by Ricky Sides
Inside the safe, Jim found three Uzi submachine guns. They were the carbine variety and appeared to be in excellent condition. He also saw two pistols. One was a nine-millimeter Smith and Wesson model 915 and the other was a Colt 45 model 1911. Both fine weapons and were well suited for combat. He sat them down on the floor beside the safe and reached inside again for a black leather satchel.
Opening the satchel, he discovered that it was about half-full of money. Mostly in one hundred dollar bill denominations, but he did see a few fifties. He pulled out one of the M16 rifles that were in a rack.
He examined it and found that like every weapon he’d discovered in the house, it was in superb condition. There were two of the M16 rifles in the safe. There were also three AK-47 assault rifles. He sat all three of them on the floor next to the growing assortment of weapons. There were also four cans of ammunition in the safe with two being for the M16 rifles and two for the AK47 rifles. Beside the cans sat a pile of extra magazines.
Looking back into the safe once more, he stared in open-mouthed astonishment. Inside the safe was an M60 machine gun. He hadn’t noticed it before because the other weapons inside the safe concealed it from view. He noted that the rack for the rifles was removable. It’d been designed to slide out. He slid it out of the safe and lovingly took hold of the heavy weapon and drew it from the safe. “Lord, where did this guy get all of these weapons?” he asked himself aloud as he unloaded four boxes filled with ammo belts for the machine gun.
Reluctantly setting it aside for the moment, he noticed a small metal box in the lower shelf. Pulling it out Jim was amazed at the weight of the small box. It had a lock but it wasn’t locked. Inside the box, he found gold. There were gold coins, gold chains, and even some gold one-ounce bars. There was a small fortune in gold in that box. Jim couldn’t believe the woman Helen had left so much money and gold in the safe that she intended to leave unlocked. He realized she must have really believed that her husband would be returning soon.
He shook his head and accepted the fact that he’d never know what happened to these people.
The rest of the contents of the safe were documents such as the deed to the farm, birth certificates, and a marriage certificate. These items he left alone.
Jim started to close the safe but stopped just before the door closed. He reached down, picked up one of the M16 rifles, and returned it to the safe. Then he added a sack containing two extra magazines and a couple hundred rounds of ammunition. He also returned the Colt pistol and several boxes of the pistol ammo and spare magazines he had found in the bottom draw of the safe. Beside the weapons, he placed a neat stack of the money and another of the gold that he’d found in the safe. He closed the safe then and spun the tumblers. He tried the door to certain sure it was locked. He saw to his satisfaction that it was.
He knew intellectually that the gesture of leaving some of the money and weapons was probably futile, but he also knew that he’d sleep better for having done so. At least now, if in the unlikely event, Frank ever made it home, he’d find a means to protect himself and some money.
It took Jim the rest of the day to transfer the weapons and ammunition back to his truck. By the time he was finished, he was tired and hungry, but his work here was completed. Tomorrow, he’d be ready to leave. He stared sadly at the blue tarp that he’d used to cover the hole he had cut in the roof of the house. He had carried a couple of boards down to the hole and tacked them in place then covered that with a tarp and weighted down all of the edges. Another futile gesture on his part but it was a gesture of respect for the family who’d owned the home.
In the fading afternoon light, Jim backed the tractor back into its parking spot inside the barn one last time. He remembered to shut off the fuel valve, the way Frank preferred. Just in case.
Chapter 19
Jim drove slowly out to the main road and gently eased the big Peterbuilt onto the freeway. He headed west on Highway 20, and maintained a steady forty miles per hour speed for thirty minutes.
He was pleased with the progress that he was making and had begun to consider increasing his speed to fifty miles per hour when he saw the first crack in the road ahead.
Jim took his time bringing the truck to a stop and stared at the broken road. There was no going around the crack because it stretched out in undulating lines on both sides of the road as far as he could see. He backed the truck up to a level spot where he could safely turn the truck around. Once he had the cab pointed in the opposite direction, he stopped and consulted a road atlas.
He’d been heading for Jackson. He hadn’t planned to enter the city and wanted to take Highway 20, all the way to Louisiana if he could.
Jim figured he was about twelve miles from Jackson. If he headed back east a couple of miles, he’d be able to take Highway 18, southeast to Puckett. Once there he could take Highway 43, southwest to Highway 49. That should bring him back up to Jackson well past the crack. Of course, it was possible that the crack would also be there but he considered that unlikely.
Jim wrote down the exits that he would need to take and placed them in a clipboard he’d attached to the dashboard of the truck and then he slowly made his way along the prescribed route.
The trip was uneventful with one exception. Jim found Puckett to be deserted. He saw a service station with a sign up that advertised their diesel prices. He pulled into the station and got out of the truck. As always when he was in a strange place, he carried a pistol with him.
After making sure that no one was around, Jim walked back to the truck and got the electric pump set up. He walked over to the spot where the filling tube was located and opened the flap. He saw that the cover was locked with a heavy padlock. “Guess I need my key,” he chuckled to himself and walked back to the truck to get the bolt cutter. Moments later, he had one of the pump tubes down into the fill tube. He placed the other in the passenger side tank.
