by J. J. Holden
Jaz snapped, and interrupted his monologue. “You’re a piece of shit, Jim. Total douche. My people didn’t do a damn thing to you, or him, or any of you White Stag losers. Maybe you’ll win, but that won’t make you right, and you’re gonna have to live with what you do. You’re a monster, just making excuses to do what you wanna do anyway.”
“You deserve what’s coming, Jaz. Hah! I made a joke and didn’t even know it. Well, just know that when the questioning is done, Peter’s told me I’ll have to train you for your new duties after he raises the flag of White Stag over your bullshit little farm. You’re too mouthy, Jaz. I promise you, when you get your ‘training,’ you are not going to enjoy it.” He grinned, then added, “Well, maybe you will enjoy it. Either way, I know I will.”
New Jaz immediately regretted lashing out. Dammit. It was gonna suck to be her real soon.
* * *
1100 HOURS - ZERO DAY +26
Cassy stood in the outdoor kitchen chatting with the day’s kitchen duty people. She made a habit of checking on them at least once each day, talking to whoever was working about their needs, their triumphs, their concerns. It was a way to connect with them and make people feel heard, and let them see her acting like the leader they’d made her into.
Sturm, the Marine Lance Corporal, walked into the kitchen and came up to Cassy. Her brow was furrowed, lips tight, and it immediately set Cassy on alert. Sturm said, “Can we talk outside?”
Cassy nodded and led her outside, away from the others. “What’s going on?” There were only so many things it could be, and none of those things were good. Cassy felt the effects of adrenaline beginning to hit her system and struggled to stand still and calm.
“It’s that time. Peter and his army are finally here. And ma’am, he has Jaz. That’s why she disappeared, and why Michael and I couldn’t find her. We went to look for her yesterday but had no luck. Peter’s on the far side of the food forest edge of the farm with a couple armed people, and Jaz is tied up a couple hundred yards further back. He says he wants to negotiate. Michael sent me to get you.”
Cassy’s jaw dropped, and her eyes were wide with shock. Those bastards have Jaz? “Oh God. Alright. Let me think. Get a half-dozen armed people together, and spread the word for the Clan to get their weapons and take up their assigned positions.”
Sturm nodded, then said, “You aren’t really going to talk to that psycho, are you, ma’am? He can’t be trusted, you must know that. I don’t think you should put yourself at risk, not for anyone here. Not even Jaz.”
“Sturm, I’m just going to talk to him. We’ll see what he has to say. Please, go do as I asked, and get our people in position just in case this goes south on us.” Not try to save Jaz? Yeah, right. Jaz was Clan, and Cassy’s mind roiled with curses aimed at the White Stag people.
Sturm sprinted away, and ten minutes later Cassy had her six people together. Sturm and the other Marine were busy getting the Clan in place and ready, so Cassy would have to rely on these six. “No one shoot unless they fire first,” Cassy said. “That’s Jaz out there, one of our own, and if she gets hurt because someone got an itchy trigger finger, it won’t go well for that person. Stay alert. I don’t want to lose any of you, either.”
Cassy and her six walked in silence toward the food forest, and Peter beyond it. When she reached the far edge of the forest, she saw Michael standing behind a tree with his M4 held at the low ready.
“Cassy,” Michael said in greeting. “They’re over there. This Peter guy insists on talking to you directly, if we want Jaz back. Alone. Listen, I like that girl, and she’s one of us and an original. But you matter more to the Clan right now than she does. Please, don’t go out there. Let me run messages back and forth, or something. His sidekick gives me the creeps.”
Cassy shook her head. “Sorry, can’t do that. But get one of our guys here ready to put a bullet in his head if this goes wrong, okay? And Michael, we can’t afford to lose you right now, either. You’re our general, and we need you. Don’t take any risks, okay?”
Once she was sure everyone was in good position, she emerged from the dense foliage, heading toward the man who must be Peter. Then she saw the man standing far behind him, next to a bound-up Jaz. Her jaw dropped, and a spike of fear and rage jammed itself into her heart. James…
She felt suddenly, terribly naked out there alone in the open. Exposed. Every shrub that rustled in the breeze looked like a sniper hiding and ready to take her out. She focused on keeping her back straight, head up. Now was not the time to show fear, no matter how badly she wanted to run back to the tree line. Which, she had to admit, was something she really wanted to do.
