by J. G. Martin
“Who are the guys with all the piercings?”
“Rapture Cultists. They are hedonists who believe that they may die tomorrow so they need to live it up today. They like to party, so this place would be like heaven for them, pardon the pun. Most are heavy drug users and rather mindless. The piercing are some sort of expressionism I’ve never figured out.”
“What about the guy in the white suit?” Rora asked while pointing at him.
Derek pushed her finger down before answering. “Don’t point, attracting attention is considered rude and could get you killed. That is a Preacher. He is a missionary for the Reborn Catholic Church. They travel around trying to convert people to their faith and reject the ways of sin that led to the Collapse. It is very unusual to see one of them in a place like this.”
As he said it, the Preacher jumped on stage and tried to cover up one of the girls. That was met with loud jeers and even a few thrown bottles. The two struggled on stage for a minute before bouncers came out and dragged him away screaming. Derek and Rora couldn’t hear him over the music, but Derek assumed it was a hellfire and brimstone speech about how everyone here was going to hell. He laughed to himself. Weren’t they already in it?
After he finished his beer, Derek got up. He was ready to take care of some of his other needs.
“Wait here.” He instructed Rora. “I need to go upstairs and take care of some business. I’ll be back in thirty minutes. Don’t let anyone touch anything. Kick them in the balls if they try.”
He turned and headed for the staircase before she could reply. He might have to take her to NASA, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun along the way. It had been awhile since he had been with a woman. Living alone in the wasteland wasn’t exactly conducive to that. A shave and shower wouldn’t be too bad either.
Chapter 16
June 12, 2029
Cherries Saloon in Nevada, MO
Finally alone for a few minutes without someone chasing her, Rora reflected on the last week. The whirlwind had started with the Slavers grabbing her and her father. Then Derek had suddenly appeared as their savior, but he had really only been interested in acquiring the Device her father had made. Watching her father sacrifice himself by blowing himself up to create a distraction that allowed them to escape had been unbelievable, and she still couldn’t accept he was gone.
Rora started crying softly as she remembered all of the good times growing up in their small village. It had been simple but enjoyable. All of this commotion and the violence were overwhelming. The trip with Derek, hopping vehicles, and battling with all their pursuers had been a blur. All of the crazy people trying to kill them and even some wanting to eat them. It was all so surreal.
She still wasn’t sure she could trust Derek. He had his own agenda and he had definitely lied to her about what her father had said to him. As she watched him go up the stairs she wondered if she was misjudging him based on his rough appearance. His “Born to Fight” t-shirt didn’t exactly give him a warm and fuzzy vibe, nor did the way he easily killed people. But he had rescued her from the Slavers and kept her safe since then when he could have easily left her behind to save himself.
Rora cut short her musings as she realized she was all alone in a room primarily full of drunken men, all strangers to her. It was more people then she had ever seen in one place. They did seem distracted by the half-naked women gyrating on stage leaving her all alone in the back of the room. She wondered to herself why those women would degrade themselves like that. Didn’t they have any modesty or shame?
She suspected she knew why Derek had gone upstairs. He was getting more than a shower and shave. She had heard the men in the village mention how women would sell themselves for money. She had asked another woman about it, but the woman had told her it wasn’t any of her business. That good girls didn’t do that, only bad girls did.
Lost in her own thoughts, Rora didn’t notice the men approach until their shadows blocked out the lights from the stage. She looked up to see three men spread out in front of her leering at her. All three were dressed similarly in dark gray collared work shirts, dark grey work pants tucked into black combat boots, and black jackets with orange lining. All three had their heads shaved and had short trimmed beards. In contrast to many of the other men in the saloon they were clean and their clothes were clean. The leader was a slim man; but the man on the right was huge, only a little over six feet tall but almost bursting out of his jacket he was so well muscled. The third man was of average size and build.
“Hello darling. How much?” The leader asked sleazily.
Rora was confused. “How much for what?” She asked.
“For you baby. How much for you?” Came the reply.
She was disgusted and made a face showing it. “I’m not for sale you pig.” She responded with venom in her voice.
The leader’s face darkened and the other two look at him knowingly and smiled. Rora felt a slight shiver of fear run down her spine. It might have been a bad idea to antagonize the man without Derek around to protect her. Maybe the man had made an honest mistake given where they were.
The man leaned in towards here and spat. “Well, if you aren’t charging it must be free…”
He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off her chair. The other two closed in around her with broad grins on their faces. They knew the fun was about to start. They were going to have their way like they always did. No one ever wanted to mess with them. They didn’t notice the man approaching them from behind.
Chapter 17
June 11, 2029
Cherries Saloon in Nevada, MO
Derek left the room with a huge smile on his face. The naked woman sprawled on the bed had been up for what she had called a vigorous workout. She was practically unconscious when he had finished. It had been a while and he had some pent up energy. The shower and shave had helped also. He felt like a new man, re-energized and ready to deal with the Regulators.
