Chapter 1 - (Fuck Humanity)
I was awake before the sun, despite the slight alcohol-induced headache. I sat for a few minutes, taking a drink from a half-empty bottle of filtered water before getting out of bed. I went into a small bathroom area, and quickly washed myself off using the faucet, it was the closest thing to a bath I would get until I got back to the coast, but it was better than nothing. It was grey water and not suitable for drinking, but it did the job. No doubt, many of the other guests drank the water without thinking, especially around here where clean water could get expensive, but I tried to avoid water when I had not had the chance to filter it myself. I had seen many people get very sick over the years from contaminated water, and it was something best to avoided.
I slung my rifle over my shoulder, making my way out of the sturdy building that had been turned into a hotel and bar. It had probably served a similar purpose in the old-world, and the new-world owners seemed happy to keep it that way. A lot of people needed a place to stay short term, and a lot of people wanted alcohol, so they probably did well for themselves.
I walked along the street where people had already begun to set up their stores for the day, there were a few trucks that appeared to be in working condition probably brought in by nearby settlements to trade, and the area buzzed with activity on a nearly daily basis. The weather, too, was very calm and cool, but I had no doubt it would get very warm by mid-morning as it did almost every day. As such, I wasted no time in making my way over to a small market area a few streets away.
New Alice had been built almost on top of the ruins of the old town, and many of its sturdier buildings had been repurposed for various new world industries. The once paved roads had long decayed, crumbling away from years of neglect. Some parts had been replaced by hard stone and compacted dirt for vehicles to move through the streets relatively easily. But like most from the old-world, it was slowly being reclaimed by nature. The ruins of the old town were in even worse shape, with everything having been left to the elements, with most of the town had long since crumbled into ruins. Time had not been kind to what was left of the old-world, especially out here, the desert could be a cruel master. It had probably claimed as many lives out here than zombies in recent years, and yet the largest portion of human society remains in such harsh environmental conditions.
When I arrived at Rick’s warehouse, an old storefront which had been restored to something resembling its former glory, two women were hurriedly setting up displays on shelving and various cabinets. One I recognised as Ricks ‘wife’, a woman he had simply decided to ‘keep’ when he first began trading in slaves nearly twenty years earlier. The other seemed new, she was young maybe in her mid-teens and worked just as vigorously as the older woman, obviously trying to impress her new master. “Good morning!” I said, announcing my arrival.
The older woman forced a smile, greeting me by the entrance “Good morning, Sir. I will let my husband know you have arrived.” She said as she anxiously turned and hurried to the rear of the store.
I browsed the shelves where the young woman was setting up displays for new stock, including the bladed weapons Rick was telling me about the day before. My fingertips reached out and gently ran over the steel, checking the blades had been sharpened. The handles were of hardened compressed willow and painted the same dark grey that stained the metal. The craftsmanship was of very high quality, no doubt about it, and the quality of the steel seemed just as good. “I take it you see something you like!” Rick said as he approached, his handheld at as we greeted each other in the custom of the Old-world, shaking hands.
“There is always something of interest in here Rick, it is simply a question of price.”
He laughed. “You always bring quality stuff with you, my friend, and you are always honest. For that, I will always do my best to look after you.” He turned to the younger girl and said firmly, “Please get my good friend some water!”
She gave me an anxious look before I offered a small thankful nod to the girl, turning my attention back to Rick. I unslung my rifle and leaning it against the counter before taking out the items I had bought him to trade. Placing the two bags on the counter, as Rick began opening the bags and checking the contents. His brow raised as he shook his head. “Fools and their money my friend – those dumb shits will pay a fortune for this shit!” he declared as he pulled out the collection of old-world gold jewellery laying it out on the counter. “Those Bishops are obsessed with this stuff, and with it, all of their friends!”
I shrugged. “Yeah, it still amazes me what people will pay for this stuff, but I will take it.”
He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, some people really have lost sight of the world we are in my friend. Still, they will pay, and I will gladly sell at the prices they are willing to offer. After all, something is always worth whatever someone is willing to pay for it.”
I shrugged, knowing that is implication included people in the word ‘something’. pushing my distaste for slavery aside, I replied: “I suppose so!” He then opened the other bag and ran his hand through the assorted collection of ammunition. “There are thirty-seven 9mm, forty-one .22s, and thirty-one of this 5.57 rounds and a handful of .44 rounds in that bag.”
Rick laughed. “Now you’re talking my language, Jack!” He handed the bag to his ‘wife’ who dutifully began counting the rounds on the counter. “I’m guessing you spent most of those .44s you had last night?”
“Yes, I did!” I confessed.
“Booze, women, or both?” He shrugged. “Not that I care, you always have to enjoy the little things in life, Jack.”
I laughed. “Most of it was on booze! Micky had a bottle of Glenfiddich on the shelf that was far too good to pass up.”
Rick shrugged. “I’m more of a beer drinker myself, but whatever makes you happy, my friend!” He then turned the subject back to business. “How many of those 30-06 rounds were you after?”
