Roland: Reluctant Paladin

by N. C. Reed

“Ah. . .ya know, I don’t. . .I mean no one probably thought about that...”

  “I’ll look in the break room,” Maria sighed again. “Perhaps there’s one in there.”

  “Hey, good thinking!” Roland encouraged her. “And ask James. He seems to know where a lot of things are.”

  “James is. . .creepy,” Maria objected.

  “In what way?” Roland demanded.

  “He never says anything.”

  “Maybe he ain’t got nothin’ to say,” Roland shrugged. “That don’t make him creepy. Just makes him a man that keeps his own council.”

  “He’s not a man!” Maria huffed.

  “Are you are girl, then, or a woman?” Roland shot back, teasing. “James is doing a man’s work, same as you’re doing a woman’s. And by that I mean an adult’s work. I treat anyone who acts like a grown-up like a grown-up.” Maria was about to say something else, probably a witty comeback, when the import of what he’d said seem to hit her. She looked at him closely for a moment, then nodded.

  “I’ll go find a can opener.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Had the dream again last night. Funny, this is the first time since everything went to hell. No idea why. I thought all that therapy crap had really worked. Like this stupid journal. I write in it nearly every day, no matter if anything happens or not.

  Today is a ‘not’ day. I decided that we need to rest, and eat. The kids that are helping me need to get their strength back, and now we’ve got plenty of food, they need a day to eat and rest.

  Maria, bless her heart, has been working almost non-stop with the little ones, Deena and the other girl, Terry. . .no, that’s a guy’s name. Teri? You know what, who cares. The other girl is helping to, and so are a couple of the younger kids, two girls and a boy each thirteen or fourteen I guess.

  I looked through the stuff we took from Wright and the others. Wasn’t much. Two knives, one crap and one good one, a revolver with eleven rounds, and a little .25 auto with seven. I cleaned them up last night before I turned in. I’ve got my rifle and my shotgun, but I’ve pretty much given the rifle to James. It’s not a military rifle, but a civilian AR model, my own. Kinda hate to part with it, but I’ve got other rifles waiting for me in storage.

  Speaking of which, I think it’s high time I went and collected my gear. It’s not that far away, and I can hump it in about three hours. I’ve been going over what all I stored in the trailer in my head. When I loaded it, it seemed like everything I could possibly need to lie low for a while, and see what happens.

  Now, with all these children to see after, I’m seeing holes in my gear that I could never have anticipated. How could I?

  But you know, I should have thought further ahead. I mean, I knew things had gone to shit. Everywhere you looked it was crazy. Blood literally running in the streets sometimes. All over money.

  Someone, somewhere, decided that the dollar wasn’t any good anymore. I never stopped to think about how that might affect the rest of the world. Had no idea how much the rest of the world depended on the dollar to make the wheels go ‘round.

  When the dollar ‘fell’, if that’s the right word, the wheels came right off, too. Things didn’t turn ugly until ‘check day’ rolled around, and there weren’t any checks. That was the start. Riots in the streets all over the country, with people who depended on the taxpayer for sustenance showing their disapproval of the situation.

  At first the newsies were almost cheering them on, some of them. Others were actually telling things like they were, only too many people didn’t listen. For once, being a loner, and a product of multiple foster homes and orphanages had stood me in good stead. I always kept a duffel full of things I’d need if anything ever happened. Anything.

  Too many times I had been trapped in a bad situation because I didn’t have a way out. So I started squirreling away money, clothes, camping gear, stuff like that, when I was probably twelve or so. Once I was in the Army, I started collecting silver coins, since I read that no matter what happened, silver would always be good. Real money. I probably had two hundred dollars in face value of just quarters. But I also had dimes, halves, and a few silver dollars.

  Of course, I never planned on there not being anywhere to spend it. Jokes on me this time, I guess.

  But I do have a lot of stuff. What I didn’t have was enough food for everyone, but now I do. If I only had more hand tools, especially garden tools, and seeds, I’d take a chance and head out of here tomorrow.

