The Systemic Series - Box Set

by K. W. Callahan

  “Just keep your guard up and be ready to duck into the shadows if you see someone coming. Best at this point just to try to stay out of the way until all this mess shakes itself out. There are a lot of people around here who want someone to lay down the law and put some order to the chaos that’s been going on. But some are happy with the way things are. And those people are willing to fight to keep it that way.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” I shook his hand. “We aren’t looking for any trouble. We’ve had more than our fair share.”

  “Haven’t we all,” nodded Myron grimly.

  “By the way,” I said as I picked up the box of fruit and fish, and grabbed a gallon container of water, “you have any insulin?”

  “Insulin?” Myron shook his head. “No. Don’t see many medical supplies like that through here,” he said. He held up the aspirin bottle we’d traded, “Mostly stuff like this…aspirin, vitamins, cold medicine, sometimes some erectile dysfunction pills, occasionally some antibiotics, but rarely anything like insulin…sorry.”

  “Thanks anyway,” I said. “Thought I’d try. You know of anywhere they might have that kind of stuff?”

  He thought for a minute, “Might try downtown. That’s where the main market is. Lot of the specialty goods show up there.”

  “Thanks again,” I said as we headed back to rejoin the rest of the group.

  “My pleasure,” Myron waved as we left. “Come back any time!”

  We sheltered for the rest of the night in the little ranch-style home. We ate fruit, dried fish, and tried to rehydrate while at the same time conserving some of our water supply for the remainder of the trip. We only had a few more miles until we reached downtown, but with all the fighting that was supposedly going on, we didn’t have any idea just how long it would take to make it there.

  We heard gunfire and caught the sounds of distant explosions later that afternoon. It kept up throughout the evening and as we tried to sleep that night, the fighting wore on in the Miami area. Will, Dad, and I shared the night watch.

  The next morning, we took a vote on how best to proceed. We wanted to get moving again, but we also didn’t want to get caught up in the fighting taking place around the city.

  The group as a whole decided to shelter in place until the fighting died down. We could afford to wait a little while, and we all admitted that we needed the rest. The area around us seemed relatively calm for the moment, so we hunkered down in the little home for almost two weeks. We bartered the few remaining excess supplies we had to Myron for meager amounts of food and water, and continued to gather information about what was going on in the rest of the city. Finally it sounded as though the fighting had diminished – or at least moved on to places far enough away – and so it was time for us to proceed.

  We waited until night to depart on what we hoped would be the last stint of the Miami leg of our trip. Not only did we want to avoid any residual fighting that might still be going on along our route, but the night brought with it cooler temperatures. The problem was, at night the bugs were worse, and by the time we actually made it to the shores of Biscayne Bay, we looked like a group of the walking dead. And while we may have appeared to be wandering zombies, we were the ones being eaten alive by Florida’s creepy-crawlies.

  We didn’t spend much time looking for shelter once we’d reached the coast. We worked our way out to Miami Beach, found an old apartment building, and quickly settled down in hopes of soon being on our way out of Miami and on to a place where we could finally enjoy safety, security, solitude, and some peace and quiet.

  CHAPTER 9

  While Jake might not have gotten it, Ava realized just what handing over control to their generals truly meant. It meant that, in all likelihood, eventually one or more of them would grow too big for his britches and make some sort of power play. It could take a year, two years, maybe longer, but one day, one of these men would most likely become weary of hefting what he felt was a heavy load for someone else. And even though Jake and Ava had provided their own little fiefdoms until they handed over power to one of their family members or just grew old and retired, it wouldn’t be enough. They’d grow greedy or power hungry and either try to pull in several or even all of the other generals to assist them in their move, or maybe just go it alone.

  When Ava told Jake this one evening as they lay beneath the soft silk sheets of their master-suite’s oversized king bed after a ferocious, lust-filled sex romp, he told her she was crazy. Jake thought in terms of weeks, and more often in terms of just days or even hours; therefore, to be considering what would happen in a year or two seemed ridiculous and unnecessarily long-term to him.

  “I might not even be alive tomorrow. Why should I worry about what’s going to happen next year?” he asked her incredulously.

  “Because, if and when next year rolls around, and you haven’t thought about it, and you find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun held by someone you thought you could trust, you’ll find out exactly why you should have thought about it,” she warned.

  “Okay,” Jake gave in. “So what are we supposed to do about it?”

  “We rotate staff,” she said.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jake frowned at her, rolling over and lighting two cigarettes, one of which he handed to Ava.

  Ava was getting tired of having to explain every little detail of their operation to the organization’s “leader” each time she made a decision.

  “It means that we keep our generals on their toes by not allowing them to build too much loyalty among the men under their direct control,” she told Jake. “We don’t want their neighborhoods becoming unorganized because we’re constantly moving their teams around, but we also don’t want them getting so organized that they can begin plotting against us.”

  “So how do we do that?” Jake shook his head, still not getting it.