“Two boxes if you have them, and a few bottles of distilled water for the road was my main goal. After that, it’ll depend on how much credit your offering for the gold.”
He shook his head. “Those first two are easily done with ammo alone, but that jewellery is going to make a small fortune here, take any of those blades you want, and there’ll be enough left over for a slave or two. I got way too many as it is right now, and I’d rather not send them off to the savages if I can help it.” He laughed. “Hell, I even took a second wife I’ve got so many out in the warehouse.” He gestured to the young girl who had returned with a glass of water, placing it in front of me before returning to her work.
I kept my cards close to my chest about slaves, but Rick knew my feelings on the matter. In any case, more ammunition and water would do just fine, I could always make use of those. I wandered back over to the blades taking a machete off the shelf and placing it on the counter. “You know I’m not into slaves Rick, but I’ll definitely take this off your hands, and some additional ammo and water.”
Just as I finished speaking, two men walked into the store, their faces etched with a scowl with their eyes having sunk slighting into their skull. They were likely nutrient deficient in something which was not a surprise given their primary diet. They were obviously northern tribesman and did not look like the friendly sort. “Good morning, gentlemen!” Rick said, forcing a smile at the men, one of who appeared to be crewing on a strip of dried meat. “What can I do for you?”
“Trade!” One of the men said as they approached the counter, placing a large bag of ammunition on the counter, “Bishop said you might have too much stock?” the man asked in a deep voice, before turning to me and growling, “Got a problem?”
Fuck I hate these people! - “Not at all, gentlemen!” I said, turning to Rick, knowing he was about to send a dozen people off to be slaughtered for food. I had a sudden urge to just take one or two off Rick's hands just so they wouldn’t get their hands on them. “How much for a couple of slaves?”
Rick nodded a
n acknowledgement to me, then turned to the two men. “Why don’t you gentleman let me finish with my friend here, and I’ll meet you out in the stockyard in just a few minutes.”
The one that was doing the talking simply nodded then turned to walk out of the store before the other followed. The ‘stockyard’ as Rick called it was an old warehouse behind the store where Rick kept his slaves. Starting a fight was a very bad idea, and frankly, I was no hero, despite that slight urge to do the right thing. But if Rick was willing to sell me a couple of slaves and stop them from being turned into some asshole’s dinner, then I would do it. “How ‘bout it, Rick?”
“I can give two at their price, I’m no fuckin’ saint Jack, if you want to save them then that’s on you, it’s your water.” His voice had become a little strained by the presence of the two men, they obviously made him uncomfortable. I couldn’t blame the guy; he had a business to run and a life to live and making enemies in this place never ended well.
Still, he had a point, two slaves with the water he had given me would be a stretch, and I was hardly a saint myself. Making an enemy of Rick was not my intention, so I took the machete back to the shelf and swapped it for a smaller good quality hunting knife with a serrated back edge. “I’ll take this, a little extra water for the road and one of your girls.”
The smile returned to his face. “Smart man, remember my friend, don’t be trying to fix the world. We didn’t fuck it up, we just got left the mess, and now we have to live in it as best we can.” I nodded in agreement understanding his logic. “Come out to the yard, and you can make a choice, no telling how many these fuckers will want, hell, knowing them they’ll take the whole lot, and that’d be a fuckin’ tragedy, there are some really pretty ones if I do say so myself. Hell, I might even take another wife if they’re only going to turn them into food.”
I shrugged. “Fuck it, worst case, I have some extra water for travelling and let the poor bastard go.”
Rick laughed. “Fuckin’ hell Jack, at least take advantage of the situation. I bet it’s been years since you used something other than your hand on that dick o’ yours.” He wasn’t wrong, but then again, rape wasn’t my thing any more than slavery. I let his comments go, once again opting for diplomacy on the matter.
I laughed at his comment as we walked out through the fenced-off area of the stockyard and into the warehouse where the other two men were browsing through the two separated cages on each side of the large room. They seemed to be making a list as they perused the cage on the left filled with a dozen skinny young men as if they were selecting animals. They seemed to be estimating height, weight and suitability for their needs. The thought still made me shudder, and for a moment, I pictured myself being in one of those cages. I turned to Rick, who was guiding me towards the cage filled with young women on the right-hand side of the room. Some were in their early teens, maybe thirteen or fourteen years old, while others seemed to vary in age quite widely, from their late teens to their late twenties or older in one or two cases. The look of terror in their eyes was unmistakable; they knew what the two men were here for. It was nearly enough to make me sick in the stomach, as my hand gently palmed the pistol that was still in its holster on my hip.
Then Rick’s voice brought me back to reality, as he whispered, “Take your pick Jack, which one of these lucky fuckers’ gets to lives.”
The looks of terror soon shifted to sobs and cry’s then one woman stepped forward with a girl next to her that looked no more than twelve or thirteen years old. “Please, sir, please take my daughter, please!” she begged; her tears fell as she pleaded.
