Outlaws of Babylon

by Eugene W. Cundiff

  Jen looked to Ric, brushing her fingertip over the map. She pointed to Wall Street, and then to the tavern that served as the Irishmen's headquarters. Both were not overly far from the location Benny had shown them. “How has someplace that close to the main hub of the city and the gangs not been found and hit before now?”

  “I could see why someone who’s not a local might wonder that.” Mory answered as she and Kurt slipped into the tent. Jen gave Mory a chilly glance, rolling her eyes.

  “And would the wise native care to enlighten we poor ignorant outland barbarians?”

  “Shaddap Dollface. And go on, Ivory?”

  The pale teen shook her head, moving her finger onto the Sixes' headquarters. “Because this is Ghost Town.”

  “Not sure I follow, babe?”

  Kurt answered Ric's question. “Because that’s within the hot zone.”

  Mory nodded to the Preserve exile. “Ghost Town. There were more bombs than just the one on Liberty Island, and Ghost Town took a big one. It was so thick with the Dust, it had to be evacuated. To hear the Oldtimers tell it, after enough people got sick or died from the Dust no one went back. It's been abandoned for decades. And worse? This is awful close to the Gardens, the Queen's domain. No sane person goes there”

  “What about insane backwad Bible-humpers?”

  Mory’s gaze turned to Jen. She nodded, softly. “It’d be the most secluded place in the city proper, for certain. But how they could deal with the Dust, and dodge the Queen's patrols, I don’t know. That means we don't have a safe way to move on them, either.”

  “Could you use your little gift to scrub the rads out afterward, Ivory?”

  Mory shook her head, shrugging her slim shoulders. “I honestly don’t know. Those books Hudson gave us have shown me a lot of new tricks, but there’d still be a lot of ifs involved.”

  “Lotta if comin’ off this plan, you mean?”

  “Shaddap Dollface. You’re the one pushing hardest for the best defense approach here.”

  “Just saying that I have enough limbs and enough cancer, thank you very much Four and none, respectively.”

  Ric pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. He slumped into a chair, looking to Benny. “You have anything to add here, new guy? Ever been there yourself, any idea how they deal with the little atomic ambiance problem?”

  “I wish I could say more, but I hadn’t rated moving to the main compound yet. No blood on my hands and all. So no, I don’t have much else to add, except I’m sorry for the fact I don’t know more?” Benny sighed, looking to the floor. Ric rose from his seat, reaching across the table to lay a hand on the young man's shoulder.

  “Hey, it's not recon’s fault if the logistics are rough. You gave us a lot more than we had before.”

  “Let’s let that set a while then, and discuss the other major concern behind our meeting.” Mory's suggestion was quiet. T.J. nodded from where he stood behind her.

  “You declared break-away.”

  Ric began to speak, but Jen clapped a hand over his mouth. She looked to the two wasters. “Give it to us straight, Saint and Kiddo. How much crap did Boytoy stir up for us?”

  Ric gave her an icy look, but Jen raised the hand that was not muffling him. “Not that I won’t admit he was right to tell ‘em to piss off on the matter of the guns. But yeah, inches and miles.”

  Mory shook her head, drawing a deep breath. “It really is hard to say. In truth Ric was in the right as these things go, but the Council being the Council, and the biggest of the outfits being sour on us? The Irishmen have a lot of clout obviously, so a tithe would have been polite. Not a big one, but something to show gratitude and recognition of sovereignty.”

  “Where did she learn a word like sovereignty? “

  “Shaddap Dollface. Ivory keep going, please?”

  Mory nodded, avoiding Jen's cold glare. “Agreeing to keep providing the crop tithes will go a ways, especially with Big Jerry. He may recognize that Auntie was a bit out of line in her demands. They did pass on the score, and they did leave a loyal vassal in the wind. Redress would have been in order, but I'm not sure the entirety of the Zero would have been what the Council would have granted. Some might grumble about you showing them up, though. Making them look weak in front of the other associations. Especially since at least one of the others has supposedly been angling to usurp leadership of the Council from them for years. “

  “But this isn’t a declaration of war?”

