Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Something Scary For Halloween

It was the Fall of 2065.  The monsoons had ended, and the terrain was dry.  Silently, two fire teams, led by Captain Matthew Falk, moved west through the Sitgreave Range toward the command post on Chevelon Bluff.  A new moon had risen in the east two hours before, and the men knew the area very well.  The bluff lay another 5 miles to the west, and they would be there before sunrise.  They had just crossed the creek, and the terrain began to rise as they moved uphill toward their goal.  They would relieve two of the teams that manned the CP.  The bluff marked the western boundary of the Arizona territory.  It offered an unobstructed view to the west, and from there they could control the choke points that offered the only access for approaching jihadi probes.  Other such compounds existed across the nation, and slowly, they would be reunited. 

Years before, the Arizona group had joined forces with the Navajo.  We had collaborated before, in the face of a different enemy.  They had lived in this terrain for millenia, and, to a man, they were warriors.  Their lands were sacred to them, and they would not tolerate the insult imposed by people who had no honor.  In the face of this threat, as before, they too were Americans.  What Captain Falk encountered as he returned through the Sitgreaves would haunt him forever….
Long before he had been born, the government had fallen into the hands of a parasitic oligarchy.  Large numbers of people had succumbed to a utopian vision fostered by people who sought this power.  At the beginning of the century, the leftists, in pursuit of their fantasies, had accepted the lies of their "leaders".  They had learned to lie to themselves, and having lost any understanding of the cost of Freedom, had surrendered the people's sovereignty to tyrants, who sought a one-world government.  This in turn had been overwhelmed by the world-wide assault of jihad.  The mullahs in the east spoke of their "caliphate" but in the decades that had passed, the jihadists knew on some deep level that that was a pretense that glorified their need to escape the trash heap that was their homeland.  But they were not victims of that trash heap, they were the source of it.  Wherever they went in the world, they brought it with them.  One thing the left never understood was that this pretense was simply a mask that hid jihadist's desire for conquest.  If a parasite destroys it's host, it too will die, but jihadists had not learned this simple truthFor now, the rule of law and the constitution had been replaced with sharia law.  After the collapse, the leftists had all seemingly vanished, leaving patriots to fight for the restoration of the nation.

Years before, Europe had drowned in a tidal wave of barbarians, who had destroyed nation after nation, a thousand years of Western culture put to the torch.  The last visible remnants of Christianity vanished after the destruction of the Vatican.  What remained of St. Peter's basilica had become a mosque.  Sharia law and the political and cultural virus that was Islam enveloped the continent, and any who did not conform had escaped, been enslaved, or put to death.  All that Europe had achieved since the beginning of the Renaissance lay in ashes.    
In America, the western part of Arizona had become an ungoverned area as large groups of jihadis moved about unchallenged.  Further west, most of California was a no mans land.  The "sanctuary cities", among the first put to the torch, were smoking ruins.   Roads were impassable, and the effectiveness of armed troops was limited to the distance they could travel on foot.   Bridges were down, and the electrical grid and data systems had ceased to exist.  Our fuel reserves had lasted a couple of years.  After that, we had no air presence.  The skies were empty.  The unchallenged incursion of Chinese forces into the Los Angeles basin would be answered in time, but this would require the restoration of our air power.  Water resources were disrupted, and there was no agricultural activity on any commercial level.  Pockets of subsistence farming were to be found, if there was any access to water…there was no such thing as gov't regulation.  Like the rest of the federal bureaucracy, the EPA had vanished when the gov't collapsed under the weight of it's own suicidal delusions.  The hordes of gangbangers that had infested the cities had little in common with the jihadists, in spite of the lofty ideals ascribed to them by the leftists.  Neither cared much for anything except gratuitous violence.  For years the streets belonged to whoever had the biggest numbers…

This is the world Captain Falk had been born into 30 years ago.  In his words, this is the report he gave the Elders when he returned from his mission….   

"it was a three day trip, on foot, from the CP back to base.  I had sent the two relieved teams ahead, and I was traveling about 8 hours behind them, moving south, off-trail, roughly following the Mogollon Rim..  Around Clear Creek I had to cross an old fire break.   The area had never been occupied.  There were occasional structures, most of which had been destroyed to deny the jihadists cover.  The area was normally patrolled heavily, and I thought it odd that I encountered no one.  As I approached the point where I would cross the break, I stopped, looking for any signs of movement.  I saw what looked like an unescorted person, standing in the middle of the fire break.  It was a woman, oddly dressed, just standing there.  I stepped, cautiously, into the open, and I was shocked to see her in the middle of the trail, not 20 feet from me.  She had somehow moved about 200 feet instantly, and she was looking right at me.  She stood there exposed in the fire break, and silently stared at me with cold, lifeless eyes.  Trying to make sense of this, I finally managed "Who are you?  "What are you doing out here?  Are you alone?"  She wouldn't answer any of my questions, instead saying "Where am I?"  "You're in the sovereign state of Arizona" I said.  "You're in a very dangerous area and you need to come with me".  I thought to myself..this is just what I need.  I'm still 20 miles from base, and here I am with some woman wearing some kind of an orange suit.  She is obviously not up to traveling in this terrain.  She looked at me with contempt in those eyes, and said "which way is east?"  I glanced to my right and said " over that ridge".  It couldn't have been more than a second, but when I looked back, she was gone."

As he explained all this to the elders, they sat silently, and listened without moving.  When he finished, they sat, frozen, and finally, glancing at each other, one of them spoke.

"That was the ghost of Hillary," he said quietly.  "Just before the onslaught of the caliphate, she had conspired with her fellow travelers to be the next president.  Like everything else she had ever done, her campaign was based on lies.  She knew that America had already been foreclosed by the slow coup d'etat that had been Obama's reign.  Shortly after, the government imploded, and she had disappeared.  Nobody ever saw her alive again.  Over the last 50 years, her spirit has been seen wandering alone.  She must spend eternity lost, wandering through the country, searching for the White House.  They say that if anybody ever asks her a question and she responds with the simple, honest truth, she will be released from this curse. 

The Captain finished his debrief, and tried to get some sleep.  The thing that struck him the most about her was the coldness in her eyes, and the imperious tone in her voice.  Lost in an unsecured wilderness, she would never understand the harm she'd done, and she would never find the White House.  In fifty years of wandering, it was clear she had learned nothing. 

Long ago, Ronald Reagan had referred to America as a "shining city on a hill".  It stood as a beacon for the world, a place that promised Freedom for any fortunate enough to make it to that shore.  That America still remained.  It was still to be found in the armed enclaves across the nation.  The hearts and souls of Capt. Falk's countrymen were committed to the restoration of America,  Generations would follow, and they would continue the fight.  Patriots understood that the fight might never be over, but as long as the grace of God shined on us, it would never be lost. 

But, as for Hillary and her fate, what difference did it make?   There was nothing any living soul could do about any of it.  It is said that to this day, on clear, moonless nights in outposts on the edge of the uncontrolled wilderness, sentries can still hear her somewhere out in the darkness, muttering to herself and cackling mindlessly… 

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