Obamica - America's Apocalypse, Now. Hellfire Meets Resistance and the Revolution is Born.

^{Chapter Four in the ongoing fictional account of America's decent into Hell under the current administration.}

Having just begged the good Lord for courage,my eyes are glued to the monitors. I have a gun right here by the computer. It’s loaded. I hoped when I placed it there to never have to use it. As I take hold of it It feels cold and heavy as the grave. They are headed straight for me though they don’t even know I’m here. It looks like I don’t have to worry about breaking my vow. I swore to my dear David, on the Bible, not to go outside. I don’t think going above, but staying in the abandoned shack that covers the entrance to down here, matters since it’s not technically outside. A strange resolve has settled on me. I won’t let them hurt that little girl. The closer they get the calmer I get. I have been so terrified, so upset, and now all of a sudden, I’m in the zone. There are no thoughts, no feelings, no nothing but resolve... and the girl. Silently, so as not to awake my sleeping baby on the couch, I move towards the trap door going up.

“Daniel. Wake up, son.”
Daniel roused from sleep. The skinny old man was awake. It was dim in the cave but he could see the man sitting up right beside him.
“You OK, son?”
“I’m…” Daniel cut off as dry coughs rasped his little body.
The old man waited.
Finally, wiping his mouth, “I’m OK. I fell asleep. My throat hurts. I’m awful thirsty.”
“Well, then why didn’t you get some water? I thought I told you before I passed out there’s some in the backpack over there.”
“Yes, sir. But that’s yours. I don’t steal.”
“No, son. No sir, you sure don’t. Now, look here. I told you it was there so you would get some when you needed it. This leg of mine is hurting something fierce so your going to have to get up and get it yourself.”
“Yes, sir.” Daniel practically sprinted the fifteen feet or so to the backpack he had dropped at the front entrance of the cave right after they made it inside. Daniel thought that was some time yesterday.
The old man seemed to groan at the same time he chuckled.

To David it seemed like that boy was opening a present on Christmas morning the way he tore into the pack. He slugged back half the bottle in one gulp. That poor boy, what he must have been through David could not help wondering. He thought when he met up with the boy it was more than just fear of being caught by the Protection Troopers. The boy’s eyes looked like they had been around a lot longer than his short life. Eyes didn’t look that way over just a fright.

Had it only been two? God, how he hoped so. He was going to get moving soon. He had to. But he was going to make sure that boy could make it with him and not only because the boy had saved his life.

David had been hiding up a tree at what he thought was a safe distance from the house when the Protection Troopers surrounded it. He had to be that close to set off the chain reaction that would blow it up. He had left his wife underground much further out in the country. Thank the man upstairs she had nagged him unmercifully to get that place last year. They both had seen this coming but he thought they would have more time. He had carefully run all the wires and buried them under the dust leading up to four different sets of mixed chemicals that would turn the home he loved into so much rubble. The remote detonator device would only work from a certain distance. He should have got something better, he thought in hindsight, but it would have to do. This kind of mess wasn't easy to get and he had not made blowing stuff up his life’s work.

He thought it was a time when everyone, including himself, was far enough away that no one would get hurt. The idea had been to make it look like the almost empty propane tank had exploded and took the house out too. Evidently he had overestimated the amount of chemicals needed because the explosion shook the ground and sent debris flying everywhere including right through his leg.
Only once before did he ever remember feeling such pain. He thought he was going to pass out right there in a tree of all places. Somehow he hung on for hours while the troopers and then the news crews crawled over his land. All he could do was watch. And pray.

“Dear God, please don’t let her be dumb enough to come after me. You know how she is. Please. Oh, God please let me just get back to her.”

When nightfall finally came and everyone was gone, he tried to climb down. He ended up falling the last few feet landing flat on his back sending fresh lightening bolts of pain shooting down his leg. He had bound the wound with a strip torn from his shirt but it started spewing blood again. He didn't know how long it was he laid there before he was able to half crawl, half drag himself to the truck he had hid in the trees off the dirt road not too far away.

