The Hunger's Howl

by A. D. Popovich

  Scarlett thought for a minute, still stunned over the proposition. It just might work. Sheena seemed tough and compassionate at the same time. “Soul-scoured,” the Silver Lady’s voice rang in her ears. Scarlett gave Twila a long look. Twila nodded yes as if reading her mind.

  “Won’t they know we aren’t really a family?” Scarlett asked.

  “This is a new set of guards. They come and go. Besides, I’ll feed them a line of shit. I’m not jerkin’ off anyone unless I’ve got something to gain by it.” Sheena gave a knowing smile. “Let’s go to my camp-site. Tents are only allowed from dusk to dawn.”

  “That seems odd,” Scarlett said.

  “Got to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Always packed. Always ready to run,” Sheena said.

  “Why’s that, with all the guards?”

  “A horde could invade any time. I think the buffalo meat draws them. I warned them to stop barbecuing. But, hey, money talks. The buffalo butcher makes more moolah in two days than I make in two weeks sweating over the wood stoves.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Scarlett was in awe of Sheena. She definitely seemed to be in the know. What a great bit of luck to have her as an ally.

  “Seen that shit happen two times. We’ve got plenty of guards today. When the guards start leaving, trouble’s on the way. Always keep your eyes on the perimeter. I think the last guards were tipped off. They left in the middle of the night before the horde came through. I happened to be—” She stopped, glancing at Twila. “I was in the caboose that particular evening. That’s how I survived.”

  “Who gets the caboose?” They made their way to the tent area where people hurriedly pitched their tents as the sun slipped to the horizon, turning the desert cold.

  Sheena unrolled her tent. “Skeeter, my boss. He owns this dump. The caboose is prime real estate. It’s the only place with beds, flushing toilet, running water, and a stove. Once Skeeter earns his wad, he’s opening a hotel in Boom Town. Then he’s selling the rights to the boxcars to the highest bidder. But, if I play my cards right, I’ll end up with the caboose. Watch, learn, and stick with me. And we’ll all make it to Boom Town with a pot of gold.”

  “I wanna help!” Twila exclaimed, interrupting everyone’s muted conversations.

  “Shh, keep your voice down. You need to talk like a boy,” Sheena warned, looking around. “Let’s call you Twi. It could pass as a boy’s name.”

  “Ooh, I like that,” Twila thankfully agreed. This was not the time for a tantrum.

  “It seems odd, a train with only five boxcars and a caboose,” Scarlett puzzled, handing Sheena the stakes.

  “Beats me. Skeeter said it was here when he got here. Need another stake on your end.” Sheena pointed.

  Scarlett pounded in the stake. “Why doesn’t everyone sleep inside the boxcars?” It made the most sense.

  “You’d think. Skeeter plays hardball. It’s all about the moolah. He leases the boxcars to vendors with fast moving product like food, ammo, and weapons. They can afford to pay him top dollar. On top of that, he collects a hefty commission of their sales, which is how he pays the guards. So, the only one who really makes a killing at Last Chance is Skeeter and the guards.”

  “Then why did the guard go around taking people’s food?” Scarlett found herself getting irritated.

  “The guards get away with anything they want. Even murder.”

  “Why aren’t you a guard?” Scarlett figured Sheena was tough enough.

  “Thought about it. The guards are the first ones to bite the big one when the marauders strike. The last time we were raided, they had a sniper. Took out all of our guards in minutes.”

  “That’s horrible. What did you do?”

  “Stole someone’s horse and barebacked it to the river for a day. I have a hideout there, which I’ve used on occasion. I’m telling you straight. Always have a backup plan. And a backup plan for your backup plan,” Sheena advised. “Here we go. You first, Twi.” They scrambled into the ten-by-ten tent.

  “What about a fire?” Scarlett was surprised no one had fires.

  “No fires at night,” Sheena whispered. “Too dangerous. The Dead are learning. Fires mean people.”

  After they settled into the spacious tent, Twila curled in the sleeping bag and was asleep in minutes. Being alone these past few months, Scarlett struggled for something to say. “So, you make bread?” Sheena looked more like a dystopian gunslinger than a baker with her holster slung around her hips and her tight pants tucked into her boots. Scarlett gave her a surprised raised-eyebrow expression.

