World Order

by Mark Goodwin

  Emilio called back, “If we can’t see you, how will we know you’re in trouble?”

  Josh replied, “The sound of gunshots would be the best indicator. Otherwise, I’ll give you a call on the radio.”

  Nicole looked through the milk crate of the items they’d brought to trade. “A quart of honey, two dozen boiled eggs, four boxes of 12-gauge target load—this is all heavy stuff. We won’t be able to draw our weapons very fast if we get into a situation.”

  “My hands will be free. I’ll be able to get to my gun in plenty of time.”

  “Oh, you expect me to lug all this stuff around?”

  “You used to do crossfit. This is nothing, less than fifteen pounds.”

  “But why am I packing it?”

  “Because I’m the best shooter. If someone tries something, drop the crate and back me up. But we both have a better chance of walking away from an incident if I’m the primary gunman.”

  “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

  Josh pulled into the parking lot and observed the environment before getting out of the car. “Not many people here.”

  “Emilio said it just started up. People were too afraid of the virus to leave their houses two weeks ago.”

  Josh opened the door and stepped out cautiously. “Yeah, I hope we’re not getting ahead of ourselves by coming out so soon.”

  Nicole opened her door and grabbed the crate. She pushed the heavy metal door shut with a firm bump of her hip. The first vendor they came to was an old woman selling used clothes out of the back of a pickup truck. “Got some good overalls here. Look like they’d fit you right nicely.”

  Josh smiled, “No, thank you.”

  “I’d give ‘em to you for one of them eggs there.” The elderly lady pointed at the crate in Nicole’s hand.

  Josh felt bad for the woman, but he had to stay on mission. “No, thank you.”

  The next vendor had three coolers stacked up. “I got fresh venison. Killed it last night. The blue cooler has a roasted hindquarter. Costs a little more, but you ain’t got to fret no virus bein’ in it.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep you in mind.” Josh had no intention of purchasing meat that was not in a can from anyone in the open-air market.

  The next seller had an open wire mesh trailer stocked with various odds and ends. Josh spotted a bag of deer corn. “I guess that will bring them to you.” He examined the bag.

  “Yeah, I reckon so. But you can eat it, too.”

  “Eat dear corn?”

  “Sure. It ain’t got nothin’ on it. These animal protection people wouldn’t let them spray nothing on deer corn. They can soak our food in rat poison, but if you taint somethin’ intended for an animal they’ll pitch a fit.”

  Josh wasn’t convinced by the man’s reasoning but understood where he was coming from.

  The man continued, “You can grind it up and use it for cornmeal if you got an old coffee grinder or somethin’. Otherwise, soak it overnight and boil it. Won’t be sweet like Green Giant niblets, but it’s food.”

  “Thanks.”

  Nicole whispered in Josh’s ear. “That’s Poochy’s 1911 over there on that table. I’d know that gun anywhere.”

  Josh didn’t turn around immediately. “1911 is a popular gun. They all kind of look alike.”

  “Black slide on a silver base? Most people are either-or. Not a lot of takers for two-tone.”

  Josh recalled thinking the same thing the first time he’d seen Poochy’s sidearm. He exhaled his discouragement. This mission was supposed to be about getting more supplies. He did not want a run-in with the bandits who’d raided the compound. He turned around slowly. He examined the wares on the fold-out table under a dirty white pop-up canopy tent. A collection of break-barrel shotguns, tubular magazine fed .22 rifles, and rusty revolvers took up one section of the table. Hand tools occupied the space next to the guns. Behind the booth, he noticed a stack of orange, five-gallon buckets with snap-on lids. Various sizes of gas cans were lined up beside the orange buckets. Josh slowly approached the grizzled old man with the oily cap, mangy beard, and the potbelly sitting in the chair behind the table. “What are you trading for?”

  “Same’s everbody else ah reckon. Gas, guns, ammo, food.”

