CW2, D.R. SMITH [little readers .TXT] 📗

Once the woman had been placed in the handmade impression and the extracted ground smoothed over her, Shane began his hike toward the cluster of boulders she had originally been hiding behind, praying all the time that there wasn’t a child, several children, or a baby over there. The walk took less than 10 minutes and he found the spot more difficult to pinpoint than the terrain along the way was to negotiate in the fading light. His hand had brushed a cactus en route creating that annoying prickly feeling that he despised. As he drew within 12 feet of the hiding place, he slowed his pace to a tippy toed sneak. He had deployed his pistol once again and took up his ready to fire stance. As he jumped around the edge of the rock walled cove, he noticed a few items scattered in various places… but nothing appeared to be living.

He switched on the light clipped to the underside of his cap’s bill and began sweeping the area until… it paused on something. Once Shane had identified what he was looking at, his gun went loose in his hand as it first swung momentarily on his finger through the trigger guard, and then finally fell to the ground. Shane crumbled to his knees in tears, clutching his stomach and crying out.

“No! Not this! I can’t take anymore! This is just too much!” His emotional breakdown lasted till the sun began to faintly light the sky.

Chapter One B

Three Years Earlier

After having woke up only three minutes ago, Shane Collins rubbed both eyes in an attempt to bring them into focus. He scooted himself up onto his elbows and glanced around the bedroom. Then, as he had done so frequently over the past 3 years, he looked to his left at her side of the bed. It was, of course, empty.

Rachel was gone.

Final.

Nothing could change that.

Nothing.

Sleeping had become the one activity during which he couldn’t escape the obvious reminder of her absence. This realization had become a daily ritual. Shane had seriously considered buying a single or twin size bed in order to ‘eliminate’ the vacancy in their queen. He truly never saw all of this coming. Life seemed so… so etched in granite. Solid. Seemingly on its unstoppable course to a typical ‘senior citizen’ ending.

Instead, he not only found himself trying to adjust to life without his wife, but his children had nearly abandoned him. Rachel and her mother had a way of conveying ‘non-support’ for the man of the house, to the children. No matter how hard Shane had tried over the years to grow closer to the kids, the mentality Rachel and Margaret inflicted on them seemed to win.

And it had worked like a charm. All six children rarely communicated with him or invited him to anything. This divisiveness was what led to his drastic career change. From medical administrator to truck driver. The driving career paid well and had the added bonus of taking him away from the surroundings that conjured up painful memories of a great family life gone very bad. The void his dead wife, missing children and grandchildren had created in his life was now left far behind as he headed out over the road each week

One hand slipped under the silky cover and flipped it off his entire body with one quick swoosh. Now trying to break the depressing obsessive mindset he had just fallen under, Shane spun to drop his feet to the floor, where his household flip-flops had parked last night. Within moments, he was pushing the start button on the microwave and watching his bowl of oatmeal turning slowly in an uncentered circle.

While spooning in the tasteless but healthy mush, Shane tapped into his phone all the necessary info to plan out the load trip he would be running shortly. As he was in the process of selecting which route he would take to Atlanta, the first few words of the first line of a message from one of his driver friends appeared at the top of the screen.

‘Have you seen the news this mor…’

Shane took Rob’s news alerts with a grain of salt. There was no doubt that Rob LOVED scooping his friends when it came to current events. Rob was a ‘single’ trucker as well and could talk your ear off if you’d let him. Only problem was, Rob enjoyed relaying tales of his sexual antics with South American women and that was the last thing on earth Shane wanted to talk about.

After rinsing the residual oatmeal from the bowl, Shane slipped it into the dishwasher. He started to walk away but decided instead to go ahead and run a cycle. Any remaining oatmeal would require a chisel to remove it if he left that bowl sit there for the week he would be out on the road. A dish soap pod and a simple push of a button would elude oatmeal cement. Just do it, he thought to himself.

 A pre-trip shower was next on the agenda. This was one of those ‘must do’ items, no matter how recently he had previously bathed. Quite frequently, he would go days without being able to land at a truck stop with free showers or with showers at all. Hence, the ‘departing bath’ delayed his smell factor by several days. Shane stripped down as he walked through his bedroom towards the master bath, tossing clothing onto the now made-up bed.

Just as he was about to step into the stall, the ringtone on his phone shouted from a room away. Shane rolled his eyes knowing who it was. If Rob didn’t get a reply text expediently enough for his taste, he would call you to make sure you did in fact receive his news flash. Shane did actually rush to snatch it up though, before it turned into a sour, pissed off sounding voicemail from Rob. All in one orchestrated movement, his finger slid over the lit screen and the phone bumped his right ear.

