Southlands

by D. J. Molles

  “I’ve been sitting for five hours. I’d just as soon work the stiffness out, if you don’t mind.”

  Angela smiled graciously. “I don’t mind at all.”

  Still, she saw a shimmer of sweat breaking out on Carl’s forehead.

  Angela decided to walk around to Carl’s side of the desk. She didn’t want to appear like she was hiding behind it. “You need some water or anything? Have you had anything to eat?”

  Carl nodded. “I have. I’m fine.”

  “Alright.” Angela tapped her fingertips on the desk. “Look. Carl. I know you don’t like beating around the bush and I’m sure you want to get right to the point...”

  “That’d be ideal.”

  A breath. “But I’m going to tell you that I’m glad you and your boys are back. And I’m sorry for your losses. Our losses. I didn’t know Tomlin and Blake and Nate like you did. But we’re all reeling here.”

  It sounded like something a politician would say, and she immediately hated it.

  She wasn’t lying. She was reeling. But she’d spent so much time over the last two days deadening herself to everything that had happened, all the shit that had been wrought, that now when she spoke of it her voice had a far-off and impersonal tone to it.

  “How is Abby?” Carl asked, ignoring her condolences.

  Yet another thing that Angela had been trying to deaden herself to. Except that you can’t deaden yourself to your own kid. A mother’s brain simply doesn’t work like that.

  “She’s…” Angela felt a tremor move across her face. “…I think she’s going to be okay.”

  “That’s good.” Carl frowned. “Didn’t she get bitten? I’m not trying to pry, Angela. But it has some consequence to everybody.”

  Angela nodded. “She was bitten in the leg. By a primal.”

  “And she didn’t get infected?”

  “No.” Angela swallowed. “Or…or it hasn’t presented yet.”

  “It’s been two days. It would have if it was going to.”

  Angela knew that that was as close to comforting as Carl Gilliard would ever be. “Thank you. We have a lot of hope.”

  “Any idea how the primals got in?”

  “It wasn’t the Lincolnists,” Angela said, maybe a little too quickly. “They got in through the drain pipe near MacFayden Pond.”

  “I’m aware of that pipe. We padlocked it years ago.”

  “Well…someone cut the padlock.”

  “And who do you think that would be?”

  Angela took a deep breath through her nose. “Carl, I’m glad you’re back. We need you here. We need you to continue your investigation into the Lincolnists. We need to solve this problem so we can be civilized around here again.” She held up a finger. “But we’re going to do it the right way.”

  Carl quirked an eyebrow, his cold, gray eyes evaluating her. “What way is that?”

  “Legally.”

  “There’s no such thing, ma’am. No such thing as due process anymore. There’s just common law. Things that we all agree to as a society. Such as not trying to assassinate the elected leader. Such as not letting primals in the wire just to cause chaos.”

  Angela knew that Carl was going to be like this. She’d prepared herself for it. But she still felt a surge of anger. And a measure of fear that went along with it.

  “Well,” she said. “Maybe we should start thinking about laying down some laws.”

  “Ms. Houston,” Carl lowered his head. “Now would be the wrong time to put shackles on me.”

  “No one’s putting shackles on you.”

  “Restraint is not the answer. We tried restraint. And the Lincolnists have only used it against us. We tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. And they turned around and tried to kill you.”

  Angela felt her pulse elevating. “If we handle this too harshly, we run the risk of creating a bigger rift in our community. I don’t want a civil war.”

  “I think you already have one.”

  Angela’s face flushed. “You want to speak plainly, let’s speak plainly. Cards on the table. I’m not asking you to be restrained. I’m telling you. You will act like there is still a goddamned constitution. You will treat these people like they still have rights.”

  “Alright,” Carl said. “Cards on the table. This isn’t a civil issue, Angela. This is war. There’s a leak in Fort Bragg, and they are somehow getting information to Greeley, Colorado. That information led to the deaths of Tomlin, Nate, and Blake. Whoever is leaking that information is in bed with the Lincolnists. And that means the Lincolnists are in bed with President Briggs. They want to see you dead, and they want to see the UES burn. That makes them spies of an enemy. And that means they don’t have rights.”

