“Today, is the best birthday ever,” said Lorrie.
“Can I have more cake,” asked one of the children.
Kira bustled about. “Just you hold your horses.”
“Kira, I’m starving . . .”
“Keep your mouth closed when you’re chewing,” she scolded.
Youngblood couldn’t help laughing.
The party ended with Lorrie curled up on her side, cocooned around her puppy Goldie still holding Annie.
Chapter 18
Yosemite
The ancient single-seat jet-flyer had been manufactured decades earlier, but after Youngblood restored it—it was a thing of beauty—black and chrome and ear-shattering. It reminded him of the world he had left behind, but he rejected the sense of loss that came with that. Instead, he focused on his new world.
With Kira’s arms wrapped around his waist, they took off and flew the machine higher and higher. He let the skyscape fill his imagination and enjoyed the ride to the edge of the mountain range.
Kira shouted joyously in his ear, “Faster! Faster!”
They flew high enough to be invisible and unheard from the ground, but their viewscreen let them get a good image of the land below.
“Look at that! It’s a convoy with wagonloads of goods alongside herds of cattle and sheep being driven up a canyon pass,” said Kira.
“That must be the loot from Jarod’s last tax collection.”
Without hesitation, Youngblood swooped the turbojet down for a closer look. They saw a collection of ant-sized people and animals swarmed around tiny toy-like wagons along a narrow trail into the canyon gorge. The trail was choked with traffic—wagons and herds of animals were being driven by men and women, young and old, toiling along the trail.
“Where’re they going?” screamed Kira in his ear.
Youngblood shouted back, “Let’s fly ahead of the convoy and land on a mountain ridge overlooking its path. Then we can see what Jarod’s up to.”
As the convoy reached the shadow of the mountain, Youngblood descended to a ridge few miles ahead overlooking the path and set down, using the scrub brush to conceal the flyer. Lying flat on the mountain ledge, they used binoculars to observe the canyon below.
Across the canyon, tiny patches of green shrubbery were in striking contrast to the wooded forest and crumbling rocks of the cliff. Hidden amongst the rocky landscape, the pair observed while remaining unseen.
Youngblood relaxed.
“Water?” he asked, offering Kira his flask.
“Sure,” she said, as she took a sip and licked her lips.
She patiently settled beside him for what would be a long wait as the convoy completed its journey, but a whistling chilly mountain wind blew against the cliffs causing them to snuggle together.
Youngblood stared at her in her buckskin outfit.
She asked, “What are you thinking?”
He said nothing and after a minute she blushed.
He smiled.
It was an hour before Jarod’s convoy reached the end of the canyon which concluded at a blank cliff face.
“Look!” exclaimed Kira.
They were shocked when a gigantic sliding door in the side of the mountain rumbled open.
They watched in awe as Jarod drove his convoy into the mouth of the mountain door.
Youngblood said, “It’s an underground bunker of massive proportions. It’s like the old Cheyanne Mountain bunker that the military built near Colorado Spring. This must be a similar complex that was abandoned by the military after the war.”
“How did Jarod get it?”
Youngblood could only shrug.
Motorized vehicles, refrigerated trucks, and storage containers appeared at the mountain entrance. A swarm of men and women used forklifts and physical labor to transfer tons of material from the horse-drawn wagons to the bunker’s vehicles and storage containers. The herds of animals were driven into corral pens.
Kira said, “I’ll bet this complex is connected to the network you found on the Dark Web.”
“There must be a whole colony living off of what Jarod steals from us.”
“Probably. There must be an underground tunnel running from your bunker going all the way to this mountain. I’ll bet that’s what the subway-like tram system is for.”
“Let get a closer look,” said Youngblood as he made his way surreptitiously down the cliff.
Together, they climbed down the mountainside to a vantage point where they could to get a look inside the bunker and eavesdrop on the workers. They hid in a cluster of boulders not far from the huge sliding door.
“Look,” said Youngblood, pointing to the other side of the canyon where workers were going into and out of smaller hatch entrances on the mountain ridge leading inside the mountain.
“There’s Jarod,” whispered Kira, pointing to a nearby figure with his hands on his hips and an impatient expression on his face.
They watched as Jarod drove the men like a maniac for an hour moving goods and herding animals into corral pens. He raged at the wagon drivers to move the dry goods toward a storage area.
“Look at the people carrying heavy loads,” said, Kira. “They’re dressed in rags and are in terrible condition.”
“The gang members are using whips on them.”
“I think these are the missing people from the valley. They’ve been taken as slave labor,” said Kira her voice sharp with anger.
Pyro’s family?
The pair continued to watch and despite Jarod’s efforts, there was still a great deal of work to be done when a distinguished well-dressed man joined him at the entrance.
One of the gang members approached and greeted him, “Governor Blackheart . . .”
