Outland (World-Lines Book 1)

by Taylor, Dennis

  But if a pony express delivery was needed, he was their man.

  It took very little time before Crazy Al appeared over the horizon, going at a speed that would have been nerve-wracking on pavement. On the prairie, he skipped from bump to bump, off the ground more often than touching it. The bike bounced back and forth from front to back wheel, but Al, up on the foot-pegs, was steady as a rock.

  He came in at full speed and hit the front binders. Doing a nose wheelie for the last fifty yards, he came to a precise stop in front of the group.

  Richard asked, “What took you?”

  Al grinned, handed Richard his backpack, and left in a spray of dirt.

  Richard opened the backpack and took out a large foil bag of coffee. He motioned to Charlie, who opened the six-foot gate. Richard handed the bag through to a waiting Bill, and they closed the gate.

  ***

  The door opened with a bang. “Good morning, honored guest. Rise and shine!”

  Bill opened one bleary eye to see Corporal Chavez glaring down at him. She was obviously enjoying this moment.

  Block. Parry. Riposte. Bill sat up, reached under the hard wooden bench on which he’d barely slept— Chavez stepped back while reaching for her sidearm— and pulled out a large foil bag, prominently labeled NABOB Full City Dark. He handed it to her and said, “Give this to your boss. Let me know when coffee is ready.”

  He smiled at her and lay back down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her staring at the bag in her hand. The guard at the door was also staring. Bill was pretty sure he could have walked right out at that moment, and no one would have noticed.

  Chavez turned and, with the bag still held out in front of her like a live bomb, walked slowly out the door. The guard closed the door without once looking at Bill.

  Game, set, match, He thought with satisfaction, and closed his eyes.

  ***

  There was a knock, and Corporal Chavez opened the door. “When you’re ready, the lieutenant would like to see you.”

  “Ready now,” Bill replied, and stood up. Much better.

  When they got to Lieutenant Collins’ office, he sat in his desk chair, slumped back, slowly sipping a coffee. The expression on his face said, in a way no words could, that this was not the same crap as yesterday.

  Stevenson stood near the desk, holding a cup as well. He looked almost afraid to taste it.

  Chavez saluted the lieutenant and made a beeline for the coffee pot. She poured one for Bill, one for herself, and one for the guard that had accompanied them. The look on the guard’s face said he’d marry her right there.

  “I gave the rest of the coffee to the men,” Lieutenant Collins said. “Right now, if you ran for president, they’d all vote for you.”

  Bill grinned. “Same thing I do every night. Try to take over the world.”

  Lieutenant Collins sighed. “I’m not even going to ask. About the reference, I mean. The coffee, I will ask about. Starting with, is there more?”

  “Craptons,” Bill said. “As I’ve said on more than one occasion, I live not only for coffee, but on coffee. Plus we have the stuff from the Walgreens, if you just want coffee.” That got a laugh from everyone.

  Lieutenant Collins got serious. “Okay, Bill, I haven’t missed that you getting the coffee means you could have left by the same method. So I’m prepared to negotiate seriously. What are you looking for?”

  “We don’t really have anything in the way of demands, lieutenant,” Bill replied. “Most of us would prefer to go back to the way things used to be. Failing that, we just want to survive. And save as many other people as we can find.”

  “Do you still consider yourselves Americans?” Lieutenant Collins asked.

  “Until someone tells us different,” Bill answered. “We’re not trying to secede, if that’s what you mean. But it also doesn’t mean we want to limit rescue to Americans. If we can get to the citizens of any other countries, that’s good too.”

  “What about coming back to this side if and when?”

  Bill thought about that for a moment. “Best case, everything clears up, the weather washes most of the ash away, and ecosystems aren’t too badly damaged. We’d still be faced with a social and technological breakdown a couple of years deep. Our geology major gave us her guess that up to half the global population will be dead before we dig ourselves out.”

  Lieutenant Collins didn’t look surprised at this statement.

