Dark New World (Book 4): EMP Backdraft

by Henry G. Foster

  Terry raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. “Yeah… I guess I could do that. It will mean an extra stop for me to trade those out so I can recoup my costs, but maybe you’d remember who did such a great deal for you. Maybe give me a good trade down the road, come harvest next year.”

  Cassy smiled, nodded, stuck out her hand. “You drive a hard bargain, Terry, but I think we got a deal. You come back with the salt and we’ll do the trade. And tell us what else you want to trade for. We manage and harvest game in huge parts of the forest around her, plus we run stock, raise a lot of fruits and vegetables… handy inventions of our in-house Redneck Engineer… there’s bound to be things you can trade out at a profit. Now tell me about this ‘gasifier’ on your truck.”

  * * *

  “So,” Cassy said to Frank, who sat next to her later as they ate lunch, “did Dean get a good enough look to figure out how to make a gasifier of our own?”

  “He’s pretty sure he can do it, with only a few extra things that are easy enough to scrounge up. He’s a bit of a genius, the cranky bastard. If he says he can do it, I expect he can, and he’ll be a pain in the ass until he gets it right to his satisfaction. He says it could take months to get it to work right, without either a parts list or an example to study.”

  Cassy grinned. “If we can rig up one or more of those, we can send real vehicles out. Think of the scouting possibilities. Or contacting some of those other survivor groups the trader mentioned. We could even set up a trading center here.”

  Frank poked at his bowl of constant stew, the random ingredients Grandma Mandy kept slow-cooking in a big stewpot over the coals all day and all night. “Not to mention scaring the bejesus out of anyone thinking about trying Peter’s idea again. Working vehicles are mighty impressive these days, and Michael says he never considered just how much advantage you get with the ability to maneuver fast until he had to be on foot or horseback.”

  “Yep. There’s definitely that. But I had another thing in mind, too. With a five hundred mile range between loads of wood, we could get serious about communicating with other survivor groups. Maybe talk them into some sort of alliance, or pact, before the Empire finds us.”

  “The Fort Wayne people. Do you really think they’ll get this far east?”

  “If not them from the west, then the invaders from the east. There’s got to be a lot of invaders out there still. It isn’t like they could just go home now that the whole world’s got the same problem they gave the U.S.”

  “And if not them, then Adamstown is always a pain in the ass.”

  Cassy shrugged. “Well, our weapons and knowledge are the reason Lititz and other towns usually follow Clanholme’s suggestions, for the most part. They’re real friendly because we put the hurt on Adamstown’s troops every time they try something, and we trade our knowledge of permaculture and prepper skills for their goods and services. With working trucks? We could even force Adamstown to see the error of their ways.”

  “A nice dream if we didn’t just provoke them. I’d rather put scouts out to the west, though. Ethan says the Empire has pushed within a hundred miles of us, and that makes me nervous. I don’t know how our little hacker finds all this out, but I’m plenty glad he does.”

  “Lord knows, information never hurts. And to get the most current information possible, we need a gasifier sooner than next spring.” Cassy shifted her weight slightly. “Alright, Frank. Let Choony know we need him to head out to this Falconry survivor group the trader told us about. He can take two horses and head out after New Year’s.”

  “He’ll want to bring Jaz. Not because she’s his age and gorgeous, of course. But she’s street tough and he needs her cunning. Plus, she’s his age and gorgeous.” He grinned.

  Cassy laughed. “Of course not. He’s Buddhist, and they’re above the temptations of women as pretty and cunning as she is.” Then she grew more somber. “Since we came out on top against Peter, she’s really grown into her potential. It’s a shame she had to shed some of that naivety, though. Now she’s tough, pretty, and cunning. Trifecta.”

  Frank chuckled and looked over at Cassy. “He respects her newfound grit as much as he does yours.”

  “Yeah, I know. I figure the two of them will at least try to play house for a bit, later, when she’s ready of course. She still misses Jed.”

  “He was my best friend, so I get that. Alright, enjoy your mason jars, Cassy. I’ll go let Michael know the plan, and you can tell Choony after lunch. Think about what he can bring for trade.”