She locked eyes with Peter as she drew closer, focusing only on him, and avoided looking at Jim. She couldn’t show fear, not now. Peter’s eyes were sky blue. He showed no sign of being nervous either, his handsome face was relaxed. Even cocky. He raised an eyebrow as she approached, and he wore a faint smirk. Sonofabitch.
“You must be this Peter I’ve heard about,” Cassy said. It took every effort to keep her voice steady, but dammit, her people were on the line. For their sakes, she steeled herself and felt a flood of courage rise up when she thought about the need to protect them, her new family. “I want that girl back,” she added, and was proud of the steel she put into her voice.
“Yeah. I imagine you heard my name from the scout. Yet another murder on your head. Well, you’ll soon pay for that, along with all the other people you killed at White Stag Farms.”
He still wore that smirk, and it infuriated Cassy, but she tried to keep her face carefully neutral. What the hell was this guy talking about? “The only one of your people we’ve killed was your spy. I assume you found him on your way here. We won’t let you, the Locusts, or anyone else terrorize us. We’re done running from the Peters of this world.”
Peter’s smirk vanished, which gave Cassy a moment of pleasure until he said, “That’s not so. When you led the invaders straight to us, most of my people died. It’s ironic that you call my scout a spy, when all along the real spy is you. It’ll be your people who pay the price for that treason.”
Cassy clenched her jaw. This guy was a freakin’ lunatic. Her, a spy? “I think you’re misinformed,” Cassy said. “I led no one to you. In fact, it was your people who fired first at me. I was alone on my journey then, but instead of helping a fellow human being you—or one of your people—tried to kill me. Followed me. Hunted me. I didn’t lead the invaders to you, but I figure it was just a big dose of karma. You earned it, you bastard.”
Peter put his hands on his hips, looked up into the sky, and let out a long breath through pursed lips. Then he said, “Well, I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. I suppose that very soon, we’ll see who God deems right. I’ve led my people from the wasteland you helped create to this, the Promised Land. Or at least, that’s how my people see it. God’s on my side, so who can stand against me? You and your handful of people? You’re leeches feeding on the corpse of America, and we’re going to put that right.”
Smug prick. Psycho nutjob. The world would be a better place when Cassy killed him personally, she decided. “We aren’t just going to hand this over to you. This is my land, and they are my family. My people. We’ll fight you tooth and nail to keep what we’ve built here, no matter what evil you do to that poor girl you captured. She’s a good kid, and every harm that comes on her will be repaid, Peter.”
Then Peter surprised her, by smiling and nodding. What. The. Fuck? “Yes, Cassy, if I may call you that. She’s why I came to talk to you. I don’t want to hurt her, but she’s with you and that makes her my enemy. But there’s a way to avoid that. There’s a way to get Jaz back before my right-hand man indulges his impulses on her. Actually, you can save them all, Cassy. Not just Jaz, but every one of your followers can be forgiven for the sin of following you. It requires only an offering, just like in the Old Testament.”
Cassy felt her skin go cold. Peter wasn’t just crazy. He was e
vil. Behind his charming eyes lay the soul of a pit viper, and the sensation that she was his prey made her stomach lurch. After a few moments, she said, “Really, you don’t say? I can only wonder what sort of generous offer you have for us. How ’bout you enlighten me, you wannabe Moses.”
Peter shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to be Moses. Because of his arrogance, he never got to see the promised land God led him to. I’m smarter than that. Everything I do, I dedicate to the Lord these days. Well, at least that’s what I tell my people. The sheeple eat that shit up. Alright, I’ll speak plainly, then. If you surrender yourself and half your supplies of every type, I’ll have enough to feed my people until spring. Then I want half your winter wheat and so on. You get the idea.”
“And what should my people eat, if you take half?” Cassy asked.
“The other half,” Peter said. “If you don’t agree, of course, we’ll just kill you all and take both halves.”
“Logical. I have two questions though. First, what will you do with me, if I surrender to you?”
