Armed with his newly acquired binoculars Marion spent the remainder of the afternoon scanning the skies to no avail. Somehow they new he was watching, that had to be the reason. He decided to give it up for a while and made some talkback calls to alert the faithful to what was happening. They thanked him for putting out the word and he felt better afterwards.
The evening was uneventful, but he had trouble staying awake during the news, the nightmares were taking a toll on his energy. He went to bed early and fell quickly to sleep but it didn’t take long for the nightmare to make it’s appearance and several times he awoke in a cold sweat; his heart racing and head pounding making it difficult to get back to sleep.
Over the next few days he became certain that his dreams were premonitions of what was to come. He told everyone that would listen, but they wouldn’t believe that a socialist coup was in the offing. Surely the great nation of America would never fall to the forces of darkness. But Marion was becoming more and more certain of it. There were increasing warnings from the NRA that a gun ban was imminent if good people did not remain vigilant. Marion would not be one to let them down, he called his local chapter and made sure they knew that.
He was having trouble concentrating as the days went by. He was prone to nodding off every time he sat down for more than a few seconds and he kept remembering what his sister had said about seeking help, but he pushed it from his mind every time he did. He was master of his own destiny. He was a real man and that was that.
He was getting ready for bed one night when he remembered some sleeping pills that were in the medicine cabinet. He decided that perhaps if he took one he might sleep deeply enough to ward off the nightmare. He got them out and took one, then took another for good measure. He needed a good night’s sleep, otherwise how was he to remain vigilant? Every night the news brought fresh horrors from the Muslim terrorist in the White House. He needed to be prepared. He got into bed and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Next door the neighbours sighed as the screams started up once again. Mr. Anderson looked at his wife with exasperation.
“What is it with that crazy old coot? I’ve had enough of this! Every night it’s the same thing. I can’t stand it anymore, I’m calling the police.”
His wife nodded sympathetically. She was dismayed it had come to this, but her husband was right, it needed to stop.
Marion thrashed about in the bed as the dream played itself out.
“…And so, comrades, we will now be known as the People’s Republic of America. Special Forces will be rounding up known trouble makers and local police will be collecting all guns and rifles in accordance with the ban now in place on ownership of weapons…”
Marion gasped in horror. His worst nightmares had been realized. Why hadn’t people listened to him? He heard a pounding on the door. Peeking through the curtains he could see two police officers standing on the porch. So they had come for his gun, had they? He reached into the nightstand drawer and took out his Colt .44 and checked that it was fully loaded.
The time had come for all good patriots to make a stand.