  Cassy watched Frank crutch away toward the Complex. Despite losing his foot—to save her life, in fact—Frank was no less appealing to her than he was before. He was happily married, though. All the good ones were and anyway, she had more important things to worry about. She shoved the thought of Frank aside, as always. Some trusts should simply never be broken.

  * * *

  At supper that day, Cassy sat with most of the Council. A voice from behind them almost made her jump, until she realized it was Michael. “Sorry, Cassy. I didn’t mean to startle you. Got a minute?”

  Cassy motioned for him to sit on the log next to her. “Sure, what’s up?”

  After sitting, Michael said, “I know you and Frank have this plan to send out ambassadors to the groups we just found out about, but I have some concerns. I can see the benefits, but it’s my job to let you know the risks as I see them.”

  Frank shifted in his seat. “Your job is the security of the Clan, Michael. You’re good at it, too, but keep in mind that friendly neighbors also make us safer. It’s not just about right here, right now. If we had the friends then that we have now, Peter would never have made it to Clanholme alive.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But not everyone we meet is going to be friendly, Frank. I think we should lay low, stay off the radar of those we haven’t already met. Maybe send a spy come spring to scout them out before approaching them with envoys.”

  “Cassy’s already a local legend. That ‘lay low’ ship has sailed.” Frank leaned down to scratch his leg stub. “I mean, if our allies know these other groups then I imagine they’ve all heard of us. The trader damn near announced that Cassy’s recognized across the whole region now. And if they’re Adamstown’s allies, well, Adamstown knows about us all too well already. We can’t lay low now, even if we wanted to.”

  “I don’t recommend sending out envoys right now anyway,” Michael replied. “It’s winter. Game is scarce, people are hungry. There may not be any more Red Locusts out there, gangs of cannibal bandits, but people are still eating people if they get hungry enough. The die off isn’t done yet. I say again, waiting to send out scouts until spring is the safest path for us.”

  “And then what, Michael?” asked Frank. “Another couple of months for them to get back and to send out envoys? Who knows how long it’ll take to negotiate an alliance. It could be well into summer by the time we get even preliminary results, and the Empire is only a hundred miles away. Think they’ll sit on their asses when spring comes? Better to negotiate before the Empire barks at our border. And for the mobility that will let us reach out like that, we need the gasifier. Gasoline is awful scarce now.”

  Cassy stood abruptly. Her jaw was tight, but she smiled at them both. “Michael, we couldn’t ask for a better protector. The whole Clan relies on you and your team to keep us safe. And Frank, your foot may be gone but your wisdom isn’t. Bring the Council together, will you? We’ll meet in half an hour. The whole Council needs to kick this one around.”

  * * *

  1900 HOURS - ZERO DAY +144

  Jaz wasn’t on the Council, but she’d been with Ethan and Amber when Cassy’s call for the Council came in. Ethan left, Jaz made polite excuses to Amber to leave as well, and she caught up with Ethan just outside of Cassy’s house, where the Clan always met.

  “Howdy, Jaz. Did you forget something?”

  Jaz smiled, bright as a new morning in spring. She wasn’t his type, she knew, but smiling never hurt when you
wanted something. “Just wondering if I can come in and eavesdrop. I can be your plus-one. I’ve heard rumors about a mission that includes Choony, and I want to hear it from the Council before I freak out from not knowing.”

  Ethan shrugged. “Suit yourself, but Cassy might ask you to leave.” He turned and entered the house. Jaz stayed on his heels.

  When Ethan sat next to Choony on the couch, she sat behind the two on a folding chair and tried to seem invisible. The others were all seated already on the couch or scattered about on chairs when Cassy came in.

  Cassy sat down at the head of the dining room table, the “Round Table,” which was square but Cassy liked the idea that she was just first among equals, even if everyone knew it didn’t work that way in reality. She wanted a Round Table—that’s what the square table was.

