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Chapter Nineteen

Spring, 2026

The Catskills Mountains

          Twelve years had come and gone. The clan had migrated farther north, growing with each passing day. They attempted to farm the fertile valleys of upstate New York, but were constantly hunted by search and destroy teams.

     Realizing that they were too exposed, Omar led his people into the mountains. Taking advantage of the terrain, the clan evolved new tactics that helped them to fight New America to a standstill.  Spreading themselves throughout the hills they formed a federation of clans, separate fingers sometimes coming together to wield a powerful sword.

    Jason dashed for home, weighed down by a heavy heart and his fractured pride. The chorus of name-calling chased him up a narrow earth-worn path. Valora, tending to her garden, witnessing her son’s distress, dropped her hoe and intercepted him before he reached the hut.

    

     “Jason, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice concerned. Jason didn’t answer, instead, hurried past her into the hut. She waited a bit and casually followed him in. What they called home was nothing more than simple hut, but clean and practically arranged with the essentials.

    

      “Son, do you want to talk about it?”  Jason was sitting upright on his palette beneath the window, his legs crossed in yoga fashion, twiddling his thumbs. “You know, they don’t mean what they say, Jason. They don’t mean to hurt you.”

    

      “Then, why do they say such mean things, Mother?” Jason asked looking up, his cheeks soaked, and his eye brimming with tears. “They ask me to do magic, and when I can’t they call me names. They say that I’m a freak and they call me ‘devil boy’.”

    

     “Oh, no baby, you’re not a freak,” Valora said, joining him on the pallet. “It’s just, well, they’re young and do not understand your special gifts.”

    

      “It’s the older ones too. They act like they’re at prayer service whenever I’m around. They treat me different than they do the other children. Why, mother? Why can’t I be like everyone else?” Valora was set to respond when she heard footsteps.

      “Auntie Dee,” Jason shouted as he ran up and threw his arms around her. “Tell me the story again of how you outsmarted those dumb old New Americans to get back to us.”

     

     “Chipmunk, you’ve heard that story a thousand times. I should think you’d be sick to death of hearing it by now.”

    

      “Oh, no, I never get tired of hearing it. Mother is always telling me how you helped father start the clan and how you never left her side when she was pregnant with me.”

     

     Dee turned to Valora, cocking her head slightly and faking consternation. “You talk too much,” Dee admonished Valora before bellowing out a hearty laugh. Jason watched as Dee limped over to the ring of cushions in the center of the hut.

     Dee had rejoined the clan after almost a year. The entire diversion team was killed the day of the move, except her. She was wounded and near death, but somehow managed to make it to the basement of the Schomburg, where she hid until she was able to walk. Perhaps hobble would be more accurate.

     It would be three months before she was able to start north in search of the clan. All roads north were, by then, patrolled by raiders and monitored by aerial drones. It would take six more months and a score of dead raiders before she miraculously rejoined the clan. But, she never regained the full use of her leg.

   “Try some of this tea,” Valora demanded. “It’s made with sassafras root and honey.” With Jason’s help, Dee unloaded her pack. Laying her oak staff next to her, Dee lowered herself to the exotic array of throw pillows, arranging them to suit her. The two women continued to make small talk as Jason looked on. However, he knew it wouldn’t be long before his mother gave him the make-yourself-scarce look. He decided that if he were going to ask, now was the best time.

     “Mother, I want to go with Sean. He’s going fishing on the other side of the mountain and he promised to take me with him.”

     “Absolutely not, Jason, your father is expecting you to go with him; he’ll be disappointed if you’re not here when he arrives.” 

      “But, Mother, I don’t like hunting, and besides I’m no good at it.”

     “Your father rarely has time to spend with us these days with the clan growing as it is. I think it would be good for my two men to spend some time together, alone.” 

       “Mother, I don’t want to be a warrior like father. After all, haven’t we been fighting our enemies for twelve years? We are no closer to peace than when we started,” Jason voiced confidently.

