Kyle was confused, Anna was his rock, he had never seen her lose it so completely before. “Did I… are they any good?” he asked awkwardly wrapped tightly in her embrace.
“You did really good, you…you are going to save so many people,” she said trying to catch her breath between sobs.
Kyle just held her close, a lump filled his throat. The only one that he cared about was her, as long as she was one of those people was all that mattered to him. Then they made love by the light of that single candle. A time later, long after Anna had fallen asleep beside him and the candle had burned out, Kyle lay awake. How many lives could those OXys save? He could show them to her in the morning, say he had simply forgotten them in his jacket. But he didn’t, and it took sleep a long time to find him.
Council
The City Council hall was a single story brick building that had been old even before the fall. Now 15 years later it had changed very little. The exception being the double strand of razor wire fencing that now circled it. The Council had gone out of their way to keep the building at least appearing much the same way it had before the world had gone to hell. Believing that maintaining the building's appearance would comfort the town and provide a sense that something resembling Law & Order still remained. Coal doubted most of the folks left in town saw it that way or even bothered to notice it at all. They were too busy trying to not starve to death.
Coal approached the only gap in the razor fence, it was just wide enough for a single man to walk through. A pair of badly deteriorating sandbag bunkers were on the opposite side of the fence. The Indian slid through the gap, pulling his long brown leather duster in close to keep it from getting caught on the wire. The duster was ridiculous these days, it hadn’t rained in years, but Coal thought it looked cool. Besides, it was convenient for hiding things, things like guns, knives, and bags of heads.
A guard stood from one of the bunkers inside the fence, his head clearing the top by several feet.
“Oh, howdy Coal,” the big man said.
Coal cleared the wire and shouted, smiling. “Alfie!”
The big man was almost a foot and a half taller than Coal and had maybe 50 lbs. on him. He wore blue overalls with the city crest on them that looked like they had never fit the young man. He held an 8 lbs. sledgehammer that rested on his shoulder, and his hands tightened down on the grip as he looked down at Coal, his face a wash of mixed emotions.
“Damn It Coal, it's Alfred or Al, or Big Al. Not Alfie, my name has never been Alfie! Nobody calls me that, nobody!” the brute said with anger and more than a touch of wounded pride.
Coals reply was a flat monotone, he emphasized each word. “Calm down kid. I’m not nobody. I’ll call you whatever the fuck I like. That is unless you want to try and stop me?”
Alfie was young, but he wasn’t stupid. The big man took two steps back and looked down at his boots and Coal actually felt guilty for a moment. He had known the boy since he was 10 years old, a whole generation too young to remember what the world had been like. He knew Alfie was a good kid. He didn’t steal, never ran with one of those packs of street kids. He wasn’t a bully, though his size would have made it easy for him. He had done right by his mother, who sat on the council.
Coal looked at the young man in a new light just then. If the world hadn’t gone to hell, he would probably have been captain of the high school football team and possibly a valedictorian as well. His mother came from a good family, with family money, it would have been easy for the young man to make friends and be popular. He would have gotten on at a fairly respectable college and been knee deep in sorority girls for almost 4 years at this point, a big man on campus. The imagined images of the affluent life Alfie would have had soured Coal’s thoughts, and his sympathy evaporated.
He pointed a finger upwards to Alfie’s face. “Fuck you Alfie!” he shouted, and the big man actually flinched.
Coal turned and walked away, his coat swirling behind him and walked up to the building’s double doors. What was that? Coal thought. Feeling guilty for putting someone in their place? That wasn’t right, or at least not normal for him. Had he been in town too long already? Just a single night back and he was already starting to crack under all the social bullshit. This was that damn Scavenger’s fault, Kyle’s soft touch had apparently rubbed off on him a bit. He chuckled, soft touch, rubbed off on him. Ha, Ha Gross.
He reached the double doors and banged on them hard. A few moments later he heard a chain rattle, and one of the doors cracked open a bit and then recognizing Coal opened completely. Councilman Neal stood in the doorway blinking out at the light, he wore the same faded “Mr. Rogers” sweater that he always wore and held a length of rebar.
“Well, Coal…I’m glad to see you, come in, come in. I’m afraid the council isn’t currently in session but perhaps we could call together an impromptu session. That is if our busy schedule permits of course,” Neal said politely in his quiet voice.
Coal nodded and stepped into the dark of the building as Councilman Neal re-secured the chain in place. Neal always made Coal laugh, the man held to council bylaws and rules of decorum at all times. Coal had long ago taken this as a sign that the Councilman was mentally cracked.
“Please follow me,” Neal said leading Coal deeper into the building. Coal noted that the usual pair of Black Jackets that would be manning the door and for that matter another pair outside seemed to be missing.
The two men walked through the large building, passing long abandoned city offices and a series of cubicles. Everything was covered with a layer of dust, but nothing else seemed out of place. Forms still piled high inside of out boxes, chairs pushed in at long-dead computer desks. As they approached an intersecting hallway, the sound of children’s laughter proceeded a little boy and girl by a few heartbeats. The pair skid to a halt on the dusty floor, narrowly missing Neal. Seeing the adults, both turned around without a sound and retreated back the way they had come.
