Dead States | Year Zero | Nebraska

by Marty Brockschmidt

  Mac chuckled. “I already decided we need to bury the old woman. It doesn't seem right to just leave her sitting on the porch. It will take some time to dig a grave with the ground frozen.”

  “Good. I just want to get some food in him and make sure his plumbing is working.” Gael replied.

  They spent the night taking turns keeping watch over Dog, as Gael was calling the Lab. Around midnight Mac was successful in getting Dog to drink on his own. Shortly before dawn, Gael made a broth by adding finely sliced jerky to some warm water. Dog lapped it upped greedily and when it was gone, he looked up at Gael and licked his chops.

  Gael laughed quietly. “Alright, but just one more bowl, your stomach, it is not used to food yet.”

  Mac awoke shortly after daybreak to see Gael at the door, putting on his coat, with Dog standing next to him. “He's bouncing back, I see.”

  “Si, he stood up and was whining, I think he has to pee.” Gael picked up Dog. “Still, he cannot walk as of yet.”

  Mac hurried over. “Here, let me help you with the door.”

  Gael stepped out the door. “Gracias. There is some oatmeal and coffee on the stove.”

  Mac grinned. “Gracias, right back at ya.”

  Mac waited at the door, as he ate his breakfast. When Gael, returned with Dog, he set him down near the stove and gave Mac a thumbs up. Shortly after Mac went out to dig a grave for the woman as Gael fed Dog, powdered eggs and jerky. Finding tools in the shed behind the cottage, Mac walked down to the garden to dig the grave. He reasoned digging may be a bit easier there and from its appearance it seemed a place of importance to the woman.

  The woman, was frozen in a seated position and Mac was damned if he would desecrate her body to make digging the grave easier. About three hours later, he had the 'L' shaped grave ready. Back at the house, he wrapped the woman's body in the comforter from her bed. Pulling his knife, he jammed it into the side of her head, just to be sure she didn't spend the spring thaw, clawing at the ground. Gael, found some paperwork with the woman's name and carved a simple marker, that read, 'R.I.P Hattie Crowley'.

  That afternoon, Gael made a spot in a sled for Dog to ride. Mac, as he had done nearly every day since they left the Mission, brought out his radio and tried to receive the message from Fort Custer. This time there was something different to the static and he moved up to the loft, hoping for better reception. Turning the radio on again and making slight adjustments to the tuning he was rewarded with, 'This is Fort Custer in Battle Creek Michigan, playing this automated message in a continuous loop. We are offering support to any and all survivors.'

  The message completed to the end and Mac promptly dialed in the call back frequency. “Hello, this is Ivan McPherson, can you hear me?”

  Only static greeted him and Mac repeated. “Hello, this is Ivan McPherson, is anyone there?”

  A bit crackly and distorted the reply came. “Mister McPherson, how are you faring?”

  Mac let loose a sigh of relief. “I hope that offer of help is sincere, cause my people are in a world of shit.”

  Mac waited for a reply and counted to ten, three times before the gauged response came. “Sorry to hear that, can you elaborate?”

  Mac took a deep breath. “I hope you got some time and this connection hangs in there.”

  As quick as he could he told the person at the other end, about Colonel Osgood and the town they had built in Nebraska. He told them how General Mathias Mayhue came and took over his town. His free hand clenched in anger as he relayed the murder of Carol and her baby Eddie and the assault on his daughters and Crystal. Moving on he told of his escape, but decided to leave out his retaliation on the soldiers. Mac went on to tell of his travel to White Sands, to search for Sergeant Andrews, only to find the Sergeant's men cruelly murdered, by Mayhue and Sergeant Andrews missing.

  “White Sands is where I caught your message and I've been on the road ever since, hoping you could help.” Mac finished.

  This time Mac counted to ten, five times and was halfway to the sixth. “My commander would like to meet you. When do you think you can reach the Battle Creek rest area on 94, marker 96?”

  “I know it well. Give me five days more or less, I'll call when I'm close.” Mac replied.

  As the operator, ended the transmission, Lieutenant Colonel Amanda Paige turned to her second in command. “Boone, ask Dakota to meet our new acquaintance. Then give me a plan to get us to Nebraska.”

  “So you believe this McPherson then?” Boone questioned.

  Boone could see the emotion in his Commander's eyes, but her tone was controlled. “We'll look him in the eye first, but I know what breed of animal Mayhue is. If McPherson is on the level, I hope we arrive in time.”

  Chapter 20 – Wrath

  In the days following Joe Gant's death, attacks on the men of Timshel increased. The routine, started with Smiley managing to isolate one of the men at work and taunting, the man into taking a swing at him. Other soldiers would appear and begin beating the man. Percy was able to rescue Chet, from a more serious beating. Wading into the middle of the fracas and using his own body as a shield, from the kicks and punches, he guided Chet away. Young Bobby Smith's father, Robert, was the first to be beaten to death, leaving Bobby an orphan. Each day after that the community lost another man.