While the little pump labored to fill the tank, he went to check the station again. He’d noticed earlier that the door lock was damaged. Someone had broken into the store long ago. He walked into the store and noticed immediately that the cash register was open. Someone had stolen the money in the register and left. He carried the boxes of oil bottles out to his truck and loaded them.
When he’d finished loading the boxes, the passenger side tank was almost full. He shut down the pump and rigged his hose to fill the driver’s side tank. Returning to the store, he opened the cooler and loaded several cases of soft drinks that were inside the cooler. They were hot now of course. The power had been off for god only knew how long. However, they could be chilled again and he welcomed their addition to his supplies.
After he loaded the last box of soft drinks, he checked the driver’s side tank and found it was only half-full, so he went back inside and loaded up all of the candy that he found inside the shop. He also found the few cans of food the shop carried. Shrugging he took them anyway. In a pinch, they could be stretched to become a week of rations for a man.
Walking back outside, he saw the fuel tank was running over. Jim ran to the pump and shut it down. He pulled the tubes out straight, laying them side by side on the asphalt and then walked over to the pump and picked it up. He held it over his head in his left hand and caught both tubes several feet away from the pump with his right. Raising the tubes over his head, he squatted down and set the pump on the ground. Standing back up, he kept the hoses raised high and walked down the length of the hoses, keeping them raised as he did so. A small stream of diesel fuel drained from each of the two tubes.
He left them in the sun to dry a few minutes while he loaded the last of his acquisitions into the back of the truck. While he was there, he checked his fluid levels and saw that everything was fine with the truck. That reminded him of something that he’d forgotten in the station and he darted back inside and carried out several cases of antifreeze that he had seen there. Jim loaded the fuel pump and then headed out on the road again.
That ni
ght he stopped well outside Jackson and pulled off the main road. He wasn’t tired yet, but he didn’t want to attempt running around Jackson in the dark. There was no way to know what the situation was in Jackson, and the fact that he hadn’t seen anyone else on the road bothered him.
The next day Jim started out ready for trouble. He didn’t want any, but he was smart enough to realize that it just might find him anyway. His caution proved to be unnecessary in this case and by noon, he was just outside Vicksburg.
He began to see traffic as he approached Vicksburg. He even saw a coffee shop that was open for business. He pulled into the parking lot and got out. He was hoping to get some information in the place.
As he walked toward the coffee shop, he heard the sounds of laughter and conversation. As soon as he walked into the place, all of the talking and laughter ceased.
In the silence that pervaded the room, Jim heard the distinctive sound of weapons being cocked. He slowly held up his hands and calmly said, “Now hold on people. I’m not here for trouble. I just stopped to eat and get a little information.”
A big man walked up to Jim and said, “I see that you’re wearing a gun. Guns aren’t allowed in here. Give it to me and I’ll hold it for you until you’re ready to leave and everything will be all right.”
Jim looked at the forty-five the man was holding in a steady grip and replied, “In that case I’ll be leaving now. I don’t give my gun up to any man.” He backed away two steps and turned to exit the door.
“Hold on there, partner. I guess you’re all right. I hope you understand, Mister. We have to take precautions these days. There have been some men through here who thought that since there wasn’t any law anymore they could just do and take what they want,” the man said as he pointed the pistol at the floor and eased the hammer down.
Nodding his head, Jim responded, “I’ve met up with a lot of those men lately. That’s why I don’t give up my gun to any man now.”
An hour later, Jim was ready to leave. The food had been good but he hadn’t been able to get much information about his chosen route to Louisiana.
He did learn a lot about the little coffee shop. It was owned and operated by a family. They kept it going with a big generator. This supplied the electricity they needed to keep their shop open in a limited capacity. They no longer used a freezer. All of the food was either canned food or bartered from farmers in the region.
Jim left the coffee shop feeling good. At least he had gotten to eat someone else’s cooking for a change and the food had been good.
An hour later Jim was cursing as he slowly and carefully made his way across a bridge that spanned the Mississippi river. He didn’t like crossing the bridge at all. It had been moderately damaged by the quake that destroyed Jackson, but the owner of the coffee shop had insisted that it was in good enough shape to drive across.
Evidently, the man’s concept of good enough didn’t match that of Jim. As soon as he saw the condition of the bridge, he decided to turn around and seek an alternate route across the river.
However, he found it impossible to turn around because of the traffic that was behind him. It seemed to him that every car still on the road in America was situated behind him honking their horns for him to go ahead and cross the bridge.
Reluctantly, Jim drove across the sagging bridge. In several places, he saw small cracks in the surface of the bridge. The center seemed to be sagging at least twenty feet. Of course it was really only about four feet, but Jim’s jangled nerves made it seem much worse.
He stared at the hundred-foot section of the bridge that he considered the weakest. This section had the noticeable sag to it. As he started across that weakened span of the bridge, he started to sweat. Jim thought that he heard the bridge creaking under the weight of his truck. By the time he reached the other end of the bridge, he was soaked in sweat.
