by Jessy Cruise
At dinner that night Skip sat with Christine at a table near the front of the room. He made sure that Jack, who wanted nothing more than to sleep the night away, was sitting there as well. Even Paula, who was not quite recovered from her pesticide exposure, dragged herself into the gym and had a seat. The four of them ate in silence, with no other people seated at their table. They ignored the stares and the pointed fingers that were directed their way.
Though official community meetings usually were begun after everyone had finished eating, Jessica started this one early. It was obvious that the events of the day had wrecked havoc on everyone's appetite. Most of the food went untouched. She mounted the small podium that had been extricated from another part of the center and turned on the battery powered public address system that was used for such things. After tapping the microphone a few times, she began.
"This meeting is hereby called to order," she said, pounding her gavel on the podium (Skip wondered for the hundredth time where she had even found a gavel. Had it come from some judge's house?) The murmur of conversation died down much faster than it normally did at such times. "I'd like to begin by explaining the events of this morning to you in as much detail as I've been able to gleam," she said. "By now I'm sure every last one of you knows that an armed force entered the town at eight this morning and caused the deaths of five people and the wounding of three. I will relate what I know as was told to me by our so-called security chief, Mr. Adams."
There was somewhat of a titter at her words. Skip didn't mind. He had expected no less from her.
"As best we can tell," Jessica went on, "a group of sixteen men climbed over the wall near guard positions 2 and 3 at some point early this morning, before sunrise. They moved into position near those posts and, at eight o'clock this morning, they attacked the two guard positions. At position 2, they managed to throw pesticide bombs in through the window. This caused the death of Missy Black, Jeff Hollister, and Lenny Long. At position 3, Paula Westover and Brenda Callahan were able to see the invaders before they managed to throw their bombs in. The bomb throwers were killed but the remaining team fired upon the position and killed Brenda. Paula was able to get the word out that an invasion was taking place and that is what prompted the response you saw this morning.
"As you are aware, the invaders joined up and began moving towards the community center. Their goal, again this is according to Mr. Adams based upon a discussion he had with a captured invader, was to take over the community center and steal our food supply. At some point between the guard positions and the community center, the group broke up into two again, one approaching from the west and one approaching from the east. Now Mick Engle took charge of the group defending us from the east. His group suffered no casualties of any kind and managed to kill all of the invaders. On the west however, I'm sad to say that the group led by Mr. Adams suffered one dead and two wounded fighting a group of four people. Eventually these invaders were all killed as well."
She paused for a moment while everyone discussed what she had said among themselves. When they finally piped down, she gave them a concerned and hurt look, one that seemed to be, to each individual watching, directed at them. "This is a very tragic event that has taken place here today," she said. "Words cannot even begin to describe how it feels to know that the town I am a part of was attacked and that friends of mine - Missy, Brenda, Jeff, Lenny, and Rick - are no longer with us because of it. Like you, I wanted to know how such a thing as this could have been allowed to happen in the first place. Who is responsible for it?" She let that linger in the air for a few moments. "I'll tell you," she went on, "we don't have to look terribly far to find the answer to this question. The party that needs to answer for this gross lack of security is the man that we, inadvisably it seems now, put in charge of that security in the first place. That person, as you all know, is Skip Adams."
There was an angry babble of voices and all eyes turned to Skip, who simply sat there, looking up at Jessica with a blank expression on his face.
"This is a man," Jessica went on, "that has brought considerable turmoil to this town since he came here. He snuck in here one night under the cover of darkness and managed to sweet talk and charm his way into your hearts. With the assistance of our so-called committee member Paul..." she shot an angry look at him, letting him know that she was going for his blood as well, "... he was voted into our town by popular decree, despite a committee vote barring him. Now I do not blame you good people for giving him your support in the beginning. Not at all. He was a handsome, virile looking man in a town where men are scarce. He seemed friendly and knowledgeable and he led us to believe that he would be a valuable asset. It is perfectly understandable that he led many of us in.
"But now, after all that we know about him, especially after this fiasco that has resulted in the deaths... the deaths... of five of our friends, I think it is time to reevaluate Mr. Adams' welcome among us. Now had the criminal lack of security that he was responsible for been the only thing, I believe that we might have found it in our hearts to allow him to remain a citizen - although not a security chief. But this is not the only character flaw we have found about him, is it?"
Another angry murmur went up. Skip again continued to look passively forward, not reacting to her words.
"No," she said, answering her own question. "It is not. There have been charges of vote influence against him in the shameless way he gets Paul to vote his will each and every time. There have been charges of reckless use of supply room stocks such as ammunition and even alcohol and marijuana. There has even been some evidence of improper sexual behavior with that young boy he shared a house with."
"I hadn't heard that one," Skip whispered to Paula, still keeping his face neutral.