  Thing is, if I don’t get that stuff here, I may not have a chance to get it when we’re in the country. I have no idea what’s still available, and no way to find out, either. So...

  Tomorrow, when I go out, I’m going to look for them. If I get lucky, and find what we need, then we’re leaving the day after. If not, then I’ll keep looking for a little while longer. But every day we have to stay here is another day where someone comes looking around, and finds us.

  What I wouldn’t give for just three or four guys from my team to help out. But they’re gone, now. Just like I should have been.

  Only that’s not an option, now.

  -

  “Maria, you got a minute?” Roland asked. The petite woman looked at him and nodded, eyes wary.

  “Come on over to where I keep my gear, so we can talk. I need to tell you what I’m planning.” Other than James, Maria was the person he most depended on. She followed him, uneasy as always.

  “First things first,” Roland told her. He picked up the good knife and the small automatic, handing them to her.

  “Know how to use a gun?”

  “Yes,” she nodded, looking at him as if he were about to bite.

  “Then take this one, and this knife. Pretty good knife, so it should serve you well. When I get back, I’ll sharpen it better, but it should do in a pinch like it is.”

  “Back?” her eyes narrowed. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going after my truck and trailer tomorrow,” Roland replied, sitting down. “And while I’m out, I want to look for garden tools, and seeds. If we’re gonna survive once we leave town, we’ve got to have a way of growing food. I know how to scavenge in the wild, but it’ll never be enough for so many. And the kids; they need better food than that, anyway.”

  “You’re thinking long term, then,” Maria said. A statement, rather than a question.

  “Ain’t really got a choice, seems like,” Roland shrugged. “They can’t look after themselves. Not yet. Not for a long time, for some of them. Where ever we wind up, I need to be able to grow food. We can hunt meat, but kids need vegetables. And that means we have to grow them.”

  “You keep saying ‘we’, but I told you I may not stay,” Maria pointed out.

  “There’ll still be ‘we’ if you go,” Roland shrugged again. “I hope you decide to stay, but if not, I still have to feed all these children. ‘We’, as in all of us,” he waved a hand to encompass the others, “will have to eat. Have to survive.”

  “I still haven’t had a chance to think about clothes and shoes for all of them,” he sighed, remembering that little detail. “That’s something else I need to do. Damn, I had forgotten that.”

  “There are second hand stores that may not have been trashed. You can try them.” Maria was looking at him ‘funny’. Roland didn’t like that.

  “Yeah, that might work. Thanks,” he nodded. “Anyway, take these,” he thrust the pistol and knife at her again, and she reluctantly took them. “I’ll be leaving early. I’ll make it a point to come straight back, and unhook the trailer, before I start looking for clothes and the like.”

  “You need to take someone with you,” the younger woman spoke.

  “No, not this time,” Roland shook his head. “It’s a fair ways, almost five miles from here, as the crow flies. And I can’t fly,” he added with a grin.

  “It isn’t safe for a man alone out there,” Maria insisted.

  “I’ve been worse places than this on my own, Maria,” Roland sp
oke softly. “And when it’s just me, I don’t have to worry about someone else getting hurt.”

  “My father’s business will have many of the things you need,” she said flatly. “He was a landscaper. And a gardener. He and our neighbors always had a community garden. His storage building will have many of the tools you want, as well as some seeds. Heirloom seeds. Which you will need.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Roland admitted.

  “Heirloom seeds will reproduce. You keep part of the yield from your garden for the next year’s crops. It is the old-fashioned method of growing food. Many no longer use it because they can, or could, simply buy new seeds each year. I believe that will no longer be an option, no?”

  “Well, that’s true. I didn’t know that. Thanks, Maria. I guess I should try to find a bookstore, and get some reading material on gardens. I seem to have a lot to learn.”

