The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6) (25 page)

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“Corporal Nunes, do you know what dead means?”

“Sir, please, it was a simple mistake. We thought—”

Pablo smacked Nunes in the head with the bullhorn and said, “Answer the question.”

“Yes, sir.”

Pablo raised the bullhorn and asked, “Do you all know what dead means?”

His army roared, “Yes, sir!”

“For those who are unsure, this is dead,” Pablo said then raised the pistol placed it against Nunes’ head and pulled the trigger.

The side of Nunes’ head exploded. His lifeless body fell to the ground.

“That is dead!” Pablo exclaimed.

Gonzalez urinated in his trousers after seeing what happened to Nunes.

“Now that we all understand what dead means, we need a lesson on the proper depth of a grave,” Pablo said and looked at Luis.

Luis snapped his fingers.

A soldier ran from the ranks with two shovels.

“You two, bury Corporal Nunes.”

Cheyenne, Wyoming, United States

Loud banging on his office door woke Baxter. Groggy, he got to his feet and went to the door. “Hold on, hold on!” He opened it to find Laura standing there.

“Sorry to wake you. President Cruz would like to see you in his office, now.”

“Oh, the president’s here.  Um, what time is it?” Baxter asked.

“Afternoon, just past two,” Laura replied.

“I’ll be right there.” Baxter put on his shoes and hurried out of the office.

When he arrived at Cruz’s door, he adjusted his clothes, cleared his throat and closed his eyes to say a quick prayer. Ready to see the president, he knocked.

“Come in,” Cruz hollered.

Baxter entered and saw Cruz looking out the window, the same one Conner used to gaze out of. “Mr. President, so good to see you.”

Cruz turned around and said, “Good to be back. General, please take a seat.”

Baxter did as he said.

“I cancelled the staff meeting you had called. I wanted to talk to you privately; then we can have a meeting tomorrow to discuss things.”

“Okay.”

“We’re going to war with Western Canada, there’s no way around it. But we’ll have the support of Canada and the Republic of Cascadia.”

Baxter’s eyes widened. “Ah, excuse me, sir.”

“We will need all assets and available allies to help in this effort. Western Canada is a formidable foe and we’ll need to destroy them decisively.”

“But, sir, you just referred to Cascadia as a republic, a nation state. Are you going to officially acknowledge them?”

“Yes, I’m going to do that, as is Texas, I believe. When I have more time I’ll discuss with you everything that occurred and why I’m making this decision. What I will say is Western Canada must be defeated.”

“As you wish, sir.”

“That’s it, you agree?”

“Yes, sir, you’re the president. We will have to work with a press person to draft talking points and a notice to the people.”

“That reminds me, find someone capable; I want to bring on an official press secretary. We need someone with a silver tongue to speak for us.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And finally, I have sent my mother to Cheyenne Mountain; I want all spouses and children of our top people in the administration to be sent there too. We’re going to war and Cheyenne will be a target. I can’t have our families used as pawns in this war; the prime minister has shown us he’ll do anything, including kidnapping our families, to complete his aims.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ha, you’re very agreeable today.”

“Just happy to have you back safe and sound, sir. I’ll admit I was a bit scared. Being in the hot seat is…difficult. You’re the better man for the job, not me.”

“That gets me to my final point; I need a vice president. I shirked my duty by not having someone in that position. That won’t happen again,” Cruz said and walked over to Baxter. “General, you and I have worked closely together since the beginning. You’ve been a trusted ally, confidant and I hope to say friend. We’ve literally been through a lot together. I look at you and I see a man who is not perfect, by no means, but one who I believe loves his country and only wants what is best for it.”

Baxter lifted his chest in pride as Cruz spoke. He knew where this conversation was headed and he only wanted Cruz to shut up so he could say yes.

Cruz stepped away and walked behind his desk. “General, I’m torn. I’m struggling with making a decision and I need your input.”

Those words deflated Baxter, as it sounded like he wasn’t to be the pick.

“I know none of us are perfect, we fail and make mistakes, but shouldn’t we look at the entire life of a person versus one thing? You see, General, I was given this by Secretary Franklin upon my return. He barely shook my hand before shoving this into the other,” Cruz said and picked up the envelope that Ferguson had given Baxter.

Baxter’s stomach churned and tightened. In the matter of a minute he was riding high and now he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

“I didn’t look at it until I returned to my office, and let me say, it’s intriguing stuff. I brought Franklin in here and asked him where he got it. He told me from the scene of your attack the other day. It was on the floor of the vehicle.”

“Sir, let me explain.”

Cruz held up his finger. “Let me finish. I asked him what else he knew about it. He told me they didn’t have anything else. General, there are two outcomes from this. Is this true?”

“Mr. President, let me explain.”

“Is this true?”

“Yes.”

“So you, Secretary Wilbur and good old Pat were the leaders of the resistance?”

“Yes.”

“So you orchestrated the bombings that tried to kill President Conner?”

“No.”

“I need you to be honest.”

“I am, sir, the resistance had nothing to do with that. It is my belief that President Conner and Major Schmidt did those. They were a false flag so Conner could seize more power.”

“That’s quite a conspiracy.”

“I know, but I believe it to be true. I stopped working with them long before that occurred.”

“Why did you join them?” Cruz asked.

“I believed Conner was becoming a dictator. I found some of his actions unconscionable, and I don’t believe he had any intention of allowing democracy to return.”