But Jarod cut him off. “Make your report to me,” his voice as cold as a blast of icy wind.
The man made a hasty report on the progress and beat a hasty retreat.
Youngblood and Kira peaked from their hiding place to get a better view of the man.
Blackheart stood before Jarod with wavy dark hair and a jutting jaw. He was strikingly handsome with a surprisingly youthful appearance for a middle-aged man.
“Hello, Son,” he said in a deep rich baritone voice.
“Why have you come here?” asked Jarod, his voice high pitched. “I’ll report to your office when everything is finished,”
“I like to see things first hand.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
Blackheart said nothing, but his smirk hinted, I don’t trust anybody.
Instead, he said, “How have you been? You look fit.”
“I’m fine.”
A frown marred the older man’s face. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Now you have.”
Blackheart walked around the loading platform as if he were on an inspection tour.
“I was born in this bunker, as was my Father,” he said, waving his arm wide.
“As was I, Father.”
“After working for my father, I became a successful leader I learned how to seize and maintain control of people and power.”
Jarod listened, his face impassive.
“Today, I dominate. It’s the duty of men like us to shape the future.”
“Men like us?” asked Jarod.
Blackheart flashed a malevolent grin, “Son, we’re blessed with all the gifts of an emerging super race. Technology offers us great advantages. I envision a future where we build a great empire, surpassing all that has come before us. I want to be a part of that and I want you to follow me . . . when the time is right.”
Jarod scowled, “I’m ready to do much more now.”
“Don’t be too impatient!”
They faced each other in a tense standoff for a long moment.
Finally, Blackheart moved closer to Jarod and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Father and son relationships can be . . . delicate.”
He waited as if he expected some conciliatory reply. When one was not forthcom
ing, he added, “Let’s put the past behind us.”
“That’s not easy.”
Blackheart smirked, “Still the disobedient child. You can still become someone important. It’s not too late to . . .”
“To what? To obey your commands like one of the valley slaves?”
Blackheart laughed—a hard, cold, cruel laugh. “I took no pleasure in the beatings I gave you. They were part of your maturing.”
Jarod glared at him.
“I see you hold a grudge.”
Jarod’s irritation showed. “What do you want of me?”
“Together, we can build something beyond your imagining.”
“With me doing the dirty work at your bidding.” He chewed his lip then clenched his teeth as the bitter words left his mouth.
Blackheart asked, “What do you know of my plans?”
“You want to use the valley slave labor to build your empire for the mountain people.”
Blackheart slapped a hand on a boulder and exclaimed, “Quite right, but you disagree, don't you? You want to unite all the people and share the wealth. Under your leadership, of course.”
He added, “You’ll find that there is more to politics than you think. There are layers of intrigue.” The blood drained from his face. Moving his pasty white face closer, he added, “It’s a magnificent opportunity if you accept my direction.”
Jarod pointed toward the convoy and said, “I’ve brought you what you asked.”
They faced each other, neither flinching until Mayor Fox came from inside the bunker and approached them.
Youngblood shifted to get a better view.
Blackheart listened to a lengthy report of inventory totals from Fox.
Fox said, “We’ll be significantly short for the next launch.”
“How much? We’ve got to launch soon. Damn. If I don’t send the quota, there’ll be consequences,” said Blackheart, a tremor in his voice.
Fox said, “If we supplement this convoy with all our reserve supplies, we can meet the launch requirements.”
Blackheart remained silent for several minutes as he thought about Fox’s assessment. “OK. We’ll use our reserve supplies to meet the launch deadline, but that means . . .”
He turned to Jarod and gripped his arm. “This convoy isn’t enough. You’ll have to go back to the valley and wring more out of them.”
“I brought all that you demanded.”
“Now I need more. Do we understand each other?” Blackheart pasty white face turned red as if he were about to throw a tantrum.
“I think we understand each other all too well.”
Fox obviously sensed danger. “This’ll work out if we all do our part.”
Blackheart said slowly, “As long as we have enough to launch the supply ship and later restock the reserve.”
Fox said, “Absolutely.”
Blackheart said, “Jarod, you’ll have to make up the shortfall before those storage supplies are needed. It’ll mean an extra tax collection.”
“I can’t squeeze the valley people again so soon. There’s bound to be trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Refusals. Resistance.”
“So, handle it. You’ve done it before.”
“There are more complications than usual.”
“I don’t want to hear you’re whining. Just get it done.”
Jarod said, “I’m warning you.”
“Don’t! Don’t warn me. Let me warn you. Get it done!”
Youngblood and Kira climbed away from the gang members and back up the cliff. At one-point, Kira slipped, but Youngblood managed to grab her arm in time to keep her from falling. When they reached the ledge with the flyer, they waited until nightfall then flew back to Jamestown.
Chapter 19
The End of Summer
With the end of summer, came an end to the quiet period. The friendship and the tranquility of the valley people once more faced increased gang threats.
