The Life After War Collection

by Angela White

  Rice let out a deep breath as they got out of earshot. “Be careful! The female master has protections here. If anything happens to her, other masters will take it out on everyone.”

  “By burning down the market?” Conner wanted to know. He was staring at the well-stocked balloon stand and working Pac-Man arcade in wonder. He hadn’t seen those signs of civilization since the war.

  Rice pointed at the signs on one entry wall. “They take pictures. That’s the first stop on the tour.”

  Kendle and Conner reluctantly approached the red brick wall, bracing for ugliness.

  Conner turned away first, unable to stand the images of children being hurt and burned alive. It was demoralizing. He stared at the dingy white tiles on the floor to avoid Rice’s knowing attitude.

  Kendle forced herself to view the entire set of pictures. Looking weak right now wasn’t an option. In fact, there was a chance they would be attacked and enslaved themselves when these so-called masters found out she didn’t have anything to trade. If Rice was wrong about their willingness to make a deal, they were in deep trouble. Magic would be their recourse.

  Kendle turned to Rice without a change in her facade.

  Rice gestured toward the opposite wall, where more signs waited. “All of them please.”

  Rooms with red doors are forbidden.

  Deliveries must follow the yellow lines outside to the loading dock. Have paperwork ready!

  Tour first. Bother the brokers last.

  Management is not responsible for any injuries, thefts, or deaths while you are in the market place or Market Town.

  Hours 7am – 7pm. Slaves are available every three days. Bidding starts at noon.

  “Is the next stop a demonstration?” Kendle asked curtly.

  “Yeah. Nice guess!” Rice bubbled. “Most people don’t get it that quickly.”

  Kendle and Conner both braced as they were led into a small section off the main entrance. Between the signs and Rice hurrying, they didn’t have much time to view the hallways.

  “These slaves have committed crimes against the masters,” Rice stated tonelessly.

  Kendle got the impression that he hated this part of the tour. When she scanned the chained men and women in various stages of abuse, so did she. The urge to act was powerful.

  Kendle put a hand on Conner’s arm, falling into a vague plan. “You wanted to come along and learn how to do this. Be still and learn it.”

  Rice’s body language was approving as he led them toward the door at their end of the hall entrance. “The next stop is last. Then we can tour until the time for slaving.”

  “When they sell them?” Kendle asked, ignoring Conner’s confusion. He would catch on to what she wanted.

  “Yes. There will be a crowd.”

  “Is it an auction?”

  “No.” Rice opened the door and held it. “The bids are private. Masters don’t like their wealth being announced, even to each other.”

  Kendle wanted to reply, but the inhabitants crammed into the zone glanced up with so much fear and misery that her stomach clenched. “Collateral?”

  “Yes. If you have to collect items to trade with, this is where your boy will stay.”

  Kendle swept the cramped, filthy people and the portable setups for waste and washing. “Will he be safe?”

  “Each day lessens the odds of it,” Rice admitted. “He is young enough to train, as you clearly know. He would be worth the lives of at least three adult men.”

  Kendle and Conner both frowned, for different reasons.

  “What happens if their family doesn’t come or fails to deliver?”

  “They become the property of the masters,” Rice explained, sounding angry for the first time.

  Kendle caught his fast glance toward the soldiers and then another swift, longing peek at a small group huddled in a far corner. Kendle judged it wise to wait until they were in the hallway before asking, “How many of them are yours?”

  “Later,” Rice ordered, taking them past the signs and into the first floor. Aware of the need to gawk, Rice put them along a wall so they didn’t block the path between the stalls and security booths. The guards didn’t like it when they couldn’t view the next post down the hall.

  After a moment, Kendle turned to Rice. “I want to see it all. Is there time before the bidding?”

  Rice peered up at the familiar round clock. “Noon is the opening for slaves and livestock.” His features brightened. “They give out free popcorn on slave days. That’s nice, right?”

  “Yep,” Kendle forced out, instead of the angry tirade that came to mind. “Show me everything. Don’t skip a single area.”

  Chapter Six

  Toured and Lured

  1

  “Who has control over this floor?” Kendle asked, scanning the nervous, depressed locals both mentally and physically. She hoped Conner wouldn’t, but there wasn’t a way to tell him not to without drawing attention to their hand code with this many people surrounding them. She wanted to save that for a surprise if it was needed.

  “The masters share control. Renda owns the slaves and the weapons wing. Iram owns the food and water, along with the health wing. Iram and Renda have shared control of everything else on this floor. Yuri is master of the upstairs level and everything there. Xavier owns the basement.”

  Rice led them down the hall, pointing out shops. “That’s the small café. It’s connected to the music lounge. You can get Ipods full of old tunes and coffee with hot rolls. It’s a great place to relax after laboring all day or traveling.”

  Rice sounded like he was giving a sales pitch.

  The shops had been remodeled to have glass windows, like a mall. It felt much like that old venue as Rice led them down the tiled halls.

  Kendle shook her head at Conner when he would have spoken. She didn’t know what he wanted to say, but until she had a firm plan in mind, he needed to be quiet.