  “Here’s what I was thinking,” Ava said. It was actually what she’d already decided to do, but she had to put it to Jake in these terms so that he could mull the idea, make it his own, and then convince himself that it was his and that he should take credit for it. “We rotate half of each general’s men to another general every month. The following month, we rotate the other half in a cyclical rotation throughout the year. In this way, they continue to utilize the same labor pool, but the generals don’t become so familiar with the men – and vice versa – that they begin to build their own little armies.”

  Jake nodded, sucking on his cigarette, thinking.

  “It’s not a perfect plan,” Ava said. “I don’t think there is a perfect plan, but if it doesn’t completely eliminate the chance of a coup, it at least significantly decreases the chances of such an event by inhibiting the processes involved in getting something like that organized. It also increases the likelihood of a leak among the men should something start to take shape that would allow us to quash any potential uprising before it takes shape.”

  Jake nodded again, “I like it,” he said. “Let me sleep on it,” he crushed out his cigarette in an ash tray atop the nightstand and then rolled over on top of Ava for another round.

  Ava knew that when Jake said he liked something, he’d already made up his mind to go with her idea and make it his own. This pleased her just enough to make his presence atop her again bearable.

  * * *

  Jake and Ava found that their organization rapidly settled in and expanded its role of controlling Miami. The vast majority of the area residents willingly accepted their leadership and even seemed to like having some structure in their incredibly difficult and dangerous post-flu lives. It was as though they had been waiting for someone to come along and put a little clarity into a world where the road ahead was anything but clear.

  Jake and Ava also discovered that resources in Miami were far greater than they had been in Atlanta. They seized entire tanker trucks full of gasoline and even a cargo ship full of the oil.

  The sex trade was good in Miami, but the sex t
rade was good everywhere. What Jake and Ava found most changed from their Atlanta experience was the state of the food supply. The food trade was fantastic due to local farmers. A large portion of the population had undertaken agricultural roles due to their ability to grow a variety of foods throughout the year in Miami’s tropical climate. There was an abundant supply of fresh fruit, vegetables, and of course, seafood.

  Better yet, people appeared to be quite open to Jake and Ava’s idea for a currency with which to transact their trade. There’d been a lot of confusion and disagreement about how to handle barter-style commerce where one side was offering a good or service as payment for which the other side had no need. And there was constant paranoia about how to keep the variety of currencies being used secure from theft, which posed an ever-present threat.

  As Jake and Ava’s “Banks for Bullets” program was introduced, it caught on like wildfire. It was their first big initiative as the rulers of Miami and it cemented their place as leaders who could add structure and security to a city that was lacking the rules necessary to regulate the human beast.

  With entire warehouses full of ammunition, Jake and Ava controlled the treasury from which they could release funds into or withdraw currency out of their local economy. And since they had jurisdiction over almost everything that was coming into the city or leaving its confines, more such currency flowing into or escaping – without their permission of course – was next to impossible. Therefore, they could control the purchase power of their currency as needed.

  Having banks for the populace to safely stash their little hoards made the people feel more secure. And knowing that they had the power to confiscate these funds if they ever deemed it necessary, made Jake and Ava feel secure.

  Things were shaping up just as Ava had envisioned, and as long as there was a bottle of booze and people to worship him close by, Jake was happy too…kind of.

  * * *

  The bottle missed her head by a foot – maybe less – and smashed against the penthouse wall, dowsing her with tequila.

  “I’m not going to tolerate this sort of insolence!” Jake yelled.

  “Insolence” was a big word for Jake, and Ava wondered where he’d picked it up.

  “This is your fault! You should have squashed those bugs down in Little Havana when you had the chance. This is what I get for leaving it up to a woman!” he growled at her as he paced like a caged animal around the penthouse living room. He angrily swatted a small lamp off a nearby table and watched as it smashed on the floor. “It’s your fault, and I expect you to fix it! I’ve got other shit to deal with, so clean it the fuck up!”

  Jake stormed out of the penthouse to continue raging elsewhere. Ava was sure he’d probably just wander downstairs and drown his sorrows in another bottle of tequila. Jake’s drinking had always been at what one might consider a “professional” level, but lately he had achieved a true expertise in the art of getting wasted.

  Now that they had won Miami, they had their own little empire, and things were running smoothly – except this Little Havana glitch which was minor in the overall scheme of things – Ava was starting to notice some troubling signs in Jake.

  Jake had never been one to just sit around and enjoy the good life. He needed an occasional challenge to keep him occupied and interested. His whole life had been one big challenge, and without that struggle, it appeared that he didn’t really know what to do with himself. It seemed that Ava’s hope that Jake could just sit back and enjoy the ride after all the effort they’d put forth, wasn’t coming to fruition – just the opposite in fact. He seemed unhappier now than she had ever seen him; and worse yet, they’d barely been living the good life for a month.

  Jake had never liked the fact that Ava had bypassed Little Havana during their bid for control of the city. However, he was willing to let it go if she dealt with those who controlled the neighborhood and ensured they made their payments to him on time. However, the Little Havana leadership had been a few days late with their most recent payment, thus Jake’s little tirade.