His good mood lasted all the way to the top of the stairs. It lasted until he spotted three goons standing around Rora with the one in the middle grabbing her by the arm. The terrified look on her face said it all. Derek hated bullies, he always had. He had been suspended in high school for beating the quarterback of the football team half to death after he had tried to t-bag Derek after he and another player had knocked Derek down from behind. And he was almost kicked out of college for choking out another jock that was in the process of sexually assaulting a drunken girl.
He recognized the three men for what they were from their attire. They were members of the Order, a neo-Nazi group that had risen to prominence in Mississippi following the Collapse. Very organized around a paramilitary structure, they had appeared from almost nowhere to take over. Units had appeared towards the end of the Collapse and during the Aftermath. Obviously they had been underground preparing for such an opportunity. An opportunity which they had taken great advantage of. They had provided food, shelter, and stability in a chaotic world and won many converts quickly.
In the early 2000’s the white power movements had been fading. Lawsuits had taken the property of some of the largest organizations and the others were under siege from the government. Rallies and demonstrations had failed to generate more interest. A black president had been elected and the pressure had only intensified. So the racist groups had gone underground and organized in the shadows, using the internet to spread their message. With the failing economy they had found more converts. The Collapse had only created more possible converts who were looking for someone to blame.
The poor especially had fallen for their rhetoric blaming the Collapse on Jews and blacks. The Order’s Black Jackets, of which these three were members, had launched a violent purge of all non-whites in their territory. Most were driven out, but there had been some lynchings. Their utopian society was very fascist and highly controlled, but few if any ever left. People were often willing to overlook evil and cruelty if they themselves were taken
care of.
The Order was also the largest distributor of crystal meth in the South. It provided the cash they needed to buy supplies and weapons to maintain their empire. Their emissaries and merchants were generally well behaved, but also had a reputation for violence when provoked. Most people were afraid to mess with them because of that, so they generally got their way without actually resorting to violence.
Derek approached quietly from behind. They were too focused on Rora and what they were going to do to her to notice his approach. When he was right behind the man holding Rora he grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him around. The thug was so startled he let go of her. The other two swung around as well and they moved towards Derek menacingly. He smiled at them. The lead goon’s eyes narrowed and his face grew red.
“Shove off, we saw her first!” The leader snarled at him.
“She’s with me so I think it’s best if you move along.” Derek informed them calmly.
That only made the leader’s face get redder as he got angrier and angrier. He only paused for a moment to consider the fact that Derek was not at all concerned about being outnumbered or afraid of them. Or that Derek was wearing a shirt that indicated he liked to fight. The thug only paused briefly to make sure the other two were with him before he struck. He launched a wicked right hand at Derek’s face. The other two smirked a little as they knew what was coming next. Nobody lasted long against them, especially when caught off guard by the first punch.
Except the first punch never landed. Derek quickly ducked under the punch and stepped to the left. The punch soared over his head striking only air where he had been standing a second ago. Then he grabbed the man and kneed him in the gut from the side, really stepping into the strike. As the Order thug bent over from the force of the blow, Derek spiked his elbow down onto the back of the man’s neck. There was a loud crack and the thug dropped to the floor unconscious.
The other two men stood there frozen in amazement, their jaws hanging open. It had happened so fast, they weren’t even sure what had occurred. Their leader had been taken out so quickly and efficiently it was like Derek had barely moved. He took advantage of their pause and moved towards the big one. You always take out the biggest threat first and he was BIG. He had the thickly veined muscles of a steroid abuser and the crazed look in his eyes to go with it. Derek didn’t believe in honor in relation to fights. Every fight in the wasteland was life or death to him. Even a simple broken bone could spell death later.
As he approached the big man, the thug reached out for him. Derek let him grab him by the shoulders and then kicked the goon straight in the groin as hard as he could. The high pitched squeal the man made as he collapsed didn’t sound right coming from a man so big. Knowing the other man was coming at him from behind, Derek swirled around to his right and caught the man’s wrist as he stabbed at Derek with a ceramic knife. Derek continued his motion ending up slightly behind the man. He used the thug’s momentum to swing him around, push him forward, and then slam the man’s face into a table. The goon collapsed unconscious on the floor his broken nose bleeding heavily.
Derek turned to Rora and was about to congratulate himself on a quick victory when he saw her eyes widen. Before he could react to what must have been someone else coming up behind him, he heard the crash of a glass bottle shattering. Spinning around, he saw another Order thug lying on the ground bleeding from the head and a heavy set, middle aged man in a black cowboy hat standing over him holding the end of a broken whiskey bottle. The man stood a little over six feet tall and sported long dirty blond hair under the hat. He wore blue jeans tucked into combat boots and a black duster over a white denim shirt. Unlike everyone else, his holster was not empty. A large revolver rested in a well-worn leather holster hanging low on his hip.
