Divided We Fall

By Leslie Risley

Luke Thoreau is sound asleep when his mother creeps into his bedroom, tells him he must immediately head to his grandmas house, and disappears into the darkness. With no time to spare and gunshots ringing out in the distance, Luke awakens his little brother, Andy, and they quickly escape into the woods. War has come to America.

Luke and Andy have been preparing for this battle for their entire lives. With help from other like-minded individuals, their parents have done their best to resist the changes of the times, but in doing so they have made themselves a target. Now torn from all they know and destined to become the future of the American resistance movement, Luke and Andy encounter danger at every turn while traveling to reach their extended family, and must attempt to survive in a hostile land filled with new friends and allies who promise of a better future that may never come.

Divided We Fall shares the thrilling adventure tale of two lovable brothers as they embark on a heroic journey to battle tyranny and take back freedom in a war-torn America.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Oct 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491779484

Leslie Risley

Leslie Risley is a nurse and marine who earned a bachelor’s degree in Nursing from the University of Chamberlain, and associate’s degrees in Nursing and Science from Belmont College. She also attended the University of Maryland-University College while serving as an intelligence analyst in the Marine Corps. Leslie currently lives in Ohio with her family.

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Copyright © 2015 Leslie Risley.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-7947-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-7948-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015916926

iUniverse rev. date: 10/08/2015

CONTENTS

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 1

It was late August in Kentucky, still hot all day, but the nights were starting to get cool. I was stretched out on my bed listening to the breeze in the trees just outside. I wasn’t awake, but not quite asleep either. School would be starting soon. The warm days were getting shorter and instead of staying up my brother, Andy, and I were forced to go to bed early so we could be ready when school started, but that didn’t mean we could fall asleep.

The white walls of my room slanted up toward the ceiling. They glowed in the never-ending twilight. I pulled out my iPod that I snuck up with me and typed a message to my brother. You awake? No answer. I flipped in the bed and sighed. Sleep, I commanded myself, but sleep would not come. So, I stared out my window and watched the blowing of the wind through the trees. What seemed like hours passed and my eyes finally drew heavy as the darkness swept over the hillside. I closed my eyes with the image of an unfamiliar shadow creeping through the field and across the road. What was it? I vaguely wondered, a coyote? A mountain lion? I dismissed it as my sleepy drooping eyes slowly closed. Then, there was nothing, darkness, sleep.

Funny how time stands still when you sleep. In one instant you are calmly in bed with the normal world surrounding you, same old walls, same old ceiling, same old bed embracing you. There is a quiet comfort in familiarity. You know when you open your eyes there will be the same comfortable house and rooms there to welcome you. So, when something is different you seem to feel it. That’s the only way I could have possibly woke up, a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. My eyes opened, and I saw before me a figure in the door. It came closer. I blinked to focus. Fear was building and my eyes darted around my still, dark room. Is this a dream? I asked myself. Surely the fear inside me would have waked me by now if it were. The figure now towered over my bed directly between me and my hunting knife. It sat at the bed’s edge. Its long arms reached toward me, closer now, closer. The shadowy figure slowly took a form and whispered my name as it shook my shoulder.

I exhaled as the form took shape, Mom, don’t do that to me. I sat up angry now.

Shhh! She whispered. Get your brother. Get to the backdoor. Grab your bags and go. Luke, don’t look back. Get to my mom’s. She’ll know what to do.

What? I grabbed her arm as she started to get up. Mom, what are you talking about?

There’s no time to explain. It’s started. I only hope we have given you enough … Her voice trailed off as she leaned in and hugged me with a crushing strength that took my breath away. You are going to be okay. I know you will. A muffled thump in the room below drew her attention. Take care of your brother. She whispered. Then, she was gone. The figure disappeared. It blended with the darkness and without a sound vanished in the night.

Mom? I whispered, but I knew there would be no answer. I lingered only a moment listening, but her sweet soothing voice would not answer me. In fact, it never would again. Mom, I thought, don’t go.

I forced myself into action quickly sliding into my shorts and t-shirt that I had thrown on the floor before I crawled into bed. I started for my bedroom door, but stopped. Grandma’s house was probably a hundred miles or more to the north in Ohio. That was a long way off which meant there would be nights out in the woods, mosquitoes, unpredictable weather. I slipped a pair of jeans and my hooded jacket over the shorts and tip-toed to Andy’s room. I approached him just like mom had approached me, as a silent figure, but Andy’s sleeping body obviously did not have that built in sense of awareness that wakes you up when something is amiss. It took several times of hard shaking before his limp, snoring figure would wake up. Andy! Andy wake up! I kept saying. Just when I was about to punch him in the face (part out of necessity and part out of the sheer pleasure of it) his eyes popped open.

