Red Walker

by Scott Allen

  Nance came out, dressed in one of her summer dresses, and Dana got up to go into the house to clean up, himself. Nance said, “I bet you’ve already thought of what I’m going to say.” Dana hadn’t a clue, and shook his head. Nance’s eyes were laughing, her hands were on her hips, and she had a happy smile on her face. “We need con-tra-cep-tion,” she pronounced, looking directly in Dana’s eyes.

  “Yes, actually, I had been thinking about that,” he replied, looking back. “Do they even make contraceptives any more?”

  “Well, I think that something was always available, like abortion pills in cases where the state decided a pregnancy was a mistake. I don’t know for sure how to get condoms or pills, but I have a notion to run into town and see if anyone has re-opened the pharmacy and stocked it for the Mexican market. If that doesn’t work, I have some other ideas. We might want to prepare for a trip of four or six hours. We might have to drive further south, if the roads are passable.” Dana got up to walk into the house to clean up, and on the way, passed by Nance and patted her bottom. She turned and looked at him over her shoulder, and flipped her hair back with an amused smile.

  Nance met him in the garage with sacks full of frozen meat and fresh produce to trade. “Normally, I would just scan my wristband, or use thumbprint or an eye scan, to pay for something, and the money would be transferred from my bank account. But, no bank account anymore. We’ll have to bargain.” Nance drove. When she started the vehicle, she pressed a button and a display brightened onto the lower edge of the windshield, showing a map of the area, something Dana had not seen before. She touched the position of the town and the display changed to show a route from her house to the town, and asked if she wanted automatic driving. She rejected this. The trip to town was projected to be 12 minutes and to require 10% of the available charge, but of course the vehicle’s systems didn’t know how bad the roads were or how many detours they might have to make. It started to rain, which made the dirt and gravel roads a bit treacherous, but Nance was an experienced driver.

  As they set off, Dana took the opportunity to ask, “Nance, how many American women do you think would change the system if they could?”

  “You mean the system that oppresses men and controls women’s opportunities?” she asked. When Dana nodded, she looked thoughtful. She was concentrating on avoiding potholes, but still answered him.

  “I’ve read enough history to know that most people just accept the system they are born into, with some people on top and others lower down. I think societies run on shared myths. The original myth of the United States was that people were free and equal under the law. Gradually, that was replaced by the myth that we women were finally free of male domination. We were the vanguard of the new world, in which women ran things and men were in their rightful place as our servants. Women were superior and would make the world perfect.

  “Real change in a system like that is unlikely as long as the people share the myth and don’t question it. Totalitarian governments get control of the educational system and the media, and make sure the myth is supported. And, as long as the people on the lower rungs can get along without too much suffering, and as long as the people on top don’t make a point of being cruel, people at the top or the bottom can rationalize almost anything. But, if the myth is too far from reality, eventually, it will become obvious, and people will begin to question it. That’s why governments try to control ideas.”

  Dana interrupted. “So, you were actually taught that men were inferior?”

  “Of course,” said Nance. “What else could justify putting them in that hardware and killing most of them? We were taught that men were not very bright and prone to violence because of their hormones, and the state had to control them. It was just like how the Japanese and the Germans bought the myth of their racial superiority in World War Two – until they were defeated. But, I didn’t buy the myth. I compared what they were telling me in school to my grandfather, and saw it was a lie. My grandmother told me to keep quiet or I would be punished. But, I never believed anything I was taught in school after that. I made a lot of use of our home library, I can tell you that. But, I parroted back what the teachers wanted.

  “Before I was born, the Womyn’s Party put the Rules in place. That meant that women gradually had to take over all the dirty and dangerous jobs that men usually did, like lumberjack, commercial fisherman, farmer, and so on. So, since it was hard to find women who wanted those jobs, women had to be assigned to them against their wills.

  “To answer your question, the women in those jobs would probably be delighted to see the system brought down, because they are held in those jobs by law unless they get disabled. Which they do, pretty frequently. But, there’s not a lot of them, maybe ten percent of the population. There are some women, like Marjorie, who liked men the way they were, and who taught their daughters and granddaughters to be skeptical of the claims of the radical feminists. That’s probably another five percent, today.”

  “Fifteen percent of women,” said Dana.

  “Yes, about fifteen percent of women who actively want the system overturned. Against them are the elite. There’s about ten percent or so of women who control everything, including the legislatures, the military, the banking system, large corporations, the courts, the educational system, all communications, and so on. To be a part of that elite, you have to be a confirmed member of the Womyn’s Party, usually by birthright. Ordinary women can be confirmed after a long period of showing their loyalty to radical feminist ideas, by joining Male Control or the officer corps of the military,” replied Nance.

  “What about the other seventy-five percent?” asked Dana. “That’s plenty for a revolution, I would think. Why wouldn’t they revolt against the elite? Do they like living how they live?”

