by D A Carey
“Clyde, have any of your people talked to Vince and his crew?” Big Jim asked.
“No more than small talk as they deliver supplies or show them around.”
“Is everyone who is interacting with them someone you trust one hundred percent?”
Clyde nodded. “Yes, sir. They say what we want and know when to keep their mouths shut if they know what’s good for ‘em. They report back to me anything they see or hear.”
“Good, good. So what are they hearing?”
“Vince is fairly banged up. He had cancer surgery a while back and is recovering slowly. The trip getting here took a lot out of him. We could arrange an accident or take him out if you want.”
“No, that would be bad. Too many people know he’s here in case any of Dave’s ex-Special Forces people come nosing around here. That big Jew Dave has working for him leads that crew, and he gives me the willies.”
“So what do we do?”
“We need to find out what they want.”
“I know a lot of that. They’d originally planned to go to Kentucky where Vince and Liz are from. Now that they’re worried Dave is in trouble up in Colorado, they’re debating heading that way, even though they’re plumb tuckered out and need to rest here awhile before doing anything.”
“We need them out of here fast. Don’t we have an older Ford Bronco we could offer them to help make the trip out? We could load it with supplies and whatever they need in the name of helping them on their journey. The longer they’re here, the more people they can talk to.”
“We do. What should we tell them about the chartertown in Colorado so they don’t decide to head there direct from here?”
“I’ll talk to them. I’ll spin a yarn about the dangers of heading north from here. I may even add that a messenger got through on motorcycle with a message from Dave Cavanaugh that SOP-Town was secure but for us not to attempt to head north and to advise any refugees to head east.”
“What if they ask to meet with the motorcycle messenger?”
“We’ll say we sent him back with messages from us and a request for replacement radio equipment.”
“It might work, especially if I have a few of my people drop hints to back up the story.”
“Yeah, have them play up the fighting for territory and violence between here and Colorado and drop good news about the route east. We need them convinced that if they can make it to the Mississippi River, they should be back into the functioning U.S. with police, electricity, and resources to support a straight drive to Kentucky.”
“Whatever you say, boss. Vince showing up is bad for us. What if he gets word to his uncle about what we’re doing here?”
“He doesn’t know anything yet.”
“He will soon. We can’t restrict where he goes like we have with other people.”
“We mostly need to run interference between him and some of the people we’ve been segregating.”
“We can do that, although one of the men from my scavenging crews offered to take him to the cribs already.”
“Damn! I should have that man whipped!”
“It’s your call, boss. He was only trying to be hospitable. How was he supposed to know your plans?”
“Okay, but send that man out guarding something out away from the chartertown for a while and get word to everyone else that we’re on lockdown,” Big Jim said tersely.
“Sure. What about the three security men Dave sent down from Colorado?”
“We have two of them converted to our way of thinking. The third is more of a concern. We’ve been keeping him segregated as much as possible, but he might come around.”
“If he doesn’t, we’ll need to deal with him. Until Vince showed up, things were going well. This EMP strike was a blessing in disguise.” Clyde tried to smile, but it more resembled a leer.
“Not till Vince and his people leave, though. We can’t afford the scene.”
“Seems to me we could both use a drink to think this through. How ‘bout we amble on down to the saloon? I want you to meet some of the new girls working the cribs. There is one you’ll like that I recently picked up over in the hill country. She brought her kid along. A boy.”
“Can the boy work?”
“Some. It doesn’t matter, though. She’s worth it all on her own, boss.” Clyde gave a wolf whistle.
“They’re all professional girls no matter how pretty they are,” Big Jim said dejectedly. “Takes some of the fun out of it.”
“This girl isn’t,” Clyde said triumphantly. “She’s a single mom and was a bartender before.”
“How’d you talk her into coming here?”
“I told her you’re the supreme commander of this area and I caught her looting. That meant jail for her and protective custody for her son. I offered to let her go free but not her son, so she decided to come along.”
“That easy?”
“The devil is in the details, boss. She did need some persuading. You know how they are the first time. You got to break ‘em in like a spirited pony.”
“Make sure no one else touches her and she has an easy time of it for a while. We can try and bring her around. I’ll work on her myself if she is as pretty as you say.”
“She is.”
“Okay. And one more thing, Clyde...”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Next time you find one like that, you better check with me before you decide to break her in.”
“Sure, boss. Anything else?”
“Yes. Make sure you have a couple of trucks loaded with supplies and fuel for a trip east on short notice. I’m not sure when exactly, but I need you and a few other men you can trust to be ready to go on a moment’s notice to handle a hard task.”
“So we aren’t letting them make it east?”
“That wouldn’t be good for us. However, I need them seen loaded with supplies and heading east. It would be great if they’re seen leaving a trail a long ways away from here, so plan to be on the trail a few days.”
“Anything you say, boss. Anything in it for me?”
“What do you want?”
“Better place, more stuff, new women.” Clyde grinned. “What more could a man ask for?”
“We’ll work on that.”
