by J. G. Martin
Derek and Rora took the boat across to the bayous of Louisiana at night to avoid the U.S.T.G. patrols from Pensacola. The Voice alerted them several times to boats nearby. Each time they cut the motor and drifted in silence until the other boat moved away. It took longer that way, but it enabled them to get to Louisiana near the flooded out remains of New Orleans without anyone detecting them. Derek navigated up the bayous and further inland rather than try to land in New Orleans.
New Orleans had survived the Collapse, but the terrible weather during the Aftermath had overwhelmed the levees and flooded the city. A full blown category 5 hurricane, Hurricane Linda, had roared almost straight inland at New Orleans. A thirty five foot storm surge powered by winds gusting up to two hundred miles per hour had roared inland. The flood system and levees had failed spectacularly and the city had suffered record flooding and vast portions of it were leveled. Without the funds or the support to clean up the city and fix the levees like after Katrina, the city had remained partially submerged. Disease and Drinkers had finished off all but the most hardy and stubborn survivors. It was essentially now a ghost town.
The Cajuns in the bayous had fared better since they were more resilient than the city dwellers. Many of them still roamed the swampy waters hunting gators and sometimes human prey to survive. The Order had made arrangements with many of them and they acted as the eyes and ears on the southeastern flank of the Order’s territory. Derek motored along slowly to be as quiet as possible so they could get inland to infiltrate the Order. Several times they passed well lit shanty towns on the river banks with people drinking and carrying on.
They had a close call when a drunken man spotted them as he took a leak into the river. But he merely waved at them and they waved back. Through luck and help from the Voice they managed to get to a small abandoned landing near Gardere, LA. From there they could hike to Baton Rouge, which was a major Order recruiting site and the location of the drug lab. They concealed the boat and stored most of their gear in it. Derek had them leave all of their weapons and extra equipment. They took only the bare minimum to survive on and carried the rifles and pistols they had taken from the Cartel guards.
“Why aren’t we taking all of our gear?” Rora had inquired.
“We want the Order to think we are desperate recruits, not well equipped and well-armed merks. They prey on the desperate and ignorant, so we need to fit that mold to get in.” He explained.
“What if someone takes it?”
“We’ll have bigger problems than that because we need the boat to get back.”
“We could just walk away from this and go off on our own together.” Rora suggested.
“Rora, you need to have the safety NASA provides. No matter how much you have learned, it is brutal out here. Even I’m going to eventually run out of luck and get killed. Why struggle every day to survive if you don’t have to?” Derek explained gently.
He took her silence as agreement and finished covering the boat. Someone would have to be right on top of it to see it, and the area looked undisturbed. So it was unlikely anyone would just happen by. As dawn broke they headed north towards Baton Rouge. They walked along abandoned and deteriorating roads for most of the day until they reached the outskirts. They had seen very little life along the way and almost no signs of human habitation. Howls had indicated wild dogs in the area, but they hadn’t seen any.
Baton Rouge was virtually deserted but they could see the signs of the Order’s presence. Large red banners with a white circle and the Order’s circle cross symbol hung from the sides of buildings. There were also large posters of the leader of the Order, Fuhrer Joseph Wessel. Derek had heard the man was a used car salesman before the Collapse. He didn’t have any trouble believing that looking at the man’s pictures. Wessel had greasy black hair combed back on his head, an oily smile, and a ridiculous little mustache that he probably thought made him look like Hitler.
Despite looking deserted, the streets had been cleared of cars and were surprisingly free of trash or debris. All the intact buildings were boarded up securely and there was no graffiti. There was evidence of vehicles regularly passing along the streets, probably some sort of patrol. One of those patrols found them as they got closer to town. A large, heavily armored SUV converted to a technical with a heavy machine gun on top rolled slowly to a stop in front of them as they walked down the street. It was painted black with the red banner logo on the doors and hood. A man with a shaved head and wearing a gray uniform manned the gun. He kept it trained on them as he spoke.
“Welcome to the New American Reich. What can we do for y’all today?” The man drawled in a deep southern accent.
“We heard y’all had a good thing going here for whites only and we wanted to join up.” Derek called, mimicking the southern drawl.
“You look like good whites, but we don’t take just anyone. There is a recruiting rally tonight at City Park. Keep heading north to the university and then follow the signs to I-10. If the recruiters likes y’all, we might let y’all in. We find y’all again anywhere other than the park we will shoot you and take the girl.” The man said as he leered at Rora.
“Thanks, we will go there right now.” Derek replied obsequiously and dragged a grossed out Rora down the street.
“Nasty.” She muttered under her breath.
Derek agreed, but they needed to play the part of desperate survivors until they were in. The Order was obviously much more organized than he had realized and it seemed like they had plans for their territory. They were building a viable state not just acting as simple warlords. That did set them apart from the other violent thugs out there, but it also begged the question of who was really behind it all. He had a hard time believing that the U.S.T.G. would accept another contender to the throne since they ultimately claimed the entire continent as rightful territory. Why hadn’t the U.S.T.G. or Texas wiped these guys out?
