“What do you think, Jake?” I asked.
“Well, it’s hard. I’m not big on marching my family straight into the lion’s den, but we also can’t just show back up on David’s door, asking to spend a year or longer. Do we find our own place in between and start over? I just don’t know.”
“If it comes out, and it will, that we had this information and sat on it, I’m not sure what will happen,” I said.
“That’s the tricky part,” replied Jake. “Let’s get it done.”
I called Lonnie to stop for a quick meeting, thinking he might be annoyed by all the delays.
“Again?” he called back. “We just stopped!”
“I need to talk to you first,” I told him.
“Right now?”
“Yes. Right now!”
He pulled the caravan over with precision, like he had done it a hundred times before.
Jake, Vlad and I spoke with Lonnie outside the truck, away from the chatter of what may be going on.
We told him everything we knew.
“Well, that sounds about right. I was just about to pop in a cassette tape of the Allman Brothers and cruise. ‘Lord, I was born a ramblin’ man,’” he hummed nervously.
“Mike, come on up here,” Lonnie called out over the radio.
We waited a minute, not speaking before he called again.
“Mike! Are you coming?”
The radio cracked. “Hey Lonnie, it’s Sheila. Mike stepped out a few minutes ago to talk to the old man. I’ve got his radio.”
“I’ll get him,” I said. My leg felt much better now, but I was still not jumping off the trailer yet.
“Mike,” I called when I got close. “Can we talk to you up front?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, waving one arm.
“He’s coming in a minute,” I announced, not sure how much he would know when he did.
A few minutes later, Mike came up front.
“Hey guys. Nice day, don’t you think?” He pointed three fingers at us, saying, “We’ve got some decisions to make, and quick.”
Then he pointed only one finger straight at me. “Lance, you didn’t tell me about Javi’s mom.”
“Mike,” I said, looking the stone-cold killer in the eyes and trying to remain calm. “I just now found out about it, like you.”
He paused, staring a hole through me.
I wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, and my other friends weren’t helping me out any. Had I just lost every bit of trust I had built with him in two seconds?
I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.
His face finally changed, as if he snapped back into focus. “Of course, you just found out… Sorry I said that. I think I know everything you guys do,” he added, moving on as I took deep, calming breaths.
“Okay, take a look,” said Mike, using the back of one of the kids’ fliers to write. “We’re here,” he pointed. “Ronna’s over here, and the Baker guy is here with a few hundred or a thousand people. I’ll go around Ronna’s guys and get close tonight on the four-wheeler. Then I go in on foot, take care of the Baker guy, and tomorrow the rest of them all go on their merry way, back home or wherever.”
I saw several holes in the plan, but hung back from saying anything for now.
“You can’t just sneak into a camp of hundreds of people loyal to one man, with 10-15 literally guarding him at all times, and take him out,” said Lonnie. “Governments don’t even do that.”
“Let me know if you have another idea,” replied Mike.
The paper map he had drawn flew from his hand and stuck to my shirt. We all looked down and saw the upside-down FEMA map with “Drawn by Jax” at the bottom.
“We’re right here,” I said, looking at Vlad and Mike, initially pointing two fingers towards them before rethinking it. “Listen, guys, it’s a Hail Mary, I know, but maybe the Colonel can help, or at least confirm it’s a suicide mission to continue on.”
“Agreed,” said Vlad quickly, and Mike nodded.
We got the rest of the group on board with the idea. There was only one question from Lonnie’s wife.
“If we pull right up to the front gates of the FEMA Camp, won’t they just force us to go in?”
“That’s a good question,” I responded, “and certainly valid. However, the answer is a resounding no. We’re free thinkers, and that’s the last thing they want inside their walls. I’ll bet the Colonel would be right here with us if he were a civilian. Understand?”
“No, not really,” she replied, standing her ground.
“Okay, it’s like this. Who here has seen a hypnotist show? Please raise your hands.”
I felt like I was back at my Chiropractic office, giving a similar speech on the very first day everything changed.
“All right, I see most of you have seen one. Raise your hand if you think the hypnotist will ask for volunteers?”
Most hands raised.
“Okay, now why is that?”
“They want to be hypnotized, I guess,” said Lucy.
“Exactly,” I told her. “They want to be controlled. That’s why they never pick somebody who doesn’t raise their hand. If you’re running a FEMA Camp, would you rather get someone like our new friend back there who is out of luck, tired, and looking for a safe place to lay his head? He’s a yes-man who will toe the line and be grateful for a full stomach. Or would you rather have somebody like Nancy or Joy, who would be dragged in kicking and hollering, only to raise hell once inside? No, you would