  Angela had to clasp her hands together to keep them from trembling. She wasn’t scared of Carl. She knew that he would never harm her. But she was scared of what he might do. And infuriated by the pushback she was getting.

  Time to try a different tack.

  “Do you know why Abe Darabie deserted from President Briggs?” she asked. Forcing her tone to be level.

  Carl didn’t answer. He just watched her with his icy gaze.

  “President Briggs was starving people in Greeley for dissenting. If they disagreed with him, they didn’t get any food. And when he realized that Abe knew about it, you know what he said? He told Abe that in order to rebuild a civilized society, they couldn’t be democratic. In order to make the country safe enough to harbor democracy again, they had to be a dictatorship.”

  Angela jabbed a finger in a general westward direction. “That is the enemy. That is what he is doing to his people. That is why we seceded in the first damn place. I’m not going to copy his methods, Carl. I’m not going to be a dictator. Fighting fire with fire just leaves everything burned.”

  Carl considered this for a moment. His eyes strayed from Angela’s and looked out the window. Looked out at the view of Fort Bragg. The view of everything they were trying to build.

  “Do you know where that phrase comes from?” Carl asked. “Fighting fire with fire?”

  Angela didn’t.

  “Settlers would do controlled burns of the grasslands around them when a grassfire started up nearby. They’d carefully burn the flammable materials around them, so that when the grassfire reached them it wouldn’t engulf everything they’d worked so hard to build.”

  Carl took in a long, heavy breath. Dragged his eyes back to Angela. “You’re in charge, ma’am. I’m not going to buck your leadership. If you want restraint, I’ll do my level best. I just want to be sure that you know there’s a fire coming. And if we don’t do everything we can to stop it, it will consume us.”

  “We’re going to do everything we can, Carl.” Angela softened. “I don’t want to micromanage you. And I’m sure you don’t want to be micromanaged. Will you give me your word that you will treat these people like they still have rights?”

  Carl seemed tired. But she still saw that hatred in his eyes, and it worried her.

  But he nodded. “You have my word, ma’am.”

  SEVEN

  ─▬▬▬─

  MORALS

  You could’ve driven through Elbert and not known you’d been through the center of a town.

  Thompson pulled the pickup into a dusty parking lot beside a tumble-down structure with an ancient rusted sign that declared it “Elbert Farm Store.” With the exception of a few houses, a Quonset hut, and some grain silos, that was it.

  “Welcome to Elbert,” Tex said as they rolled to a halt. “Only town that grew in population since the plague.”

  “Yeah?” Lee squinted out into the bright, flat environment. He saw a single, battered farm truck, tucked back in some overgrown brush. The houses looked dark and unused. The only sign of human habitation came from the Quonset hut: a thin trail of gray smoke that lifted into the sky.

  Tex kicked his door open. “Population was thirty back in the day. Now it’s fifty.”

  “Qu
ite a metropolis,” Abe murmured as he stepped out.

  Lee followed. They all closed their doors behind them.

  In the hour that it had taken them to drive here, the temperature had risen. The sun was near its highest point, and the terrain around them seemed mostly sand that reflected the sharp sunlight, with some patches of green here and there.

  The wind gusted along the street, stirring up man-sized dust devils.

  Between gusts, Lee smelled the faint scent of cooking meat. “Aren’t you worried about that smell drawing in primals—teepios?”

  Tex didn’t appear interested in moving. He stood at the front of the vehicle with his hands clasped on the buttstock of his slung rifle. He turned his head, and Lee saw his own reflection in the scratched-up surface of Tex’s sunglasses.

  “Well,” Tex said. “It’d only give them more food to earn from us.”

  After a long moment waiting in the sun, the sound of a door opening reached Lee’s ears.

  Out of the Quonset hut came three men. One was a large, bearded man, with wild, curly hair. The two that trailed him looked like they might be his sons. They shared the same wild hair and the same broad faces, though their beards were not as prodigious as the man in the lead.

  One of them dragged what looked like a large feed sack behind him.

  Tex spoke quietly as they approached. “Just…like I said…be on your toes.”