“What was your goal?”

“My goal was to have him removed and you put into power.”

“Me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the most recent bombing, who was that?”

“A man by the name of Eli Bennett, sir. He and Western Canada orchestrated that. If you speak with Megyn Sherman, she’ll explain everything.”

“I have already. She corroborates what you just told me.”

“And this Eli Bennett, do you know where he is?”

“No, sir,” Baxter answered.

“Why would he seek to work with Western Canada?”

“Sir, it’s my belief, and I’m sorry I have to provide beliefs and not concrete facts, but I believe he was in love with Bethanny Wilbur. He holds you, Conner, and this entire administration responsible for her death.”

“So he’s a vengeful lover?”

“I don’t think they were lovers,” Baxter clarified for no reason.

“You believe his motives stemmed from her death?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you leave the resistance?”

“I thought their methods were possibly about to take a turn for the worse and get violent.”

“Why didn’t you warn us?”

“Out of fear, sir, if I had told Conner, he would have thanked me then had me shot.”

Cruz nodded. “That’s probably true. So you disavow them and regret what you did?”

“With all my heart, sir, I made a mistake, and once I realized that, I cut them loose and worked doubly hard to ensure Conner was successful.”

Cruz tossed the papers on the desk and walked back to the window and thought.

Sweat rolled down his back. Baxter considered a multitude of options: run, fight or surrender. He chose surrender. The fighting was over; he would accept his fate. “Sir, what is to become of me? Can I ask that the trial be quick, and if execution is my punishment, that it be swift and honorable? I know that’s a lot to ask from a traitor.”

“No, General, none of that is going to happen. You’re not going to be arrested or tried or executed, General. You’re going to be my vice president.”

Sandy, Utah

Sweat dripped off Gonzalez’s and Rolando’s faces as they smoothed out the dirt that covered the grave of Corporal Nunes.

Pablo kept the entire army at attention the whole time, including Luis. He wanted the lesson to sink in that orders were to be obeyed without question and by making them suffer they’d remember it distinctly.

Gonzalez and Rolando wiped off their faces and stepped forward.

“Done?” Pablo asked from his seat.

“Yes, sir,” Rolando said.

“Now you know what the proper depth is?” Pablo said.

Both men nodded and said, “Yes, sir.”

“Now tell me whose idea was it not to kill them?” Pablo asked.

The shocking question made Rolando cry.

Gonzalez groaned. “It was Corporal Nunes, sir.”

“Okay, but neither of you thought it wise to report it? Neither of you thought that his bad judgment would come back and harm us all?” Pablo asked.

Rolando began to wail.

“Sir, we didn’t think we could do anything. He’s a noncommissioned officer,” Gonzalez replied in a weak attempt at defending himself.

Pablo stood up, grabbed the bullhorn and said, “If you see something that is wrong, should you do something, should you report it?”

The army replied, “Yes, sir!”

Pablo looked at the two privates and said, “Corporal Nunes failed and he’s suffered the consequences. You both failed, but what shall we do with you?”

“Sir, we’ve suffered enough,” Gonzalez answered.

Rolando kept crying.

“Stop crying,” Pablo ordered.

Rolando tried but was overwhelmed with self-pity.

“I believe the men in this army deserve an apology because what you did hurt them as well,” Pablo said and walked away to think about the appropriate punishment. He rubbed his chin for a second and pondered. “General Luis, any ideas?”

Tired of standing, Luis wanted it to end for everyone. “A gauntlet, sir.”

“Yes, a gauntlet, what an amazing idea. General, line up the men in two rows,” Pablo said, excited by the prospect of witnessing such a spectacle. He turned to the two privates and said, “The gauntlet is your punishment. I wish you the best, and if you survive, I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson.”

***

Gonzalez and Rolando hurried through the first third, but the punches and blows to their faces and bodies were too much to weather. By the time they had reached the middle, they were battered, bleeding and crawling.

Like a cheerleader, Pablo barked at them to continue on.

Many of the men in the army wanted to show restraint and mercy, but with Pablo watching, they hit harder to prove they agreed with their emperor.

Rolando and Gonzalez passed out just a short distance past halfway.

Pablo looked at the two men and ordered, “Bury them….properly.”

Luis stepped forward and said, “But, sir, I think they’re alive.”

Pablo smiled and said, “They won’t be for long.”

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

Cruz honored his word and provided Gordon and Samantha a helicopter to fly them back to McCall. The first priority for Gordon was to retrieve John’s body.

“Poor John,” Samantha said as the helicopter lowered onto the road thirty feet from the destroyed Humvee.

Gordon didn’t wait for the helicopter to touch down before he jumped out and ran towards his old vehicle. The windshield was shattered and the blackened hood was cracked and warped. The front axle was sheared off the chassis and lay forward of the engine compartment. There was no salvaging the Hummer, it was a total loss.

The driver’s door and rear hatch lay open. Gordon ran to the driver’s side and looked in, fully expecting to see John’s body but instead found an empty seat. He looked in the back and circled around the vehicle.

Samantha exited the helicopter and came to see. “Is he not there?”

“No.”

“He must be alive,” Samantha said.

Gordon ran back to the helicopter and ordered, “I need you to contact this frequency.”

The pilot did as he asked.

While he waited for a response, Gordon went back to see if he could find any signs of life or maybe John’s body somewhere.

“President Van Zandt, I have someone on the radio.”