Phoenix Rising: Read Free

Jake.
    â€œKaren has decided to make an honest man out of me. So one week from now, we are going to be married. You are all invited.”
    Jake’s announcement was met with an enthusiastic response, and congratulations.
    Holy Spirit Episcopal Church, Gulf Shores, Alabama
    Judge Roy Moreton had made national news back in the pre-O time by allowing the Nativity scene to be erected on the courthouse grounds. When he refused to remove it, even after a federal court order, he was arrested, and removed from the bench.
    He was one of the first judges to offer his service to the fledgling group of freedom fighters once the Phoenix Rising group broke away, and it was he who issued marriage licenses to Jake Lantz and Karen Dawes. Father Ken Coats conducted the wedding at Holy Spirit, which was particularly meaningful since it was a meeting at Holy Spirit that had allowed the little group of survivalists to expand beyond their initial base at Fort Morgan, to encompass all of Pleasure Island.
    After the wedding, a reception was held in the parish hall.
    â€œHey, Major, I’ve got something for you,” Deon Pratt said. “It’s a wedding present.”
    Jake Lantz was no longer a major. In fact, in a recent organization of their group, Jake had been made a general in the provisional army of United Free America, but Deon, a martial arts and weapons expert, was one of the original members of the group. And because Deon had served with Jake in the pre-O days of the US Army, he often called him major, as did the others of the original group.
    â€œYou didn’t have to get us anything, Deon. Just having you here is enough.”
    â€œOh, this isn’t for both of you. It’s just for you,” Deon said. He was carrying a paper sack, and reaching down inside, he pulled out a can of root beer.
    â€œOh, my God!” Jake said. “I can’t believe it! A root beer? Where did you find it?”
    â€œIt?” Deon said. He laughed. “It’s not just ‘it.’ Tell him, Captain. Or should I say, Mrs. Lantz?”
    â€œWe now have a whole case of root beer back at the house,” she said.
    â€œIt’s been almost two years,” Jake said. He popped the top of the can, and it began to spew out. He covered the spew with his mouth, quickly, so as not to lose any of it.
    â€œJake, it’s hot. Don’t you want it cool first?” Karen asked.
    â€œHot, cold, it doesn’t matter,” Jake said and, as he turned the can up to his lips, the others laughed and applauded.
    â€œWhere are you two going on your honeymoon?” Barbara Carter asked. Barbara was a very pretty girl with long blond hair and big brown eyes. Eighteen years old now, she was seventeen when she and 96 other youngsters were rescued from Youth Confinement and Enlightenment Center Number 25. Barbara now worked as a secretary for Jake.
    â€œI don’t know,” Jake replied with a smile. “I heard about this place called Fort Morgan, which I understand is right on the beach. That might be a pretty good place to go for a honeymoon.”
    Barbara laughed. “It might be.”
    Barbara left and Jake took another swallow of his root beer. His love for the soft drink was well known, and in the pre-O time he always kept a refrigerator full of the beverage.
    â€œWhen Deon told me he had found a source for that, I knew it would make you happy,” Karen said.
    â€œA source? You mean there’s more?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œFantastic.” Jake took another swallow, then looked at Karen. “Are you upset that we aren’t really going on a honeymoon?”
    Karen laughed. “Jake, it isn’t like we have to get to know each other now, is it? We’ve been sleeping together for three years.”
    â€œShhh! You would say that in a church?”
    â€œYou mean you would rather me lie?”
    â€œHa. I guess not.”
    Bob Varney came over to congratulate