  “I know. Who’d a thought,” Sheena said just as surprised.

  “Tell me about Boom Town.”

  “Boom Town’s a few miles from the border. Used to be a popular Wild West tourist attraction, complete with hotels, shops, and restaurants. It basically turned into a safezone overnight, once people started migrating to Texas. It beats the hell out of this shithole.”

  “What makes it so special?”

  “Location. It just happens to be next to Immigrant Station, otherwise known as Check Point Charlie, which is a government installation built almost a year ago to control the flood of refugees storming the West Texan border. I guess they wanted a way to thin out the refugees before they got to Texas. The Enforcers stationed at Immigrant Station hang out at Boom Town. And there’s a lot of them. They’re ready for trouble whether it be hordes, marauders, or refugees. Since Enforcers are the only people officially paid by what’s left of the United States government, they have gold. Refugees who can’t get into Last State end up there. Business-minded Class-Zs like me can earn a comfortable living there and enjoy the luxuries of pre-apocalyptic America. It’s guarded like a fortress.”

  “How far is it?”

  “About three hundred miles east. A few miles before the actual Texan Border. Skeeter takes me on his monthly trips in his Hummer. While he’s making his bank deposits and inspecting the construction of his hotel, I’m making connections. They say Class-Zs can illegally buy their way into Last State. Still fishing for the contact.”

  “Why don’t you just go to Boom Town now?” Scarlett was curious.

  “Moolah. I’ll never get ahead working for Skeeter. Just biding my time, the hotel should be done in a couple of months. He promised me the rights to the bakery boxcar if I help. Then I’ll run the bakery. Eventually, I’ll trade up to guns and ammo. It’s the best game going on around here. Then I’ll start bringing in the gold.”

  “Where do the vendors get supplies, like baking ingredients, canned goods, and weapons?”

  “Runners. You’ve got to be desperate, or lucky as shit to be a runner. Only did it once.”

  “What exactly is a runner?” Scarlett figured she was referring to scavenging supplies.

  “A desperate person like you and me, who get here only to realize you’re screwed if you don’t have a shitload of gold and food. Runners go to the nearest towns in search of supplies, anything they can trade. It’s too dangerous now that the hordes started roaming the desert. So, just in case you’re thinking about it, don’t. Only half the runners make it back.”

  “Really, then why do they do it?” Scarlett was astounded.

  “When you’re starving, the decision-making process doesn’t work so well. Been there and done that. I’m telling you all of this, well, because you’ve got Twi to protect.”

  Scarlett was surprised with her openness. “You’re so brave and independent,” Scarlett said, admiring her.

  Sheena waved her off. “Scared as shit, just like everyone else. But, I’ve always been a survivor.”

  “What’s next?” Scarlett was intrigued.

  “It’s simple. Save enough moolah for the outrageous propriety fee Boom Town charges and don’t die in the process,” Sheena said optimistically. “I’m sure you already know, it’s hard being a woman in this world. Good thing you’re masquerading as a man. It’s too late for me. Immigrant Station already coded and chipped me as a Class
-Z.”

  “They do that? What about our constitutional rights?” Scarlett’s spine tingled with an unknown fear. She had no idea things were so bad. She thought getting to Texas was the hard part. Her reality had turned topsy-turvy.

  Sheena snickered. “The Bill of Rights and all that BS? No such thing. It disappeared along with wi-fi, fast food, and rational people.”

  “Hmm, and how did you really know I was—am a woman?” Scarlett suddenly wondered.

  “I’m hard to fool. Used to be a defense attorney. I can spot a liar from a hundred yards.” She laughed. “I was with a decent man for a while. Some horny toad shot him thinking I’d be his property. Yeah, I showed him. Shot the bastard in the head.”

  Who was Scarlett to judge? She had shot the man at the lake house without waiting to know his intentions. Evil, she knew all too well. The Stockton Boys had taught her to embrace her dark side when it was needed.

  “Enough about me, what’s your story? How’d a sweet girl like you make it here without being murdered or worse?” Sheena asked as they sat around the dim lantern’s light.