What do you want? He whined pulling away and curling tighter into his blanket.

Get up. Get dressed. I said. We have to go to grandma’s. I stood and walked to his dresser. I pulled out clothes similar to mine, sleeveless T shirt, shorts, jeans and a hoody. Then, I threw them at him. Now!

Go back to bed, you idiot. He turned over. I’m not falling for it … Grandma’s, right … ha-ha.

Now, two things happened at once. I reached over the bed and snatched up my little brother seriously reconsidering changing my mind about punching him in the face, and we heard an earth shattering crack that echoed in the night. It was louder than thunder after those long periods of the silent storm while you’re holding your breath listening, counting, and suddenly you see the lightening flash. Time stopped for a split second, and we were posed, like statues, with my left hand around his throat and my right arm cocked back to stress the importance of urgency. We stared at each other until Andy broke the silence. Was that a gunshot? He hopped out of bed and threw his clothes on. What do we do? He asked as he pulled his hoody over his head.

I found my voice after a long pause. We get out. My voice sounded more certain than I felt. My mind was racing and inside I was torn, but the only thing I could do was go with what mom had said. In my heart I wanted to hide. An image of the crawl space in the attic came to my mind, but I dismissed it. We have to get to grandma’s. Mom said. Now, let’s go.

Luke, Andy protested. We don’t know who fired that gun. That could be mom or dad down there bleeding, needing our help!

Mom knew that could happen. I said the words that sounded so cold. And she told us what to do. Now let’s go.

We snuck down the creaky steps, through the back door, and into the dark garage where our packs were stashed. I looked down at my bare feet and swore to myself. No shoes, I said under my breath. Then, I grabbed my pack and motioned Andy to grab his. We slipped into the garage where we heard the next booms of gunfire and crashing glass from inside. My heart was torn. Deep inside I wanted to run in and help, but I had nothing, no weapon. I had even left my hunting knife upstairs. I looked at Andy and remembered mom’s words, Take care of your brother. I couldn’t do that if I rammed in the front door and got myself shot, but if it were just me I would. I would save them. I looked at my little brother angry with him now, mad at the people inside, and furious at myself for leaving.

I walked to the door and gently twisted the door knob until I felt the latch give. Then still clinging to it, I gently pulled it open. I would only allow the door to move an inch at a time until I could see the side lawn clearly. The first hint of dawn was lighting the darkness, slightly different shades of grey marked the familiar landscape. The tree line was a dark contrast to the ever lighting dawn. I drew in a ragged breath and realized I was leaving home forever. More crashing furniture came from inside, and a scream, high and piercing, then silence. mom, I thought. I froze. Then, Andy fell on me, jolting me into action again. Andy, you idiot! I whisper-screamed.

I tripped, He looked at me, smiling, his teeth gleaming in the breaking morning. I had that all too familiar urge to punch him in the face again, but I saw he was holding up two pair of boots. I sighed with relief and snatched my hunting boots from his hands. I threw them on my feet and whispered, Let’s go around the back and to the trees. Andy nodded. Then, we slipped into the cover of the shadows of the woods.

What now? Andy asked as we paused at the tree line.

Let’s just wait here a sec. I said looking back to the house. Everything was happening so quickly. Maybe mom and dad will be coming soon. My eyes were staring at the path we had taken. Then, they’d dart to the other side of the house as if willing mom and dad to appear, but they didn’t. The dawn was almost upon us when we smelled the smoke. I smelled it before I saw the light of the fire that engulfed our house, the beautiful log home and everything we had. I turned my head, unable to think of it anymore. The smoke was beginning to sting my eyes. I looked at my brother. Let’s go, I said. He looked at me with tear streams on his face and nodded. No words would be spoken.

We walked in silence along the familiar paths of the woods. This one would lead to a small pond that was stocked with fish. There were three ponds on our property. We had vacationed at all of them at one time or another. Every other weekend we would grab our packs and just take off for the lake. Sometimes we’d bring friends, other times it was just the four of us. Tina, my girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend, had joined us on one of the first camp outs of the season. Shortly after, I broke up with her. She had obviously lied about being a fan of the outdoors. She didn’t know the first thing about camping. That hadn’t bothered me as much as the whining. Help me with this; do that, blah, blah blah. She grew very annoying very quickly. When we had first started, she walked half way up the second hill and started the complaining of how tired she was. Dad snuck a peak at mom with his eyebrows raised and mom shot back one of her evil don’t you do it looks. Dad almost laughed and quickened his pace to get away. I knew right then that this was going to be a long weekend. I half smiled now remembering, but then reality came rushing in once again, and I remembered why we were walking this time.