He pondered this as they walked to the recruiting rally at the park in town. They followed the directions and got to the edge of the park at dusk. They had encountered other people as they got closer. Some had been survivors like they were supposed to be, but a number had been Cajun teenagers. Everyone seemed excited to be going as there was rumored to be food and beer being provided for free.
Order troops at the entrance to the park forced everyone to surrender their weapons and then searched them. It looked like they were also checking to make sure everyone was white. He saw a couple of people with darker complexions pulled off to the side and then dragged away. He couldn’t do anything and no one else seemed to notice, so he had to let it go. Everyone who passed inspection was given a white wristband and allowed into the park.
The crowd swelled as they entered the park. Torches placed along the edge of the park provided some light. But the massive bonfire that was piled at least ten feet high and had flames shooting thirty plus feet into the air provided the most light. It had a stage with burning crosses on either side placed in front of it. A tattooed skinhead hate metal group played furiously on the stage, sweating in the heat. The music roared out of speakers with a deep throbbing beat. People danced to the heavy beat, stomping about wildly like the Bushwhackers in the old WWF. A mosh pit directly in front of the stage contained the more violent and aggressive guests.
To one side were tables with Order recruiters passing out food and drinks. Derek could see them handing out pamphlets as well, so he grabbed one. They extolled the virtues of the pure state of the New American Reich. It talked about the abundant food, safe water, free healthcare, and the security it offered. Blah, blah, blah. The U.S.T.G. had promised the same things. That’s why Derek had joined them. But it had all been a lie. Yes, you got some of those things but you had to give up your freedom and possibly sell your soul.
He could see that many of the people were buying in to it from the fervent looks on their faces. If they signed up they were being given red armbands with the logo on it. He noticed buses sitting in the parking lot. After the
rally, those volunteers would be taken to some sort of indoctrination camp and turned into loyal members of the Reich. That path wouldn’t get them near the drug lab. They needed another way in.
Looking around the park, Derek noticed that there were Black Jackets posted around the perimeter to provide security. One of them in particular caught his eye. He was the largest man at the gathering. The man looked to be about six foot three inches tall and was heavily muscled. He didn’t have a neck due to his heavily muscled shoulders and he had the look of a compulsive weightlifter and juicer compensating for other shortcomings. The man had removed his jacket and wore only a white wife-beater that revealed arms completely covered in white power and Nazi tattoos. The firelight shone on his shaved head and revealed a face that was handsome and unmarked and he had an arrogant smile; one that said he thought himself superior to everyone else here. He was the alpha male and he knew it. A classic bully if ever Derek had seen one.
“Time to get noticed.” Derek informed Rora and headed towards the man.
“What are you doing?” She hissed.
“We have to show we have something to offer that the others here don’t. I’m going show them something they can’t ignore.” He said with a smile.
Derek approached the big bully slowly and deliberately. He stopped directly in front of the man and looked him in the eyes. The man gave him a nasty smile and leaned in slightly.
“Keep moving. You don’t want me to get angry.” The man informed Derek.
“What is that smell?” Derek asked no one in particular. “It smells like a goat mated with a dog.”
The man lost his smile and Rora backed up a few steps as he moved closer to Derek. He poked Derek in the chest with a meaty finger.
“You better move on or I’m going to rip your head off.” The bully coldly warned him.
“You can try meathead.” Derek taunted him.
The man’s expression darkened and he bunched his muscles in anticipation of a fight. “Last chance, dumbass. I’m not going to warn you again. Get out of here.”
Derek smiled and didn’t back off. The man might be very large and well-muscled but based on the lack of damage to his face or ears he hadn’t been in a real fight. His size had probably intimidated everyone else so he hadn’t needed to fight. The fact that Derek wasn’t backing off and wasn’t scared had him worried. That was why he was warning Derek instead of just kicking his butt. Time to move this along.
He shoved the big man backwards startling him. Instinctively the man shoved him back. Derek saw the crowd begin to gather in his peripheral vision and heard the “fight” chant begin. Humans might have become very technologically advanced but they were still primitive at heart. Any chance for bloodshed attracted a crowd. Derek grinned and shrugged off his jacket. He raised his hands and prepared for a fight.
The crowd encircled the two combatants and began to grow in size and intensity. Remarkably the band hadn’t stopped playing. If anything they were playing loader and more insistently. The chants rang out in time with the growing beat.
“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! FIGHT!” The crowd screamed.
Trapped by the crowd and needing to save face, the Order thug bull rushed Derek. He sidestepped and used a rolling hip toss to throw the man to the ground. The man struck the ground hard but rolled to his feet. Now he was angry and his fear fled. Derek nodded and smiled. This was going to be a good fight. He quickly closed the distance and launched a barrage of punches at the slightly stunned man. The blows rocked the brute but he didn’t go down. He fired back with wild abandon and they stood toe to toe in the center of the screaming crowd furiously exchanging blows.
They fed off the increasing frenzy of the crowd, raining blows onto each other to the beat of the heavy metal music. Neither man gave an inch as they battled it out. Derek lost track of how many punches he had thrown and how many he was receiving and lost himself in the glory of the moment. He only came back to reality when he realized that he wasn’t being hit anymore and the crowd was going crazy. He looked down to see the Order goon lying unconscious in a pool of his own blood. The man’s face was a bloody mess with his eyes swelling shut and his nose broken.
