by catt dahman
“I see.” Lucas considered this. He was just taking it in, but it didn’t seem to anger him. “Pascal says the other boy joined them, he thinks, but he can’t see anything; it’s like his view to them went away.”
“Then, it must be so,” Roy said.
“We never should have allowed the child to slip through. Pascal would have enjoyed toying with him. That was sloppy.”
“Yes, Sir, he would have.” Roy didn’t know anything but what Lucas told them: that some people with a boy were going to join the US Militia, and the child was the antithesis of Pascal. He was someone who wished to ruin what the RA had going. How a child could ruin them, Roy didn’t know. He doubted it, really, though he kept that to himself.
He did know that it was far more than distaste that made Lucas and Pascal want to destroy the other little boy; there was an undercurrent of something like worry and fear. Instead of being like the rest and wanting to find the boy and kill him, Roy was more curious than anything about why he was so important to Lucas.
Roy never had been a particularly curious person and relied on his judgments of people and things, making up his mind swiftly.
But lately, there had been things that Roy didn’t have: old, trusted information on events and people, and so he was very curious.
It could be that Roy would easily and gladly shoot the other boy down violently because Roy wasn’t soft by any means, but he did want to find out what significance the child had.
Without television and movies, the chaos was entertaining, and he wanted to find out the mystery and how this ended, just like watching a show.
“What do you think, Roy? Do we wait like Frank says and slaughter them all later? Or do we go now?”
Roy felt chilled. He didn’t want to engage the others at all. He wished they could go on their own way and avoid a war since he might be the one who got shot. “Whatever Pascal says.” That was his safest answer.
The child smiled and went back to his toys. Lucas seemed satisfied. “I hear we have a bonfire tonight, should be a good show.”
Roy nodded. Bonfires meant that all the non-white prisoners would be gathered and run through a giant bonfire to see if any could make it through the flames and embers, across the burning top, and to the other side and out.
Sometimes a few made it, but they died later of the burns. Roy had always been a racist, but he didn’t think killing was exactly the right thing to do to them, not that he wanted any of them with him either.
He didn’t say a word though and watched every bonfire with the rest of the jeering, betting crowd, trying to win the pot of liquor and whatever else people used to make bets.
They spray-painted each of the prisoners in a different color so that each prisoner could be seen better. The men could bet on how long a person would last, how far he might get, who would get the farthest, or who had to be poked with a spike to get him moving, and how many pokes it would take.
They had two other versions, one in which concrete was chained to the prisoners, and the crowd bet on the prisoner’s swimming across the inlet of the lake.
The second one was at the horse track a few times where they raced the prisoners, betting on them after they had literally been handicapped.
‘Whores to the death’ was also popular; they would put naked whores, well women who had been enslaved and forced to be whores into a ring, and everyone bet on who would survive a fight to the death. Roy didn’t mind that game at all and had won a nice knife and a six-pack of beer when his choice of whores came in second.
“Everything going okay, Roy?” Lucas probed.
Roy faintly felt a push at his head, inside, a tickling push, like Pascal was trying to see inside, but the boy seemed not to be able to do that trick; he couldn’t read minds, and that probably kept Lucas from slaughtering the entire camp. That Pascal was even attempting to get inside made Roy jittery, but that was just something the child always did.
Roy stretched his legs, brushing at his black pants, showing how calm he felt and unconcerned, “Going real well. I threw out that trash and their slave, the drunk ones.”
“Frank would have killed them, but they are young, and he thinks that a few days out, and they will mend their ways and bring in something valuable to win us back.” Lucas laughed. “I think they should have been shot, but Frank can be a softie.”
“They might,” Roy agreed. Secretly, he hoped they didn’t. He had seen when the boys brought in new slaves and had assigned the slaves for their own use.He knew three of them who were with the black girl. The captives hadn’t let on they knew Roy, which flummoxed him at first, but then he figured they did it to keep Frank from killing them right off, and he would have if he had recognized them.
“The boys, Frank says, have potential but need appreciation.”
“I see.”
Roy should have told Frank and Lucas who the captives were, but now it was too late, and he’d be executed, officer or not, for keeping that information to himself. Why hadn’t he just told and been done with it instead of having the secret and worrying over it?
He wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t told right then. If he had, the captives’ deaths would have been imaginatively torturous and gruesome which Roy didn’t want to witness. It wasn’t that he liked them, but he had fought alongside them for a common goal once, and that did stick with him. Roy also thought Frank and the others might have thought him suspicious and watched him more if he mentioned it.
More than anything, Roy wanted to see how it all went and to hedge a few bets, just in case.
The RA had their ways of gambling, and Roy had his own.
14
In the Zone
As Beth expected, the sight of their caravan and that of the big military truck brought everyone to the gate to watch their intake. Len began to intake, but stopped to call for Doc right away.
In the second section, Len finally could remain quiet no longer, “You’re just proud enough of yourself to pop, aren’t you?”
“Yup.”
“A whole truck full of supplies,” Len mused about what this would mean for their safety, “who would have guessed?”
“Yup.”
