DEFEND THE HOMESTEAD
A Powerless World Book Three
Jack Hunt
Direct Response Publishing
Copyright © 2021 by Jack Hunt
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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DEFEND THE HOMESTEAD: A Powerless World Book Three is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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A Powerless World series
Escape the Breakdown
Survive the Lawless
Defend the Homestead
Outlaws of the Midwest series
Chaos Erupts
Panic Ensues
Havoc Endures
The Cyber Apocalypse series
As Our World Ends
As Our World Falls
As Our World Burns
The Agora Virus series
Phobia
Anxiety
Strain
The War Buds series
War Buds 1
War Buds 2
War Buds 3
Camp Zero series
State of Panic
State of Shock
State of Decay
Renegades series
The Renegades
The Renegades Book 2: Aftermath
The Renegades Book 3: Fortress
The Renegades Book 4: Colony
The Renegades Book 5: United
The Wild Ones Duology
The Wild Ones Book 1
The Wild Ones Book 2
The EMP Survival series
Days of Panic
Days of Chaos
Days of Danger
Days of Terror
Against All Odds Duology
As We Fall
As We Break
The Amygdala Syndrome Duology
Unstable
Unhinged
Survival Rules series
Rules of Survival
Rules of Conflict
Rules of Darkness
Rules of Engagement
Lone Survivor series
All That Remains
All That Survives
All That Escapes
All That Rises
Mavericks series
Mavericks: Hunters Moon
Time Agents series
Killing Time
Single Novels
Blackout
Defiant
Darkest Hour
Final Impact
The Year Without Summer
The Last Storm
The Last Magician
The Lookout
Class of 1989
Out of the Wild
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
A Plea
Readers Team
About the Author
Prologue
Humboldt County, California
Four days before the event
The night Ryland Strickland chewed on a bullet, he was happier than a bird with a French fry. The cannabis farmer who’d embodied the outlaw culture of Humboldt County had scored his biggest payday on the black market since he’d gotten into the industry. Deep in the hills of Humboldt, inside a cabin nestled among the giant redwoods, he did a jig around a mahogany table; a joint in one hand, a full bottle of Dom Pérignon in the other. He uncorked it and set it down, lit two candles, and considered his fortune.
Buried on his property inside steel ammo containers were hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Illegally earned. Pure profit. All stashed away for his retirement.
It wouldn’t be long now and he could turn his back on it all.
It was moments like these he was glad he hadn’t toed the line. He’d seen the abatement letters; the notices of violation posted on farmers’ gates. They were hilarious. Permits? Who needed those? That was for the chumps scared of the government, the fools who wanted to play the legal game, and those not smart enough to know how to hide crops. Not him. Oh no, he’d tasted the better life, and it was a hell of a lot sweeter than the scraps the county wanted to toss him.
Regulations, rules, endless fees. Who were they kidding? He’d seen farmers try to go the honest route only to stumble in the process. The red tape, the hurdles, and the cost of going legal was killing the cannabis market. It had unfolded like an apocalypse, quickly destroying livelihoods, forcing thousands of growers out of business, and sending many underground. Lots of families had fled the area, leaving behind abandoned homesteads. Nothing more than shacks that once held the hopes and dreams of hard-working people. The brave few, bold enough to man up and deal in the black market, vanished into the hills, settling on smaller plots and keeping their mouth shut.
And who could blame them? The county rubbed fingers together in front of their faces, knowing full well that most couldn’t run a business under their tight regulations. They wanted sales tax before a grow, after a grow, and then if that wasn’t enough, after a sale. Were they insane? That didn’t include all the other ongoing costs, penalties, fines, and fees. It was a joke. And these suits had the nerve to call them criminals?
Ryland crossed to a mirror and buttoned up his plaid shirt, angled his clean-shaven jaw, and patted a few dabs of spicy cologne on each cheek. He ran fingers through his wavy brown hair, checking that all the hair dye had covered the gray patches at his temples. In his early sixties, he was still in shape barring a small belly that pushed at his waistband.
But that was a sign of good living. A living that he’d gained from turning up a middle finger to the man. To a government that didn’t care about their lives or morals.
No, the rule makers were hypocrites. The whole damn lot of them.
They imprisoned them when it was illegal to grow — but oh, now the idiots had come to their senses and deemed it legal, they wanted the lion’s share of profits or would imprison them if they didn’t play by their rules? How was that fair?
Screw their rules and screw them.
His kin hadn’t lasted generations by paying a middleman.
And definitely not by bending the knee to
