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By the Author of Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica
Dear Diary,
It’s me, Jessica.
Okay. I am mad. I am angry. I am hurt. I want to shoot something. Multiple somethings! Or the same thing a bunch of times!
Okay, sigh. Let me back up.
So, Billy and I have had this . . . “thing,” between us. An attraction. We would be kinda flirty. Sometimes holding hands.
Now, there is this girl from one of the farms out by the Miller’s. And she is nothing! Nothing! Like me!
I am a member of the militia. I am a good shot. I am the Hero of Four Corners! Sean sings a song about me! And others cheer him on as he sings! Clapping me on the back afterward! I have been to the city to help deliver a baby. I teach. Well, she does too at the school they have set up out there. But she also knits. She cooks from scratch. Bakes bread. Makes fresh pasta. I guess she can slaughter and butchers chickens, rabbits. Even sheep. She milks them, too. Makes cheese. Gardens. Knows all about livestock and horses.
And Billy seems to have taken a real interest in her.
I talked to Mom about it. She was very nice about it. She listened to me. Tried to give me some advice. But was just so . . . “Momish.”
Dad looked like a deer in headlights, if that phrase can still be used.
So, I went to Rae. And Allison, Kathy and Joan all listened. They gave me advice to do what I could to win Billy’s affection back. They were very supportive.
Oddly, it was Jack, of all people, who, looking back, made the most sense.
It was during weekly militia training, he could tell I was “off.”
After training, he pulled me aside and we sat down, away from the others.
“What is going on?”
With tears in my eyes I told him. Told him everything.
He nodded. Looked off into the distance, thinking as he does, scratching Samson behind his ears. After a long moment, he looked back at me.
“Jessica, things are different now. Before the power went out, it was expected for you to not even think of a real, serious relationship before you graduated high school or even college. Young people were putting off marriage later and later in life. Some, not at all. Your parents planned on you attending college. You got the smarts for it. Now, things are different. Without modern medicine, the average persons life span got that much shorter. More like the life span of the pre-industrial revolution, late 1800s like life span. People married at very young ages. As young as fifteen or sixteen. They had many children. Some would live. Others would die. That is just the way it was. You are something different.”
I started to say something but Jack stopped me with an upheld hand.
“I do not mean different in a bad way. A housewife? You don’t have that kind of thing in you. You are meant for something different. You have already proven yourself, under the intense forage of fire by combat, it to be something more. I cannot speak for Billy, but maybe he might be intimidated by your strength. Your nerve.”
He stopped me again from saying something.
“That is not a criticism of your strength. It is a testament to your courage. Nor is it a criticism of Billy. He is a good young man. But, he may need something different. You need to consider that.”
Diary, Jack is right. I am something different. Things have changed. Do I really want to be like her? More like a housewife, cranking out children? Or something else? I am at a loss. What do I do?
Entry two
Diary, for the first time in a long time, I saw and heard running vehicles. The last time was when Jack took a small team to the city to get antibiotics for Joanna in the two trucks he took from those people who took Rae, Allison, Kathy, Joan, and others as slaves and “entertainment.” That idea and seeing the condition they were in when Jack and his team freed them still sets my blood aboil.
Rae and I were chatting with others at Sean’s shack as he spoke with Jack when the call went out there were three vehicles coming across the bridge. The first was a big 4×4 pickup truck. The second was a big, black SUV. The third was a cargo van.
When something happened and possible trouble, the Four Corners militia would run and man the North, East, and South gates, but no one to the vehicle barricade at the bridge to the West. With the exception of Jack and his team going to the city for antibiotics, when we went to help City HAM Guy’s girlfriend deliver their baby, and when we just recently went to trade with Jamal from the city for supplies, no one has seen anyone else come across the bridge in a very long time. Jack, Rae, and I ran for the bridge blockade while Sean re-directed some of the militia to the bridge.
Jack admired whoever built the blockade as we climbed up to the second level of the blockade looking the bridge and the slowly approaching vehicles.
“They made a ‘chute’ just wide enough for a vehicle to get through but barely able to open the vehicle doors. They put a forty-five-degree angle sharp turn in the middle to prevent anyone from running through the chute at speed. Then, with these elevated positions overlooking the approach and the chute, we could light them up easily.”
“Where did they learn to do that?” Rae asked.
“Someone who has spent time in Afghanistan. We did the same thing but used con-ex boxes for the barricade and the chute. Then two positions of MG240 machine guns and a Ma Deuce over watch the chute, nothing short of a armored vehicle could survive that. We had a few not-so-bright insurgents try. Did not end well for them.”
“Chicken and biscuits, Jack!” Rae exclaimed.
The three vehicles stopped short of the barricade and the chute. After a moment, the passenger door of the pickup truck opened, and a man got out. He appeared to be wearing body armor, a helmet, and a rifle, but it was hanging at his side.
In a loud and commanding voice, he said,
“The state governor is in the SUV behind me. She requires safe passage, food, and all the fuel you have.”
Sean quickly spoke to three of Four Corners militia and sent them to the North, East, and South gates to bring half of them back to the bridge as fast as they could. He then stood up in the bed of a pickup truck from above.
“Aye. She can have safe passage. What does she have to trade for food? And we don’t have any fuel. Have not had any for quite some time, lad.”