  Bill continued, “Worst case, the climate doesn’t recover for decades. We end up with sub-arctic tundra and muskeg down to the tropics. In that case we could be back to pre-industrial-era populations.

  “We might be able to come back within our lifetimes, but I’m not going to depend on it, and I’m certainly not willing to push it.”

  Lieutenant Collins considered that for a few moments. “We have a geologist in the refugee group, and he said something very similar.” He thought for a moment. “I’m going to make this optional for the troops. They can have an honorable discharge, effective immediately, or they can continue to serve. If they choose the latter, we’ll be on indefinite detached duty, protecting the last known outpost of America. Until and unless we find others, then it’s up for renegotiation. Good?”

  Bill smiled. “Good. I don’t think we’ll need a general vote since we’ve always taken in anyone we find, but you’ll want to confirm your status with the Planning Committee.”

  “Good enough. So how do we proceed?”

  “Well, travel is easier on this side, so we drive to our warehouse, and they’ll let us through there.” Bill turned and looked up. “You good with that, Richard?”

  A voice came from a camera suspended in the air in the corner of the room, “Sounds good. See you there.” The camera disappeared.

  Bill turned to look at Lieutenant Collins, whose eyes were wide.

  “Wow,” the lieutenant said. “It’s been theoretical until now. That’s how they found you?”

  Bill nodded. He noticed that Private Stevenson was grinning from ear to ear. Some people just get it.

  Getaway

  Bluto was in his glory. He had complete control of the situation. He had one of the two bitches in his power. The dweeb that controlled the time machines stood in front of him, terrified. Looks like he’s about to piss his pants. Bluto smirked in satisfaction.

  “The portal’s in the shed,” Kevin said, pointing.

  “Go get it. Bring them all,” Charles said.

  “We only have two, and the scavenging party has the other,” Kevin replied.

  “Good,” said Charles. “Get it.”

  “I can’t move it on my own!”

  Charles looked impatient. “Oh, Jesus H… you and you—” He pointed to two somewhat more muscular men. “Help him move it out here.”

  It took only a few minutes, and the portal generator and gate were set up in the area in front of the goons and their hostages. Kevin looked at Charles, and at his nod turned on the portal. The gate faded into focus, showing the parking lot outside the warehouse, covered in damp packed-down ash.

  “The fuck? You messing with me, pansy boy?” Bluto didn’t like being played the fool.

  “You’ve been away for a while,” said Kevin. “Yellowstone erupted. That’s why we’re here.”

  Charles looked at the ash on the other side, and turned to Bluto. “Yeah. Remember back in Portland after Mount St Helens? Same shit.”

  Bluto shrugged. He would take Charles’ word for it, and it made little difference in the end. They were going home. A little ash for a few months wasn’t going to be a big deal.

  Looking at Erin, he said, “Now here’s how it’s going to work. You’re going to walk through there, and if you or the other dweeb give either of us any trouble, you’ll both die right away. And we’ll take out as many of your friends as we can.” Bluto leered at her, his nastiest smile. “And later on, I’m going to teach you a lesson about manners, bitch!”

  He took the gun out of Erin’s m
outh and put it to her head. He and Charles started chivying their hostages to the open gate. They stepped through, then Charles pushed his hostage to her knees, aimed at the portal generator through the open gate and fired. There was a flash of sparks and the gate closed.

  Charles and Bluto paused for a moment to make sure that the gate closed on their side. Then they looked around at the gray-brown landscape.

  “Looks a little different now,” Bluto commented. “Still, good to be back.”

  He turned to Erin. “Now, bitch, time to set the rules.” He grabbed her breast, put his face a few inches away from her, and snarled, “If you even think about trying anything, I’ll fix it so you never walk again. Got me?”

  Charles watched all of this with interest, still towering over his hostage and holding her by the back of her collar. Suddenly there was a gunshot, and his head disintegrated in a spray of blood and brains.