“What’s up?” Shane asked with gilded exasperation.

“Did you get my text a little bit ago?” Rob interrogated.

“Yes. But I wasn’t in a position to text back. What’s up?”

“You can’t make this shit up. Our phony President has actually signed an executive order for a mandatory gun by-back program on anything that holds more than… get this… 3 rounds!?!” Rob informed emphatically. “I mean only bolt action rifles hold 3 rounds. And all assault style rifles must go” Shane had sunk on to the edge of the bed as all this hit him. He glanced at his AR gun case leaning against the wall near the corner. Questions and ideas began to flood his mind.

“So wait… you’re saying that I will have to sell my AR to the government??” Shane queried with obvious incredulity.

“You got it bud” Rob affirmed. “You might want to sleep with it tonight. Ya know… kind of a final hug.” He laughed. “And that isn’t the only thing igniting this whole mess. He’s just promised to start tearing down the wall along the border and said anyone who wants to come to the U.S. will be welcome.”

“I hope you don’t take this wrong, but that’s not funny. This is serious.” Shane said distantly as he stared at nothing and his mind flashed images of people rising up to fight. “Brayden is going to start a civil war. And those illegals, they’re going to be part of his anti-right-wing army. He’s nuts”

“Uh Shane… that’s not news!” Rob laughed out.” After what felt like more than a minute or two and no response from Shane, Rob inquired. “You still there? Shane?”

“Are you watching the news this very minute?” Shane finally answered.

“No. Why?”

“He HAS started a Civil War.”

“WHAT? Are you serious? Where?” Again nothing from Shane for a moment or two. Rob was equally as quiet as he scanned the internet for the news that Shane had just revealed to him. Eventually from Rob’s end of the phone came “Holy…., it has finally happened”

“Yes it has. And I’m not going to just sit here and wait for a bunch of looney Leftists to come knocking on my door.” Shane exclaimed with urgency threaded through his comment. “In fact, I’m not even going to take off with this load I was just assigned”

“I don’t think your employer will like that Bud” Rob reminded his friend. “I guess if you call in sick. But something tells me they’re going to get a shitload of those calls today. I guess what I’m saying is… they’re going to know what you’re up to”

“So. Who cares?” Shane said succinctly. “Listen Rob… you think what you want about this situation. But I’m telling you that within less than a month, you’re going to have to decide two things. First, what side of this you’re going to be on and second, whether or not you’re willing to fight for that side”

“Shane, Shane…stop.” Rob interrupted his friend in case he was going to go any further with his lecture on Civil War commitment. “You know I’m nowhere near as committed or involved in all this as you are. I want things to just be back to normal. I want to wake up, go to work, come home, eat, sleep, and repeat”

“Listen to yourself!” Shane immediately shouted back. “Do you actually think I don’t want those same things? We have a problem though Rob. The idiots in charge don’t want to just leave things alone. They do not want people like you and me to just peacefully exist. We either conform to their way of thinking or we’re toast. Thereby, WE THE PEOPLE have to do something about it” This was met with yet another silent spell before Rob responded.

“Look Shane, we’re not all warriors. Some of us just don’t have the spine for picking up a gun and heading off to fight” he stated with feeling welling up in his words. “For you, this triggers a ‘fight back’ reflex. For me, it triggers fear.”

“Just what are you thinking I’m going to do Rob? Huh? What?” Shane paused what he was doing to ask this and remained perfectly still waiting for the answer. Even Rob himself had to think about that for a moment or two. He swallowed and then took a breath.

“Well…. I guess I’m thinking… you’re headed to D.C. with 1000’s of others to attack the White House” Rob said nervously. Shane shook his head on the other end of the conversation.

“Nope. Wrongo Pal” Shane responded. “Pretty much just the opposite. I’m heading into the wilderness to live outside Brayden’s stupid regime. From this moment on, I’m a renegade. A nomad. An outcast. An MIA. Get the picture?”

“I don’t get it. How does that help? How does that do anything to stop this?” Rob questioned with a touch of anger in his voice. “And why is that any different than me just going on with life?”

“You aren’t listening to me Rob” Shane stated with taut lips and nearly gritted teeth. “I will be attempting to maintain my freedom. Retaining my 2nd Amendment allowed weapons. You… you will surrender yours. Then you will surrender other freedoms as the new Mexican-American army parades up to your door one day.