When he was finally able to get in and get the old ragged truck started, he kept to the dirt roads with the headlights off. He thought it would be safer than the more traveled roads even if it took longer. He figured the Protection Troopers might be watching. He knew they had intended on rounding up several people in the surrounding towns other than he and his wife. The scanner his best friend Mike had given him had come in very handy for finding out information.

“Damn,” he thought to himself. “She’s got a big mouth. I told her all that writing about the evil government on that crazy Hubpages site was going to come back and bite her in the ass. Well, looks like she was right though.” he said aloud to himself in the truck as he crept along in the night. “Better not ever let her hear me say that. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

David had lost a good bit of blood he figured from the way he was feeling sick and dizzy. Now that he was seated, the pain had regressed to a dull roar but he thought that was as much from shock as anything. He had been hurt enough times in his life to recognize when he was in trouble and he surely knew he was now. So lost he was in his thoughts, he barely saw the boy in time to slam on the breaks before hitting him in the middle of the road like some wild animal. The boy just stood there. David called out the window to him asking if he was OK. The boy didn’t even blink. Painfully, he managed to get out the truck and hop on his good leg to the boy. There wasn’t three inches between the little fellow and the truck’s front bumper. The child still had not moved.

David barely remember nudging the boy to get in. He didn't really remember driving to where he dumped the truck in the lake at all. But the strangling pain he felt as he and the boy made it to the small cave not far away was still vivid in his mind. They were on David’s land now and he knew it like the back of his hand having scouted every square inch of the 32 acres over the last year. He knew there was no way he could make it all the way to the shack over the bunker without a rest. Even with the boy carrying the emergency backpack Rhonda had insisted he take with him, and half supporting him all the way there, it had to have been the work of God they made it to the cave.

“Bring me some of that and the pack too, will you? We got to get moving here in just a minute, son. Time’s running out if I know my wife.” He prayed it had not already run out. She had a nasty habit of doing stupid things when she was worried about him and he was way late as it was.

I could hear voices as I eased up the trap door from beneath.

“Move it you little sl_t. I’m sick of half dragging your ass.” The voices were faint enough I could tell they were still a good twenty feet from the all but falling down old shack that surrounded me now.

Actually, the shack is more sturdy than it looks… at least back here where I am. David was truly clever when he wanted to be. He had built a false wall out of old weathered boards he had roughed up even more to hide the door and even glued, somehow, a dirt covering over that. The wall was sturdy but it sure didn't look it. It went almost the full width of the shack. Just a few feet in front of it was another just like it going from the other side almost all the way over. He had strung up fake cobwebs so artfully, that between them and the natural dark in the place, you wouldn't even notice unless you were really looking hard, with a flashlight. The boards were placed in such a way that you could see out at places and they had what he called “gun slots” in them too. I never wanted to have to use one of those. Now, as I rounded the corner to the front most fake wall, I eased the barrel through one of them aiming it right at the front entrance. My breathing was steady. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I could actually hear their footfalls, smell the dust all around me.

“Daniel, we have to get moving.”
“Where are we going, sir?”
“You don’t have to call me sir all the time. I wouldn't have made it here without being able to lean on you, son. You can call me by my name.”
Daniel almost smiled, “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know your name. You never told me. Or, I forgot.”
David shook his head. “I probably didn't. I’ve been kind of out of it. I’m David. David Enrayne. I‘m going home and your coming with me.”
“Yes, sir, er, I mean Mr. Enrayne.”
“Mr. Enrayne was my father, Daniel. Seeing how you saved my life, call me David.”
“My father taught me to always call my elders sir or ma’am.” Daniel’s breathing became ragged. David figured he was fighting back tears but he couldn't really see well enough to visually confirm it. Somehow, he knew it was true. He waited a minute before asking where Daniel’s father was.
“He’s with God.”
The boy sounded like he was a hundred years old when he said that. David felt a cold chill go up his spine. He knew then that must have been what set the boy on the journey that had crossed their paths.
Out of respect he waited another minute before telling the boy they had to go, now. He wished he could have given the boy more time, let him talk out what had happened. But, he was feeling an ever increasing sense of urgency. He had to get home. He had to go now.