“Can’t wait to hear how you all took on a mess hall completely full of those things without a single injury.”
“It was epic.”
“I surrender, Beth,” Len admitted, grinning, “you and your team are bad-assed to the max. All this ammo…un-freakin’-real.”
“So, I’m getting closer to being as bad assed as Jules, Andie, Rae, and Johnny?”
Len cocked his head, took Beth’s elbow gently, eased her to the side while the rest got Earl to sickbay, and exclaimed over all the supplies. “Where did that come from?”
Beth shrugged, sorry she had said anything. She averted her eyes from Len and watched the rest of her team doing high-fives and Hannah showing off her new sword.
“Beth,” Len tried, “you feel those other woman are pretty tough?”
“I know they are.”
“I’ve seen Rae puke her guts up, and I saw Jules cry over her parents’ graves. Johnny bawled when her poor hand was mashed, and Andie vanished; does that make them weak?”
“No, they are human. They are some strong women.”
“Same as you. We act human; we act tough, each as we can. I’ve seen you face raiders with fire in your eyes and shoot zeds mercilessly. You always watch everyone’s safety before your own, and you ride a horse like an Amazon.”
“I fell apart about Kim. And I fell apart when people were killed on my watch back at George’s house.”
“And you picked yourself back up.Beth, you are one of only a handful I know that I trust with my own life,” Len told her. He blushed furiously when she hugged him.
“What do you think Earl will tell us?”
Beth shrugged. “I’ve been steadily wondering that. I hope he makes it because he’s a good guy, but I also hope he lives so he can tell us about Kim, Mark, and Andie.”
“Yes. But we’d know anyway. Hang on.”
Beth called to John, “John, go with Doc, and tell him about what else we found: the medical stuff.” She gave Len a brief outline of the injections and salve and what they had seen.
“Glad you checked that girl and saw her two wounds, but what do you think it means? A cure?”
“No. I don’t think there’s a cure, but I think the injection can help delay the infection or something like that. I don’t want to have a need to test it, but it’s interesting, and maybe Doc will understand it more than I do,” said Beth.
“No matter what, it’s a big find.” He sat down and had Beth sit with him. Len decided that right then, he needed to pick her brain more than anything else. He asked more questions and was as puzzled as she was.
Beth told him about the mess hall, and he laughed about Carl swinging on chains, fascinated that the Zs had forgotten him once they could no longer see and hear him. “So Carl was swinging, and you had some ‘going all Bruce Lee’ on them, and you were on top of a table? That’s pretty funny, Beth.”
“Funnier now than it was then,” Beth said. She told him about Carl and Hannah’s chopped victim.
“Hannah is pretty brave, isn’t she?”
“Brave. Foolish. Smart. I worry about her being safe, and then she amazes me with something like that: a sword of all things.”
Len smirked. “She’s always been partial to a hands-on approach.”
“Choppy-choppy,” Beth said as she sighed, “she’s a hoot.”
“Everything okay with her?”
“It’s fine, why?”
“Just here if you need me.” Len smiled at Beth. “Medical break-through, supplies, ammo, guns by the truck load, pets, Earl, and no injuries; how can anyone ever top that haul?”
“We can’t.” Julia walked over and collapsed onto a bench. “Really, Beth, did you have to show us up that badly?”
“I would say it was all luck, but it was our pure brilliance,” Beth said.
“I’ll see if we can even come close with my new team,” Julia promised. “You did good. Everyone is acting as if it’s Christmas with all the ammo.
Did you know grenades are in that haul, along with vests, a small case of knives, and all kinds of goodies? We’ll all be fine with rifles, side arms, and plenty of ammo, plus the goodies and big stuff.”
“She set a high bar,” Len said.
“Yes, yes, ”Julia said in apparent defeat, but she smiled slyly, “Wonder how you all will react when I bring in my haul?”
“Target?”
“The Sam’s Club Warehouse.”
Beth and Len stared at her. “Umm, Len, can she do that?”
“Seems unfair to me,” he said, “maybe I should handle that one.”
“I should since I did so well on this haul,” Beth teased.
“No way, you are both evil people,” Julia said, back on her feet, “I’ve already put it on the schedule.”
“I have an eraser,” Len jumped up and chased her.
Beth stood and stretched, calling to her team, “Hit the showers, and rest up, or do something less strenuous this evening; we have training skills tomorrow and horse patrol.”
She hesitated only a second, “That means, you, Miss Hannah; if you’re going to use a sword, then, someone had better train you to use it. Find a mentor before morning.”
Hannah grinned wide, and she and Jet took off at a run.
At dinner, incredible aromas met everyone at the door of the mess hall. Someone called out,“The new chef wanted to use some of the rice for a new dish. So tuna sandwiches and beef stew are here for those who feel picky; the spaghetti and sauce that was planned for tonight will put off for a later night.”
Beth and Julia in line. “Did you all hear about what they caught at the far pond today?”
“An alligator. Creepy,” Beth said.
“Umm. No way,” said Julia as she slapped her forehead.
“He is Cajun,” Johnny replied with laughter.