The man visibly bristled at Sean’s response.
“She is the governor of the state and is in charge.”
“Aye. She might be the governor, but she is in charge of two things . . . Jack and, well, bovine excrement, to put it nicely. There are children present.”
Others added to Sean’s comment, “I did not vote for her!”
“I voted for the other guy!”
“She is the governor of nothing!”
“I would sooner give allegiance to the King of New America before I would her!”
Sean chuckled at the comments as he looked around.
“Lad, it seems we are at an impasse as to your governor’s demands. We are not so inclined to be impressed with titles, declarations, and,” he looked past the man, “Black Cadillac SUVs. For that matter, we might be a bit upset with them as they just might be the ones who brought us to this sorry state.”
“She is the governor of the state, and due respect and support! She is the one and only legitimate form of state government. To keep society and the economy functioning!”
“Lad, if you have not noticed, society and the economy are not functioning. At least not like it was before the power went out. We have been functioning just fine with our own little society. Our own, elected local government. Our own trade and local economy for what it is. And we did all that without so much as a by-her-leave.”
As dozens of others arrived from the North, East, and South gates, they took to the barricade and cheered Sean on.
The man looked very uncomfortable when a door from the Cadillac SUV opened and a women emerged in a light gray pant suit. She whispered something to the man, he looked relieved, and she walked up boldly to the barricade and looked up at Sean.
“May I have a word with you?”
Entry three
“She’s the governor, all right,” Sean muttered, as we all climbed down from the barricade.
“And exactly what authority does she have here at Four Corners? Sean, you have more authority as mayor and the backing of us all,” Jack said defensively.
“Easy there, Jack,” Rae said. “I think this might call for a woman’s touch. Sean, I will come with you. Jack, I want you to stand behind me. Jessica, behind Sean. Sling your rifles over your backs, but all business. Let’s bring a few camp chairs.”
We walked through the chute and set up the camp chairs, with one for the governor in a small circle. The governor took her seat, and the man from the pickup truck was behind her.
“Governor, my name is Sean, the Mayor of Four Corners. This here is Rae, headmistress of one of the local schools. Jack behind her. And behind me is young Jessica, the Hero of Four Corners.”
Diary, at first, I wanted to facepalm. But instead, I gave the governor my best Jack-like “grins.”
The governor looked puzzled. As she addressed each of us, she said, “The mayor. Head mistress. The muscle. And a hero who looks like she is not old enough to vote, let alone drive.”
“That pretty much sums it up,” Rae said in her Southern drawl. The governor studied Rae for a moment, then bluntly asked,
“Do you recognize me as the governor?”
“Ma’am, I recognize you were the governor of the state. From what we have seen and heard, there is no functioning government higher than a day’s walk.”
“Aye. Heard on the radio nets of there being more than a few new presidents, new nations, and even some guy claiming to be the King.”
The governor looked like she was about to say something, then leaned forward, crossed her legs, and stared down at the bridge for a long moment. The only sound was of the rushing river below us. She sat back up, straightened, and sighed.
“You’re right.”
“Governor,” the man behind her started, but she cut him off.
“No, Greg. There is no point in telling them anything different.” She looked back at Sean and Rae.
“They are speaking the truth of the matter.”
Entry four
For the next hour, the governor told us what she knew. It was not much.
The power went out. No one could say how or why. It was not just the state but nationwide. There were rumors of power outages in other countries, but that could not be confirmed. The military, with its own backup generators and its own classified intranet, claimed to have evidence suggesting a combined, coordinated cyber and physical attack on the grid in multiple places.
Then there were sporadic reports of an invasion, but no one could say who.
Jack then mentioned his first trip to the city, the dead people in uniforms and language he did not recognize. The tracked vehicle is on its side with the front half blown off. Jack re-told City HAM Guy’s story of heavy fighting, armor, artillery but not knowing who was who.
The governor looked up at Greg and solemnly nodded. She continued.
She and her staff had their own secure headquarters. But with limited amounts of food, water, and other supplies, things started to go badly. They were also limited on fuel for their own generators. Once the fuel was gone, so was communications. By then, the remaining staff were in a panic about getting to their loved ones. The rest had left just a few days after the power went out.
The capital city never was as safe as it could be. It had gotten worse with police staffing shortages during and after COVID. At that point, it did not matter. It was every man or woman for themselves. Even the police. Some communities banded together and formed their own blockades to protect their neighborhoods. She was shocked at how, in such a short amount of time, people were fighting and killing each other, even neighbors for food or clean water.
Her and her remaining loyal staff had come from the direction of the city. But they went around it to avoid any potential violence. The last of her staff was the driver of the pickup truck and Greg. Her driver and her personal assistant in the Cadillac. And the driver of the cargo van, including what supplies they had. The governor was looking to form a coalition of supporters in the state to form a new government. What they found was anything from warlords to violent gangs to communities with their own form of independent government.
The governor then surprised me by asking me directly. “Who would you want to be the leaders of your government?”
Diary, I then surprised myself with my own answer. “The only people I would want in my government are the ones who would stand with me in a firefight.”
She considered my answer for a moment.
“I haven’t heard the story, but I think I am beginning to see why they call you the Hero of Four Corners. You’ve got something in you.”
Diary, I could not help but smile. And I felt something different. I think it was pride. And something more.