  “No, but they just live their lives like people have always done. They accept whatever comes their way, not making waves, trying to get along. They’ve bought the myth. They put up with the run-down infrastructure, shortages of most everything, the continuous inflation of the currency, and all that crap. They put up with not being able to decide on their own work or parenthood, and the gnawing sense that life ought to be better than this. Some of them, if they could be made to see how life could be better, might risk their lives in a revolution. But, their tradeoff is the risk of being killed in a revolution versus the virtual certainty of surviving in a bleak-ish world, but without a lot of suffering, if they just keep quiet. Right now, they get fed, they can push their baby strollers to the park and chat with other women. They have their boring but safe jobs, they can zone out in front of the viewscreen, and life has its little pleasures.

  “My reading of history is that people have to have their expectations crushed in a short period of time to revolt. Huge tax increases, starvation, losing a stupid war, having important rights or opportunities taken away suddenly, and things like that, are what break the power of the myth and provoke rebellions. So far, all the changes have been gradual, and pretty well planned to leave most women satisfied enough with their lives not to be rebellious. Of course, I think there’s enough pent-up anger in the male five percent of the population to make them willing to revolt, if they could get free of their hardware.

  “Sorry I rambled on like that, but it’s a complicated situation.”

  “No,” said Dana, “You’re right, it is a complicated situation. And, I suspect there were a couple of things you didn’t mention. None of those seventy-five percent of women really know what life is like in other parts of the world that are not matriarchies. The government controls the viewscreens and international travel. They don’t know what men and women are like in other places. They might be a lot less satisfied if they knew the truth. But also, they’ve lost the war with Mexico. Surely, that makes a lot of women question the myth.”

  Nance replied, “Maybe, but enough to risk their lives in a revolt to free men, who are supposed to be so scary without their hardware? I think most of them would need more reas
on than that. Anyway, the government is always telling them that they live in a paradise, and the Mexican soldiers and the rebels are testosterone-fueled beasts. They think, at least, here they’re in control, and they don’t have to be afraid of men.”

  “So, why aren’t you afraid of me?” asked Dana.

  “I was, at first. You are obviously a man who can be violent. But, Marjorie trusted you, and … well ... you looked so pathetic. Dirty, bloody, exhausted, and on a crutch. So, I decided to help you instead of shoot you.” She looked at him and smiled. “I’m glad I did. Anyway, I know not all men are like what we were told in school. My grandfather was a gentle man that I loved. And, you also seem protective of me, and well, exciting. I like that. I’ll take the danger,” she said, and gave a little laugh.

  The rain had stopped. The town came into view.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  It looked mostly like a ghost town. It would have been like an abandoned town out of an old western movie if the buildings had been more weathered and there were tumbleweeds blowing through. Nance slowed down and drove through the outskirts, with abandoned houses overgrown with weeds, and into the center of town, three blocks long, with signs saying “closed” on every shop door. Many of the windows had been broken and the shops obviously looted. There were no vehicles anywhere. Up ahead was the sign for the drugstore.

  It had obviously been broken into and looted. The front door was leaning off its hinges, and Dana and Nance, rifles ready, walked in. Shelves were mostly bare. Here and there, some items remained – diapers, cosmetics, orthopedic inserts, toys. In the frozen section, ice cream had melted and dried into a multicolored mess, with flies buzzing around it. They went towards the back, into the pharmacy, and saw that the shelves behind the counter were mostly empty. Nance told Dana what to look for, in terms of the names of pills to terminate pregnancies and to control fertility. They made a complete survey of the few remaining drug bottles, but none of them were what they needed.

  Nance sighed, “Well, I’m not surprised. Let’s head south to the next town and see if things have improved there.”

  Dana replied, “Probably best to have our guns at the ready going back to the vehicle. We don’t know if anyone has been watching us.”

  Using the projected map, they moved on to the next town south. On the way, they saw four black-clad men moving across a field in the distance. The second town was the same as the first, and now they were down to 75% of battery power remaining. Nance sighed as they re-entered the vehicle and selected yet another town further to the south.

  Dana said, “You know, Nance, here we are, risking our lives, driving around this dangerous country, looking for condoms, of all things! It’s almost comical!” At that, they both began to giggle, and then laugh out loud.

  The next town was inhabited.

  Many of the buildings were derelict, but others had been repaired and painted. There were a few other vehicles on the streets, whose drivers stared at them as they passed. Some of the drivers were men, others women. They saw two people walking on the dusty sidewalk, both with rifles over their shoulders. There was a pharmacy that appeared to be open. They went inside, and Nance spoke in Spanish to a middle-aged woman with a rifle over her shoulder at the prescription counter, and asked about condoms and birth control pills. The pharmacist smiled, and explained that they would need a prescription for birth control pills, but there was a condom display one aisle over. They had no idea among the two dozen varieties what to choose, so they picked a selection of several dozen and took them to the counter. The middle-aged man at the counter rang up the purchase and gave them a total in pesos. At that point, Nance said, “We have dollars, and we also have meat and produce to trade. Will either of those do?”