  “The fuck?” Bluto yelled and spun around, attempting to drag Erin with him to act as a human shield. Instead, Erin went limp. Bluto was a large man, but he wasn’t ready to support a hundred and thirty-odd pounds with one arm. Erin dropped from his grasp. As she hit the ash-covered ground, there was another gunshot, and Bluto staggered backwards.

  Erin spit ash out of her mouth and scrambled to get out of the way, in what she hoped was a safe direction, while keeping as low as possible. There was another shot.

  ***

  Bluto felt the impact of the bullet. He felt no pain, but the shock drove him backwards a few steps. There was a flicker of motion, and his gaze fixed on a short, curvy brunette with an assault rifle bearing down on him, her face glowing with rage. With an almost physical shock, he recognized her as the bitch who had nutted him in the warehouse.

  In an unintentional parody of the last encounter, he growled, “Fucking bitch!” and raised his gun. There was another muzzle flash, and he felt another impact. This one drove him back and he staggered and sat down. Somehow he still managed to hold onto his gun, and he tried to bring it up again.

  The angel of death snarled at him, “Burn in hell, motherfucker!” and squeezed off another shot.

  Bluto fell backwards as the world ended.

  ***

  Erin watched in amazement as Monica advanced on the goon, methodically squeezing off shots. She looks just like SWAT! Erin thought in admiration.

  Finally Monica yelled something at the goon, shot him again, and he went over on his back. She walked up, looked down at his jerking body, and put three more quick shots into him.

  Erin and the other girl got up and wiped themselves off. The other hostage was looking at Monica like she was eight feet tall and green. Monica asked her if she was okay, and the girl wordlessly nodded. Monica came over to Erin and put her arms around her.

  It was like a floodgate opening. Erin started to sob, and before she knew it she was shaking and crying. Monica held her and said something that Erin couldn’t make out.

  As Erin was running down and beginning to get control of herself, she heard a shout from nearby. They all looked up to see several people coming out of a gate, armed and looking for something to shoot. Erin got a sudden mental image of angry ants boiling out of a nest and she giggled uncontrollably for a second.

  Monica waved to the would-be rescue party and yelled, “It’s okay. Nothing to see here. Move along. Move along.”

  The men came over to the group, looked at the bodies, then at Monica. One of them said, “I guess you’ve got this all under control.”

  Monica grinned at him. “You know, I never did finish my dinner. There better be food left or I’m gonna be pissed.”

  Everyone looked alarmed.

  ***

  They had stepped back through to Outland, and Erin was hosing herself down while someone else operated a hand pump. The other ex-hostage, Suzie, had already cleaned up and was enthusiastically telling her story to all who would listen, which was pretty much everyone.

  Erin could see people occasionally turn to look at Monica with awe on their faces. Monica was oblivious to all this byplay; she was stuffing a second helping of venison chili stew into her mouth. Great. She’s going to have an even bigger ego now.

  The Tale Grows

  They were safe, back in the colony. Suzie had an abrupt feeling of disjointedness as she realized that she now thought of this as the place of safety, in effect, as home. Her friends were loudly solicitous, asking her if she was okay and hugging her. She somehow managed not to burst into tears. It’s over! She kept telling herself.

  She got all the dust washed off with help from a hose and some very cold water. Someone manned the pump for her, then continued to do so when Erin Savard took the hose for her turn to get clean.

  Suzie, meanwhile, was getting bombarded by questions from people. And, pleased to be the center of attention, she was happy to answer.

  She left no detail out as she told the tale: the large bald black man who held a shotgun to her face and threatened to blow her head off; the rough handling as she was shoved through the gate to Earthside at gunpoint; the spray of blood, bone, and brains as the man’s head exploded. She spared no detail in telling how Monica Albertelli advanced on the other man, calmly shooting him again and again as he attempted to return fire.

  Suzie swore to herself that Richard Nadeski was strictly off-limits as long as Monica showed any interest. Suzie didn’t need that kind of trouble!