In another small Texas town, on a stretch of what could barely be called a dirt road...

Donna looked at her mother again and wondered just how long she could wait. Carol was over two hours late. They had agreed to meet here. Carol and her daughter, Kelly would meet up with Donna, her mom, and the four boys hiding in the back of the truck kept out of sight by the camper, one of whom was Carol‘s oldest boy. They were all to meet up with the rest of the small congregation out in the hills. The men had gone ahead to make everything safe. They expected them to be there soon. There was no way they were going to make it on time.

Where was Carol? They had been friends for years. She was never late. She hated to be late. Donna sent up a prayer for Carol and Kelly and determined to leave soon. She had no choice. Those boys and her mother were depending on her to get them to safety. None of them had the bar-code.

Donna had managed to get away without having it for so long because she had lucked into a pad of doctor's notes and very cleverly forged them. It was the first thing she had ever lifted out of a dumpster in her life. Carol had come up with the idea. She knew a doctor that was retiring due to stress. His office was being cleaned out, so she took a chance and dumpster dived for good. They still had a week before the mandatory arrests for the not marked. People all over the country had taken to harming those who were unmarked regardless. In today's Obamica, unmarked meant less than human with no rights at all.

Carol was a genius. She had thought up the idea of a serious allergic condition that would require Donna and her mother to be marked only in a hospital in case of a reaction. A doctor might not buy it, but most people would. That idea, the back log and overcrowding at all hospitals, and the fake note had bought Donna and 8 others some time and a viable excuse for anyone that snooped. It showed her appointment as being scheduled for marking at 9:00 sharp two days from now.

She reminded herself while it might buy her and her mother some time, nothing would save the boys if they were discovered. Most school age children not having medical conditions necessitating a hospital marking already had it. Schools were one of the first places where they were given. The pad only contained nine sheets. She had given them to the adults she trusted most from the tight knit church, after, of course, giving one to her mother.

She was pulled out of her thoughts as a small, beat up old Pinto’s engine whined as it pulled up and stopped right beside her. Carol got out looking ten years older than she did last night. She hopped in and burst into tears. Donna said as kindly as she could, “Tell me on the way. We have to get going.”

As Donna drove, slowly but surely towards the Texas hill country, Carol related the morning’s events. Her voice broke as she told of two men making off with Kelly when they had stopped to get supplies. Carol was a wreck. Who wouldn't be? The local police made out a report and said they would get back to her. She wanted to stay and wait for them to find Kelly. She wanted to go after the men. She couldn't do either with her son in the camper and no way to know where the men had gone. So, in desperation she came to where she was supposed to be, to her friend and her family in Christ. Maybe together they could all find a way to get Kelly back.

“Dear God, watch over her. She’s just a baby.” Carol moaned through sobs as she was held by Donna’s own elderly mother. The older woman had tears in her eyes as she tried to sooth Carol. Donna determined they would all make it to safety come Hell or high water. Her best friend in the world had been through God only knew what this morning over her daughter. She wasn't about to see her lose her son too.

Laying on their bellies, side by side in the truck bed, with a laptop each, covered by the camper so no one could see them, the boys were busy being boys. John, Mathew, Mark and Luke had grown up together. The three older boys had always looked after Luke. Luke was born autistic. He didn’t like to be around most people and usually refused to speak altogether, but he trusted the three older boys. Every day they all got together to play on their computers. As they grew, their computer skills became so good they could rival most adult programmers and hackers. They had a secret weapon. Luke. Luke’s brain did not function like theirs. He was literally a walking human calculator. He couldn't tie his shoe some days, but he could do three page long equations in his head. He was never wrong and he dearly loved hacking.