  “Books are another thing we have need of,” Maria nodded eagerly. “For entertainment, and for information. To teach the niños.”

  “I had thought about that, at least. School books, anyway. Hadn’t thought about just having books to read for entertainment. I guess we’ll have to find something before we leave, if we can. Anyway, like I was saying, I’ll be heading out early, probably well before dawn. I’d like to be close to where I’m headed by the time its daylight. Truth is, I’m thinking about leaving at midnight. If I hurry, I might can get back before daylight, and avoid being seen altogether.”

  “You should not go alone,” Maria said again. “Too much depends on you. Someone needs to be with you.”

  “I need everyone here,” Roland insisted. “And I work better alone. Once I get there, I’ll be fine. Now, I’m going to rest up, and then eat a bite before I go. You look like you could use some rest, too. Try to get some sleep, if you can.”

  “I will be fine,” she almost snapped.

  “Okay.” With that he turned to his bedroll, and stretched out. Maria stood there for nearly a minute before turning and walking away. Stomping might be more accurate.

  Wondering what kind of ‘gringo’ problem he’d caused this time, Roland nodded off to sleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Stupid women.

  Maria says she can’t trust me, she doesn’t like me cause I’m ‘gringo’. She won’t say she’ll stay and help, yet, so who do I find, ready and waiting for me when I wake up just after midnight, intending to slip outside and be on my way?

  You guessed it. Maria. With a look on her face that screams ‘don’t argue’. Like I’m gonna not argue.

  Truth is, I don’t want her around. I’m trying to like Maria, and I respect the hell out of her for taking on so much responsibility with the children, but her attitude toward me makes my skin crawl. She sometimes looks like she’s just waiting for an excuse to knife me. Maybe I shouldn’t have given her that Kershaw. Or the gun for that matter.

  I admit, just to myself, she makes a good argument. She knows where her father’s place is, and what we need. She knows how to raise food, for that matter, which I don’t. Handy skill to have in days like this.

  I pretty much have to let her come along, but I can’t just up and say that, since she’ll get the idea that she’s in charge. Well, actually she’s already got that idea, looks like. And maybe this will convince her

  I’m not going to do anything to her.

  Which makes my tingle meter peg out, right there. If she can’t trust me, and isn’t sure I’m any better than Wright and his bunch, then why the hell does she want to go out there, alone, with me?

  Stupid women.

  -

  “I told you before, I’m fine on my own.”

  “You need someone to watch your back,” Maria insisted for probably the tenth time. Her tone indicated she was tired of saying it. Which was good, since Roland was tired of hearing it.

  “I can watch my own back,” Roland replied. “And if someone’s with me, then that’s someone else to worry about.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Maria huffed slightly.

  “Why do you want to go?” Roland asked.

  “I told you, my papa will have many of the things you need.”

  “Where is your papa, Maria?” he asked carefully.

  “Gringo’s killed him and my mother, and my brother, just after the world went crazy,” she stated flatly. “They. . .they are dead,” she hesitated, slightly, indicating that there was more to it than that, but Roland didn’t press her.

  “I’m sorry, Maria,” was all he could think to say.

  “You aren’t the one who did it, so there is no need for sorrow on your part,” was her dull reply. “You will need me to guide you to where the tools and seeds are. Simple as that. I am going.” She hesitated again, then spoke more softly.

  “It will also give me a chance to see if my home is still there, and perhaps gather some of my own things. Clothes and... personal things.”

  Roland considered that. This was probably as close as she could come to asking him for a favor. Finally, with a great sigh, he nodded.

  “All right,” he gave in. “But when I tell you to do something, you do it, understand?” She nodded her agreement.

  “Okay, we’ll leave in half-an-hour.” She nodded again, and turned away, walking back to where she slept. Shaking his head, and muttering more than one curse, Roland prepared for his journey.