<< Clyde >>
Later, in a back room of the salon with three of his most trusted and most deadly men in a firefight, Clyde laid out the high points of his plan. He didn’t worry much about details because that wasn’t how his mind worked. Even so, he was deadly in an animalistic sort of way. With him were Bill Green, a former SEAL, and Allen Adams, a former Marine, both dishonorably discharged. On the other side of the table was Trevon Williams, who had long been a leader in one of the small local gangs. He and Clyde had done some mutually beneficial business over the years, and he jumped at the chance when Clyde laid out what he had going on here. These were the kind of men Clyde had a knack for finding and recruiting, violence and muscle not too encumbered by morals and ethics.
“So we need to be ready to go at a moment’s notice,” Clyde said after outlining his plan.
“Whatever you say. I still don’t see why we don’t take care of ‘em here,” Trevon said.
“The boss don’t want even a hint of any wrongdoing here. That old man in Colorado loves Vince like a son. He’d create havoc for us if he even guessed we had a hand in something.”
“Hell, he don’t even know Vince is alive. Besides, if he did come, we’d handle him too.”
“See, Trevon, this is why you don’t do the thinking. Just trust that the boss knows what he’s doing.”
“Whatever, man. As long as I’m getting mine.”
“What’s in it for us?” Allen asked.
“That’s the same thing I asked the boss when he asked what we wanted.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“A better place, more stuff, new women. What more could a man ask for?” Clyde chortled.
<< Luke >>
Early the first morn
ing after their night in the parking garage, Luke went searching for someone in charge. The higher-ranking FEMA and DHS folks were staying a couple of floors up in the Galt House. The hotel and conference center had a unique architecture that boasted two hotel towers connected via an atrium-style walkway. The hotel towers were also connected to three office towers and a conference center. All of those buildings were connected to parking garages at different levels from the basement up to the fourth floor. That meant that the FEMA/DHS leaders could stay a few floors up in the hotel and walk directly out to the parking garage.
Several times during the night, Luke heard the distinct sounds of huge generators kicking in for fifteen to twenty minutes and then shutting down for a few hours. Luke wanted to know what that was for and get a general lay of the land. Even though he didn’t smoke, he had traded with his neighbors for a couple of cartons of cigarettes before leaving his subdivision. He was smart enough to know he needed a lightweight bargaining chip going into a situation like this, and because the dollar was virtually worthless, this was all he’d been able to come up with.
Walking the perimeter of the parking garage, he soon found which areas were off limits. He saw a guard kicking his boot through garbage and debris, occasionally bending down to pick something up before tossing it away.
Luke took a chance. “Can I help you find something?”
“Naw, just passing the time,” the guard said, obviously lying.
“I thought you might have been looking for a butt. I’ve got a fresh one to share if you smoke.”
“What do you want?” The guard eyed him suspiciously. “We don’t take bribes, and you can get in a lot of trouble trying.”
“It’s not a bribe,” Luke said in a disarming way. “I’m new here and don’t know anyone. I’m only trying to make a friend and get someone to tell me the rules around here. I thought sharing one of my last cigarettes would be harmless enough. I’m sorry if I put you in a bad spot.” Luke turned to leave.
“Wait a minute. If you’re only talking and don’t want anything in return, then you haven’t done anything wrong. Welcome to the camp.”
“Thanks, man.” Luke lit a cigarette for himself and handed one to the guard. “So where can I go and not around here? I keep bumping into places I shouldn’t be, and I don’t want to get into trouble.”
“It’s best to stay close to the garage. The perimeter is close here. The adjacent buildings are off limits unless you’re on a work detail. Going near them for a walk will make people suspicious. The hotel and conference center is only for the guards, FEMA/DHS leadership, and some of their support staff.”
“Support staff?”
“Yeah, like bartenders, cooks, massage therapists, and teachers for the leaders who brought family, and the comfort rooms.”
“What’s a comfort room?”
“Dude, you’re asking a lot of questions,” the guard said suspiciously.
“Sorry. I guess I’m curious by nature.” In an effort to try and relax the man, Luke decided to share some about himself. “I have, or had I guess, an office in the attached office building here. A couple of weeks ago, I came down here every day for work. Now I’m living in the garage in a spot where I used to park my car. Who’d have seen this coming?”
“Some of those preppers possibly. Heck, I was a guard at the jail a few blocks from here a few weeks ago myself. We might have seen each other at 4th Street Live for lunch. Now I’m guarding a parking garage where businessmen and their families sleep.”
“Hmmpf.” Luke took a drag off the cigarette, trying not to show he wasn’t normally a smoker.
“Dude, don’t tell anyone, but the comfort rooms are places for the leadership to go visit women who have decided to earn their keep in a different way.”
“I guess you saw plenty of those kind of women in your old job.” Luke laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
“This is different. These women were hairdressers or grocery clerks a few weeks ago. This whole thing has them scared to death. All they want to do is be warm, fed, and indoors. As much as you can’t believe in a couple of weeks you went from working here to sleeping here, imagine how far those women have fallen in a few weeks.”