They boys had been working for weeks to find a way to get past the government tracking software. Luke had finally come up with a mutating alga rhythm that would allow them to not only easily blow by any tracking software, but better yet, it would allow them to tap into the government’s own systems. They could post whatever they wanted onto any and every site they wanted, whenever they wanted. They had decided to become the voice of the people.

They made a pact not to tell anyone. If the adults found out, they would try to stop them thinking it wouldn't be safe. They never gave the boys enough credit for their skills, thinking them still boys, not seeing how grown up they were. They were teenagers for goodness sakes!

As Donna drove, they initiated the sequence that would post their first message to the world. Luke’s final stroke of genius, so far, would make it look like it came from a White house ISP address to anyone checking. Man, how they had laughed over that one. The message would appear to anyone online regardless of them liking it or not, just like the Emperor's did.

In Christ, all things are possible.

The Devil is here. The beast stalks the world. Your so called Emperor is his tool. The bar code is the mark of the beast. Anyone who takes it will go to Hell. Get right with God, now.
For all of our Christian family, hang in there. We are developing a network for us, God’s children. Follow this link and complete the form. We will contact you. Have faith in God. The link is safe. The same programming that allows us to do this will protect you too. We will connect you with your brothers and sisters in Christ. We must help each other now.
We know you must be scared. Don’t be.

“… though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”
Pray. God will lead you.

In Christ, all things are possible.

^{To be continued...}

^{Disclaimer: The story above is fiction. It uses current social and political conditions but still is fiction. I am not saying this will happen or any of the key players are actually as portrayed.}

Come on in! Everyone is welcome. The more the merrier I always say.

Would you like to become a character? If you want to party down with the rest of us, please, fire off an email or just say so in comments.

Thanks big time to those brave hubbers who have courageously volunteered so far. All you have to do to join their ranks is just say you want to. While everyone is welcome, I can only include people over 18 years of age as characters. No offense to you younger guys and gals, but I don't want to be sued by your parents. Still, your welcome to shake a tail feather while your here!

Thank you to the cast of characters we have met so far.

Wayne Brown

WesMan Todd Shaw

Jim Bryan

SubRon7

Donna Cosmato

The quill is out of ink, but I will be quick to reload.

How long do you think you will have an abode?

America is losing the God given right to free will.

The next chapter yet flows from the poet's quill.

Many say the battle to save America will start at the voting booths in November. I contend it is already underway. We are losing. Our freedoms are shrinking everyday, being strangled by legislation, by politically correct ideology, by overt and covert programming from the media systems we are inundated with daily, and by the division that is driving us to fight each other instead of those promoting it.

You can not trust what you hear on TV. You can not trust what you read in the news. If you are smart, don’t trust anything but your own God given common sense. Research what has been done, not what our leaders say. Don’t trust to just one or even ten sources. Am I saying you need to do a whole heck of a lot of research? Yes. Indeed, I am.

This is not limited to America. Freedom and the right to decide for yourself what you think, what you buy, who gets your money, what you say, what you eat, what you do with your own property, how you raise your children, any freedom you can think of and many you most likely can’t because the list is just too long are being devoured by a real, global beast set on controlling us all. Do you trust that beast to not come after you? Do you think it will only go for others? Can you honestly say you don’t see it? I know it’s painful and scary to think about. If we don’t stand up now, hard and firm, any shot we ever had at remaining free is done for and our children will exist as slaves to a global government, if they exist at all.

• The national debt 15 trillion-(proposed new ceiling- 21 trillion)

• Unemployment 8.5% That is a kind estimate.
• Inflation
• Gas prices
• Division
• Crime
• Taxes
• Natural disasters
• Debilitating illness
• Developmental disabilities
• Scandals at the top echelon of power
• Lobbyist influence
• Political corruption
• Corporate control
• Health care costs

***********The last few grains of sand in the hour glass are falling now.***********