  Fear and frustration were running in equal measure, the morning that Bob Ryker and his wife, Angie, didn't show up for breakfast call. Bill Parson, was the first to notice the Ryker's absence. Sergeant Redding was missing this morning as well. Corporal Smeils was standing in his spot instead, beaming that stupid, Cheshire cat, grin.

  Bill walked up to Smiley. “Where are the Ryker's?”

  “The what, who?” Smiley asked, his grin getting even broader.

  “Bob and Angie Ryker. Where are they?” Bill said slowly, struggling to keep his anger in check.

  “Weren't my job to shake em out of bed, cowboy.” Smiley taunted.

  Bill looked Smiley straight in the eye. “Every time something bad happens to someone around here, you are in the middle of it. I figure you know something.”

  “That is an unfriendly accusation there partner. It hurts my feelings. Tell you what. Why don't you and I go knock on there door together?” Smiley offered.

  Joyce and Crystal, fearing what would happen, stepped up together, with Crystal speaking first. “Maybe Doc and I, should go with you. In case one of them is ill.”

  At a motion from Smiley other soldiers stepped up to block their way. “Noper, noper, noper. Wouldn't be right. This feller is the one concerned about those two, he's the one that needs to go.”

  Smiley took hold of Bill's arm and guided him outside. As soon as they were outside Smiley gave Bill a rough push towards Beast, waiting for whomever Smiley brought out. Beast leveled a solid punch at Bill's face, as a group of soldiers formed a ring around the two. Bill wanted to fight back, to get in a few good licks, but that way was certain death. Bill brought his hands and arms to defensively block as many blows as he could and hold a slim grasp on life.

  Sergeant Redding exited the building where Bob Ryker and his wife resided and immediately saw the ring of soldiers. Breaking into a run, he shouldered his way into the ring, to see Beast squatting on Bill's chest, vigorously trying to beat his way past Bill's arms and smash his face. Stu caught Beast by the throat and threw him off Bill.

  Bending down, Stu grabbed Bill's arm and whispered. “You gotta get up now.”

  Half guiding and half carrying, Stu got Bill into the community room. Doc was the first to move and pulling over a chair, he helped Bill to sit down. Joyce and Crystal were the next to come over to Bill, with Joyce taking hold of one of Bill's battered hands. Crystal found it hard to look at Bill and even harder to look at the crowd. Everyday, the plan to hold on until Mac returned with help, grew less and less realistic. However, every moment of every day armed soldiers were in their midst, any opposition would be a slaughter on this town.

  Smiley and his men, e
ntered the community room, causing Sergeant Redding to question their actions. “You got business here Corporal?”

  Smiley replied casually. “Sarge, we're just killin time, you might say, until the General arrives to make his announcement.”

  The tension in the room was palpable as Sergeant Redding ordered. “Then wait in the lobby.”

  Smiley replied amicably. “Sure thing. We'll be back when the General gets here.”

  Ignoring the veiled threat, Stu, turned to Doc. “Does this man need to be moved to the clinic?”

  Doc recognized the factions within the ranks of the Soldiers, we're becoming lopsided against the Sergeant. “He probably, has a concussion and could stand some rest, but I don't see a need to move him at the moment.”

  Bill squeezed Joyce's hand and through his swollen lips, reassured her. “Not the first time I had my bell rung. I'm better than I look.”

  Joyce teared, her heart going out to him. “You look just fine to me Bill.”

  Further conversation was cut off when a haggard Tobin entered the community room, pushing a cart laden with trays of food. He was followed by a handful of soldiers, also pushing carts of breakfast food. Crystal had not seen her husband in weeks, immediately left Bill's side and ran to Tobin.

  Tobin wrapped his arms around his wife. “You're so thin.”

  Crystal chuckled, trying to make light of his concern. “Well hello to you to.”

  Tobin's hand slid over his wife's baby bump to greet their child. “How's our little one.”

  Crystal covered his hand with hers. “She is doing fine. Doc is keeping a close on the two of us. How have things been for you?”

  Tobin hung his head and spoke quietly. “Probably better than for all of you. I've missed you so much, I couldn't stand being alone anymore.”

  With so many eyes on the two of them, Crystal only gave Tobin a quick kiss. “I've needed you to Sweetheart.”

  Tobin looked at her sadly. “I'm downright ashamed of what I've agreed to do, but I did it so we could be together.”

  Crystal wanted to query him on what he meant, but Sergeant Redding called out. “Attention, Commander in the room.”

  All the soldiers snapped to attention as General Mayhue swaggered into the community room, outfit in his full dress uniform. His medals, buttons and shoes were shined to a high gloss. Belted at his waist were the matching pair of revolvers, he had confiscated from Matt Brenner. The matched 1911's were a gift from Matt's father in-law, Colonel Osgood. As the General came in Sara Parsons moved herself in position, hoping to catch his eye.

  Sergeant Redding helped Bill to his feet and called. “Everyone rise.”

  The General paused slightly to glance at the beaten and bloodied, Bill Parsons. A faint smile briefly appeared on his face and just as quickly vanished. Two standard bearers followed the General. Their matching flags, were a black field, with a white globe in the center. The continents for the globe were also in black and there was a blood red 'M' on North America. The white globe was surrounded by a ring of blood red, crossed swords. Reaching the front of the room the General turned to face the throng. The standard bearers took positions on either side and slightly behind the General.

