by Steven Smith
Murphy nodded again. "Okay. How do we work this?"
"First, let's get you some food. We all carry scout rations, so I'll call in the squad and we'll start getting some protein into you all. How are you fixed for water?"
"We're okay. Probably two weeks’ worth."
"Good. I have to go meet with a community tomorrow to explain what we're going to do in the area. I'll be back at Stonemont the next day, then it will probably be another day before we get back to you."
Murphy nodded. "We'll be here."
27
Christian woke the next morning to what seemed to be a recurring theme. "Late sleeper, huh?" Naomi asked.
It had taken less than an hour to get the scouts' rations to the Murphy’s and back to Naomi's position, then another hour to get back to the barn after picking up Jerry. Both had seemed quieter than usual, with Jerry staying a bit farther away from Christian and Naomi a bit closer. Now, she stood over him again with a cup of coffee in her hands.
"That for me?" he asked.
"I was beginning to think I'd have to hold it till spring."
Christian smiled and got to his elbows. "Thanks."
She handed the cup down to him. "Today's the big day."
Christian took a sip of the coffee, wondering what she was talking about, then remembered the meeting at the school.
"How do you think it will go?" she asked.
Christian took another sip and shrugged. "We'll know soon enough. I'll just tell them what Jim told me to. I think it's a good idea." Then, remembering that it had been her idea in the first place, he looked up at her. "How about you talking to them, too?"
She gave him a quizzical look. "Me? Why me?"
"Because it was your idea to begin with. You'll put a softer feel to it. You have a good way about you."
She was surprised at what he said, but tried not to show it. "Okay, if you want me to."
"I do." He got to his feet and drained the cup. "May as well get started."
By noon, they were standing on the front steps of the school, looking out over the crowd that had gathered to hear them. Christian looked at individual faces, wondering what they were thinking and what their lives were like now. He wondered how they would take what he had to say and how things would work out in the long run, but realized that was beyond his control. His job was to represent Stonemont and explain to the local residents Stonemont's position and plans for the area. He looked at Mike, who was watching the crowd, then walked to the center of the top step, standing there until the crowd had seen him and quieted down.
"Can you all hear me?" he asked in a voice he hoped would carry to the ones in back. Murmurs and nods indicated that everyone could.
“My name is Christian Bell. I'm from Stonemont. For those of you who may not know, Stonemont is a fortified community a little west of here which developed and grew on the land of Jim Wyatt with people who were drawn to it because of the help he gave those who came to him. We are the ones who liberated this community from those who turned this school into the chamber of horrors it was a short time ago."
He paused before continuing. "When I was here shortly after the liberation of this school, a woman of your community came to me with a suggestion and request. I'm going to let her explain it to you." He looked at Naomi and stepped back.
Naomi looked at him, stunned. She had expected him to lay out Stonemont's plan and just let her put a little icing on it. Instead, he had thrown the whole thing into her lap.
Why had he done that? She was certain it wasn't because he was hesitant to do it himself. It had to be a test, to see whether she would stand up for her own idea. Mustering a confident look, she stepped to the spot vacated by Christian and took a deep breath. She had always been confident, even cocky, with individuals or in small groups, but this crowd had to be several hundred people. She collected her thoughts and looked straight at the crowd.
"My name is Naomi Moore. I'm not really one of your community, but I've been staying with my aunt and uncle for a while. We were raided by some of Barnes' men. I killed them and we lived in the woods until Stonemont came."
She took another deep breath and squared her shoulders, preparing for what she was about to say. "When Barnes and his men came, they were able to take over and victimize this community because you all weren't able to stop them. Why that was, only you can answer. But the fact is that you didn't. When Stonemont came, I told Christian, and later Jim Wyatt, that Stonemont needed to take over if you all were going to survive."
She looked around at some of the grumbling crowd before continuing.
"I'm sorry if that offends some of you, but that's the truth. You were not able to defend yourselves or your families. If another predator group comes through, you'll be victimized again unless you have the help of others who are willing and able to protect you, and teach you how to protect yourselves. And having an easily victimized community here will draw predators to this area, thereby putting others in the area in danger."
More grumbling came from a couple of pockets in the crowd, some confused and some angry. Christian put his hand on Naomi's shoulder, gently pulling her back as he took her place. "So much for a 'softer feel'", he said quietly.
"What she said is true," he said in a voice loud enough to carry over the noise of the crowd. "Those of you who are grumbling come up here and tell me how she is wrong."
No one moved, and contempt began to rise in him again. Some in this group were like so many he had dealt with in his previous life, unable or unwilling to take necessary actions themselves, but always ready to complain about those who did. His original intent to be as diplomatic as possible dissipated under the grumbling. Naomi had told it straight, and now he would too.
"What she said is true," he repeated. "When Barnes came through, he enslaved your women and reduced your men to subservient pissants who kow-towed and rewarded him for his brutal treatment of your community."
