by Chris Hechtl
He had worked on a farm for years, so the muscles they were admiring weren’t just for show. He shrugged them off. “Get off. Get this damn thing off me!” he snarled, temper rising.
“Call the sheriff; we've got a live one. He'll fetch a good reward,” a woman said triumphantly as she tried to grab his crotch. “But I want my bonus first,” she purred in his ear.
He heard that and then snarled. “Hell,” he breathed and then wrapped his cuffed hand around the rail. Summoning his farm strength he yanked the railing off the bar. The wood was brittle, so easier than they had thought. The women flew back and away, wide-eyed. Some ducked as he yanked the pole around. One lady pulled up a shotgun, but he batted it out of her hand with the railing, then pulled his own gun with his free hand. The room froze. He looked off to his side to see two women holding Kelly by the arms.
“Ladies, let her go,” he snarled. Two of the women restraining his teenage cousin reluctantly did so, eyes wide. “You sure aren't very hospitable, are you?” he asked sarcastically as he flipped the cuff over the end of the rail and off. It dangled there uselessly. They stared mutely at him as Kelly passed him. The shaken girl grabbed him by the right arm and tugged on it to leave. “Yeah, I think you're right,” he said. He backed away with her.
In the truck they pulled out of the drive, but he saw a woman coming out with a hunting rifle. “Damn it, duck!” he yelled pulling the teen down. He heard her scream and the back window blow out. He grunted in anguish as he felt a bullet tear into his left tricep. The windows were peppered with rounds as the truck hit the gravel road and tore away. They pealed out in the gravel and then hastily hit the main road as women came out to see what the fuss was about. Walker didn't take any chances; he stepped hard on the pedal, maneuvering around people and obstacles as they tore up to the hidden dirt track. He checked the mirror after a moment, getting his ragged breathing under control. The adrenalin was starting to wear off, and the pain was starting to set in he noted. He checked the mirrors and realized they were being followed so he sidetracked.
“What are you doing?” Kelly asked shakily, one hand on his right arm while she looked over her shoulder.
He nodded his chin grimly to the mirror. “We've got company,” he growled. “I don't want them following us home.”
She looked over her shoulder again in time to see vehicles scrambling after them. “Oh my lord, I knew this was a bad idea,” she said, eyes wide.
“Yeah, tell me about it. And what the hell was that all about back there?” Walker snarled. He glanced at her as she wrapped her arms around herself, hunching up.
“It's, um … it’s, ah, complicated.”
“Well, it damn well better get uncomplicated right quick, missy,” he snarled at her, making her eyes go wide at his vehemence.
Reluctantly she told him about the Male Registration Act and the follow-up to it. First, men were tagged by the reformed government. Then for their protection they were rounded up and sequestered. Semen was worth a thousand times the price of gold. Since the second vaccine had killed any Y chromosome in semen, less than one in ten thousand newborn children were male. He growled then pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “They buy and sell semen now on the stock market. You have a fortune between your legs,” she joked. He looked at her darkly, but she nodded, fully serious but sober. “Honest injun, Uncle,” she said.
He sighed again and then ran a hand through his thinning hair. “So … let me get this straight; there is a … reward for males? A bounty? I got that part.”
She nodded. “Yeah, uh, a million dollars or enough food for two years,” she said reluctantly.
“Gee, so you've been what, waiting for the price to go up?” he asked sarcastically as he turned to her. “There are what, sixty men on the farm. How the hell did you keep this from us? For God's sake, why?” he demanded.
She blushed and then broke down crying. “I don't know. To protect you,” he managed to pick out of the sobs.
He grumbled as he pulled up behind a shack and stand of pine trees. He ducked with her as the trailing vehicles passed them by. Her hand brushed his wounded arm, and he flinched. “What is that? It's wet and sticky.”
She looked at it in the light and realized he had been hurt.
“It's nothing. It's a scratch. Let's get going,” he growled.
She was shocked as he brushed off her helping hands.
“Hell, lady, you want to help? Knock that damn windshield out so we can see,” he ordered. He pulled up his feet and kicked at the shattered window. After a moment's hesitation and a bit of awkwardness, she did as well. The windshield broke more and then popped out, first on his side and then hers. He got out, pulled on a work glove and then yanked it off the hood. He flung it off to the side into the bushes. She climbed out of the truck as well and then made him stand still as she dressed the wound.
When they heard voices, he covered her mouth suddenly, pulling her down into the shrubs and bushes near the edge of the trail. Slowly they sank into the shadows.