“Highly inappropriate,” Councilman Neal said to himself shaking his head.
Coal knew that the City Council had moved their families into the building shortly after the fall. At first, it was because they had been forced to work around the clock, trying to keep together a community while the world around it was locked in the throes of death. Then later after the almost complete collapse, simply for mutual protection.
The pair rounded a corner, and the doors of the council chamber stood open. As they approached laughter could be heard from inside. A little girl, no more than 6 or 7 ran from the chamber laughing hysterically. Quick behind her came an elderly woman who was laughing as well. She looked up seeing Coal and Neal and stopped immediately. She stood tall, her grinning face now replaced with the perpetual scowl that the Indian recognized.
“Coal,” she said coldly.
“Councilwoman Wadsworth,” Coal replied with a grin and a nod.
The three entered the council chambers, though deep inside the structure it was by far the most well-lit room in the building. A series of small angled skylights were cut into the chamber’s ceiling. Undoubtedly it had been attended for aesthetic purposes but now provided a very real world service. The chamber had tiered seating, enough for 150 occupants, according to a sign just inside the door. The City Council itself had a series of desks sitting on a raised dais on the floor of the chamber. Across from the dais, a single table sat with a pair of folding chairs.
Councilwoman Wadsworth and Councilman Neal crossed the chamber and seated themselves at their respective places. Next to Wadsworth a small Asian woman, Councilwoman Nim already was at her desk. Coal couldn’t believe it, but the woman actually looked smaller and more shriveled than when he had seen her last time. If that was even possible. She had to be in her 80’s but looked closer to a 1000 years old to Coal. He was also convinced she couldn’t speak, at least he had never heard her speak at any point in the last decade. She had a pile of papers in front of her and was the Council’s Secretary. She looked up and gave Coal
an overly toothy grin, that for some reason he always found unsettling.
The last member of the City Council arrived with a jingle of keys. Councilman Jackson stepped out of a set of double doors at the back of the chamber and then locked the doors behind him. He wore a set of city overalls just as Alfie had but that was where the comparison ended. The man had been fat, and now after years of worldwide forced dieting was simply flabby with lots of extra skin. He seemed to always sweat profusely and even now carried a stained towel around his neck that he used to pat dry his bald head. He turned regarding Coal for a moment, then gave a scoff and moved to take his seat.
Coal hated Councilman Jackson, the man was a perpetual ass. Coal had to remind himself not for the first time that killing the man would probably complicate things between himself and the council. That being said, his assholeishness was more personality than the rest of what the city council had combined. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Coal asked himself. No, it didn’t he decided. As the City treasurer, Jackson was responsible for what remained of the city’s budget that of course was now all measured in trade goods. He was also the man Coal would have to negotiate a “fair” price for the bounties he claimed. A job Jackson always seemed too loath as if he was paying Coal out of his own pocket.
A gavel rapped three times on a desk, and Councilman Neal spoke in a solemn tone. “The City Council will come to order. Let the record show that the Council has reconvened out of schedule for the sole purpose of recognizing the city bonded bounty hunter Coal. Please take a seat, Sir,” the Councilman gestured with the gavel to the single table placed on the floor of the chambers across from the dais. Councilwoman Nim’s hand moved with a scratching sound as her pencil recorded everything.
Coal smirked, anyone sitting at the table would have to look up at the Councilman seated above them. It was a shallow ploy, one that may have worked in simpler times, on simpler people. Coal stepped down to the third tier of seats, then sat in the closest chair. Now he was just bit higher than the seated Councilman across from him. Casually he put his dirty boots up on the back of the chair in front of him. It was the only reason he had even worn boots today.
“Thank you, Sir,” Neal said, if Coals demeanor bothered him he never let it show. “Now may I ask on what business do you stand before the Council?”
“I’m here on bounty collecting business, your highness,” Coal replied in a mocking overly formal tone.
“It’s Councilman if you please,” Neal replied in an even tone.
“Which bounty?” Councilwoman Wadsworth cut in, having abandoned council etiquette years ago.
“The one for the 3 raiders that were killing folks in the canyon lands to the North," Coal replied holding up a folded piece of paper not bothering to unfold it. One side was printed with an interoffice memo on TPS reports, whatever those were. The other side was covered in Councilwoman Nim’s flowing hand and outlined the few details of the bounty.
“I’m assuming you have some kind of proof?” Councilman Jackson asked with a sneer as he patted his head dry again.
In reply Coal un-hooked the bloody sack from his belt, another reason to wear the bulky jacket, dramatic effect. He casually tossed the sack down the stairs towards the council’s raised dais. It bounced twice on its way down and then came to a stop at the bottom with a distinctive wet smack. The sack was almost soaked through with blood. All of the council’s eyes fixed on the sack, even Nim looked up from her writing as Coal just grinned.
Councilman Neal shook his head in reply, banging his gavel as he shouted. “Out of order, out of order!”
“Got all 3 did you Coal?” Wadsworth asked, her voice tinged with a bit of sadness.
Coal considered lying for a moment, he doubted any of them had the nerve to open the bag and look for themselves. Maybe Jackson, just on the chance to screw Coal over, maybe.