He noticed a large man in a red shirt grumbling and talking angrily to those around him. "You!" he called, pointing to the man. "Tough guy in the red shirt. Come up here and tell me how wrong I am!"
The man looked up and yelled. "You can't talk to us like that! Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and telling us what to do?"
Several others around the man yelled in agreement, and Christian could see others in the crowd nodding. He had seen this kind of thing before, in the city, where one loud mouth could get a whole crowd stirred up until it exploded into a collective violence that never would have happened individually. He glanced at Mike, who nodded, then walked down the steps and into the crowd.
The people separated as he made his way toward the man, and moved back a bit to create an open circle around them. Christian stood facing the man, close enough to touch him. "You asked who we were to tell you all what to do. We are the ones who saved your sorry asses from Barnes. Now personally, I don't give a rat's ass what you do, but right now you have two seconds to apologize for yelling at me."
"What the hell are you talking about?" snarled the man.
"Time's up," said Christian as his arm shot up and he struck the man under the chin with a palm heel.
The man collapsed as if the string that had been holding him up had been cut and he lay motionless on the ground.
Christian looked around at the crowd, which was trying to back away from him. "Anyone else?"
There was silence for a moment until a man in shorts and a purple polo shirt spoke up. "You can't just come in here and hit people," he said in a superior tone. "That's not the way to do things."
Christian turned and walked toward the man. "What's your name?"
The man backed up hesitantly. "Dennis. John Dennis."
"Okay, John Dennis, when Barnes came in, what did you do?"
The man looked around, looking for support from a crowd that was gradually pulling away from him. "There was nothing we could do," he answered. “They had guns. They never gave us a chance."
"You mean y
ou didn't try to discuss things with him? Reason with him? Maybe have a big group meeting with him like you apparently want to do now?"
Dennis' eyes shifted from side to side, looking for a way out. He wasn't used to being challenged when he stated what he felt to be a reasonable opinion. "They weren't really the kind of people you could reason with."
"So, what's your plan for the next group like them that stops by?"
Dennis' eyes had turned from arrogant indignation to confusion. "I ... I don't know. I just know that going around hitting people isn't the way to handle things."
Christian looked at the man intently. "What did you do for a living before life dealt you this hand you are so obviously unprepared to deal with, John Dennis?"
The man was shocked by the accusation of incompetence, but found some confidence in being able to talk about a previous career he was proud of. He drew himself up and lifted his chin, his eyes meeting Christian's with renewed assurance. "I was a healthcare administrator."
"I see. So, you spent your days typing emails and sitting in meetings where everyone stroked each other with politically correct horse-shit about how smart and thoughtful you all were while trying to cut budgets to the bone so you could get nice bonuses."
Dennis bristled. "I'll have you know that I was in charge of admissions for the largest hospital in the city."
"Very impressive, Mr. Dennis. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to tell us about the biggest emergency you handled as the head of admissions for the largest hospital in the city."
Dennis' eyes betrayed his returning uncertainty. "It wasn't about emergencies. Good management techniques mitigate emergencies."
"Well then why weren't you able to mitigate Barnes, Mr. Dennis?"
Before the man could respond, Christian raised his voice again to the crowd. "We're not here to take over. We're here to establish a commerce center, a trading post of sorts, at the school, and a safe zone around it where everyone can come without fear of being attacked or otherwise threatened. Beyond that, Stonemont will place the area under its protection. We have given everyone back an equal amount of what Barnes took from them. The surplus items that were left over, plus more that will be brought in, will be available for sale or trade."
He walked back through the crowd, hearing the approving murmurs around him, and remounted the stairs. He motioned Carol and Jerry to join him, then turned again to the crowd. "This is Jerry and Carol Miller. They will be managing the center for Stonemont. The center will be open to all who act in a civil manner. Uncivil behavior will not be tolerated. We welcome everyone who wants to trade, but will not require anything from anyone who does not want to."
He saw that the majority of people were nodding in agreement and others were listening intently.
"The center is an extension of Stonemont,” he continued, “and the same rules will apply. We go by the Ten Commandments, the Golden Rule, and normal standards of human decency. Those who agree with these principles will find a safe, supportive environment. Those who do not will not do business with us.
"Many of you have skills that can be important assets to the community. Others have trades that will help their neighbors and the community as a whole. Rather than trying to explain it, let me demonstrate how this will work. I accidentally looked in a mirror yesterday and noticed that I look a bit scruffy." A chuckle ran through the crowd. "Are there any barbers or haircutters here?"
A woman toward the back raised her hand. "I had a shop before all this happened."
"Good," said Christian. "How much would you charge to cut my hair?"
"Well, I charged fourteen dollars for a man's haircut."
Christian shook his head. "Dollars are worthless now. Would you cut my hair for a can of peaches?"
The woman looked confused, but realized it had been a long time since she had tasted peaches. "Sure, I guess so."
