Reasons to Stand

5 min
In the investigative aftermath of the president’s assassination on Tuesday, the joint FBI/Secret Service taskforce has unearthed disturbing evidence that the killer, Joshua Stevens, a long-time agent who has been assigned to the president’s protective detail for three years, had ties to an anti-government extremist group calling themselves the “New Confederacy.” It is unknown as of yet what the group’s goals were in murdering the president.

Anti-gun and anti-militia legislature to go into effect Wednesday
New legislature will go into effect this week, prohibiting gatherings of armed civilians for the purposes of training, practicing or forming a so-called “militia group.” A complementary decree will also go into effect, forbidding Americans from owning or carrying weapons, excepting specific, government mandated organizations, such as the US Armed Forces and federal and state police forces. The new bill grants the government the right to search the belongings and persons of anyone suspected of or known to own weapons, and to seize any weapons found in the course of the search. Citizens are urged to surrender their weapons at the nearest collection location. (Collection locations can be found on page 10.) In an interview yesterday, President Thomas Oliver stated his stance on the new laws. “I am in full support of our new laws. This situation has been allowed to go on for far too long. As the assassination of my predecessor shows, guns, and the people who wield them, must be given a tighter rein. I will not tolerate rebellion! The time has come for a strong hand!”

Loyal Americans mourn the loss of our president, and prepare for the war
My fellow Americans, the time has come to stand and fight. As we grieve the loss of a good man and a true leader, his vice seeks to take away our rights and freedoms. As those of you who are New Confederates know, Joshua Stevens was acting under his own volition. The New Confederacy stood behind our president. We do not stand behind Thomas Oliver, and his determination to deprive free Americans of their constitutional rights. We will not give up our weapons, or our right to meet. New Confederates, the time has come. We will not tolerate tyranny! The New Confederacy will rise! The time has come to stand and fight!
I fold the latest newspaper shut, set it on the table with the others, and glance around the house one last time before I start for my hometown. I stick to the back roads, avoiding the search points I am sure they will have set up on the highways. My hometown is deserted when I pull in, no one manning the small gas station, but there is a sign tacked to the door. “New Confederates, take what you need. All others, remember that stealing is a hanging crime around here.” I grin and pump diesel into both of my tanks. In only minutes, I am back on the road, headed for the mountains. Our local N.C. stronghold is back up in a box canyon, way up in the high country. When I reach the mouth of the canyon, two men step out to stop me, rifles across their chest. The one to the left recognizes me immediately, and waves me through. I nod to both of them and ease on up the canyon. After nearly five miles, the canyon walls fall back to either side and our stronghold opens out in front of me. The far edges of the camp are blurred by the twilight, but the nearby ranks of parked vehicles, covered with camouflage tarps, are clearly visible. I add my pickup to the ranks, leaving enough room on all sides for emergency maneuvering. I toss a tarp over the pickup after I pull my gear out, then sling my rifles over one shoulder and my bags over the other, and head into the main camp. The kid manning the check-in desk is local, a couple years older than me, and he recognizes me on sight. “Hey! Checking in?” I nod and smile back as he shuffles through the mess of papers on the desk. “What duty?” I set my gear down and stretch. “Active, field.” It takes him a moment to find the right form, and he speaks as he begins filling it out. “Sorry. We’re still trying to get organized.” I nod again. “I expect it’ll take a while.” Once all the necessary paperwork is done, I gather my gear and head for the women’s barracks. The long, low building is partitioned into two areas, one half for female troops, one half for the un-enlisted families. I set my stuff on an open bunk in the enlisted area, stash my rifles in the compartment under my mattress, and head for the family area. The next two weeks pass in a blur of training and exercises. I spend my free time with the various members of my family, enlisted and un-enlisted, that currently reside at the base, and despite the tension ratcheting up, I enjoy the time with the people I love. The occasional newcomer or runner from another base brings news of rising hysteria and the tide of public opinion wavering and unsure. Fifteen days after the gun seizure bill is passed, a runner arrives with devastating, albeit expected, news. Our acting general gathers everyone that is not currently on duty, including un-enlisted, in the mess hall. The entire crowd is silent, even the small children seeming to sense the gravity of the situation as the A.G. addresses us. “At 9:00 this morning, Thomas Oliver, acting president of the United States of America, declared war on the New Confederacy army, and all who are associated with it.” There is a low murmur at the anticipated news, but silence falls quickly, and he continues. “All enlisted personnel are now on active duty. All civilians must remain in the civilian areas – Un-enlisted quarters, mess hall, and common rooms, for your own protection. We will be having weekly drills and ensuring that everyone is aware of protocols and knows where the bunkers are. Alright, civilians are dismissed. Troops, stand by for new assignments.” My squadron is assigned to guard duty and subjected to a reminder about staying armed at all times, then we are dismissed. I return to the barracks and pull out my .06. Fully armed, I head into the un-enlisted quarters. There are several groups scattered around the room, female troops gathered with family and friends. I settle on the bed and scoop my nephew up, and my sister leans against me as I snuggle him close. One of my cousins is sitting cross-legged on the floor nearby with her two children, and she looks up at me. “So, what’s going to happen now?” I sigh and look around the group. All the adult faces are turned to me, anxiety marking the faces of the people I love. “Well, we’re going to fight. Everyone is active, and we’ll be gearing up to make a stand.” My sister-in-law Christi, sitting on the bed across from me, starts crying. I eye her warily as she speaks. “Jerry can’t go on active duty! We have kids! What if something happened to him?” Across the row of beds and a little ways down, a woman a couple of years older than me turns around to give Christi a hard look. She’s wearing fatigues, a rifle slung across her shoulder, and she’s holding a baby, probably no more than six months old. I don’t know her, although I’ve seen her in the barracks and at trainings, but pride rises in me when she stands up to face Christi, drawing the eyes of most of the room. “That’s why we have to fight.” She raises the child in her arms slightly, showing him around to the room. “I’m enlisted, and active, because I am willing to risk everything to ensure that my sons live in a free country.” A moment of silence falls, and I see Christi gathering herself to retort. I stand up before she can. “Everyone in the army is in for a reason.” I look around, meeting the eyes of several of the people around the room, including Christi and the soldier with the baby. “We’re fighting for our country. For our families, our children. For freedom. We won’t back down, can’t back down, without losing it all. It’s worth the fight, worth the risk.” A long silence falls again, then the soldier looks up at me with tears in her eyes. “Amen.”

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