       A scornful look on Valora’s face replaced one of mild vexation. “Jason, your father carries an enormous burden. The entire clan looks to him. If he hadn’t moved us here to the Catskills, we would all have been captured or worse!” 

      “I know, mother, but can I please go fishing with Sean.”

      “Your father will be disappointed, Jason.”

     “Pleeeeeease, mother, may I.” Valora stood stoned-faced, giving him a long look.

      “Valora, let the boy go fishing,” Dee grumbled. Jason nodded his head in agreement. “While I will admit that that Sean is some piece of work, he’s harmless enough. And, as far as the ‘general’ is concerned, he knows that the boy can’t stay cooped up around here all day waiting for him to return.

     “Cook the ‘general’ one of you venison specialties. That should help you break the news to him. It’s the second best way to a man’s heart,” Dee said, as she fought to keep a serious face. But, she couldn’t contain herself and burst into an uproarious laugh. Valora soon joined her, and then Jason, though he didn’t get the joke. 

      Valora back turned to Jason, her laugh coming to a grinding halt. Valora finally caved.” Just make sure you keep your eyes open for raiders. Oh, and be back before dark.” In one long, perpetual motion, Jason hugged both women, grabbed up his pole from beside his cot, and flashed out the door.

       Jason was half way down the trail when he remembered that he was going to need earthworms. It was just his luck that he had spied some night crawlers that very morning sprouting through the surface of their earthen abode. He was soon squatting down behind the hut and plucking them from the earth and stuffing them into his pocket.

      He paid little notice to the voices sifting through the thin wall behind him, until he heard his name mentioned. His hand froze in midair, the night crawler wiggling at the end of his fingers.

      “Valora you know what he is and what he is destined to become. You’re only deluding yourself if you think otherwise. You should tell him everything.”

      “Dee, I love you like a sister, and God knows, the boy worships the ground that you walk on. Since the death of my mother, you have been there for all of us. Nonetheless, you are not his mother. Contrary to popular opinion, I think that I know what’s best for my son. So, let’s drop it. Drink your tea!”

       “Valora, do you remember the day you joined the clan?”

       “How can I forget?”

       “You asked me about my connection to Omar.” Valora was listening as she stacked the bowls from breakfast. “I promised to one day tell you.”

       “I figured you’d get around to telling me one day,” replied Valora. “That’s why I never probed.”

       “Well, today is that day. C’mon, take a load off” Dee insisted, patting the pillow next to her. You may even learn something about Jason. Valora grabbed a cup of tea and came over and sat down beside her good friend.

       “About a year before you and I met, I was on the 155^th Street Bridge about to jump when Omar came along and risked his life pulling me back over the railing. He took me back to the hospital, and slowly helped me to restore my will to live.

        “Not once did he ask me why I wanted to kill myself. He must have assumed that my action was caused by the collapse. The bridge was getting a lot of use in those days. But, the collapse itself wasn’t the cause of my grief. The truth is that in some way I felt that I had helped to bring it about.” 

         Valora intrigued, set her mug down and stared, intently.

      “You see, before all of this I was studying law at NYU.” Valora’s eyes widened. “It didn’t last long. To satisfy my worthless husband’s need for a full-time wife, I dropped out. Only to find out two months later that he was cheating on me with a close friend all the while. We soon divorced. Without a job and neck deep in bills, returning to law school wasn’t an option.

      “So, I decided to give the NYPD a shot. In less than two years, I made detective first grade, the first of my graduating class to do so. I was soon assigned a partner, Tony Rossi, an up-and-coming narcotics detective who was caught on radio using the N-word to describe people of color. Somehow it was leaked to the press and the community called for his head. For his sins, he was transferred to homicide.

      “One day we were assigned to investigate the hit-and-run of an executive in the underground parking area down on Rector and Wall Street. At first, it looked like a simple hit and run. But, over the next few weeks, we uncovered evidence that suggested a professional hit.