Jarod was back—and he had new demands.
He announced a surtax, demanding more of everything—money, crops, furs, cattle, sheep, horses—and it had to be quick. He drove his men hard and they inflamed the people in turn.
People begged, “We won’t have enough to feed our children through the winter. You’ll starve us to death!”
Before, Jarod had been somewhat reasonable. He’d listened to pleas for more time or a chance to work out a debt, but no more.
He was harder now.
He had been a smooth talker, willing to threaten rather than act. Now he was more aggressive, doling out beatings and setting fire to homesteads.
There were no police, and there was no law, or appeal, save for Jarod.
But the farmers, ranchers, and townspeople couldn’t leave.
Where would they go?
Theirs was the only land for a hundred miles around that wasn’t a radioactive wasteland.
◆◆◆
After Youngblood and Kira returned from their eavesdropping exploration of the canyon convoy, they told Ben what they had witnessed.
Ben said, “There have been attacks on ranchers and farmers in the outlying areas around Jamestown. Several people were shot, crops and barns were burned—all part of Jarod’s new demands.”
Shaking his head, he added, “I’ll pass the word for a town meeting this evening.”
At dusk, nearly everyone in town was on the main street in front of the stable.
Ben said, “If we give Jarod all he asks, we’ll starve this winter.”
“The attacks are serious,” said William.
Ben was dismayed when he looked at the corner of the room and saw Lorrie playing with her puppy. As he often did when he had town business, he had left her in the care of one of the town’s women, but Lorrie always managed to escape so she could be near him. He was at a loss of what to do. But seeing her, triggered a thought.
He said, “One of Jarod’s recent acts was to force the school to close and burn all the books he could find in the outlying ranches.”
William said, “Yes, the sabotage has continued. The harm to Jamestown is serious. I don’t know who we can trust.”
Lew said, “Fox is working with Jarod.”
“What will we do?” asked Henry.
William said, “The first step to resist a dictator is to find empathy with your neighbor.”
Ben said, “That’s right. Our goal is to unite, share our strengths, and work together. Jarod’s point of view is to deny us information and technology to prevent us from seeing him as he is and developing an organization to fight him. In the aftermath of the fires on the ranches and farms, we must look to each other for protection.
“I propose we start a militia of townsfolk and people from the surrounding homesteads. Youngblood has brought us a dozen weapons as a start and promised more. We need to identify leaders in our group and train to defend the area.”
“Ben speaks the truth,” said the people.
They cheered.
Hope found a home in their hearts.
Chapter 20
Loci
Youngblood woke at the crack of dawn and was too excited to go back to sleep. He rose and threw a large log onto the campfire.
The horses snorted, ready to begin another day’s journey through the forest.
“What’s the hurry?” asked Pyro, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “We have all day to get to the bunker and explore the tunnels.”
“I know, but I can’t wait to get there. You get water from the stream and I’ll start breakfast.”
“Let Kira cook. She’s way better than you are,” said Pyro. “Kira. Kira, wake up.”
“What?” asked Kira throwing off her blanket and blinking at the pair of them in the dim light.
A few hours later, it was almost like coming home when they descended the ladder into the hibernation bunker.
“You guys dig through the storage containers while I tackle the computer,” suggested Youngblood.
>
He sat at the console in the control room next to the closet where Kira and Pyro picked through the crates.
His first order of business was breaking into the higher AI security levels, but as he contemplated how to do that, he overheard his friends speaking in low voices.
“We can use these,” said Pyro.
“Put them aside. We’ll collect the useful items to take with us,” said Kira.
After rummaging for several minutes, Pyro asked, “Why is Youngblood so eager to control the computer?”
Kira said, “Well, besides the obvious need to get into that weapons’ magazine, he has a disease and he’s hoping to find someone who will cure him.”
“Can’t our doctor help?”
“Apparently not.”
“How serious is it?”
“It was serious enough to get him into that hibernation chamber.”
“Yeah, but he seems fine now.”
“He has setbacks. I’ve noticed he gets weak from time to time.”
“But he recovers?”
Kira said, “He has so far, but there’s no guarantee how long that will last. He hopes we’ll find another group of survivors somewhere who have retained their technology.”
Pyro said, “Maybe one of the tunnels will take us to them.”
“That’s what he hopes.”
“What’s the name of his disease?”
“I don’t know. He never says.”
“I’m going to ask him.”
“Don’t you dare. As if he needs reminding of his misery. I forbid you to ask him,” said Kira. “He has a right to his privacy. He’s been through enough.
“All right. Don’t get excited.”
“He’s been all alone, the poor dear.”
“Well now, he has us,” said Pyro.
Kira said, “That’s right, Pyro. He has us.”
Youngblood felt a surge of emotion well up in his chest.
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