The Green Rising

Chapter Thirty-eight

“Drop your weapons or we’ll shoot,” the tall man in the center of the line said as I heard the unison clicks of bullets cocking into place.

I tightened my grip on the pistol then released it, pulling empty hands out of my coat and holding them up in surrender. “No weapons. I’ve come to turn myself in.”

The man scoffed. He said something to his cohorts, but it was unintelligible to me, thirty feet away from them. They all began to laugh. The leader reached into the side pocket of his navy parka and retrieved a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, the men somehow finding their composure. Finally, he said, “She wants to join the Greenies. What do you suppose we should do with her?”

Not one of them wore the standard garb I’d grown accustomed to seeing during the Order’s telecasts. In fact, none of them wore a speck of green. I’d bet on the wrong horse.

“I don’t want to join the Greenies. They killed my daughter and my dad last night.” My voice cracked, as tears streaked my face. “I’m Lily Clay Goodwyn. The Order has issued a bounty for my live capture. My family is my priority.”

“I don’t care if you’re Sigmund Freakin’ Dietrich.” He paused for a moment, and I decided the man had lost his mind at the suggestion that Sigmund Dietrich was alive. “He can issue edicts and claim to be president, but his words carry no power with us. I don’t trust a word that comes out of his niece’s mouth. You’re a fool if you trust any of them.”

“Sigmund Dietrich? He’s the president?” I knew from when General Bryant was murdered on television that the new president was Abi’s uncle, but this was the first time I’d heard his name. “How do you know this? I was staying in West Virginia and I don’t recall ever seeing him or hearing his name on the tv.”

All of them gaped at me, a couple rolling their eyes at my ignorance. A younger one, probably in his early teens, spoke up.

“You really haven’t seen him?” he said. I shook my head. “He’s only been on a couple of times. Heard him on the radio about an hour ago.”

I cursed myself for having been asleep when the electricity had first roared to life at the rest area. If I’d been awake, I would have a better idea of who was making the decisions. For now, a name would have to suffice.

“Thank you.” I wished they would put away their rifles. Surely they detected no threat in me. I turned my attention to the leader. “Will you allow me to pass? I hope to send Dietrich to hell right after I send his niece there.”

“I’m sorry, but no can do. Can’t risk you divulging our whereabouts.”

“I have no idea where you’re staying. Those tire tracks are more of a danger to you than I am.”

“Dad, just let her go,” the young man said to the leader.

“I can’t do that, Timmy. She’s either with us or against us. There’s no in between. Why don’t you get in the truck? You don’t need to see this again.” Timmy lowered his rifle and slinked away.

“Now, I’ll give you a choice. You can come with us willingly, or we can shoot you right here and be done with you. Either way, you won’t be heading to DC anytime soon.” He stuffed the handcuffs into his pocket, and I let out a sigh of relief at having been spared that humiliation. “What’s it gonna be?”

“I’ll go with you,” I muttered, having no desire to be detained by this group until they tired of me. Regardless, dying here would not shield my children from the tyranny brought about by the Order. It was a no-win situation.

“Take off your coat and boots,” the man ordered.

There was no use arguing, but I’m sure my expression said it all as I stepped out of the boots, and my socked feet stepped into the snow. I removed my parka and shivered as the cold set in.