PROLOGUE
June 19, 2009
A small log cabin in the woods on the outskirts of Brattleboro, Vermont.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, we don't even have electricity way out here?” The auburn haired young woman said, looking at her husband.
“Relax, sweetheart. It's just a cozy little weekend getaway” The tall, heavyset man said, smiling at his beautiful wife. “I just thought it would be nice to have a little cabin up here, and my parents didn't mind selling me the cabin and the pond. We can fish or hunt right outside our back door.”
“Yay.” she said, rolling her eyes in polite exasperation. “Just what I always wanted to do. Play with fish guts on my weekend off.”
The couple walked through the small three room cabin, noting where minor repairs would need to be made, holding hands and throwing quick, loving glances at each other.
“Besides, the way things are lately, I wouldn't mind moving some of our emergency supplies up here. You know, a place to get away from the city, if things get bad.” The man said, frowning in thought.
“Whatever makes you happy, honey. I know you worry about that, even if it is a little ridiculous.”
“Hey, you love me and my tinfoil hat!” He said playfully to her. She smiled and nodded.
“At least it's shiny so I can see you when you get lost wandering the “wasteland”.” She made airquotes around the word, giggling at him.
“And here's the best part of this little cabin. A full basement! I'm thinking of maybe putting a generator out back too. We can run electric lines from my parent's house but I want to have the generator as back up too. I'll put a big fuel tank out back.” The man said to the woman, wrapping his arm around her as they descended to the dark but dry basement. “This place can actually hold quite a bit of supplies. I can store some of my hunting gear too.”
“Hunting, huh? Right.” She laughed. “Ugh, look at the spiders...oh my God!” She squeeled. “Is that a raccoon?”
“Babe, it's just a chipmunk. Come back!”
The chimes from his cell phone indicated a new email had just arrived. Probably more spam, he thought. His lovely wife was already on her way back to the car for the two hour ride home, but he stopped, pulled out his cell phone, and checked the new email. He frowned when he saw who it came from.
We've been outvoted. We're going to join with the Free State Coalition. They have money and resources we can only dream about, and they are backed by someone high up, I don't know who. The selling point was some kind of secret plan they have, something they say can't be ignored. I tried to talk the council out of it, but I don't think that even if you'd been here, we could have changed their minds. I don't like where this is going. Get your ducks in a row, buddy. -JCon14
He frowned as he finished reading it. “Dammit all to hell!” he muttered to himself as he hit the REPLY button.
That's insane. Those guys are white supremacists and don't give a damn about the Constitution! How can the New England Constitutionalists back them? It doesn't make any sense. Hell, those guys just bought up all that land on the Mexico border and built some kind of compound, and they're probably involved in drug smuggling too! You know how I feel about that.
I have a feeling some of our “brothers” have been bought. I did NOT sign up to smuggle drugs or blow up federal buildings to defend our rights. Stay low and watch your back. You know where to find me when the Shit Hits The Fan.
-M
He hit the SEND button, stuffed his cell phone back in to his shirt pocket, and walked out of the cabin, forcing a smile onto his face.