  Ava was content to deal with the problem. The deck had been stacked against her for too long, and she needed every advantage she could lay her hands on. Little Havana was one of several aces she had up her sleeve and she was happy to keep it well hidden from Jake until the time was right. Up until now, all business with Little Havana had been conducted by Ava through Mad Dog in an effort to help distance herself from the situation. But Ava now felt it was time to become more intimately involved. After taking several minutes to pen two quick letters, she rode the elevator down three floors to where they had converted an entire floor of the condo building into offices for their operation. There she found two couriers.

  Communications were now handled either by way of radio or couriers, and Ava preferred couriers since they provided some level of privacy. Most radio transmissions could be picked up by eavesdropping outsiders.

  She handed an addressed envelope to each of the men. She placed no names on the envelopes, just addresses in case they were intercepted by Jake or one of the men loyal to him.

  “When you get to this address, ask for Bushy, and give him, and only him, this envelope,” she emphasized to the first courier. “Leave his response to my inquiry at this location,” she handed him a slip of paper with another address written on it.

  She waited as he hustled off, and then she turned to the second courier. “Go to this address and ask for Rico,” she told him, nodding at the envelope she’d handed him. “Leave his response to my inquiry in the mail drop at this location,” she handed him a slip of paper with an address different than that she’d given the other courier.

  He nodded and quickly followed his counterpart.

  After they were gone, Ava took a deep breath, tilting her head to one side to stretch her stiff and tension-filled neck. She felt completely alone, but she hoped that this was soon to change.

  “And now I wait,” she exhaled softly to herself.

  CHAPTER 10

  The apartment house we selected to set up camp was nothing special. We chose it largely because it appeared deserted. We selected two apartments on the third floor, checked that entry doors to the building were secured behind us, and then crashed out, exhausted.

  We didn’t even take time to unpack.

  It was around one in the morning as we shrugged off our packs and shed large portions of our disgusting clothes that we piled inside a closet so we could close the door and distance ourselves from the stench. Then we found spots where we could rest comfortably, which didn’t take long considering that most of us were so tired we could have slept on a bed of nails and not even known it.

  Since we’d had to kick in the two apartments’ entry doors upon arrival, we hung silverware that would jingle and jangle on the handles as our entry alarms and shoved sofas in front of the doors to slow the entrance of any uninvited entrants. It was far from perfect security, but considering our physical condition upon arrival, it was better than nothing.

  I volunteered for the first shift on watch. I really didn’t want to. I was just as exhausted as the others. But since we were in a new place and had no idea if we were truly alone or if it would remain that way if we were, we felt it pertinent to have someone on guard duty keeping an eye out for trouble.

  I found staying awake a tough battle as the others began to doze off around me. The two-bedroom apartments were hot and stuffy, and I was still itchy from bug bites and lack of bathing; but all things considered, I was happy to have arrived at our location and have everyone sleeping in real beds in a relatively secure environment.

  I walked around our apartment and opened as many windows as I could to let some of the sea breeze sweep through. While the breeze wasn’t exactly cool, it was slightly less humid than the stuffy apartment interior, and it helped circulate the oppressive layer of moisture that had accumulated inside. Then I went and sat down in a chair at a small table near the kitchen of our particular apartment.

  Afte
r a few minutes of sitting in the darkness, I realized that I was quickly becoming drowsy and starting to nod off. So I grabbed a flashlight and took to roaming the hallways of the third floor, checking a few of apartments in search of any supplies that might be useful. Cashmere came with me, curiously poking her little nose into nooks and crannies, rummaging among piles of trash or clothing, sniffing around baseboards, and occasionally batting a bit of rubbish or other dropped item around the floor with a paw.

  It was nice to have her company.

  There wasn’t much to see in most of the apartments, but if nothing else, searching them helped keep me awake. In one apartment, I found an unused tube of toothpaste in the bedroom medicine cabinet. In another, I found two open bottles of aspirin and a collection of fishing poles and assorted gear in a hallway closet. In yet another, I discovered several containers of herbs and seasonings as well as an unopened can of corn and another of canned meat.

  I made my searches as thorough as possible in the dark Miami night, opening shelves, cabinets, desk drawers, and closets, killing quite a bit of time in the process.

  Before I knew it, it was nearly four o’ clock.

  I was still exhausted, but I felt good that I’d been productive and found a few supplies, and I was particularly excited about the fishing poles since I had them on my list to accumulate once we arrived to Miami. I hoped we could do some fishing to help reacquaint those of us who hadn’t fished for a while as well as teach those who had never fished before. Best of all, Sharron – our group vegetarian – was willing to eat seafood, which alleviated some of the burden from the food procurement process.

  I hauled my finds back to our apartment, stashed them as quietly as I could, and woke Will, who had the four to seven a.m. shift.

  He wasn’t happy to see me, but he begrudgingly took up his assignment.

  “I killed time searching some of the apartments up here,” I told him.