioters. There seems to be a hatred of normal people, and of course normal people don't operate that way, and they aren't offering any resistance."

"Sometimes," said Carter, "it looks like our only chance is that when they finally get it broken enough to take over, they will find that they can't control it. That might give us some breathing room."

"We'll do our best to make that happen," said Jessica, "if it doesn't happen on its own. Or even if it does, anything we can do to make it worse. The police forces, most likely augmented by military force, can be kept busy in the cities, too busy to be grabbing our weapons and supplies. Or trying to."

"That would certainly be helpful."

Not much developed before they went to bed. He was wondering what was about to happen as Jessica stopped, facing him.

"As they say," she said "About last night..."

"It's OK," he said. He grinned. "If you're planning a repeat performance, I'm up for it."

She smiled, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Good night."