      “After weeks of chasing down the flimsiest of leads, Tony cashed in on a few favors. His contacts had access to some offshore accounts. From there, we followed the money. Our investigation revealed that the victim, Mr. Wolcott, had stumbled on to files that proved his firm’s, Eastern Securities, involvement in an elaborate scheme to undermine the dollar’s position in the global market and to cause a financial meltdown. He and his partner, an old college acquaintance, were killed when they tried to cash in on their find.

      “It would seem that Wolcott and accomplice were a couple of insider traders. But, this time they got in way over their heads. Tony, against better judgment, continued to dig deeper. He was obsessed. What he uncovered should have stayed buried. I remember the night he approached me like it was yesterday.

      “Afraid to talk at the station, he had me meet him at a small bistro down in Greenwich Village. While on the surface, it seemed that the plot was hatched by eco-terrorists; in reality they were simply pawns in a conspiracy as old as civilization itself. He unveiled a hidden hand, a secret society. In some circles it’s referred to as the Illuminati. Everyone considers it a myth. But, Tony obtained proof to the contrary.

      “The shadow organization had amassed such power and wealth that even nations were but servants in their global schemes.  And, they were prepared to protect their secrecy at all cost.”

     “Dee, you said that I would learn something about Jason,” Valora asked.

     “I getting to that,” replied Dee before continuing on. “The Illuminati, in its hydra of forms, is dedicated to the destruction of national governments the world over. For centuries, they have been at work behind the scenes. The goal of this dark order has never changed. It is to bring about a one-world government, ushering in an epoch of unprecedented global destruction and suffering. Having achieved their goal, it is their belief that the Antichrist will rise from the depths of hell, and rule the earth from a throne atop a mountain of human misery.

     “The next day, my partner was found dead, shot once in the head. When they found him, his eyes, ears, and tongue were removed.” Dee paused, waiting for a response. 

    Valora, rose from her seat, glanced out the door then back at Dee.  “You have never given me a reason to doubt your word. That coupled with the things that I have seen with my own eyes compels me to believe your story. But, I don’t see the connection between those events and my Jason.”

     “It has everything to do with Jason! He is the chosen one. He is the Messiah sent here to foil their quest. We were all there the night he was born. We were all there at his birth! You’re going to tell me that there wasn’t something magical about that night? Mother knows what Jason is, but for twelve year she’s not been heard from. Most think that she’s dead, but I for one believe that she lives. It’s just a feeling I have.

     “Anyway, you’ve heard the stories of how others here in the mountains felt something mystical had taken place on the very same night Jason was born. Some of the older ones claimed that they saw a golden child in their dreams. Perhaps, there were others who felt it, maybe round the country, or even the world for that matter.”

     Valora stared at the floor, and was silent for a long while. Then she spoke. “Dee, there is something about Jason that I wanted to tell you about my pregnancy, but I gave my word.”

      “I had my suspicions since the day of Omar’s announcement,” said Dee. “But, the night you gave birth to Jason erased any doubt I may have had.” Dee continued as Valora walked over to the door and stared out at her garden.

       “After Tony’s death, I went into hiding. There was an official investigation. They found nothing. Except several leading newspapers wrote stories suggesting an insider trading scandal with Tony and I implicated in the murder. The story soon died, but it diverted attention from Eastern. Soon banks began closing their doors as the dollar plummeted when Middle Eastern and Asian investors rolled over hundreds of billions. Well, you know the rest.

      “We are refugees in our own land. What we have done up here in the mountains is to buy time, nothing more. Soon, New America will send a larger force to wipe us out. They can’t afford to allow us to rebuild. They will come; if not now, then one day soon. Without Jason, to one day lead this clan, it’s just a matter of time.”

      “What is Jason supposed to do about it?” Valora asked, incensed. “He’s only twelve.”

      “I wish I knew,” answered Dee. “But, he will not always be twelve. Now, unless you’ve forgotten how to treat a guest, bring me one of those blueberry muffins that you’re so famous for.” 

       Jason rose from the grassy knoll behind the hut, and bolted down the path, more baffled about his life than ever. He ran until he was standing in the camp of Sean Michael O’Leary.