  Mory shook her head "No. Not war."

  Jen snorted in contempt. “Even if it were, it’s like you told the Sheriff. Walls, guns, superpowers. Not worth it for them to try, and the Sixes aren’t about to make nice even if she does. Not after the incident at the Market. Plus, we’re on course to provide a very valuable commodity.”

  Ric nodded to Jen, shrugging his shoulders. “Still, a few of the guns are probably not worth antagonizing one of the most powerful gangs on the 'Council'.“

  “With respect, Boss?”

  Ric blinked as T.J. spoke, but he motioned for the younger teen to continue.

  “It’s probably too late for that. Boss Reno always talked about image and reputation, and if you go back on a decision like this? “

  Mory sighed, nodding to T.J. in agreement. “We’d look worse for it than we do for this unsanctioned break-off. We would look weak. Like our reach was longer than our grip.”

  Ric pondered the information for a moment, then he nodded. “So we stick to our guns. Literally, in this case. We concentrate on shoring up our defenses, and on finding a safe way to hit at the main Six hub. We’ve staked our claim and claimed our name.” The Californian glanced across the assembled teens gathered around the table with him. “We’re not running, or hiding, or taking it on the chin, or looking for greener pastures. Not anymore. Babylon has fallen, but we are its children. We are the heirs to this forsaken joke of a world. Whether we were born to it or drawn to it, we're the sons and daughters of this big rotten apple. I don’t know about the rest of you, but for whatever it is worth in the grand roll of history, and no matter how unpopular it seems to be these days?” He slammed his fist down on the table. “I do care. I do give a damn.. From what I’ve seen, people like us are one in a million. That all of us came together like this?” He shook his head, smiling. “I don’t believe in coincidences, at least not ones this big. Believer in a higher power or not, if this is blind, stupid chance then I say we still should make the most of it.”

  Jen rolled her eyes, but Ric continued on. The other three young adults were hanging on his words.

  “We are the Heirs of Babylon now. Not Irishmen. Not a band of strangers. All of these people here on this profaned and sacred ground we hold are a family, and us?” He smiled self-assuredly. “We’re the parents. Even if a goodly few of the refugees we've taken in may be older than us, they’re as awestruck at what we can do as anyone else. We can do the impossible, and as it was once said, that makes us mighty. And because we are mighty we will do the impossible. We will raise walls and build homes. We will cure the sick and keep account of the dead so their suffering is not forgotten. We will strike at the heart of the tyrants within this ruin and vanish as ghosts. We will bring fear to the unjust and to our enemies.

  Ric took a deep breath, raising his fist into the air.

  “But most of all, above all else? We will give these people something they thought no longer existed! We will give them a future. We will give them hope.

  The Californian let this words give way to a moment of silence. Then he looked to each of his assembled friends in turn. “Who are we?”

  With fire in their hearts and in their eyes, the others answered in unison. Even Jen offered her half-hearted and uncertain support to the declaration.

  “We are the Heirs of Babylon!”

  21

  “Three, two, one... hit it!” Light bathed the snow-caked central plaza of the Zero, and Ric looked cheekily to Jen. “You were saying something about ten ducats
?”

  Jen grumbled, dropping the Market coins into Ric’s waiting hand. She glanced to the glowing spectacle before her, muttering.

  “Pops was an engineer in the Corps. You knew that.”

  "I just didn’t expect you to have paid attention.”

  Ric was preparing to reply when found himself embraced by Mory. Her eyes were alight with wonder as she kissed him.

  “This must be like what the Oldtimers tell about, how they remember it in the days before the War!”

  Ric chuckled, kissing her cheek. “In all fairness, the ones they used to put up were a lot bigger. And they actually were real. Still, for a lot of scavved plastic and old car lights…”

  Kurt stepped from behind them, applauding. His mood was brighter than usual. “I may not be an expert on Christmas for obvious reasons, but it has a certain post-apocalyptic charm all its own. It sorta says ‘nuclear winter wonderland.'”

  Mory laughed softly to her childhood friend. “Maybe ‘Christmas at Ground Zero’?”