  “Next is the dance club. The girls take turns entertaining the market customers. In exchange, they get a discount on supplies.”

  Kendle didn’t glance in the windows or open curtains where music and stench rolled out, but Conner gaped open-mouthed until they were by both shops.

  Kendle raised her hand to slap him in the back of the head, but lowered it. Cast iron frying pans had been trying to correct that reaction to breasts in guys for a long time, but it hadn’t succeeded. It was biology. Nothing changed that.

  Determined to get deeper into her role, Kendle said, “We could probably find the time, if you make your own deal.”

  Conner flushed. “No, thanks.”

  Kendle chuckled. “Suit yourself.”

  “Our girls are very clean,” Rice told Conner, not seeming to notice the boy’s red cheeks. “We mostly cater to women now, but the girls are eager to please.”

  Kendle was surprised to hear that. “Those shops are full of men?”

  “Yes.”

  Kendle swallowed and kept walking.

  Rice noticed. He steered them around groups of troops and townspeople exchanging paper and merchandise at an accounting table. Near it was another table with a tag that said “market broker”. “Normally you would make a deal with the broker, but only Renda deals for the slaves.”

  “How does the checkout work?”

  “Vendors on any floor will give you a ticket. You bring it to the broker and make a deal, except on slave trade days. The broker and the masters are all in the main section with the cashiers.”

  “Where did the masters come from?”

  “They were part of a UN training group that got stranded at Souther Field. Once they unloaded their trucks and crates, they took control.”

  “What happened to the airport?”

  “Burnt down when they took the first town. The masters don’t want to be stretched too thin.” Rice pointed. “Do you mind if we start downstairs? I have wagers to collect, I hope. I need to get to them before they spend their winnings.”

  Conner b
ristled at the implication that they’d made him miss viewing it in person.

  “We’re on your time until noon,” Kendle allowed.

  Rice led them to steep stairs with thick, sturdy rails. “After you.”

  Kendle and Conner took the steps down to the basement that had been remodeled to become one huge zone. It seemed endless from the bottom of the stairs.

  Conner gaped. “Is this what the real Vegas was like?”

  Kendle smiled a bit. “Yeah, but louder.”

  “You went?”

  “Regularly,” Kendle admitted. “My…sister, Dawn, had the bug. She liked roulette.”

  Conner heard the deep sorrow and felt yet another connection with Kendle. He also knew loss.

  Kendle went cold, eyes fixed on a far wall. Their two matching Tahoe trucks were behind a rope, labeled as prizes for a grand championship fight that hadn’t been scheduled yet.

  Kendle glowered at Rice. “How can I trade for my trucks if you’ve given them away?”

  “Make a deal with the winner, I guess,” Rice answered cheerfully. “Or you could fight for them. Anyone can enter the championship.”

  “No, thanks,” Kendle refused. She’d read the fine print. The championship was a bracket matchup that lasted for three days. She wasn’t going to be here that long.

  “Probably for the best,” Rice told her gently. “These matches can be to the death. You act like a hardass, but you can’t keep your end of the deal if you die.”

  Kendle was startled into a snicker at his ruthlessness. “Well, this will be a town to remember.”

  “Lady,” the local murmured, “you have no idea how right you are.”

  Left without a response, she and Conner followed Rice deep into the glittery basement of the Americus City High School.

  “Wait here,” Rice instructed, pointing toward the corner with the row of slot machines. “I won’t be long.”

  Kendle turned to her right and began to walk. Conner stayed five feet behind and tried not to be distracted by the bells and clangs, the lights and flashy décor.

  Kendle strolled by the row of wide oval tables where the middle class sat drinking and playing. She suspected most of their winnings would pay off current tabs for the expensive clothes and accessories. The tables reeked of desperation and thievery.

  Next to these tables was a small rope partitioning off tournament booths where half a dozen men remained. Or only that many had shown up, Kendle corrected her impression, discerning dusty places on the floor without footprints.

  In the center, where bright banners draped the ceiling to frame a long rectangle area, there were three divided areas. The first one she walked by held two tired cocks pecking at each other. There was a crowd around that ring, but most of them were guards trying to control a handler who wanted to jump in and beat his bird.

  In the middle was a huge ring waiting for a later event. The mat was layered in thin dust. The far end held a plastic tub with two scrawny females scratching at each other while the referee sprayed them with water. Few people, male or female, were paying attention.

  Kendle came to the end of the basement and the stairs that would take her to level one, and turned left to finish her circuit. The arcades along that short wall were tempting. She’d loved arcades. She didn’t let the set of pool tables draw a reaction either. She’d also been good at that, as well as the variety of throwing games that had been nailed to the walls.

  An empty oval counter with ropes was the single attraction along the opposite wall and Kendle returned to the entrance in disappointment. This is post-war entertainment?

  She found Rice at the broker table in front of the animal ring, arguing about the amount, and took the stairs without telling him. Right now she needed a few minutes away.