This would not be one of those happy memories, but be remembered as the worse day of my life. I imagined the scream from the house. Could that have been mom? I wondered. No, I answered myself. If anyone could get out of a pinch it was mom and dad. Andy and I used to pick on mom as we grew stronger, and she grew older. She was weaker than even Andy now. She had slowed, but she still had an edge. I wouldn’t count her out of any fight especially if dad was there. Dad was larger than life. In our boxing practice, he would take hit after hit and never be shaken. Together, they could take down five or six people, but what if there had been more? What if I could have helped, but didn’t? What if they were gone and it was my fault? I looked at Andy and wondered would he blame me if they were dead? My chest began to heave as I thought of the word, dead. My parents were dead and I ran away like a coward.

We reached the small north pond and rounded the lake to the shack. We pulled our packs off and leaned against the tiny building. What now? Andy asked.

I sighed deeply and didn’t answer. I just let that question hang in the air. What now? I thought. What now? My brother was looking to me. Our family was broken. Should I have done more to help? They were dead, and I huddled in the woods and did nothing. I was alive, and they were dead. The only direction I had was to go north to Ohio. We’ll stay here today. We know this place, and we know these woods. I was tempted to travel no further, to just stay in this sanctuary, but mom had insisted on going north to Ohio. She, dad and grandma had run through crazy what-if scenarios for as long as I could remember. I remember getting drilled when I was a kid. It started out pretty normal I guess. What do you do if there is a fire? or What do you do if there is a tornado? By the time I was twelve dad was drilling me on, What do you do if you’re the leader of a platoon, and you’re tasked with holding a bridge against a superior force? That’s when I knew our family was different. I almost smiled to myself. The sun’s light had broken through dawn and the temperature was beginning to rise. A loud grumble in my stomach reminded me, we hadn’t eaten yet. Let’s see what we’ve got in our packs. I suggested. We’ll go from there.

We emptied our packs. I had a treasure trove of little survival trinkets. I’m so glad we have these. I said out loud as I sat back and inventoried all of the neatly laid out gear. My hand fell to the snares, survival food, and survival whistle complete with fishing hooks and line inside, and pots for cooking.

But, no tents, Andy pointed out. He was holding his prized first aid kit and staring at his own mound of equipment. Though each of our packs had one unique piece to help the family as a whole, they were fully equipped for an individual’s survival. Andy’s special piece of equipment was a first aid kit. Dad had given it to him for his pack when he was eight, because he was too small to carry heavier gear. As he grew older, no one could convince him to part with it. Even as mom grew weaker and he grew stronger, she took the heavier pack, unfortunately, it had the tent.

Andy had dumped his treasure trove of supplies into a huge pile of junk. I shook my head at Andy’s lack of organization. Do you even know where anything is in that mess?

What? Andy’s voice almost squealed in protested. It’s not messy.

I waved a hand in dismissal of his comment not wanting to argue. My mind processed what he had said, no tent. We’ll have to make a tent or shelter somehow as we move on. I wished I had thought to take that tent off of mom’s pack. Tonight, we’ll stay here and sleep in the shack. Tomorrow we’ll start heading north. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the weather will hold till we get to grandma’s. More than likely they’ll at least be a couple nights where we’re wet and cold." I said more to myself than my brother.

Andy nodded. I realized he was a tough kid. He was two years younger, and I gave him a lot of crap, but all in all I could think of no other kid I’d want with me. What happened back there? Andy voiced the question that I had not yet begun to process. I dare say that I avoided it. Who were those people? He went on.

I don’t know, Andy. I didn’t get a look at them. I started shaking my head. Mom said, ‘It’s started’, but I don’t know what that means. It was more than a burglar, for sure. Mom and dad wouldn’t be in trouble for anything, so not the cops. It just doesn’t make since.

Are we at war? Maybe, we were invaded. Andy asked.

I don’t know. I admitted. We’re nobody. Why would any other country want to attack our family in an invasion? Why would anyone at all, for that matter? Again, we fell into silence.

I tied a string to the end of a stick and leaned it against the shack. Andy had already dug up some worms from the soft ground under the sweeping leaves of the willow, mom’s willow. It was her favorite kind of tree. I tossed the line into the pond and thought again, mom’s willow. Dad liked the big lake because he could take the boat out, but this was mom’s favorite spot. She loved the little pond and the big willow, and now she was gone.

The tears came then. By the side of the lake that my mother loved, I allowed myself to cry. I tilted my head to heaven and breathed in the air, long and deep. Tomorrow, I will leave my home forever. I will go to Ohio, to people that I don’t know, and I don’t know what will happen. I thought to myself. And I will leave my home and the place where my parents lay in ashes. That was one of the