  Ric grinned. “There was actually a song by that name, once.”

  “Do you know it?”

  The Californian shook his head. “Not offhand, though I probably have a version in the collection. Never was big on Christmas tunes, being honest.”

  “You don’t see much snow in SoCal, after all.”

  “Shaddap Dollface.”

  Jen snorted, ignoring Ric. “Well, unless you count White Christmas care of the U.A.C.’s runners.”

  “Shaddap Dollface.”

  The punk grinned wickedly, and Ric groaned. Kurt waited a moment before he broke the silence.

  “Still no notion on how we might mount an assault into Ghost Town? Much as I’d prefer to live and let live, giving the Sixes time to sit and lick their wounds makes me nervous.”

  “Think of it as Belleau Wood 2027, Killer. Holiday truce and all that. Sav, chummer?”

  Kurt nodded, tiredly. “Sav.”

  “And what about our pretty blind lovely mad girl?”

  Kurt looked to his Boss with weary eyes. “Since she woke up, she’s lapsing in and out of her senses. Whatever powers she had seem shorted out. By the injuries, or the drugs, or the purging of the drugs, or... you get the idea. Her mind's like a bag of alley cats, but at least now they’re purring and lapping up some milk now and then.”

  “Any more weird ramblings that seem like they might be useful?”

  Kurt shook his head. “Not really, I’m afraid. No real way to separate signal from the noi-“

  Kurt was cut off by a shout of indignation. Behind the group, Jeza and T.J. had pounced upon Ronnie, and the three collapsed in a tangle of limbs between the supposed ‘elder statesmen’ of the Zero. T.J. was the first to rise, looking angrily to Ronnie.

  “Jo told you that you weren’t supposed to be in those supplies!”

  “Screw you, freakshow! You and your little brat and that Smucker bitch you get all revved up and hot over!”

  At T.J.'s words, Mory looked down on Ronnie sternly. “Ronald Alistair Whitechapel, were you trying to steal from the pantries again?”

  “I’m tired of the damned slop and hard bread!"”

  “We eat just the same as everyone else here.”

  “Then why do you have that fancy Market crap?”

  Mory shook her head. “That's not for us. It's to make a nice holiday meal for our guests.”

  “So some strangers get it and not me? What a load of shit!”

  “Language, Ronnie. And not strangers. Auntie Aces and Big Jerry, with a few of their men.”

  Jen blinked at that, turning to give Ric an annoyed look. “We’re doing what?”

  “We’re doing exactly what Ivory just said. She suggested it as a good diplomatic gesture. That, and for two of our three local-born leaders the Sheriff is as close to family as they have outside the Zero. Leastwise as could be safely invited.”

  “The bitch left you to die, then came insisting we turn over the guns after you brought them back solo!”

  “Then we refused and took over a part of her boss’ turf in recompense for it. We don’t need extra enemies, Dollface.”

  Jen crossed her arms, scowling. “And why did no one run this plan by me?”

  “No offense Jen, but out of five votes we already had four in favor an you were –“

  “I'm not talking to you, Killer. I was talking to Boytoy.”

  “I’d have told you the same thing Dollface. You weren’t at the meeting. You were off drunk with one of the local girls. We asked you to come, remember?”

  Jen grumbled, and Ric shook his head.

  “Besides, it’s a good plan, and if we are going to petition the Council for full membership soon –“

  “Which we are. Same meeting.”

  “As Killer said. We are, and it’d do good to show one of the founding members we’re not some band of teenage Preservers hustling a few locals to satisfy a power trip. Or that we’re not just petty mercs playing at sovereignty either. Show them we have strong security, an economic and agricultural base, and a functioning creed and code. Let them see, plain and clear, that we’re legit, but that we’re also wanting to be part of the system, not trying to tear it down.”

  Jen kept scowling as she shook her head. “Do I even need to point out how wrong that last bit is coming from you?”

  Ric smiled, wearily. “Different system, and a different person. Like I said Dollface, I’ve grown up.”

  “You mean you’ve sold out.”