  Finding the Fallen

  It took very little time to find the place where the goons had taken down Phil and Pete. They found the bikes a few feet into the trees. There was blood, shredded clothing, and discarded items that had come from the boys’ pockets. They continued to search in wider circles until there was a shout. They gathered around the location, and gazed sadly down at the two bodies. The two had been partially buried under rocks and deadwood, to make them harder to spot.

  They collected the bodies, wrapped them in tarps, and took them back to the compound. After discussion, a small group took the backhoe and dug a couple of deep graves a short distance away. At the same time, the bobcat was used to gather some large rocks. Pete and Phil were buried with the entire colony in attendance. They placed the rocks over the graves to prevent any possibility of predators digging them up.

  A somber crowd returned to Rivendell after the burial. The town now had a graveyard.

  Joining Up

  It took a full day for the National Guard platoon to get themselves and their civilian refugees organized, gather all their supplies, and line up for departure. Bill had reminded Lieutenant Collins that they could come back for stuff any time, but the lieutenant did not want to leave anything behind that could be a temptation for anyone. He also wanted the refugees to have time to get ready without undue stress.

  Bill looked over the caravan as they assembled. There were five personnel carriers, bursting at the seams with military personnel, supplies, and refugees. Even so, some of the troops would be hoofing it. They also had three hummers with mounted machine guns up top.

  Bill looked at the lieutenant. “Kind of heavily armed for disaster management, aren’t you?”

  Lieutenant Collins laughed. “Those are army units. There’s a whole story behind how we ended up with them. Maybe some time I’ll tell you how I spent my summer vacation.”

  ***

  The trip was uneventful. Even if there had been legions of looters patrolling downtown Lincoln, they wouldn’t have wanted to tangle with a fully armed and equipped National Guard platoon.

  In very little time, they arrived at the address that Bill had specified. They stopped the caravan, and Bill, Lieutenant Collins, and Corporal Chavez got out.

  The first thing Lieutenant Collins noticed were two corpses lying in the ash. From the look of them, they’d been there for about a day. The manner of death was graphically obvious, especially in the case of the one missing half his head.

  Lieutenant Collins looked at Bill and raised an eyebrow.

  Bill looked a little ill. “I recog
nize those assholes. I’m sure there’s a story.”

  At that moment, a gate opened up in front of them, big enough to accommodate the vehicles. Richard walked through, with a couple of other men trailing him, holding weapons. The other men looked around and took up guard positions. Richard waved at the group and came walking over.

  Introductions were made, and Richard said, “Thought you might want to come across and have a quick look. Then we’ll see about getting your vehicles placed.”

  Lieutenant Collins pointed to the two bodies, which no one seemed to be paying any attention to, and looked a question at Richard.

  Richard grimaced. “Oh, that was Monica. Those two pissed her off. Not a good idea on the best day.”

  “Bit of a tough cookie, is she?” Corporal Chavez asked.

  “Oh, believe it,” Bill said. “I think you and her will get along just fine.” He grinned at Chavez, and she grinned back.

  Lieutenant Collins gestured to Richard to proceed, and they walked through the gate. The lieutenant staggered a bit as he stepped through, as if he’d been bracing for something that turned out not to be there.

  Corporal Chavez chuckled. “Stevenson is probably peeing himself with excitement.” Private Stevenson was driving the lead vehicle and was therefore forced to stay put until ordered through.

  Lieutenant Collins looked around. He saw a sea of tents, large and small, in a large fenced area. There were people scattered around, some working on tasks, some just enjoying the sunny day. Collins looked up at a sky that he hadn’t seen in many weeks, wide and blue from horizon to horizon. A few clouds floated lazily above, and he could feel the sun warming his skin. In the distance, ranch-style fencing had been put up for cattle, sheep, and horses. Near at hand, people were getting up from whatever they had been doing and coming over to rubberneck. The buzz of conversation rose steadily in volume.