  Josh looked at a box of .22 shells and several cases of MREs. “Looks like you’ve got all of that.”

  “Mmm. Arbitrage. We sorta act like an exchange. Fair markup for our services. Only thing we aint got’s whiskey. Toilet paper, ain’t got much of that neither. I’ll pay premium for those items— ‘specially bourbon. But I got reefer if you need it.”

  Josh looked around the table. “Oh? Where?”

  “Back in the van.” The old coot motioned with his thumb toward a weathered black E350 Ford. “Ain’t no law around to speak of—still ain’t gonna advertise it. But you look like you’re alright.”

  It was at that moment when Josh realized he’d allowed himself to become unkempt. Since Stephanie’s passing, he’d done well to keep clean. Trimming his beard or cutting hair wasn’t even on the radar. “What’s in the buckets?”

  “Twenty-pound bag of rice and six pounds of beans. Red and black beans.”

  That was exactly how Josh had configured the buckets he’d bought. He glanced at the 1911. “How much for a bucket?”

  “What’cha got?”

  Josh took the crate from Nicole. “Honey, eggs, target loads.”

  “Eggs are risky.”

  “They’re hard-boiled,” said Josh.

  “I’ll trade you that bucket for what’cha got in the crate.”

  “Seems steep.”

  “Like I said, we operate on commission.”

  “Let’s say I give you the honey, the eggs, and one box of the shells. Can you do that?”

  “No deal. That bucket will feed you and that pretty little girl for a week at least.”

  “Two boxes of shells,” Josh countered.

  “Can’t do it, friend.”

  Josh picked up the crate. “Okay, then. I might be back.”

  “Hang on now, get back over here.” The beer-bellied man stood up from his chair and adjusted the suspenders holding up his pants.

  Josh paused.

  “I’m going to do this as an icebreaker. But you come back to my table next time you come through.” The man lifted the heavy bucket and placed it on top of the table. “You’re making out like a bandit.”

  Josh almost laughed at the statement, considering who it was coming from. “Yeah. I appreciate you working with me.” He emptied the crate of everything except one box of shells and handed the plastic container back to Nicole. Then, he removed the lid and inspected the contents of the bucket. Just as he suspected, the rice and beans were all Great Value brand, packed just the way he’d done all of the others. He replaced the lid and picked up the bucket. “Nice doing business with you. We’ll see you around.”

  “We’ll be here. I’ll have a bigger stock next time you come through.”

  “You guys here every day?”

  “Most.”

  “How late?”

  “Whenever business starts windin’ down. Usually around 4:00.”

  “Okay. Thanks again.” Josh suppressed his rage and adrenaline, trying not to walk too fast out of the trading area.

  Once he and Nicole were back in the El Camino, Josh pulled out of the convention center parking lot. He picked up the radio. “Where are you guys?”

  “Right up the street. Do you have trouble?” Emilio replied.

  “Not yet. Meet me at the gas station on the corner of the main road.”

  “10-4.”

  Josh pulled over at the gas station, which was closed down and had been severely vandalized. Christina drove in behind him. She rolled down her window. “What’s up?”

  Josh got out of the El Camino and looked inside the SUV. “We found the bandits who killed Poochy.”

  Micah said from the back seat, “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Josh shook
his head. “Not all of them. Two members of their group. Looks like they’re pawning off less desirable supplies for better stuff. I’m guessing if we wait for them to close up shop, they’ll lead us straight to the rest of their group.”

  “Then what?” asked Emilio.

  “Then we put together a plan and eliminate them,” said Josh.

  “Twenty people? Possibly even more?” asked Christina. “We don’t have the numbers to fight a force that large.”

  “Do you think Solomon would help us?” Josh inquired. “I’m guessing their lair is well-stocked with stolen goods.”

  “Is it worth the risk?” she asked.

  “These people aren’t going to leave us alone. They underestimated us last time. Next time, they’ll be planning to kill us all. They know we have guns and ammo. I suspect they’ll try to keep someone alive to torture. To find out if we have a cache of supplies hidden somewhere. I hope that doesn’t end up being Lindsey.”