  “Sold out to what? To who? Sold out to growing up after insisting I wouldn’t? Jen, did you really expect to be roaming the damned wastelands between the few spots of organized civilization left in this once-great nation for the rest of our lives, picking fights and making narrow escapes by the skins of our teeth? Is that why we left the Preserve?”

  “We left to find freedom, not tie ourselves down to some quixotic pipe dream in the third-worst hellhole in the U.S.!”

  Ric sighed. “Jen, there comes a time when you realize if you want greener pastures you gotta start planting the grass yourself, instead of waiting for someone else to, or for the wind to blow the seed your way. As was once spoken without irony in this once-country? Freedom isn’t free.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Jen, why is it so hard to –“Mory had barely begun speaking before Jen whipped her eyes to the other young woman. She glared at her with smoldering fury.

  “Shut up, Irish! Just shut the shit up! “

  Mory’s eyes were tired, and her voice was level. “Or you’ll do what? Insult me, hit me, maybe even beat me? Savage me, maul me until I’m a bloodied and battered wreck on the cold ground?” With each forceful word, Mory took a step toward Jen. Her face was calm and her eyes resolute as she moved forward, stopping a single step away from Jen. Her arms fall to her sides, palms held outward and head held level. “Then do it. If you hate me so damned much then hit me. Strike me with all the hatred and anger you have in you, all the spite you can –“

  Jen's punch snapped Mory’s head back with the awful sound of a cracking jaw, sending her stumbling toward the ground. Ric and Kurt both moved swiftly forward to catch her, but Mory raised her hand to halt them. She stood from the dirt, looking to Jen serenely.

  “Is that all, then? Are you satisfied?”

  “Crazy bitch! You get off on this, don’t you? This is all some sort of sick fetish for you, for you to get lost in your pity party passion play, isn’t it? You don’t have the rocks to just slit your pretty wrists and be done with it, so you have to drag others into it! “

  Mory shook her head, light flickering in her eyes and the bruising faded from her face. “I am not going to be wounded by your words, Jennifer. I have made a choice, and I will stand by my decision. I may not have known him for as long as you have, but in ways I believe I may know Ric better than –“

  Jen drove a hard fist into Mory's gut with sickening force. Mory fell to her knees.

  “Don’t you da
re! Don’t you goddamn dare! “

  Mory simply looked up to Jen with pain in her eyes, saying nothing. Behind them, the sound of gleeful clapping began. Looking over her shoulder, Jen's gaze fell on Ronnie. He continued clapping, grinning broadly as he did.

  “You’re the best freak ever! Show her what’s what, that bossy bitch!”

  “Well, seems someone agrees with you, Dollface.” Ric’s voice was cold and distant, Jen snarled out a string of profanities as she stormed off into the night beyond the junkyard tree’s light. Ric shook his head as he moved to help Mory to her feet.

  “Ric, I didn't mean to -“

  The Californian pressed a finger to Mory's lips and pulled her into a gentle one-armed embrace. He kissed the top of her head. “It’s not your fault, Ivory. She’ll come around, sooner or later. She always does.”

  “I shouldn’t have told her –“

  “The truth? Because that’s what it was. She knows it, too. That’s why it pissed her off so much, sav?" Ric's eyes were distant as he turned them back to the ‘tree’ before them. “Hell of a holiday, so far.”

  “It’s about par for the course, as mine usually go.”

  Kurt slipped up to the pair, laying one hand on Mory’s shoulder and the other on Ric’s. “Should I go after her?”

  “You’re welcome to try, chummer. She seems to like you more than anyone else here, just now.”

  Kurt nodded at that, slipping off after Jen. Mory sighed, leaning heavily against Ric. Looking around to regain her bearings, her expression swiftly grew concerned.

  “Where did Ronnie go?”

  22

  Jen stormed down the footpath toward the makeshift garage Kurt had erected, so flushed with anger she barely felt the chill in the air. Noticing that Kurt himself was close on her heels, she stopped, not turning to look to him as she spoke.

  “Piss off, Killer. I’m not in the mood to talk about punching your childhood sweetheart.”

  “I wasn’t here to talk about that.”