  “Jeez, it still seems like a nightmare I can’t shake.” Scarlett stopped to think about it. “We were doing just fine until the Ravers took over our valley. Then our safehouse was destroyed by a storm.”

  “Ravers?”

  “New World disorder thugs.” Scarlett shrugged, not wanting to think about it.

  “Where was this?” Sheena asked.

  Careful, her inner voice warned. “California,” Scarlett offered vaguely. “We heard Texas was the last safe place in the U.S.”

  “Like winning the lottery.” Sheena’s tone was caustic. “Hey, you’ve got an in. Twi. Not many children survived. I’ve only seen two children the entire time since . . . I’m serious, let’s keep together. She’ll need extra protection. I saw the way people eyed her.

  “Actually, I’m in the same predicament as you. I can’t even buy enough food to get to Last State. You think I can get a job—as a man?” Scarlett asked.

  “There’s usually a long waiting list. I’ll check around. I’m starting to get my allies in place.”

  “I overheard it’s rather expensive to get into Texas?” Scarlett was already calculating in her head; if she could get a job, they could leave in two or three weeks.

  Sheena gave her a long uncomfortable look. “First, you both have to pass Immigrant Station’s bloodwork. Then there’s a battery of tests and tons of paperwork. Last I heard, it’s going on a hundred thousand a head to get into Last State.”

  “What? That’s sheer lunacy!” Scarlett stared. Her stomach turned acidic.

  “And it’s getting even more difficult to get in. I mean, Texas doesn’t need us. Hell, they don’t even want us unless you’re some genius like an astrophysicist or neurosurgeon.”

  “Then why is everyone talking about Texas like it’s Shangri-la?” Scarlett fought back the tears threating to breach the brave face she wore.

  “You’ve got a child. That’s your ticket in, provided you get there without anyone stealing her. And, I’ll bet you’re a babe under all that muck on your face. Might as well use all of your assets, if you know what I mean. Just don’t give it away. Learn to bargain.”

  “You think we have a chance?” Scarlett mumbled, settling into the sleeping bag, careful to not awaken Twila.

  “Sure, you do. You made it this far. Anyway, I’ve got to get some sleep. I’ve got the early shift.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Scarlett said, suddenly so tired she could hardly think.

  Despite her new friend, she worried about Texas. It all seemed so impossible. What if Sheena isn’t a friend? Anxiety suddenly pumped through her heart. She recalled something the Silver Lady had said, “I’ll send helpers along the way. Stay away from groups. That’s where The Ancient Bloodlines are looking.” She’d just have to leave as soon as possible; there was no alternative.

  ***

  At sunrise, the camp bustled with people breaking down tents and packing supplies.

  “You mind taking care of the tent? I’ll meet you over there at the tables with breakfast before they sell out.” Sheena winked at Twila.

  Scarlett stuffed the tent into the tiny plastic-like tube while Twila tugged on her shoes. She wondered why Sheena seemed so sure they would be able to get a table. Yesterday the picnic tables had been full. Scarlett walked briskly through the camp with their packs and Twila in tow, making it to an empty table as Sheena headed toward them with an armful of paper plates. Scarlett couldn’t help but stare in awe at the dancing lights swirling around Sheena’s aura. She must be a good person.

  “I think she is,” Twila said with a yawn and cuddled in her lap. “She’s bringing us food!”

  Sheena set down several paper plates of food on the picnic table.

  “Got there just in time. We’ve got grits and pancakes. And bacon . . .”

  “Wow!” Scarlett gasped. “Bacon. You’re an angel,” Scarlett announced a bit too loudly. “How’d you get all of this?”

  “Called in a favor. No jobs, sorry to say. I’ve got to get to work. My shift starts in ten minutes.”

  Scarlett scanned the picnic area. People sat around in small groups and ate quietly. “What happened to the big group of people who were here yesterday?” Scarlett wondered.

  “Good eye. There might be trouble. Notice the guards?” Sheena pointed to the Humvees and guards positioned around the perimeter.

  “Where are the rest of them?”

  “Several guards snuck out here around three thirty in the a.m. The big caravan must have offered them a lot of moolah. I’ve seen it happen. A lot.”

  Scarlett gave her a puzzled look.