“No,” Coal answered finally. “Just two, the third got away. Wounded, probably dead by now anyway.”
“How can you be so sure?” Wadsworth asked, her eyes not leaving the bloody sack.
“How bad were they wounded? Did you gut shoot them and leave them to die Coal?” Jackson’s question seemed more like an accusation.
“They was definitely shot. I can arrange a demonstration if you think you need one Jackson!” Coal said meeting Jackson’s eyes.
“How could you possibly know Coal?” Wadsworth asked, this time looking at the floor to avoid looking at Coal.
“What?” Coal asked in disbelief. “How do I know? I know because this is what I do. You sit here and scribble a name on a paper, and I go out and kill the bastard if the price is right. That’s how I know,” Coal shook his head, he had been doing this type of thing for the council for years, and they had never questioned him like this before.
“Besides, I brought you the fucking heads! I’ve closed bounties with less than that before,” Coal added pointing at the bloody sack.
“Order, order, we will not tolerate that kind of language in this council chamber. Have those curses stricken from the record,” Neal cut in with a bang of his gavel.
“Shut up Neal!” Wadsworth, Jackson, and Coal shouted at him in unison. Neal appeared completely un-phased by their collective response.
“Coal the bounty is clear, it’s for all 3 raiders. Now you clearly delivered on two, but without proof of the third. I have to consider the bounty still open and unfulfilled,” Wadsworth spoke with an air of finality. Here words seemed measured, almost practiced.
“As do I,” Jackson added quickly, a smile starting to break through his perpetual scowl.
“Here, here,” Neal added as if his opinion still counted for something, and banged his gavel. Nim continued to write, as usual adding nothing to the conversation.
“Bullshit!” Coal shouted jumping to his feet. “You fucking owe me, I have been doing your dirty work for years…” Coal stopped suddenly in mid-rant.
Pieces slid into place all at once. A councilwoman’s own son on guard duty, alone outside. No Black Jackets anywhere to be seen. He looked up at the city council, examining each as if for the first time. Neal’s eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t been sleeping. And since when had he ever carried a weapon? Never that Coal could recall. Wadsworth stared down at the empty desk in front of her. But her cheeks looked even more sunken in now than Coal remembered. Nim was, well she was just Nim, but maybe even more ancient looking. As he looked at Jackson, he saw the smug bastard’s eyes shift to fear. That was it, now he was certain.
“Oh shit, you’re all done! You’re all out of juice, aren’t you?” Coal asked almost laughing.
The Council didn’t answer, but they didn’t need to. Neal stared ahead blankly. Nim stopped writing. Wadsworth continued to stare down at her desk, shaking her head to herself. Undoubtedly wondering where it had all gone wrong. Jackson again showed the most emotion. The man covered his face and wept silently, undoubtedly afraid of what Coal would do next. Now Coal would be free to kill him and not have it interfere with Council business. The random violent thought seemed like a rather bloody silver lining, and Coal pushed it away, for now.
“How long has it been? What happened? When did the Black Jackets pull out on you?” Coal asked not able to stifle the laugh this time. “It couldn’t have been too long ago; I saw a couple patrolling Main Street yesterday.”
“Four days ago. They left us four days ago,” Wadsworth replied quietly.
“Four days? Then how is this the first I’m hearing about it?” Coal asked. Charlie spread bribes of water around regularly to keep Coal and the ranch in the know.
“Chief Rincone wanted us to keep it a secret,” Wadsworth replied looking up at Coal. “He seems to think that if word got around that the taxes the shopkeepers are paying weren’t going to the council anymore that they may have some…reservations, in paying.”
“Reservations? Damn right reservations, I pay those god damn taxes!” Coal replied. Though his ranch was nowhere near the Hub, his people neede
d a place to safely trade their goods.
It fit, Coal thought. The City Council had been funded for the first few years by the water in the tower, they had created the water chits. Their strength had peaked when they had moved the pump across town, a colossal undertaking. Since Murphy had taken that away they had been slowly trading away anything that remained of the council’s resources. The taxes paid by the merchants in the Hub had been their last source of income. The merchants paid the council, the council paid the Black Jackets and kept the merchants and their property safe. It seemed like the Black Jackets had finally cut out the middleman.
“Rincone’s Idea? Son of a bitch must be smarter than I gave him credit for,” Coal said.
“So you mean to tell me that you don’t have nothing left?” Coal asked, but his anger was all but spent.
“Honest truth Coal, we don’t have anything left. Nothing that you would want anyways,” Jackson replied looking up, the sweat from his head now mixing with the tears on his face. “If we did you know we would pay you, for the bounty and for… protection.”
There it was, the other side of the coin that had made Rincone’s plan brilliant. If the Council spread the word, caused trouble with the merchants the whole town would know. Know that their esteemed City Council was sitting up here all alone, without the Black Jackets protecting them. They wouldn’t last a night, at one time they had held all of the power in town and much of the wealth.
“The wolves will tear this place to pieces. One wolf in particular,” Coal said as he turned and looked at the empty chair at the end of the council’s table; the chair had been Murphy’s seat at one time.
To Cross a Wasteland Page 8