  The man replied in English, “Yes, we can take American dollars.” He looked at a chart on a tablet viewscreen, entered a number, and gave Nance a price in dollars. She blanched.

  “I don’t have that much with me. How about this much,” she asked, counting out all the dollars she had with her, “plus three kilos of pork chops and five liters of fresh vegetables?” Dana walked out to the vehicle and brought in the meat and produce. The man looked it all over and nodded.

  Dana asked, “How does it happen that this town is inhabited, when the ones to the north are deserted?”

  “People are just slowly moving north, I think. The real estate is free, but you need money to fix it, or you can’t have it. My wife and I,” he nodded in the direction of the pharmacist, “are Mexican citizens, and fixed up this place with our savings. We weren’t doing too well down in Mexico – too much competition – so we’re here, now. Since we’re citizens, we can pass back and forth through the Mexican army lines to replenish supplies and do our banking. We all pay a couple of guys who know about electric power and communications to run the old power station and the comm tower in town, and a couple of other guys to run the water and sewer facilities. Eventually, the army will be here, and government will follow. The only big worry is bandits. There’s no law here. The people who’ve moved in have organized a citizen police force, and we all take turns at patrolling. Two other men and I will be on patrol tonight from eight until two in the morning. So far, we haven’t had any trouble. But, watch out heading north.”

  Nance spoke up, “Why is the U.S. dollar so low relative to the peso? The last I heard, a couple of months ago, the exchange rate was much higher.”

  “The US economy is slowly falling apart. They hardly export anything, they import a lot, and their national debt is huge, especially after the war. They have to pay a very high interest rate on their bonds, and their debt is now denominated in more stable currencies, like the euro and the yuan. In fact, I gave you the exchange rate from last week, when I was at my bank. I’m pretty sure the dollar has fallen further, although I haven’t checked the past few days, and I’ll probably lose money on this.” He smiled kindly. “I thought you two young people needed a break, as you say in English. By the way, you can use condoms several times if you store them in water between uses. Just check them carefully.” He smiled kindly again.

  Nance asked, “Do you think there is any way I could change more American dollars into pesos? Is there a bank that would do that around here?”

  “No banks yet, but I anticipate that there will be some soon. They aren’t letting Americans back through the Army lines right now, but maybe they will soon, and you could open an account at a Mexican bank to the south. You can keep an eye on the exchange rate through the news,” and he nodded toward a viewscreen on the wall that was showing a program in Spanish. Nance asked him for the codes for the Spanish-language broadcasts from Mexican stations, and he happily provided them.

  “This will help us improve our Spanish,” she said, “Thank you so very much.”

  As Dana drove the vehicle north out of town, Nance expressed dismay that her family’s life savings were constantly devaluing. “At least I have the farm,” she said.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Dana was enjoying the drive. He enjoyed being in control of the vehicle, and even made a game of dodging potholes.

  The countryside had always been sparsely populated, but now the few farms and ranches seemed deserted, overgrown with weeds. They were down to 30% charge, but Nance looked at the display and said that 30 percent should be plenty to get them home if they didn’t speed.

  As they came up over a small rise, they saw, not twenty meters ahead, a small tree across the road. Dana immediately suspected a trap, and began turning the vehicle around in a panic. Nance had her gun pointing out the window. Four men appeared, two on either side of them, armed with axes, running towards them. Nance shot at the two on her side, who dropped to the ground, and as the vehicle turned, shot at the other two, who backed away and dropped. Dana yelled, “Good shooting!” and pushed the little vehicle as hard as he could, hearing the banging from the undercarriage as they raced over the potholes. A bullet struck their back window and they were hit by tiny splinters of plastic.
Dana turned sharply at the corner ahead, nearly turning the vehicle over, and sped down the dirt road going west. “Keep an eye out!” Dana shouted.

  The display on the windshield showed them deviating from the suggested route, with the suggestion that they turn around and resume it. Dana saw that there was a north/south road about a kilometer ahead, and as they approached, the display suggested a northward turn. It also indicated that they would be at negative four percent charge at the rate they were moving, when they reached home – which they wouldn’t. Dana slowed down, and the indicator showed positive four percent.

  Both of them were breathing heavily. They were too anxious to speak, and too alert for danger. They finally came in sight of the house with five percent charge remaining. “Whew!” said Nance. “Close call!”

  In the garage, Nance shakily got out of the vehicle and looked sadly at the hole in the back window. She had the bulging sack from the pharmacy in her hand, and walked up to Dana. “These cost us a lot, and we could’ve gotten killed. Let’s make them worth it,” and smiled weakly. She reached her hands up to hold his face, and kissed him long and passionately, still trembling.