"Good." He turned to the scouts behind him. "Would somebody get a pair of scissors, a comb and a can of peaches, and bring out a chair for me to sit on?"
Five minutes later, Christian was seated in front of the crowd with the woman starting to cut his hair. Ten minutes after that, he stood for the crowd to see his new haircut.
"What do you think?” he asked. “Do I look pretty?"
The laughter in the crowd got louder and more light-hearted.
He turned back to the woman. "I noticed that the other scouts look even worse than I did. If we establish that a can of peaches is worth one Stonemont credit, and that other goods and services will be priced accordingly, would you be willing to cut their hair for one credit each, which you could redeem at the center for whatever goods you like?"
The woman looked at the can of peaches, felt the weight in her hand and imagined how good they were going to taste to her and her family. Thirteen more scouts meant thirteen more cans of peaches or whatever else she wanted for a couple of hour’s work. "You bet," she said, nodding and looking up at Christian with determined eyes.
"Good. And looking around, I think quite a few more people here will want your services as things start to get back on track. What would you say to setting up a shop in one of the rooms here at the center? You set your own prices and pay Stonemont ten percent of what you take in."
The woman smiled. An hour ago, she had wondered how her family was going to survive the winter or the next attack. Now, she had a can of peaches in her hand, thirteen more coming and a new business in a secure location. "I'd say you've got yourself a hair cutter, Mr. Bell."
"Good deal." Christian held out his hand to the woman, who took it. "What's your name?"
"Laura Baker."
Christian turned to the crowd. "Folks, let me introduce the owner of the new barber shop and hair salon, 'Laura's', which should be opening soon. And by the looks of you, you ought to be lined up at the door."
The crowd laughed again and a man yelled, "How are we supposed to pay for it?"
"What skills do you have?" asked Christian.
"I'm a carpenter."
"Come by Stonemont. We're building, and skilled carpentry pays two credits an hour."
"I'm a master gardener," said another.
Christian waved his hand around the area. "One of the first things we need to do is to make this land productive with fields of vegetables and fruit orchards. I know we can't plant most things until spring, but there are some things we can do and it looks like there's a lot to do to prepare. You could get started right away. Are you interested?"
The man smiled and nodded. "You've got yourself a gardener."
Christian raised his hands. "That's how it works, folks. Everyone who will work will be able to make a living and be a functioning, contributing part of this community. Anyone who wants to be a sponge, to soak up benefits from the work of others, will find no place for themselves here."
He noticed that the big man in the red shirt was slowly getting to his feet. "Somebody tell sleeping beauty what I said, and tell him he has a choice to make."
A young boy in front yelled, "I know what we can name it. 'School Center'!"
Christian laughed. "So be it. Give this young man a can of peaches!"
28
Jim walked Christian down the stone steps of the house and out to the box truck that was getting ready to pick up the Murphys.
"It sounds like everything went well. We'll talk in more detail when you get back." He glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot. "Pasquale sent a messenger two days ago. They've been getting sniped at and had a few probes against Redemption from the houses to the north of them. They've lost a couple of people and had several more wounded."
"Do they have the harvest in?"
"Most of it. But winter is coming and attacks will get more frequent and forceful as the raiders get hungrier and colder. We have to clear that area."
"That's going to be a lot of work, going house to house up there. Then we'll have to post security around the whole area to make sure they don't get back into the neighborhoods. That's go
ing to stretch us pretty thin."
Jim shook his head. "We'll burn it."
It took a moment for Christian to realize what Jim was saying. "Burn the houses? Those are half a million to million-dollar homes."
Jim shook his head again. "No, they're not. They're empty shells, either abandoned or full of dead bodies. They're havens for rats, raccoons and raiders. We need to clear the area back so Church Crossing isn't over-watched by sniper positions or close staging areas for raiders. Besides, that's southern Johnson County. There are thousands of houses that big or bigger for miles around. The one thing we will do is spare any houses belonging to those now at Church Crossing if they think they might want to move back into them after the rest have been burned."
Christian thought about it. The idea of burning hundreds of beautiful homes had shocked him at first, but he realized that it made sense. He nodded. "When do you want to do it?"
"In about a week. We need a little time to prepare but we can't wait too long. What do you think about this Marine you're going to bring in?"
"My first impression is good. This might be a good operation for him to go with us on. We can get a good look at him."
Jim nodded. "Do you know his rank?"
"No, I didn't ask and he didn't offer."
Jim shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Go get them and get back here. We have a lot to talk about."
The convoy headed out after breakfast, led by six scouts on dirt bikes followed by the box truck, then Jim's Excursion driven by Christian and another diesel Excursion driven by Mike carrying six more scouts.
The temperature had dropped into the thirties the night before, but it was warming up under a bright autumn sun in a clear sky and they made good time. By mid-morning, the convoy was pulling up to the Murphy's house. As they came to a stop, the door opened and Murphy stepped onto the porch, his rifle slung down his right side.