  Christina snarled at the suggestion, glaring at Josh as if he were the enemy.

  Emilio played the role of good cop for this particular exchange. “Keep in mind, this is what Josh and I used to do for a living. We can hit them pre-dawn and minimize our risk.”

  “They’re well stocked with pot and looking for booze. They’ll be slow to react,” Josh added.

  Christina huffed. “I’m guessing this would be an all-hands-on-deck operation, meaning you’d need Lindsey to be involved?”

  “She’s a good shot,” said Josh. “We can keep her back from the action as a sniper. But the most dangerous thing we could do is wait for them to hit us again.”

  Christina took a deep breath. “I’ll reach out to Solomon. But I don’t even know where he’s at right now. He could be in another part of the country.”

  “Tell him we’ll divide the spoils evenly. Every shooter gets a share. If he brings ten men, they’ll each get the same share as everyone on our team.” Josh leaned on the open window of the Suburban.

  “Okay, what do we do now?” Christina looked up at him.

  “You and Emilio go sit on the market. Watch for a faded black Ford van to pull out. I’m going to take Micah and Nicole back to the compound. We can’t leave it so lightly guarded all day. The two men have seen the El Camino, so I’m going to swap it out for Rev’s old truck.”

  Micah exited the SUV. “If those two were part of the crew who hit our compound, they’ve seen all our vehicles. And Rev’s truck is riddled with bullet holes.”

  Josh replied, “I doubt the fat one was on the strike team. But even if the other guy was there, it was dark and his memory has been clouded by time and chemicals. The El Camino is fresh in his mind.”

  He turned back to Emilio. “I’ll be back, hopefully before they leave. He said they usually wrap up around 4:00. Even if they sell out and knock off early, that should give me plenty of time.

  “When they leave, you’ll tail them until they turn. I’ll be behind you and then pick them up wherever they turn off. Once we get a location, we’ll stake it out and put together a plan of attack.

  “This needs to happen before we get hit again, so tell Solomon to get here as fast as he can.”

  “If he can come at all.” Christina started the engine.

  Micah got into the passenger’s seat, with Nicole sitting in the middle. Josh pulled away from the gas station. “Nicole, when you get back, I need you to work with Mackenzie on magazine changes. We need her to be involved in this mission, even if it’s just to lay down cover fire.”

  Josh’s mind raced. He’d been given a second chance to locate the people who’d attacked the compound. If he failed to find them again, he would not get a third.

  CHAPTER 26

  If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.

  Sun Tzu

  Josh waited patiently while parked at the abandoned gas station. He watched the time on his burner phone. “3:30. Shouldn’t be long now.”

  Ten minutes later, a text came through from Emilio. Van on the move.

  Josh replied. 10-4. He started the engine and waited for Emilio to indicate the direction.

  Coming your way, came the text.

  Josh slumped low in his seat to be less visible when the van drove by. He remained still while the black E350 rumbled past. He watched for Emilio and Christina to pass, then put the truck in gear. Josh kept back 150 yards from the Suburban.

  The stretched-out convoy continued past the interstate onto State Road 70. Josh followed the SUV past a rolling rural landscape that had yet to be transformed by the coming of spring. Approximately four miles beyond the interstate, Emilio’s voice came over the walkie-talkie. “He’s turning right onto Park Ridge. We’ll keep going.”

  “10-4.” Josh progressed slowly to his turn. Once on Park Ridge, Josh gunned the accelerator until he caught a glimpse of the ratty old van in the distance. He took his foot off the pedal and coasted so not to get too close. The road was narrow, wrapping tightly around curves, undulating over gentle hills. Each time he lost sight of the van, he’d speed up, and each time he regained visual contact, he would decelerate. Two miles up Park Ridge, the road ended abruptly.