  Conner swept the electronic dartboards in longing as they left, wondering if the empty popcorn machine next to them worked. If he had something to trade and their team was safe, he would come here and spend half a day playing. He missed being able to do things like that without worrying all the time.

  Kendle understood, but it was yet another example of the wisdom of age. Youth would take the first flashy thing that came, feeling as though there might never be anything better. Age waited for the quality version because they’d been around enough to know which one was more satisfying over the long run. Conner would learn that lesson in time, if he survived. Kendle was suddenly positive that he would. The kid was smart and tough.

  Wanting to avoid the masters as long as she could, Kendle kept going up the empty stairs, avoiding the first floor. She didn’t want to get in Renda’s way again until she had a solid plan.

  Signs and warnings were written on and nailed to all of the walls in the stairwell, including a large one at the top of the stairs that told them not to steal or they would become slaves. Kendle didn’t plan on it. Rice had given her a description of what was up here. If she got lucky, this floor might be productive.

  Conner was still reading the signs as Kendle went into the hall, lingering on the fading poster board that advertised happy hour and live entertainment. That spelled party for him.

  The pair emerged into a dim hall on the top floor that reeked of sweet smells and soft music.

  “Is that…pizza?” Conner asked, sniffing the air like a dog.

  Kendle motioned toward an adjacent section. The name of the café wasn’t discernible, but the words “Food, Drinks, Snacks” were flashing in neon lighting.

  Kendle turned them away from the café, stomach growling. She took the opposite hall to make the circuit, noting a plumbing stall and a gardening shop. As she neared the end of the first long side, she found a tool store and a communications stand, where radios and batteries were on display behind a small locked cage. She was informed that those were only for the masters and guards to trade.

  The corners of this second floor held stacks of washers and dryers, with pipes and hoses stretched out like snakes. Kendle stepped carefully, as did everyone else who traveled the damp hall.

  Along the shortest red wall was an actual tailoring shop and a hairdresser, both with fencing fastened over the entire front of the booths. She assumed it was too early for those businesses to expect customers. Dawn’s break was an hour gone.

  Nearby, a security post was shoved into the corner. It was empty, surprising her. The basement and first floor had heavy protection. Why not up here?

  Kendle refused to hurry as she hit the other long side and found the upstairs entertainment section. There were girls for rent, men on chains, and a theater with popcorn smells flowing from the open doors. Vague, hard-hitting music beats echoed through the closed spaces.

  Conner gaped with longing and curiosity.

  At the end of this hall was a red door. Kendle avoided it.

  In the center of the upstairs were the living quarters and cubbies for rent. It appeared that all of them had been added or remodeled to provide the spaces without regard for comfort. Most of them were open, revealing emptiness.

  “I need to go,” Conner whispered, coming to her.

  Kendle sighed. So did she.

  “Do you suppose those are for the public?” he asked, pointing to the restrooms next to the door that was off limits.

  Kendle glanced around for someone to ask, but the second floor was deserted. She shrugged. “Let’s find out. Stay together.”

  Bracing, Kendle took him into the men’s john to spare him, but there was no one inside for her to embarrass. She hurried, hoping he did too.

  After checking the few stalls, Kendle went to the exit. “I’m nearby.”

  “Okay.”

  Kendle found a fairly clean place along the wall to wait for him, thinking about getting tissue from the roll, while under real lights, had been nice. The electricity downstairs had drawn the same emotions, just not as strongly.

  “Funny the things you miss,” she muttered.

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

  Kendle jumped, moving away from the wall. S
he swept the hall but didn’t detect anyone. “Where are you?”

  A short, squat man wearing pants and shorts the exact shade of red as the bricks stepped forward with his hand out. “You need a room? I have rooms.” His black boots and greasy black beard gleamed in the dimness.

  Recognizing him from the description she’d been given, Kendle shook his hand. “You must be Yuri.”

  The furry male dimpled in happiness. “Yes!” He motioned at the nearest open cubicle for rent. “Come!”

  Kendle stayed in the doorway so that Conner would see her as soon as he came from the restroom, but it was also as far as she needed to go. It was a small square with nice furniture and threadbare blankets and pillows.

  “You can have this for cheap,” Yuri told her. “You stay, huh?”

  Kendle inspected the faded signs and dusty floors of the section around them. “You’ll run a tab.”

  “Tab?” Yuri pouted. “People never pay them. No tabs.”

  “Okay.”

  Conner came over with a deep frown when he saw there was a man with her. “You all right?”

  Kendle ignored the question, studying Yuri. His eyes had widened at spotting Conner. She could almost hear his wheels turning.

  “The boy,” Yuri demanded. “My best cubby, with food and care for your stay.”

  “For the duration?” Kendle asked.

  Conner glared at her in hurt surprise.

  “Yes, yes. He is worth much to the slave master.”

  Conner paled.

  “Will you accept him as collateral on my tab?”

  Yuri’s face scrunched into concentration as he considered it. His hand came up to his brow, stroking… “You would pay it off or give me the boy?”