"And now," Jessica continued, her voice raising dramatically, "I have discovered even more despicable acts that he has committed. This very afternoon he admitted to me in person that he has been having sexual relations with Christine, the sixteen-year-old girl that has been living with him. He admitted this to me! And that is not all either. He also told me that the young girl is now pregnant, and that he thinks he should be allowed to continue to live with her. This man is a common rapist! He has usurped the morals of that poor young girl and now he wants to live with her!" She shook her head in bewilderment. "Well I for one am here to tell you that I am beyond shocked. I know that you, the good people of this town, have no intention of letting this menace stay here for another night.
"Now as you all know, the attack this morning gravely wounded Dale, my dear companion and a committee member. That leaves us without a full committee and without the ability to obtain a clear majority on any Micker until such time as Dale gets better or, God forbid, we are forced to replace him. However, there are still important decisions that need to be decided upon, most critically at this moment, what we should do about the criminal that walks among us."
Some cries of "yes", and "that's right" came from the audience.
"It is my suggestion," Jessica said, "that in the interim, critical decisions such as this should be made by a vote of the entire community. Unless there are any objections..." she looked at Paul and Skip as she said this, her expression daring them to object, "... I think that it would be appropriate to make and vote on motions right here, right now. I believe that a simple majority for routine Mickers would suffice, and a two-thirds majority for such Mickers as exile."
The crowd obviously liked this idea. Neither Paul nor Skip nor anyone else had any objections to it. Jessica looked at them a little suspiciously - she obviously had a speech planned in the event that that happened - but they simply stared back at her.
"Okay," she said, throwing off her suspicions, thinking that maybe they realized their number was up. "Let's vote this in and make it official. I move that that the community, in the absence of a full committee, should have the power to vote upon issues at hand during that time period. A simple majority for routine Mickers and a two-thirds majority for i
ssues involving exile. Do I have a second for the motion?"
Dozens of cries of "I second" were shouted out.
"Then let's vote on the Micker. All in favor say aye."
The ayes were so loud that it almost hurt the ears.
"All opposed?" Jessica asked snidely.
A few nays were meekly offered, mostly from the men or from those at Skip's table. Skip himself did not vote.
"The motion is clearly passed," Jessica said, pounding her gavel. "This community has just empowered itself to vote on these issues. And now that it has done so, I move that we vote on the exile of Skip Adams from the town of Garden Hill on charges of gross negligence and various sex crimes. Since this is exile, two-thirds must vote in favor. Do I have a second?"
"Skip," Paula whispered frantically, as dozens more people seconded her motion, "they're about to vote you out of town! Isn't it about time you did something?"
"Yes," he said, cracking his knuckles. "It's about time."
"There is a motion on the floor," Jessica, almost giddy now that she sensed her moment at hand, told the crowd. "The motion is whether or not to exile Skip Adams from the town of Garden Hill. All in favor..."
"Wait," Skip said, standing up, his voice easily carrying throughout the room. People began to catcall to him, telling him to sit down.
"There is no waiting, Mr. Adams," Jessica told him, a smile upon her face. "We are in the midst of a vote."
"Are you going to vote me out of this town without even giving me a chance to defend myself against your charges?" he asked her. "That's not very democratic, is it?"
"I hardly think you have a defense that we would want to listen to," she said.
"But nevertheless," he said, turning to look at the sea of hostile faces, "is that not my right? Were we not once Americans? Will you sentence me to death out there without even hearing what I have to say for myself? Surely you people are not that callous, are you?"
There was a confused muttering of voices at his words as they tried to find fault with them and failed. He had struck a chord with them, that was plain to see. Jessica, no slouch at reading the mood of crowds, could see this as well.
"I think we've heard enough lies from this man," she told the room. "I see no reason to hear any more. Now, back to the motion. All in favor..."
"No," a voice called. It was Paul, who was standing up on his seat. "He has a right to be heard. Let him talk."
Paula was the next. "I agree. If we're going to send someone out there, we at least have the responsibility to hear his side of the story first."
"Unless," Skip, seeing his opening, put in, "Jessica is afraid to let me speak. Maybe she's scared that I'll say something to cut her influence down."
There was an excited babble this time. Jessica's face reddened in anger. But still, he had neatly trapped her. "Very well," she said, feigning disinterest. "Go ahead and have your little speech."
"Thank you," he said, walking over to the lectern and taking his place behind it. Jessica reluctantly gave him space.
He looked out over at the crowd, seeing hatred for him in most of their faces, hatred that Jessica had placed there. They were expecting him to beg for mercy, to throw himself upon them. He did no such thing. "You people out there," he said, his voice tough, the voice he had used when addressing suspects, "are pathetic."
An angry outburst followed these words, an outburst that caused both Paula and Christine to bury their faces in their hands and wonder if he knew what he was doing.
Skip, ignoring the outcry, simply went on. "Look at yourselves," he told them. "Look at what you're doing, look at who you're following. You people are being led by the nose like fucking sheep by this manipulative bitch."
While the latest outburst sounded itself, Jessica stepped up towards him. "That will be quite enough," she told him, grabbing at his arm.