  Josh pulled to the intersection having no idea which way the van had gone. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He pounded on the dashboard of the old pickup truck with his fist. Josh quickly pulled up the map application on his phone. “Left goes straight to the park. I can’t imagine them using a national park for a base of operation. I’m going right.”

  Josh punched the accelerator and sped up Mammoth Cave Park Road. He watched for potential turn-offs and scanned each driveway as he passed. A minute later, he saw the back of the van.

  “Got you!” he exclaimed. Josh slowed down but did not allow the vehicle to leave his sight. Then, he watched the van pull into a drive. Josh decelerated even more. As he approached the driveway where the van had stopped, he sped up so not to look like a stalker. He watched the two men from the trading post exit the vehicle. Josh turned away and continued past the house.

  He drove for a mile then stopped in the parking lot of a small Baptist church. He called Emilio on the phone.

  “Where are you?” asked Emilio.

  “I found it. At least, I think so. I want to come back the long way, then drive by again in an hour or two.”

  “What does it look like?”

  “A big ranch. Several metal buildings, a couple of fifth wheels, an old trailer. I saw a barn in the back.”

  “Any trees around that look like we could set up an observation post?”

  “Plenty. I’ll be back in a while.”

  “See you back at base.” Emilio ended the call.

  Josh circled all the way around connecting with I-65 and returning home via the interstate.

  When he walked into the farmhouse, he asked Micah, “Where’s Christina?”

  “In her trailer.”

  “Did she talk to Solomon?”

  “I haven’t seen her.”

  “Okay.” Josh turned around and walked back out the door. He crossed the yard to Christina’s trailer and knocked.

  She opened the door and let him in, holding her burner phone to her ear. “Okay, we appreciate it.” She listened to the phone for a moment. “I’ll tell him. See you then.” She ended the call.

  “Was that Solomon?”

  “Yeah. His group is hiding out in some corn field up in Indiana.”

  “What are they doing there?”

  “Originally, they were planning an operation. But the virus hit them pretty hard. They lost some people.”

  Josh looked at the floor, remembering the toll the outbreak had taken on his family. “I’m sorry.” He turned back to Christina. “What type of operation could they possibly have been planning in Indiana?”

  “Indiana shares
a border with Illinois. Assuming he’s in the northwest sector…”

  Josh finished the thought for her. “His group would be just a hop, skip, and a jump from Chicago.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Did he say that’s where he was?”

  “No. But wherever he is, he has a reason for being there. Also, he said he’s about five hours away. Driving north on I-65 for five hours would put you pretty close to Chicago.”

  “Is he coming?”

  “He has to talk it over with his group.”

  “How many of them are left?”

  “About fifteen, but six of them are still recovering from the virus.”

  “So, nine.”

  “If they come at all,” she said.

  “Did he sound optimistic?”

  “I think he’s going to try to make it work, but he wants something in return.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like he’s going to call in a favor in the future.”

  “He’s getting half the spoils!”

  “I told him that. But you still have to agree to the favor.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “Didn’t say. Won’t say. But whatever it is, whenever he calls it in, you can’t say no.”

  “He has something specific in mind?”

  “That’s how it sounds.”

  Josh shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  “What choice do we have? I’d rather take my chances on them not hitting us again than trying to invade their stronghold, especially with only seven people; one of whom can’t even change a magazine. And another of whom is my teenage daughter.”

  Josh didn’t like hearing it put like that. “We’ll minimize the risk. But waiting to get hit is tantamount to waiting to die.”

  Christina sat on her sofa, burying her head in her hands. “I hate this. I absolutely hate this.”

  Josh swallowed hard. “You’re right. Tell Solomon that I’ll agree to whatever he proposes.”

  She lifted her gaze. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I have to be. Like you said, we don’t have a choice.” Josh felt dejected. “Let me know when you hear back. I’m going to get something to eat. Then, I’m heading back over there to scope out a location for an observation post. Also, I want to confirm that the van is still at the ranch.”