“You mean? Oh, my God, no way,” Beth began, laughing with the rest. “I love it, but then Louisiana is just over there, so it’s normal to me, but some will freak.”
The new chef had not been a snob, so he used a big iron pot set outside for his masterpiece, throwing in different kinds of veggies and spices that kept everyone who walked by guessing and wondering, but excited at the delicious scent.
He filled big bowls with rice and then his gumbo for those waiting, adding slabs of bread to the sides. “Seafood gumbo with okra, onions, peppers, and spices, full of fish, you’ll love it. Add some pepper or pepper sauce as you wish.”
Len looked at the bowls Julia, Beth, Juan, George, and Johnny held.
“Wow, this is incredible,” Beth said. The others agreed, their mouths full.
“What is it?”
“It’s gumbo, Len, seafood, well, not shrimp but the same idea, and it’s great,” Johnny told him.
“I heard,” Len blanched, “I heard that they used that alligator and crawfish the kids caught.” He looked mortally offended.
“Right, blacken the meat with spices by searing it; then, it is a kind of stew with filet gumbo and roux to thicken it, and next add the veggies; the stew is good.” Julia ate hers. “I’m gonna have seconds and maybe thirds.”
“Get me some more, too,” Juan handed her his bowl.
“Let me try.” Alex took his spoon and got some from Beth’s bowl, some of the others watching him carefully and clenching their jaws. After two bites, he went to get his own and a refill for George.
Teeg and Len finally gave in and tried some, their faces lighting up. Teeg went to get them bowls and Beth a refill.
Others, watching, gave the gumbo a try from the bowls of friends, and soon, almost everyone was eating the gumbo and praising the new cook.
He went around to see how it was received and was glad when everyone hoped another alligator would be caught and served, soon.
Juan thought about it. “I guess…well…why can’t we kind of raise them, the ‘gators? It would be a food source, and we could throw out scraps for them, fence the pond.”
Len considered it. “I never thought I would eat one, much less be a fan of it, but it makes sense. Let’s get that plan on the list.”
“It would ensure no one would get far if he did get over the fence…with ‘gators ready to eat him…added security,” Johnny said, returning.
After the children ate, they vanished with their teachers, and Jet, Hannah, and several of the teens went along, all grinning with some secret that they had with Jilly Montaine and the teachers.
The adults watched them with amusement, wondering what had captured their attention and how so many could keep a secret. The adults were promised they would see soon.
Beth slumped into a chair after giving some short lessons for horse back riding to more of the team members. She was in the new library section that the children had been organizing; it was growing. Her next outing would seem odd to some, but she wanted to raid the city library and bring back more books they could use.
“Hey.” John smiled as he sat down close to her.
“Hi there.” She held up her book about cattle. “I thought I better learn a little about how to drive cows since we have so many now and I ride.”
“You ever feel as if we have to know about a dozen jobs right now?”
“A dozen? How’d you get by with so few?” She rolled her eyes with sarcasm. “I feel as if I have to know about fifty lately. It was…not so much when we were back in the hospital.”
“Was it better then?”
“I had Kim then. But no, this is far better here. He will love it,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad. I was just wondering how it compared.”
“We scavenged for supplies and found survivors then, but it was on a smaller scale by far. I was always exhausted then, too, but it was…well…closed and is
olated. The world seemed small. Now, there’s so much to do, and all seem endless, the possibilities I mean.”
“Len says we’ll have plenty of food for the winter with people canning. And security seems tight.”
“It does feel safe, and I have never eaten so well,” Beth admitted, feeling her full belly. It’s just that we need more and more before it’s all gone, weird, not televisions or electronics now, other stuff: basics.”
“I checked; Earl is still out. He came around for a few seconds, and Doc said he just cried to know he was back home and safe; he’s resting better now.”
“Is he gonna make it?”
“Doc says Earl is critical, but he thinks that with rest, food, and care, Earl could make it.He said another two days and baring anything big, Earl should be alert after that. I heard another nurse came in today, and Doc is training all of the nurses to be doctors….” John chuckled. “Crash courses.”
“We have a priest and a preacher, too.”
“That sounds like the start of a bad joke: a priest and a preacher go into a commune at the end of time….”
Beth laughed with him until she cried.
“Mom?”
“Hannah…Katie…how’d you find me?”
“We asked.” Hannah looked at her adopted mother and John. “Are you okay, Mom? You’re crying.”
“I was laughing at a joke, Honey. You worry too much.” Beth gathered Katie into her arms. “Did you find a mentor for that sword, Hannah?”
“Pak is going to teach us martial arts and teach me sword fighting.”
“Good. Those kicks he does are impressive, and we can all learn from him.” Beth said it was time for bed and carried Katie. “G’night, John.”
“Let me grab a book.” Hannah waved her on. When the door closed, she looked at John curiously, “What were you doing here with my mom?”
“Giving her an update on Earl. He’s doing pretty well.”
“Good. Yanno, Mom is married.”
“I know…to Kimball. I understand he is quite a fellow: a hero even.”