  -

  “James is in charge until we get back,” Roland ordered the other teens. “Deena, you and Teri will have to pick up the slack while we’re gone. Willie, you and Ralph help out as much as you can, where you can. And all of you try to get some rest while the young ones are asleep. If everything pans out, we might be leaving in a day or two. Any questions?” Surprisingly there were none.

  “Okay, get gone, then. James, wait for a minute if you will.” When the others had gone, Roland eyed James.

  “We should be back in a day. By tomorrow, at the latest. If something happens, I honestly don’t know what to tell you. Do the best you can. Try to keep everyone safe. Including yourself, okay?”

  “We’ll be fine,” James told him simply. “You will too.”

  “Hope so, kid,” Roland grinned.

  With that, Roland collected Maria, and headed out.

  -

  “Where are we going?” Maria asked, as they hit the parking lot.

  “To where my truck and most of my stuff is stashed,” Roland replied, his eyes looking left and right into the darkness. He had a pair of night vision goggles, and was wearing them. He didn’t have another set with him, so Maria had to follow blindly.

  “Where is that at?” she asked.

  “About five miles from here, at a storage place called Big Al’s U-Store,” Roland told her.

  “Sounds very legit,” she observed.

  “Are you seriously complaining about the name of the place?” Roland asked, his voice a little snappish. “And are you going to talk all the way there? Someone we don’t want to hear might be out too, you know.”

  “I will be silent from now on,” Maria promised, and he detected a slight amount of genuine contriteness in her voice.

  “Good, now let’s get moving. Stay close, and I can tell you if the footing gets rough.”

  There was faint light from the half-moon, but among buildings, the shadows simply made it harder to see. They made good time despite Maria being essentially blind. They couldn’t risk a light unless it was absolutely necessary. About half-way to their destination Roland’s warning about uneven pavement was late, and Maria tripped, falling into him.

  “I thought you were to warn me of rough footing,” Maria said accusingly as Roland set her back on her feet.

  “And I thought you were gonna be silent,” Roland shot back. “I was trying to warn you, just too late. I’ll try and do better. Let’s keep moving.”

  Several times during the trip, Roland could hear people talking, and more than once they heard gun shots. Fortunately, Roland had been right about people no
t being out late at night. Most were asleep already, since night time activities were limited due to a lack of electricity.

  Without Maria along, Roland could have made it in a couple hours walk. With her along it was breaking day by the time they reached the storage facility.

  Big Al’s wasn’t very reputable due to the kind of people who rented from him. He asked no questions, and answered none. He respected his customer’s privacy and enforced that privacy among the many renters. No one was allowed to ‘snoop’, and he never revealed what he might know about anyone’s storage.

  Because of that, a lot of people who were otherwise disinclined to be trusting of others trusted Big Al’s. Roland was no different. The things he had in his trailer were of. . .questionable, origins at best, and would have made the most even and fair-minded cops crazy if they were discovered. Not that the police were looking.

  But others would be. He held up a hand in the dim light of a new day, motioning Maria to stop. He studied the door for a minute, locating his tell-tales. All were in order.

  “What are you looking for?” Maria asked.

  “I left little bits of stuff here and there to let me know if anyone had messed with the door. They haven’t. Should be okay.”

  “Interesting,” was all she said. Roland sighed and unlocked the ridiculously strong padlock. The door slid upwards with almost no noise, thanks to the oil and grease he had used on it. Inside sat his truck.

  “Wow,” Maria exclaimed quietly. “You weren’t kidding about being a soldier, were you?”

  “No. Why?” Roland asked.

  “Not everyone tells the truth,” Maria shrugged. “Especially...” she stopped.

  “Especially ‘gringos’?” Roland finished for her. She had the grace to blush, not that Roland could see it in the near darkness. And he wasn’t looking anyway, busy inspecting his trailer. It hadn’t been tampered with, and was securely hooked to the hitch.

  “Sorry,” she offered.

  “I don’t care,” Roland shrugged. “You got a problem with me being white, I get it. Not my fault, you know,” he added. She said nothing.