  She spread a regional roadmap on the table, but Jaz couldn’t see it from the other side of the room. “Big news. I know Ethan has kept us all up to date on the threat from the Empire, west of us. They’re within one hundred miles and we know almost nothing else about the situation, except that they’ve had to fight tooth and nail for every bloody inch of ground. It turns out the people who have survived so far don’t much like the idea of bowing and scraping to some half-pint Caesar located who knows where.” She looked around. “We need more information. And come spring, we need to organize the other local groups. Sooner, if we can. For that we need a vehicle. Horses are just too slow, especially once you run out of whatever feed you can carry with you.”

  Ethan coughed. “Don’t forget the ’vaders. They’re still out there, all around us.”

  “That situation is more stable than the Empire’s, from what you tell us, Ethan. Hell, the whole reason Adamstown raids so much is to supply their fight against their own friendly neighborhood invader camp. I wish they’d just asked us all for help instead of raiding, but on the bright side that mistake put us in a bit of a leadership position with other survivors hereabouts.”

  Michael said, “You know my advice, but if we had a car that worked, my advice would change. Drastically. Marines hate being on defense anyway. A car would give us fast response capability when a situation does come up.”

  Cassy smiled crookedly. “Someone’s been listening to scuttlebutt.” She looked around. “It’s a valid point, though. So the question becomes, ‘Where do we get a working car?’ And the answer to that turns out to be pretty simple. We already have a car that works—the Camaro.”

  Grandma Mandy frowned. “I detest that thing. And your idea has a flaw, sweetie. There’s no gasoline. Where there is gas, there’s no power to run the pumps. And where you can get to it without a pump, Ethan told me the gasoline goes bad after a few months. A lot of it is probably useless by now.”

  Jaz, sitting quietly in the back, raised an eyebrow. That was new information. She’d wondered why the Clan kept that gorgeous muscle car under cover and never used it. So, gas goes bad? If Ethan said it then it must be true, but it surprised her.

  Cassy grinned and looked around the room. Jaz caught her eye and it seemed Cassy had only just noticed her, but other than letting her gaze linger for a moment longer than she had with the others, she gave no sign of surprise or disapproval.

  The Clan leader then stabbed a finger at the map before her, though Jaz still couldn’t see it. “That’s all true, from what I understand, but we had a useful visitor today, and he let slip some even more useful news.”

  Frank spoke up. “You’re talking about the trader that came through today, I presume.”

  Michael frowned. “Traitor?”

  “No,” Cassy said with a grin. “Trader. An honest-to-god traveling merchant and tinkerer, like in medieval times, bartering and bringing news from village to village. And he let slip a detail that will help us with our problem. There’s a device called a gasifier that uses wood somehow to fuel a regular car. We must have one of these, and quickly. I am sending someone to Cornwall, the town up north through the forest—they call themselves the Falconry now, and they make these devices. I gathered you to discuss this because we need an envoy to travel there and get one. Or to get the parts for Dean to improve on.”

  Well now, that was interesting! Jaz ran through a few ideas on what the Clan could accomplish with this gasifier gadget. Not only letting them run the Camaro indefinitely, but they could use one to power generators, which were a lot more useful than the solar and wind Cassy had set up by the time the EMPs hit. The Clan had a few generators, but without gas they were useless for now. Not to mention sitting in Clanholme all winter was, like, totally boring. Life was too short to veg out all winter if she didn’t have to.

  Jaz leapt to her feet. “Cassy, I’ll go. I’m totally the best person for the job. I’ll get, like, the best deal. Smile and eyelashes. So yeah, I volunteer.” She grinned from ear to ear. Cassy would have to let her go. She just had to!

  Before Cassy could respond, Michael stood with arms akimbo. He sure looked outraged. “Cassy, the idea is solid, but you can’t possibly think it’s a good idea to send Jaz. No disrespect, Jaz—your heart’s in the right place—but you tend to attract the wrong kind of attention and you’ll be alone in an unknown settlement. What if they’re Adamstown’s allies, or just a bad place with bad people? A lot of that goes around these days, you know.”