Jim crossed the Bayou Macon River shortly before sundown and started looking for a place to spend the night. He turned off on a small road that led to an old farmhouse. He was becoming accustomed to sleeping in the sleeper of his Peterbuilt so he spent another night in it. That night he dreamed about driving across the bridge that spanned the Mississippi. In his dream, the weakened span collapsed under the weight of the Peterbuilt. Just before he hit the muddy waters of the Mississippi, he woke up.
Chapter 20
Pete walked down the corridor to the assembly area with his two lieutenants beside him. Following behind was Sergeant Jackson. Anger was evident on the sergeant’s face as he walked rapidly behind Pete and the lieutenants.
As Pete walked into the main assembly area, the two lieutenants fanned out and stopped one to either side of their leader. Sergeant Jackson stopped beside Lieutenant Bill Young and whispered something in his ear. Pete noticed it and frowned. He was concerned that the sergeant was going to lose control and spoil the whole plan. He had considered confining the man to his quarters while he conducted the investigation. It was his sense of fairness that prevented that course of action.
“If it had been my daughter…” Pete let that thought die as it formed in his mind. He faced the group of men who, up until now, had enjoyed his complete confidence. He stared hard into each face of the assembled men. When he reached the last face of the survivalists, he said, “One of you men raped and beat Sergeant Jackson’s daughter.”
Pete heard a gasp of disbelief come from the ranks of the men and then he heard angry muttering. He stared the assembled men seeking any signs of guilt upon their faces. The two lieutenants and Sergeant Jackson were doing the same. I don’t know which one of you did this, but I’ll find out,” he said with confidence.
The crowd of men started to ask questions about the girl’s rape and Pete said, “The girl will recover. It may take a few days, but soon she’ll be able to identify her attacker. The Doctor said that in his opinion, the attacker tried to beat the girl to death to prevent her from identifying her assailant. He failed,” Pete said with vehemence.
He stopped talking and looked at Sergeant Jackson’s face. The man’s expression betrayed nothing but a burning anger, seething, and about to explode. “Good,” he thought. “The guilty party will just think he’s angry about the assault on his daughter. They can’t see the truth on his face.”
Pete addressed the men once more, saying, “The only men in the group that have been cleared of this crime are the men standing before you now and the doctor of course. All of us have been with the girl and she displayed no sign of fear in our presence.”
Drawing himself up to his full height, Pete said, “Rest assured she will be under heavy guard by us or the elite women’s guard.”
Pulling his knife Pete continued, “In two days gentlemen, one of you will be castrated with this knife. I have already given Sergeant Jackson permission to carry out that punishment.”
Pete stopped speaking and on cue, Sergeant Jackson looked at the dragon dagger in Pete’s hand. The expression on his face left little doubt in the minds of the men in the assembly hall concerning how he felt about carrying out the sentence.
Pete let them stew in their thoughts for a moment and then he said, “Of course that won’t be all of the punishment that the guilty party will receive.”
On cue twenty women wearing combat fatigues, shinny black boots, and black berets came running into the room to stand sharply at attention behind Pete. He turned to the leader of the unit and saluted her. The salute was returned without any expression on the woman’s face.
Pete turned to face his men again. “You all know these women volunteered to undergo special training to help the women who are being molested by the Marauders.” He continued, “I’m sure you’ve all heard stories about what this group of women does to Marauders when they catch them raping women.”
Many of the men in the group shuddered involuntarily at the mental images Pete’s reference had churned up in their minds.
“After the guilty party is castrated he will be given a period of time to heal from
that punishment and then he will be turned over to these women to do with as they see fit.”
Turning to the women Pete asked, “Ladies, are your knives sharp?” Twenty skinning blades appeared in twenty right hands as if by magic. The women stood before the assembled men with expressions of grim determination on their faces.
In the back of the group, Reggie and his two friends were trying very hard to keep the fear from showing on their faces.
Pete and his small group left without another word. Many of the men hesitated. They had not been dismissed, but they were uncomfortable with the women staring at them while they held those wicked skinning knives.
They had good reason to be uncomfortable. Pete had devised a unique form of punishment for the women of the elite corps to administer. The punishment was reserved for those they knew beyond all doubt were guilty. They had to be caught in the act, or confess to the crime. If they were caught in the act or confessed they were taken prisoner by the women and then their penis was slowly skinned. In most cases, it took one hour. After that punishment, they usually cut the rapist’s throat.
This might seem cruel and unusual punishment but it was working. Rapes were now back down to pre-disaster levels. As Pete had pointed out when he was teaching the women, “The punishment lasts about an hour, the pain the rapist’s victims endure can last a lifetime.”
Reggie and his two friends slipped out of the ranks and headed for their quarters as one by one other men began to fall out. They knew that they had to get out of the base as soon as possible.
When they reached their quarters, Reggie grabbed one of the men and spun him around. He almost screamed at the man, but at the last second he lowered his voice and said, “You idiot. You were supposed to beat the girl to death after you finished with her.”
The man cowered away from Reggie and replied, “I thought I did. I swear she had no pulse.”