  Lee had already given the three men a quick once-over for weapons. The two younger ones both had a rifle slung on their backs—one a deer rifle, and the other an AR. The big man in the lead had a black, semi-auto pistol on his hip. The pistol sat in an unsecured, neoprene holster that flopped around as the man walked.

  There might be exceptions to the rule, but a man with a floppy neoprene holster was probably not a quick-draw expert.

  “Captain Lehy,” the big man said, as he reached them. He held out a massive paw, and Tex reached forward and gave it a single shake.

  “Arnold,” Tex said. “How’s business?”

  Arnold gave a large grin. “Oh, we’re keepin’ our heads above water. Speaking of, we could use some. Been drier than a popcorn fart.”

  “Your well not pumpin’ anymore?” Tex inquired.

  “Oh,” Arnold waved him off. “She’s pumpin’ most of the time. I’m just bitchin’. Don’t like the well water if I can help it—too much iron in the water. Gimme goddamn kidney stones. Prefer the rain catches, but we ain’t had none.” Arnold surveyed Lee and Abe with a suspicious glint. “Got some new hands, I see.”

  Tex didn’t seem to want to introduce them, and that was fine by Lee. It didn’t seem like Tex trusted these people much, and if that was the case, Lee didn’t either. It would be simpler to remain strangers.

  “Well,” Tex cleared his throat. “Whatcha got for us, Arnold?”

  Arnold let his eyes linger on Lee. As though to test Lee’s mettle. Testing to see who would look away first. A version of chicken favored by men and boys with things to prove.

  Lee held his gaze, unperturbed. Arnold was the type of large man that was used to elbowing his way through life. Getting what he wanted based purely on his size. The end of society had probably only reinforced this behavior.

  Arnold was the type of guy that thought he could take anyone.

  Lee smiled pleasantly at him, thinking, It’s never too late to learn something new, old boy.

  A frown creased Arnold’s brow, and he looked away from Lee. He motioned for the younger guy with the feed sack. The young man stepped forward and placed the sack on the ground, between Arnold and Tex.

  Lee became aware of the smell of decay. A few flies made anxious circles around the sack.

  Tex sucked his teeth. “Arnold. We talked about this.”

  Arnold pushed the sack with the toe of a boot. “Them’s eleven heads in there. You can count ‘em.”

  “I don’t wanna count ‘em,” Tex snapped. “It’s supposed to be bodies.”

  “Eleven bodies is hard to haul.”

  “Bullshit,” Tex growled. “Where are they?”

  Arnold made a face. “I dunno. Out wherever we shot ‘em.”

  Lee watched the exchange carefully. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Tex getting agitated. But he was focused on Arnold and the two younger men behind him, and how their fingers kept creeping towards their weapons.

  Tex stepped forward, pointing a finger. “So if I walked back to whatever you got cookin’ in that smokefire, what am I gonna find, huh?”

  Arnold’s jaw worked. The fingers on his gun hand twitched. “You ain’t goin in there. You got no right.”

  “It’s just some antelope,” one of the younger men said, but he didn’t even sound convinced of himself.

  Lee was focused on hands, but in the back of his mind, he put two and two together, and the realization made a weed of violence bloom up in him, invasive. He wanted to hurt these men. Because…because they were vile.

  Tex’s lips were pulled back tight, showing his bottom teeth. “Bodies, Arnold. Fucking bodies. You show me them bodies, and you get the supplies. But not before.” And Tex leaned forward. “And by the way, this is your last chance.”

  Arnold glared. “Or what?”

  “Or I’m done with you.”

  “You see them heads. That’s eleven teepios kilt. I’ve got a right to them supplies, and you’re gonna give ‘em over.” Arnold took a step forward.

  Arnold might’ve gotten away with his tone, but combined with the step forward, and his hand twitching towards his sidearm, Lee decided that a line had been crossed.

  Lee took one step to his right, so that all three of the OP Elbert men were fully visible to him, and swept his rifle up.

  Everyone tensed. Hands touched weapons, but no one really made a move.

  Lee had them dead to rights and they knew it.