  Jaz glared at Michael. Dammit, he should have learned by now that she could take care of herself. End of the frikkin world and she still had to deal with sexist crap! “Michael,” she growled, not bothering to hide her irritation, “I think I can handle myself. Or have you forgotten I’m the one who found the Marines who help you keep our borders safe? Without them, we wouldn’t have won against Peter. Do we really need more sexist bullshit in the new world? I had enough of that in the old world. More than enough.”

  Cassy laughed, surprising Jaz—she’d expected Cassy to get mad, not laugh…

  “Jaz, Michael, please sit down. You both have valid points. And Jaz? Michael wasn’t talking down about you, or thinking you’re weaker because you’re a woman. Last I checked, I’m a woman… and so are a few of his Marines. He’s right, though—you do attract a lot of attention. The blessings of youth, I guess. And that attention is both good and bad. Depends how you use it. You’re right, it’ll help secure a deal, and with good terms. So I was already going to ask you to go. But I also need my people taken care of, and you’re my people, too. Two are better for traveling than one. The trader who came to visit had an armed bodyguard he called Lump. It’s just smart.”

  Frank, who had been sitting like a lump himself and stroking his chin, started to chime in. He was a great guy, so Jaz wasn’t too worried about what he’d say.

  “I think Cassy has a point,” Frank said thoughtfully. “But might I suggest sending some other people with her as well? Both for security and to display our strength to these Falconry people. First impressions matter more than ever these days.”

  Cassy paused, considering what he’d said. She was totally pretty when she got that look on her face, even with the scars. Hells, dudes probably thought scars were all sexy. Jaz tried to imagine what she herself would look like with scars, but didn’t like the idea. Maybe when she got older.

  “You’re right, of course,” Frank was saying. “Choony, I like Cassy’s idea of having you and Jaz both go. You have a remarkable ability to keep people ‘grounded’ in reality. You calm people down. We’d send maybe four of Michael’s Marines as escort, on horseback, with one of the wagons that Dean jury-rigged. You can carry supplies with you, and Jaz can trade for a gasifier on the way back. All but you would carry M4s, and you’d have half a dozen of our Remington 700s for trade as well. We all use M4s for defense now anyways. What do you think, Michael? Choony?”

  Jaz grinned. Frank was really good at organizing for travel and this was the best news ever. She was totally going on an adventure, and this time there was no rapey Jimbo chasing her. And Choony was coming. It couldn’t get better than that. He was the best guy she’d ever known
, even if he wasn’t as hot as Jed had been. Plus he was fun to play with. The more she flirted with him, the more flustered he got. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was crushing on her. That idea made her more excited than it should, though, so she squashed the thought right away. Choony was all about Cassy, as far as she could tell, and philosophy, and helping everyone in sight, so best not to get her own hopes up. That never worked out well, in Jaz’s experience.

  Choony shrugged and nodded. Yay! He would go with her.

  The rest of the meeting was basically a planning session, with the whole Council chiming in with ideas. Jaz kept quiet but realized after a while that she was grinning like an idiot. Well, why not? It was a good day…

  * * *

  After the meeting, Ethan approached Cassy while the rest of the Council filed out of her house. She smiled and waved as he dodged Council people going the other direction. The poor guy spent most of his time locked away in the Bunker, even when Amber was on duty. The two kept the bunker radios manned at all times, as well as monitoring for incoming messages on Ethan’s laptop. Since Ethan and Amber needed sleep like everyone else, he’d also been assigned one of the older teens to act as his assistant. It all meant that the antisocial hacker had all the company he usually needed or could tolerate, so the rest of the Clan didn’t see much of him anymore.

  “Hey, Ethan. Got something on your mind?”

  “Sure do, boss lady. You know how we have those extra HAM radios we scrounged? I was wondering if you could authorize sending one of them over to the Falconry. They’re our northern border, from what I understand, so an early warning system might be a good idea. Plus we could coordinate better that way, if the Falconry and the Clan decide we like one another. Hell, it could even be worth one of those gasifiers, if they recognize the value of a working HAM radio. Keep your other trade goods in reserve.”