Peter said, “Don’t be stupid. I said God needs a good old-fashioned Old Testament sacrifice. That’s a blood offering, if you haven’t read the Good Book. Your blood, of course. But in a way you’ll live on—I’m going to feed you to the Red Locusts who now follow me. Which is to say, all the ones I didn’t kill. If you have ketchup, they might like some to go with your liver.”
Peter seemed to freeze, his eyes revealing a smile that his face didn’t show. Poker face. Whatever. This sick sonofabitch really thought the Clan would go for that? Cassy’s mind raced.
Then Cassy said, “I acknowledge your offer. I have a second question, however, which is this: How do I know you’ll keep your word? You are a psycho nutjob with delusions of grandeur, after all.” Take that, you prick.
“Your opinion matters less than you know, Cassy. Whatever you think of me, the fact is that it is me you have to deal with if you want your people to live. But, to answer your question, I offer you a question in return. What would you take as reassurance? A couple hostages, perhaps.”
“Yeah, right. You’d sacrifice your grandmother if you thought it’d get you what you want. I have a better idea. First, two of your lieutenants and their families. They’ll live with us and be well cared for. Every few months we can trade out for new ones, so they don’t get too comfortable among their betters.”
Peter let out a sigh. “I’ll think about that. It’s not unreasonable, though you’re still gambling that I won’t sacrifice them to get the rest of your shit. But you said ‘first.’ What’s second?”
Cassy steeled herself for the next part. If she had judged this guy correctly, this would be the harder sell—but the one that would most encourage Peter to keep his word. “Second, you send Jaz back to me with your capo, Jim. You must know what a devious little shit he is, but your scout told us he was your right-hand man. Your pitbull. I figure you manipulate him by letting him do whatever pervy rapey bullshit he wants and telling him it’s justified. Is that close to the mark?”
“Yeah. He’s useful though, and I trust him as long as I can feed his particular tastes.”
Wow, this maniac didn’t even bother to hide what he was doing, Cassy thought. Shoot, he was practically bragging.
“Well, he and I have some history,” Cassy said. “You want to do God’s will? He comes with Jaz to face justice for what he did, both to me and to however many victims you’ve thrown to your pitbull since then. And, he brings that Camaro with him. We won’t use it, but you’ll get it back if you honor your word. I have to talk to my people about it first. Give us time to decide.”
For the first time, Cassy saw frustration in Peter’s eyes, and the muscles over his jaw throbbed as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Good—she’d gambled rightly by asking for Jim and his damn car. But hostages weren’t much of a deterrence unless they included someone Peter actually gave two craps about. Peter stared at her for half a minute, and Cassy saw that his hands trembled ever so slightly. He was struggling to control himself. Well he’d better succeed, or her sniper would end his sorry ass, and then, well, they’d just have to see where the chips fell.
Finally, Peter said, “That… is acceptable, assuming you don’t chicken out. And Cassy? Don’t wait too long to let me know. You have two days. If you haven’t delivered yourself and your stuff by then, I’ll know your answer is ‘no’ and I don’t think you’ll like what I have in store for you.”
* * *
1900 HOURS - ZERO DAY +26
Supper was over, and Cassy walked the property to check on the sentries. She carried a gallon of water and a tin cup with her and offered a drink to each sentry when she stopped to chat. They exchanged pleasantries, and Cassy made sure to encourage each one to stay both vigilant and hopeful.
After she had stopped at the last sentry, who declined water, she walked up the hill to where the animals were kept, went into the small barn, and sat on fresh straw in the back of the shed. It was both soft and prickly, but it was quiet, and no one ever came out here at this time of day. Right now, Cassy wanted peace and quiet to think things through.
The Clan-wide meeting she’d held earlier in the day had gone about like she expected. None of the original Clanners or those who came immediately after had wanted Cassy to go surrender to Peter. They were willing to fight for their community. Cassy supposed they mostly thought of the Clan as their family, nowadays. Of the newer members, only a very small minority had suggested that Cassy submit herself to Peter’s cannibals, and they’d been soundly shunned by everyone else since then. This bothered Cassy. Right now, the Clan could die without unity. If she surrendered to Peter, she’d have to figure out a way to smooth those waters before she went. A fractured Clan was a vulnerable Clan. She’d trust her mother and many others in the Clan to raise her kids, but she wouldn’t leave them vulnerable. She couldn’t do that to them.