I sighed looking down, as all the other women stepped forward, making similar claims about the younger girls in the group. They were clearly desperate and would say anything, though the bruising on the younger girls said a lot. I could not care for a child, and knowing the northerners were unlikely to eat the children eased my mind slightly. They would likely use them to replenish their ranks. It was unfortunate, but there was little I could do to help them. Only one of the adult women sat in the corner and said nothing, she just glared at me, sporting what appeared to be a black eye and several bruises like the younger girls. Her messy red hair spilling down over her face. There was still fire in her eyes, and not nearly the same kind of desperation that the others seemed to have. They would say or do anything to survive, and that was simply not something I could deal with on the road. Theft or a knife in the back seemed likely with most of them. If not that, then knowing full well, I would be carrying any one of them for their whole life in exchange, probably for sex, or maybe the occasional cooked meal was not something I found appealing. I could live without either honestly, but I didn’t want whoever I picked to simply come right back as many slaves did after escaping. The decision, in the end, was an easy one, and it wasn’t made based on looks as many of the women growled and angrily berated me for my selection. They threw slaps and punches at the red-headed girl as she moved through the crowd of women, I pulled my gun on one of the older women who had struck the girl to the ground. “Back the fuck off!” I growled.
Once the girl was outside of the cage, she stood in front of me, staring into my eyes with a slight glare - defiance, anger, rage, and a strong will to fight all present in her mind. She was wearing a light coloured though extremely dirty dress that went down to her knees. It was badly torn, and she would need better clothing and shoes for the desert, but I did not have the means to purchase those things from Rick. I stepped forward, my hand gently taking the girls chin and assessing the bruising. It was light, and most likely not done by a whip as Rick might have done had he been punishing a slave – instead, it seemed as though the women in the cage had formed a pecking order of sorts and the younger ones were not only slaves to Rick but servants to the older women in the cage.
“Come!” I said softly to the girl as the other two men stepped forward to the cage and begun assessing the woman exactly as they had done for the men.
Rick led me back into the store with the girl just behind us, her ankles shackled and chained so she could not move quickly. Something that would need to change when were got out of town. “A good choice, my friend!” Rick said warmly, “Take good care, and don’t forget your shit.”
I nodded my thanks to Rick, as I gathered my backpack, loading it with the water and several small containers of food that Rick threw in for good measure along with a holster for the hunting knife. I clipped the blade to my belt and threw the bag over my back. “Thanks, Rick, always a pleasure.”
He handed me a small key and waved before I walked out of the store and back into the street. It was still early, and the heat had not yet settled in for the day.
I nodded my thanks to Rick’s ‘wives’ and left, leaving the store and oppressive atmosphere that hung over it from the two northern tribesmen in there. The girl was keeping up with my walking pace, though she was taking two steps for every one of mine. We moved through the market area and out onto what was left of the old highway which led south out of New Alice. It was little more than a dust-covered dirt road with a few exposed areas of tar where the wind had blown clear the dust. After nearly an hour of walking, we reached an area where a small creek ran parallel to the road with a few trees growing overhead. The shade was enough to make the place worth stopping and resting for a few minutes. The girl followed the whole way without complaint or words, and when we stopped, she did not rush right into the stream to get a drink as most people might have. She seemed to have good instincts, so I pulled out a bottle of water and drank before handing it to the girl. “What’s your name?”
She sipped the water first, taking several small gulps as someone concerned with preserving water might. She then handed the water back, even though she was very obviously sweltering in the heat. Her body was extremely thin from lack of proper food and likely very dehydrated. Nevertheless, she maintained a calm demeanour and strong survival instincts resisting the temptation to rush into the water. “Ashe,” she said me
ekly, her expression appeared to have softened since leaving the town, but there was still fear in her eyes.
“I’m Jack,” I replied gently, trying not to scare the girl. Making a point of trying to ease the girl's fear as I pulled out the key and held it out to the girl. “Here!” She hesitated, then took the key carefully as if waiting for some sort of me to berate or beat her. I turned a little too quickly when she took the key, causing her to flinch. “Fuck, I knew Rick was an asshole, but god damn!” I said with a sigh. She held her eyes closed for a long moment before opening them and looking around, confused that I had not lashed out. “I take it trust isn’t your strong suit either.” I smiled sympathetically as I knelt by the stream, gathering water into a few empty bottles I had stored in my backpack. I could filter it whenever I got the chance to stop and rest. When I stood up, the girl was still standing there, holding the key, staring at me as if waiting for an explanation. “I take it you know how a key works?” I joked, “You’re free, go!” I held out a full bottle of distilled water, which she took, then threw the bag back over my shoulders and began walking once again.
“But…” she said meekly still confused, “I have nowhere else to go,” she said, her fear surfacing in her voice.
I stopped, and looked down, I had no interest in her company but leaving the girl on the road with nowhere to go, and no way to care for herself would likely lead her back to town where she would again be sold as a slave. I sighed then turned to the girl. “Come on then!” I turned and began walking once again.
“Hey, wait!” she said, the meekness fading from her voice almost immediately as she sat down, working the key through the lock and removing the chain.
Desolation (Book 1): Aftermath Page 2