  “See, the guards are refugees just like us, trying to buy their way into Last State any way they can. Let's just say they work for the highest bidder. When they got here, they were starving, too. They climbed the food chain by working the system. Just like I plan to do. Some of the bigger wagon caravans have gold. They steal our guards by paying in gold. Then they disappear into the night, avoiding any backlash—like getting murdered for their gold.”

  “Why do the refugees need guards?” It was a strange concept to grasp, calling Americans, refugees.

  “Last Chance to Immigrant Station is deadly. Enforcers used to patrol around the Two-Hundred-Mile Marker, but they stopped. Marauders know this. They lie in wait, ready to ambush you at every stream, river, or valley of grass. The odds are refugees making it that far must have gold. That’s where I lost my friend. We almost made it.”

  “Wow! And you go to Boom Town once a month?” Scarless questioned.

  “Yeah, barreling along in the Hummer like we’re in an Afghani insurgent zone with RPG near misses flanking us while Skeeter blasts the machine gun at anything that moves.” Sheena glanced at the boxcars. Speaking of Skeeter, I’d better go. Should be back in about five hours, depending on how much bread Skeeter needs. Stay here.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver dollar. “This will buy you both showers and use of the porta-potties for a week. Don’t let them screw you.”

  “You’re too kind.” Twila suddenly gave Sheena a hug, surprising both of them.

  “Be my eyes. Watch the perimeter. I have a feeling something’s about to go down. If you see anything coming, I’m at the second boxcar from the caboose.”

  “Actually, yesterday when the guard let us in, he seemed a bit distracted. At first, I thought he was just in a bad mood because he couldn’t wait to get rid of us. Now that I think about it, he ran to the other guards after he let us in. Maybe he’s worried about something.” Scarlett recalled.

  “Ooh, and remember the people in front of us?” Twila said.

  “That’s right. A wagon train arrived just before us,” Scarlett added.

  “Um hmm, I knew it. They must have given him a horde or marauder update. Something big’s about to go down. Keep me posted. If you see a large group of horses or vehicles, get your horse and run. Go north by
the Rio Grande tributary.”

  Scarlett and Twila walked to the corral. Willow seemed pleased to be with equestrian mates. She had a spark to her gait and wasn’t limping as much. Scarlett wished she had something of value to tip Jones. At least she had no worries about leaving Willow there.

  After their cold and invigorating showers, Scarlett and Twila sat at the picnic table. Twila colored and doodled with her broken and well-used crayons. When Twila fussed, she gave her math problems, mainly to keep her occupied but also to keep the child’s mind working. She had absolutely nothing to do, so she people watched. She felt like a new-age spy, using her intuition, labeling each person as friend or foe.

  Last Chance was slowly filling up with new arrivals. They all had that same vacant, beaten-down look in their eyes. Their murky auras told her they were hanging on for dear life, and a chance for a life-saving meal, and a last chance for hope. Last Chance, what a fitting name. She overheard bits of conversations, unsure whether it was her inner hearing or if the words were spoken aloud. People were from Oregon, Colorado, Washington, Idaho, and all over the northwestern states.

  What? Only five guards guarded the perimeter. When did that happen? A six-wagon caravan pulled to the side of the camp, and the guards immediately surrounded them. Gunshots rattled the camp. People automatically went into a duck-and-cover stance. Scarlett and Twila hid under the table.

  “I’m scared.” Twila whimpered.

  Scarlett hugged her. “Isn’t the Silver Lady talking to you?”

  “Not since we got here. I hope the bad people didn’t find her?” Twila sniffled.

  “I don’t think we can hear her with all these people’s thoughts bombarding us,” Scarlett said. That’s what she understood from the Silver Lady. Thinking about it, she realized with all the people in the world before the pandemic, and everyone plugged into their devices, it was a wonder people’s brains hadn’t overloaded with all those emails, texts, posts, and tweets polluting cyberspace. For it was suddenly clear. Every single thought that ever existed was merely energy—taking up space in the etherworlds. Happy thoughts created positive energy. Thoughts of anger, fear, hatred, greed, lust, and power created negative energy. Based on the energy lingering in the air, negativity was winning.