"No," said Paul, grabbing at her arm and pulling her back. "Let him speak."
"But..."
"Let him speak," he repeated, loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. "It's about time someone told the truth around here."
"Here, here," said Paula.
"I'm not here to apologize for my actions," Skip went on, his voice booming through the speaker. "I'm not here to beg for mercy. If you people want to vote me out of this town after I've had my say, then you're a lost cause anyway and I'll be glad to go. You'll all die soon and the human race will be better off without you."
That got their attention. The voices quieted down so quickly that it was almost as if a switch had been thrown.
"People," Skip said. "I've got some news for you all. Perhaps you haven't noticed this, but a fucking comet has struck our planet and wiped out almost everything. We are all that is left here, do you understand that? We aren't simply hanging in there until the National Guard gets its shit together. We're not just biding our time until the President diverts some relief funds in our direction. This planet is dead. The civilization that we grew up with and worshipped is dead. There is nothing left but us and the society that we make here. There are people out there that would like to kill us, that would like to take the meager food reserves we have left, but that is it. All we have is what we can make or find. There is no help coming here. We are alone and we are in the direst of straights imaginable!
"And what do you, the survivors of this disaster, the future hope of the human race, what do you spend your time doing? Do you spend it trying to figure out ways to get food so we can survive until the sun comes out? Do you spend it trying to figure out ways to protect yourselves from those that are starving and desperate? No, you don't. You spend your time trying to pretend that you are all still high society women and looking down on others. You spend your time screwing each other at every turn, both literally and figuratively, and then criticizing those who do the same thing. We don't have that many people in this town yet you have somehow managed to perpetuate the petty prejudices that we used to hold so dear. For God's sake people, what the hell are you doing?"
He looked at them all, disgust clearly evident upon his face. No one answered him or made a noise. Not even Jessica.
"Do you people realize how stupid you look from an outsider's perspective? Do you realize that you've empowered a woman to lead you that has a clear-cut psychological problem? Why do you follow her? Why do you listen to her? I've heard you talk about her ever since I've been here. You call her a bitch, you deride her for her superior attitude towards you, you agree among yourselves that she is a callous, calculating person who is only out for herself, but you follow her! You cluster around her and try to impress her because she comes across like she's better than you are. And worst of all, you listen to her. You know she's untrustworthy but you listen to her and you pretend to agree with everything she says because everyone else is doing it. She has been playing you for fools probably since long before the comet impact. Look what you were just about to do because she riled you all up. You were just about to vote me out of town, to exile me to death out there in the wilderness, and you were willing to do this without even hearing my side of the story. Everybody knows that Jessica exaggerates and twists everything to suit whatever her viewpoint happens to be, yet you were about to yell out aye to her vote, weren't you? Weren't you?"
Skip could now see doubt showing on many faces before him.
"Shall I tell you my side of the story now?" he asked them. "Shall I? Would you like to hear a different version of how this attack came to take five lives? Would you like to hear a different version of how I molested that young girl that lives with me? Or should I just leave right now? If you are so led by her, if you are so convinced that I'm bad man that you don't want to hear my side, just say aye. If more than ten people say it, I'll leave here right now, in the clothes that I'm wearing. If just ten say it! So how about it?"
Not a single person said anything. Not even Jessica, who was staring at him in fear.
"Okay," he said, his voice dropping a little bit of the roughness. "I can see t
hat I have your attention. So let's talk. Let's start with the attack, shall we? Now Jessica had the basic facts fairly accurate, but she left out a few pertinent points. The attackers came over the wall at two o'clock this morning after they had observed our actions for the last few days from the hill overlooking the northeast side of town. Now I don't know if any of you have ever bothered to go climb this particular hill, either before the comet or after, but the view from up there is quite impressive. You can see almost the entire northern wall. You can see the freeway approaches. You can see damn near the entire subdivision itself. And most important of all, you can see all of the ground between the freeway and the point where those invaders made their entry. These invaders found that a particularly fine place to observe us from. It allowed them to gather the intelligence that they needed to stage their attack.
"Now, it may interest you to know that I spotted this hill on my second day here and that I identified it as the perfect place to move a guard position to. From atop this hill, our guards could not only engage any invaders long before they reached the wall, they could see any invaders approaching long before they got close enough to spot the wall. I made a strong recommendation that we construct and man a guard position there for that very reason. You see, I entered this town on the premise that I was knowledgeable in security Mickers such as this and that my expertise would be helpful. I was under the impression that my suggestions would be taken seriously. However, Jessica voted down this recommendation. Dale, who as you know, votes however Jessica does, added his vote to the tally and the suggestion was defeated."
"Dale does not vote the way that I do every time!" Jessica shouted. "Don't think that trying to shift blame to someone who is wounded and unable to defend himself in front of you is going to help you."
"Do you deny that you controlled Dale's votes?" Skip asked her.
"Of course I deny it!" she yelled. "Dale voted however he wanted."