Cassy picked up a piece of straw and was about to put one end in her mouth to fidget with while she thought, when a motion to her left at the edge of view caught her attention. Her head snapped around toward the movement, and a flash of alarm washed over her, but then she realized it was Choony. Of course it would be Choony.
Cassy said, “You seem to have a knack for finding me when I’m doing some self-reflection, Choony. Did you follow me up here?”
Choony, ever honest as far as Cassy could tell, simply nodded but said nothing. He sat in the straw a few feet away from Cassy and picked up his own blade of straw. Cassy decided she’d sit in silence with him and wait until he spoke first, but after a few minutes she gave up. “So, tell me why you followed me up here. Bored?”
Choony shrugged and said, “I knew that if I had to make the choice you must face, I would want some company. Especially company that wouldn’t tell me what to do.”
“So you aren’t going to tell me to stay and fight? At the meeting you said you’d like it if I stayed, but now you don’t have an opinion?” Cassy smiled at Choony. The last few days had seen them speaking like this more often. Choony was a good guy to bounce ideas off of, it had turned out.
“Of course I have an opinion. I think you should stay, because I don’t trust this Peter to keep his word. That being the case—and given the Clan’s determination to fight back if needed, rather than flee or submit and hope it wouldn’t end horribly—they need your leadership. On the other hand, if you believe Peter would honor a deal and you feel your life is worth giving to avoid more bloodshed, I would honor your decision. To give your life for theirs has great honor, and I’d earnestly hope to see you in my next life.”
“But you don’t think I should go. I can tell,” Cassy said. “Otherwise, you would have said that. I don’t always agree with you, but I believe you always tell the truth as you see it.”
Choony said, “Peter’s kind is poisonous on the inside, and their poison withers everything it touches. I don’t think you believe his intentions either, not fully. And I think you came up here to talk yo
urself into going. You’re telling yourself that it’s for the good of your family—”
“It is,” Cassy interrupted.
“But sneaking out in the night doesn’t shout confidence,” Choony said. “It tells me, if I’m right about how you process information and decisions, that you have given up. You despair of victory, so for the sake of your family you will surrender and hope it goes well. I think you think that some chance is better than none. You want to believe in wishful thinking, but you find it’s harder than you expected. That’s why you came up here. Though whatever you decide, I think you know the deep honor I will hold you in.”
Cassy pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in frustration. “Dammit, Choony. You are as confusing as ever. What the hell should I do with that gem of wisdom? Of course I’d rather give my people a chance, any chance, even at the cost of my life.”
Choony didn’t reply at first. He chewed on his piece of straw, leaned back on both elbows, and sat in silence. Finally, he said, “Cassy, if you sneak out to surrender, coming from despair and fear, you only think you do it for your family. In fact, you would be doing it because you’ve given up, not because it was your Right Thing. If you do that, you only drive fear and despair into your people. You’re their leader, and they’ll follow your lead in whatever you do, but the fear that drove you to submit would infect them all. Do you suppose a man like Peter would miss such a change in their aura? If you don’t believe in auras, call it their ‘vibe’ or ‘energy’ or ‘body language,’ whatever. The point is, you may delay their doom by submitting, but you will practically guarantee it comes, and soon. That’s just how I see it, of course. What do I know? I’m just a chemistry major who won’t pick up a gun.”
It was Cassy’s turn to sit in silence for a while. Damn that Choony, he was probably right. About all of it. It was really hard to think clearly through all the fear, uncertainty, and doubt she felt dragging at every thought. She really would be taking a coward’s way out by surrendering, as counterintuitive as that felt. Would her people have the iron will to fight and persevere if she did what she’d intended? To be honest—and damn that Choony anyway for making her face it—she really had intended to sneak out and surrender with no one watching. Maybe she wanted to convince herself that her mind hadn’t been made up, but in her heart of hearts she knew the truth. And of course, Peter would strike hard when he saw the fear and confusion among the Clanners, no matter what his intentions were originally. If he’d ever intended to keep his word. Choony didn’t believe that and really, neither did Cassy.