  The General returned the salute of his men and paused briefly before commanding. “Company at ease.”

  The General looked out at the people of Timshel. “I'll keep this brief. Before I begin, your Mister Ryker, had passed during the night and when he turned, he attacked his wife. Sergeant Redding dispatched their corpses. A burial detail will be assembled this morning.”

  Crystal looked at the Sergeant, to gauge his reaction, but his face was set like stone as the General continued. “I know this has been hard. I want you to understand it is necessary. The world has descended into chaos and the only thing standing against that chaos is me. With my men I will bring order to the world. You may not always understand the sacrifices being asked of you, just know they are necessary. My men are conditioned to a more rigorous routine and I know that riding out this winter has caused them to act out. There are still many weeks of winter left, before my men can deal with the lawless hordes. I need their heads in the game. The good Sergeant, is a stern disciplinarian, but sometimes a gentler touch can be more effective. I will be requiring ten of you to serve as Courtesans to my troops.”

  Jillian turned to Nana and asked quietly. “What is a cour...courtesan?”

  Sara Parsons overheard and answered for Nana. “Its a whore dummy. With your background, I'd guess your a prime candidate.”

  Jillian had no idea what a candidate was either, but she knew that Sara meant to be hurtful. “I may not be so smart, but I know enough not to be mean.”

  From the back of the room Hazel quipped. “Damn Honey, why didn't you speak up sooner. Hell I'll take one for the team.”

  Nervous laughter broke out around her, but the General quelled it. “Mister Smeils, assemble those I've selected.”

  Smiley made a big show identifying the women selected. He went up to each one, bowed and extended his hand. It quickly became obvious that not taking his hand and being directed to the front of the room, was not an option. It was also clear that some care was taken in making the choices. The women were all technically adults, though some just barely. None of the women, had a spouse or children.

  When Smiley went up to Jillian, Nana tried to protest. “Not her, she doesn't understand any of this.”

  Jillian took Smiley's hand. “It's okay. I know what they are going to do to me. Mommy always said I was a tough cookie, they can't hurt me, not really. It is better me than MK.”

  Smiley went to Joyce next and she didn't even allow Bill time to protest. “Sweetheart, do not even ask me to watch you get beaten to death.”

  Once the ten women had assembled at the front of the room, standing with their hands locked, General Mayhue finished his address. “The Empire thanks you women for your service.”

  The General paused trying to read the room, but the townspeople regardless of how they felt, kept their faces blank. General Mayhue clapped his hands together. “So, in light of your cooperation and hard work, I've decided to cancel all but the most necessary work details today. Enjoy the meal Mister Grey has prepared. Together, we will bring order out of chaos.”

  As the General prepared to leave Sergeant Redding called. “Attention” Then once the General had left he called. “Diiismissed.”

  Cynthia Cavendish, who had been selected with her daughter Amelia to serve as courtesans, followed the General out. “Uhh, General. Sir. May I have a word. Please.”

  General Mayhue, paused, scowled in irritation, but when he turned his expression was blank. “Yes Miss, what do you require.”

  Cynthia laughed and smiled broadly. “Its been awhile since I've been called a Miss. A few minutes of your time, privately, is all I ask.”

  The General headed to the office space, used by Stu Redding. “Will this suffice?”

  Cynthia followed him in and closed the door. “Thank you, this is fine. I won't be long, I promise.”

  General Mayhue nodded. “I'm waiting.”

  Cynthia looked down gathering her thoughts, then raised her head looking directly at the General. “For whatever reason, I have a look that men desired. I had learned early on, to detach myself from the act, to gain something for myself. These young women you've selected to be used by your men, are not experienced. We're not kidding ourselves about what will be happening, but these girls are not experienced prostitutes either. I'm just asking that you have your men, keep that in mind.”

  General Mayhue squinted quizzically. “Can you be a bit more explicit as to what you are asking?”

  Cynthia took a notepad and wrote some cryptic notes. “Please tell your men not to ask these things of the ladies and it should go without saying, no hitting.”

  The General took a look at the paper and smiled broadly at Cynthia. “Thank you, I'll make this happen. Is there anything else?”

  Cynthia shook her head. “N
o. Not unless you can call this whole thing off.”

  The General ignored her attempt at humor. “My men have their needs to.”

  The General opened the door to let Cynthia out and waved Corporal Smeils over. Once Smeils was in the office the General closed the door and handed Cynthia's note to him.

  Smiley asked. “What's this Sir?”

  General Mayhue replied. “Make sure the men treat the ladies nice. That is a list of things they may not ask of them.”

  Smiley glanced at the list and his grin faded. “This is going to take some of the fun out of tonight, Sir.”

  General Mayhue's gaze was resolute. “You questioning my orders, Corporal?”

  Smiley snapped to attention. “No Sir, General Sir.”

  General Mayhue smiled wickedly. “Good. The woman that just left, I need you to deliver a message to her. She needs to learn that I set the rules here. She, experiences everything on that list.”