  He had both eyes open. His left held eye contact with Arnold. Through his right, he saw the reticle hovering over Arnold’s unruly hairline. “You got a twitchy right hand. It twitches again, I might twitch myself.”

  Arnold’s jaw muscles pulsed. His eyes zig-zagged from Lee to Tex, wondering if Captain Lehy was going to call Lee off. But Tex just stood there. Waiting to see how things played out.

  Lee’s heart beat steady. Something like gratification flooded his veins.

  Through his eyes, he willed Arnold—Do it. Move.

  He wanted the shooting to start.

  “I got a rifleman,” Arnold stammered. “He’s aimin’ for you now.”

  “Good for him,” Lee said. “All that tainted meat. He’s probably got the shakes. You trust his aim? I wouldn’t. Maybe that’s why your own hand is so damn twitchy.”

  “Tex,” Arnold said, his voice pitching up, worried at what he saw staring back at him. “What’re you doin’?”

  Tex snorted. “Me? I ain’t doin’ shit.” He leaned forward. “We’re through, Arnold. You hear me? I gave you a second chance last time. That’s all you’ll ever get outta me.”

  Arnold was sweating hard, his nostrils flaring. “Well. What’s that mean for us?”

  “What’s that mean for you?” Tex scoffed. “I don’t know, Arnold. I guess that’s up to you. But you won’t see my face anymore. You’re not a part of us if you can’t follow my goddamned orders. So we’re gonna walk away. And you’re gonna walk away. And that’s that.”

  Jump, motherfucker, Lee thought.

  Arnold’s lower lip quivered. “You’re not gonna…send anyone else? To take us out?”

  Tex shook his head. “Now, what would be the point in that?”

  Arnold didn’t seem to have a reply.

  Tex reached out and touched Lee’s shoulder. “Alright now.”

  Lee ground his teeth together. Hanging on the moment for a second longer.

  Eagerness turned to stale frustration.

  Shit.

  Lee didn’t lower his weapon, but he did come out of the sights. He was confident that, from this distance, he could snap-shoot all th
ree of them before any of them could get a weapon out.

  Arnold and his two men didn’t move. Lee’s rifle was still very much addressed in their direction.

  Tex, Thompson, Abe, and Lee, backed all the way to the truck, not moving fast. Slow and easy. They didn’t want to look like they were beating a retreat. There was careful calculation to that—not just dick measuring. Human beings were always most aggressive when their opponent appeared to be retreating. Arnold and his boys were not likely to be an exception. They’d lived up to Tex’s warning about their squirreliness, and it was obvious they wanted the contents of the truck bad.

  Maybe bad enough to get in a gunfight.

  At the truck, Lee waited until all three of his companions had entered the truck and gotten into their seats. Then he sidled up into his own seat, keeping his rifle out the open window so Arnold and his ilk knew to keep still.

  “Fucking animals,” Tex breathed.

  Thompson put the truck in gear, and they drove off in the direction that they’d come from, still at the same slow speed, so as not to appear to be retreating.

  It wasn’t until they were up to sixty miles-per-hour and they could no longer see Arnold, that Abe let out a loud swear. “You kiddin’ me with this shit?”

  Tex looked into the back. Then shook his head, his lips pressed together in disappointment. “Un-fucking-believable, huh?”

  Abe swore several times, then took to wiping his nose. “And I thought that cooking smelled good.”

  “Well.” Tex turned back around. “Now you know what smoked teepio smells like.”

  Lee felt as disgusted as Abe. The smell of cooking meat had made him hungry. Now the knowledge of what it was they were cooking had robbed any appetite from him and left a queasy black hole behind.

  “How long have they been doing that?” Abe asked.

  Tex shrugged. “Hell if I know, man. We discovered it last month. I came down on them pretty hard. They’re the reason for the new rule: whole body or no deal. I guess they couldn’t stand to pass up all that free meat.”

  Abe made a disgusted noise.

  Lee’s nose wrinkled. “Any known affects from eating it?”

  Tex shrugged. “Well, they don’t get infected from it. We know that. But then again, I can’t say for sure whether Arnold and his folks have always been batshit crazy rednecks, or whether that meat is doing something to their brains.”