Derek could feel blood trickling down his face from a cut above his eye. His face felt slightly swollen and he assumed he would have at least one black eye tomorrow. The fight had been short but brutal. He had not used any of his martial arts skills because he had wanted to showcase his toughness not outclass the thug. The crowd was jumping up and down with excitement and many were daring to push in and slap him on the back or shake his hand. Then suddenly floodlights kicked on illuminating the park in their harsh light.
The music stopped and the crowd parted as the rest of the Black Jackets pushed their way through the crowd and started breaking it up. One went to tend to their fallen champion while several others held Derek at gun point. They kept their M4 carbines trained on him as an older man with short slicked back hair in a nicer uniform approached him. The uniform was reminiscent of Nazi uniforms from WW2 and could have been a replica SS uniform. It even had the brass double thunderbolt pins on the lapels. The insignia indicated that the man was a captain in rank, but Derek was unaware that they had organized into a military hierarchy. Obviously there was a lot about the Order that was unknown or inaccurate.
“What is going on here? Why did you attack Sergeant Rickman?” The officer demanded.
“He attacked me; he was messing with my woman.” Derek smoothly lied.
The officer looked around for confirmation and several of the Black Jackets nodded that the bully had indeed started the fight. He turned and examined Derek, looking him up and down, like one might examine a horse they were about to buy. He paid particular attention to Derek’s shirt. Then the officer walked around Derek and hummed to himself. He came to stop directly in front of Derek and addressed him.
“Born to Fight eh? I suppose you proved that with the sergeant here.” He said as he pointed to the fallen bully. “But are you truly willing to Die Fighting as the back of your shirt says?”
“Yes sir!” Derek said forcefully.
“Where are you from?” The officer asked.
“Baltimore originally.” Derek lied.
“Really? How did you survive the bombs?”
“I was on a school trip. I knew my family was dead so I have been looking out for myself ever since. But I heard you would take on good white folks to help fight the mud people, so I came here.” Derek continued to lie.
“That is true. We do need good white people dedicated to our cause.” The officer responded. “But why should I take you?”
“You saw what I did to your man, and I’m good with a gun too. The mud people made our country weak and caused the Collapse. My family wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for them.” Derek said enthusiastically hard selling the lie.
The officer nodded and gestured at Derek to his men. “Bring him to the barracks. The commandant will want to talk to him personally. Drag that freak Rickman back there too.”
“What about my woman?” Derek asked.
“Bring her too.” The captain called over his shoulder.
The interview concluded the officer left accompanied by several Black Jackets. A few of them hustled Derek and Rora to a waiting truck and pushed them in. The still unconscious body of the Black Jacket bully was tossed in shortly thereafter. As the truck drove away, Derek could hear the music start up again as the rally resumed.
Chapter 14
June 19, 2029
Order Barracks in Baton Rouge, LA
The truck took them to a heavily fortified warehouse complex along the river. Two chain link fences topped with razor wire surrounded the complex and guards with German Shepherds patrolled on a path between the two. More troops in sandbagged machine gun nests guarded the gate. They seemed alert, but simply waved the truck through without inspecting it. It rolled to a stop in the empty space between the warehouses. Floodlights lit up the whole complex. The Black Jacke
ts pushed them out of the truck and dragged the barely conscious and incapacitated bully out. He moaned in pain as they carried him off.
Derek looked around at the complex. There were three large warehouses directly along the riverfront with docks and slips for boats to unload and load complete with small cranes. The slips were currently empty but looked like they received heavy use. Two towering buildings made of brick that looked like old office buildings ran parallel to the warehouses on the street side. A guard was stationed at each entrance to the warehouses but not the office buildings. A large building that looked like a vehicle garage was located along the west side of the complex. A small marina next to the docks completed the complex. It had several small patrol boats tied up and no guards. It seemed quiet for a major drug lab.
One of their escorts shoved him towards the nearest office building. “Corporal Michaels here will take you to your quarters. Stay there until the morning and someone will come and get you. Make sure you are cleaned up and presentable.” He ordered them as he gestured towards a young man in a Black Jacket uniform.
The young man waved for them to follow and headed in to the office building. He led them through a very quiet building that almost seemed abandoned. It was very clean and well lit. Derek could see through open doors that it was being used as a barracks and they passed several common rooms with a few men quietly studying books or playing cards. All of them were in various states of undress but it was obvious they were Black Jacket recruits. Derek was impressed at the discipline demonstrated. Most “barracks” in the world following the Aftermath were wild places full of drinking, gambling, and fights. These guys were definitely more organized than anyone realized.
They went up several flights of stairs and finally reached a set of rooms in the corner of the building. These rooms were much more Spartan and looked as if they might lock from the outside. They reached their room and the young Black Jacket opened the door. But before he could turn around, Derek seized him from behind and placed him in a rear naked choke hold. Their guide struggled briefly before falling unconscious. Derek dragged him into the room and shut the door.