“Do you visit them?” Luke asked quietly.
“No. I’ll be honest, though, I might sometime. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s a crying shame, and I’d probably need a few drinks to do it. It’s only that they’re doing it with other men, and most of them went into the deal with their eyes wide open. I’m a man, after all, and it’s not like I can do a normal old fashioned dinner and a movie date these days.”
“I get it. I ‘spose I get it both from your point of view and theirs. Like you said, it’s a crying shame. So why don’t you get to use the comfort rooms? You’re working hard.”
“It’s for the leaders and for a reward for guards that do something special like catching someone sneaking in or out or stealing food, something like that.”
“Or bribing a guard to talk?” Luke said as a half joke to see the guard’s reaction.
“Yeah. I could have claimed you tried to bribe me and got a reward,” the guard said, seeing through Luke’s subterfuge. “I got enough stuff to ask forgiveness for without adding to it. Besides, I expect you have more cigarettes stashed somewhere.”
“Actually, I might have a plan to find some if I was allowed to go a block from here.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“There’s a place a block away where I used to eat lunch a couple times a week called Addis Ethiopian Restaurant. The owner’s a good lady. I hope she’s doing okay. She was a smoker, and I know a few places she might have hidden a carton if she didn’t come back downtown and get them.”
“I’ll think about it and see what we can do.” The guard’s cigarette was down to the filter, and he stubbed it out and put it in his pocket.
Luke’s cigarette had several drags left since he wasn’t working his as hard. He stubbed his out then handed it to the guard. “I need to cut back anyways. See ya later.” Luke ambled back to his spot. He had enough to think about for a while.
* * *
Later that day as the family stood in line for their MREs, Luke saw the same guard from earlier and greeted him. “Hey, man, how’s it going?”
Initially appearing uncomfortable with the familiarity, the guard must have decided it was okay because he stepped forward. “I haven’t talked to anyone yet about taking you to check out that restaurant.”
“That’s okay, it totally slipped my mind,” Luke said. “I was merely thinking how much this line sucks. They could do it better. Would I get labeled a troublemaker for bringing up a new idea?”
“Depends how you do it. What are you thinking?”
“These people are living in the garages, and the floors and spots are numbered. Why not assign a floor leader to each garage floor? They can get some of those big plastic rolling carts from the hotel catering department and deliver the MREs. Aside from making people happy, it sure takes a lot of work off your men to not have to guard lines and hand out food.”
The guard nodded. “It might work.”
“If it does, you could expand the duties of those floor leaders.”
“Like what?”
“They can tamp down on violence, assign living spots, resolve disputes, and be the liaison with the leadership.”
“I like it. Why don’t you come with me? I know exactly the person to bring this up to, and he’s in the area today. He’s kind of new here but rapidly taking charge.”
“I need to get my food.”
“Your family can get it. Tell them Sergeant Penders told you to pick up a second meal for your husband,” he said to Cindy. “If they give you any guff, I’ll take care of your husband later.”
A few minutes later, Luke and Sergeant Penders were standing in front of a man Luke was sure had been a college professor previously. Now he was one of the higher ups with FEMA.
“Sir, this man has an intere
sting proposal you might like to hear. Normally, I wouldn’t disturb you, but this might be worth your time.” Luke noted that Sergeant Penders was perspiring even though it wasn’t hot out, alerting him to the danger of this position.
“You thought this worth interrupting my day?” the man said, drawing out the word “you” in an effeminate voice reeking with condescension.
Sergeant Penders nodded.
“Very well. As long as I’m already interrupted, I might as well be entertained.”
Luke went through the same proposal he had with Sergeant Penders, expanding on the idea since he’d had a few more minutes to think about the plan.
The professor paused for a moment. “Interesting. Let’s give it a try. If it doesn’t work, everyone in the garages will skip a day of rations and know it’s your fault.” He held Luke under his owlish gaze for a long moment. “I trust you can write up the plan and create a roster by six p.m. tonight.” It was not a question.
“I’ll need a notebook and pen.”
“Sergeant, make sure this man has what he needs and escort him around the garages to create his rules and roster. I’ll inform the other leaders what we’re trying.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When you’re done, Sergeant, you will have earned yourself a few chits, perhaps even enough for thirty minutes in the comfort rooms.” The professor’s attempt at a friendly smile came off sickening instead.
“Thank you, sir. If I can get a few beers, that will be plenty for me.”
“Suit yourself. If this parker,” the man said, using a derogative term coined by the FEMA leaders for the garage residents, “wants to upgrade his spot, help make sure that happens.” He turned away, ending the conversation.
Walking back to the line, Luke saw he would be rejoining his family before they reached the front. Before they got there, Sergeant Penders spoke low enough for only Luke to hear.
“When he said you can upgrade, he meant you can kick anyone out of any spot you want and the guards will help.”
“I don’t want to do that.”
“You don’t have to. You might want to think about doing it, though.”