Relaxing his combat stance, Derek went over and gave the man a big hug. His hug was met with vigorous back slapping and chuckling. He glanced back to see the confusion and relief on Rora’s face. He laughed and turned back towards her.
“Meet Vladimir Artexos or Tex for short. He and I go way back, we used to hunt bounties together. Although it looks like he has a better job now?” Derek asked as he noticed the silver star on Tex’s coat.
Tex smiled. “I parlayed the reputation we built hunting into a permanent gig with one of the Regulator’s Mobile Squads hunting fugitives. After a few years I transferred here to take a break.” He replied with a slight Russian accent.
“Looks like a desk job.” Derek said patting Tex’s obviously expanding waistline.
“Screw you Storm. Not everyone manages to keep in top shape with no effort like you do, especially at our age. And last time I checked there weren’t any fitness clubs anymore.”
Derek laughed at the picture of a wasteland gym with car axles and cinder blocks for weights and a fenced in track with a wild dog in it to motivate you to run instead of a treadmill. As well as the thought of Tex working out. The man was fairly lazy. That he was working a desk job for the Regulators didn’t surprise him.
Derek’s good humor started to fade as he noticed the large group bouncers heading their way with angry looks on their faces. He did not want to have to fight his way out of town. As he moved back into a combat stance, Tex stepped in front of them and flashed his badge. A brief conversation that Derek didn’t hear occurred. The bouncers nodded and then started dragging the inert bodies of the Order thugs out of the saloon. Apparently the Regulators had a lot of juice in this town.
Tex waved to them to follow. “Let’s get out of here. I explained the situation, but they still don’t want you in here. You are bad for business. Still a killing machine I see.”
Derek gave him a dirty look and flicked his eyes over towards Rora. Tex realized his mistake and tried to recover. “But a heart of gold, always helping widows and orphans.”
Derek groaned and glanced at Rora’s face. Her expression was hard to read but she looked angry or possibly now afraid of Derek.
“What?” Tex asked innocently.
“She’s an orphan you moron. She watched her Dad get killed right in front of her. I’m doing him a favor and taking her to NASA.”
“Some favor, NASA is right in the heart of…” Tex’s voice trailed off as he saw the look Derek was giving him. “Florida. In the heart of Florida. Warm and sunny Florida.” He finished with a nervous laugh.
“It’s ok Derek. I’m starting to realize that the world is a horrible and dangerous place and having a trained killer around is great protection.” Rora threw that at him as she pushed by him and headed outside.
He gave Tex another dirty look and followed her. Tex threw him a look and shrugged as if to say “What did I do?”
They retrieved their weapons and headed outside. The bouncers watched them carefully and with what seemed to be a measure of respect as they exited. After they got outside, Derek turned to the now lawman. “Do me a favor. Keep an eye on her while I cash in these bounties. We need to collect our supplies and head out shortly. But hang around, I have a business proposition I want to run by you. Could be a lot of money in it…If you can still drag your sorry ass out into the field that is?”
Tex patted his rounding middle section and smiled. “Don’t let this fool you Storm. I still throw down on a regular basis. I just eat better now.”
Derek laughed. “OK, ok. You still got it. I’ll be back shortly. Do me a favor and help Rora pick up our order from the General Store. Meet me at the parking lot in thirty minutes.”
“You got it brother.” Tex responded enthusiastically. The only thing he liked more than food, was money.
Chapter 18
June 11, 2029
Brotherhood of Justice Station House Nevada, MO
Derek entered the lobby of the Regulator Station House. From the outside it had looked utilitarian and strongly built. Concrete barriers blockaded the front of the building and the entrance looked reinforced enough to withstand artillery fire. He had also noticed that there had been snipers on the roof a
nd that the windows were narrow slits like gun ports instead of normal windows. Inside, it looked even more like a fortress. The lobby itself was sealed off from the rest of the building by what looked to be very thick armored glass and steel walls. The only entrance to the rest of the building was double doors in the center straight ahead of him.
To get through those you had to pass through a body scanner and fingerprint scanner. Your gear had to pass through an advanced x-ray machine. Armed guards with H&K G36Cs and in full body armor monitored the checkpoint and more guards lurked behind the armor glass walls. Derek could see ports in the glass that could be flipped open to allow them to fire into the lobby. Security cameras monitored everything.
There was a small line of people waiting to enter. Most looked like administrative or legal staff and the rest looked like Derek. Bounty hunters trying to claim bounties or looking for work. They filed through quickly and quietly. The only delay was the bounty hunters removing all their weapons and placing them in large metal lockers on the side.
When it was Derek’s turn, he removed all of his weapons including the ceramic knife and placed them in the designated locker. He threw his bag on the belt of the scanner and entered the body scanner. Satisfied he was weapons free they waved him over to the fingerprint scanner. Given the amount of bounties he had collected Derek’s fingerprints were in the Regulator database and he presumed he would be waved through. Much to his surprise, after the machine scanned his fingerprint red lights started flashing and an alarm klaxon sounded.