They paused when they heard crashing through the woods. After a moment the voices and noises came closer. It was a bunch of women as expected. She shivered beside him, anxious to run. He refused to move, just waiting and watching. He knew any movement now would give them away. He noted one of the women was dressed as a sheriff with a coat and green pants. The one next to her was the one with the rifle who had shot him he also noted with narrowed eyes. She was excitedly pointing down the road to where the others had went. They moved back to the road. The sheriff paused to kick at the dirt trail, then she hunkered down to check something. Most likely looking for tracks, Walker thought with a pang of remorse. She looked to where they were at and smirked slightly, but the others called to her.
The teen’s eyes were wide as she watched them leave. “Ddddamn that was close,” she muttered, clearly shaken.
“You don't know the half of it. That sheriff lady knew we were here and led them off,” he said softly to her. She sucked in a breath as she realized what he had said was true. “I think we'd best go in fast and quiet like,” he urged.
“You don't have to tell me twice,” she said softly, moving quickly but quietly for the truck. He stopped her from climbing in with a shake of his head. Silently Walker pulled out a bag and rifle and led her up the track on foot. They were careful to stay out of the main trail and to leave as little sign of their passing as they could.
They hiked up the hill and then turned to see the trail below. Through the trees they could see hints of people milling around the truck. He grimaced and motioned the teen on. They crossed the bridge, and he pulled up to a hidden radio. “This is Lost Sheep to Shepherd, come in,” he growled.
A girl answered. “Um, this here's Daisy, I mean Bo Peep, nice to hear you call, Lost Sheep. What can I do ya'll out of?” she drawled playfully.
“No time, Bo Peep, we've got the law on our tail—a full posse. Go to Defcon 3. Lock the farm down,” he ordered, passing on the alert.
“Roger,” the startled teen said. His partner stared at him. “Lost Sheep, Benny, bring the CAT to the bridges. Operation Hide and Seek is in effect,” he snarled.
“Roger,” Benny said.
“Hide and seek?” the teen asked as they walked up the trail at a slow trot. They moved to the side as Benny rumbled up with the CAT a few minutes later. Jake was behind him in the loader.
Benny pulled up and looked them over. “Well, lookey here what the cat drug in,” the mechanic said thumbing the bill of his hat and then spitting. “What'd you get into this time?” he drawled.
“A shitload of trouble. For all of us, Benny. It seems there is a shoot-on-sight order out for any loose male,” he growled. For emphasis and proof, he tapped his wounded arm.
Benny chuckled as he looked at the cuff dangling from his free wrist, but then sobered at the sight of dried blood. He shook his head. “Shit. Damn. And here I thought you'd been having the time of your life.” He eyed the bloody arm bandage. “Se
ems you ain't kidding, are you?” he asked suddenly serious.
“I wish I wasn’t. Knock down some trees and the telephone poles, Benny, right onto the road and bridge. Make it look good, storm damage; drop some leaves and crap to make it look old too.”
Benny nodded. “That means I gotta push ‘em over right or it won't look right. We can't use a chain saw.” He patted the cat. “Now I know why you wanted this,” he nodded then spat again. “Okay, boss, I'll get'r done,” he rumbled off back the way they had come.
“Is he serious? Hide and seek?” the teen asked again. The order was an old one from the dark times but one they understood. It was one they had all been drilled on twice yearly. “Yes, I am!” Walker snarled making her flinch. “Cover the bridge and road with trees, rocks, dirt, and other debris to make it look impassible. Keep a low profile and hope it blows over,” he said jerking his thumb back the way they had come.
“Okay, boss,” the teen said with a nod and thumbs-up.
“Let's get to it I guess,” Benny said to his partner.
Walker raised his hand and waved to them. The empty cuff link slapped Walker in his face as he moved on. They could hear the faint sound of cracking timber and leaves rustling. “God, I hope they are deaf and don't hear that,” she said.
He sighed, knowing such sentiments were ultimately futile. They knew he was around so they wouldn't give it up. They hadn't had time to cover their trail well either. “Yeah. Too much to hope for,” he said in disgust. He was irritated by the cuffs and vowed to do something about it as soon as they were back to base.
======+======
Walker called a meeting of the adults to explain the situation. The men laughed about it when he described the attack, but they got serious when he grimly showed them the arm wound. He pulled up a data dump from the central computer. He shows them clips the women had saved. The videos played on split screens. Some were of the debates on the capture and treatment of men. Some of the ladies were tearful as clips were replayed. The women shrieked as their husbands, fathers, and sons were torn from them, never to be seen or heard from again.
“Okay, I admit, it's as bad as it looks,” Shannon said, hands up. She looked at Kelly, Jill, and the other ladies. “It's been going on for a while. We thought it'd blow over but …”
“But it didn't.”
“No. No, it didn't,” Kelly admitted. Some of the men were disgusted, some joked about it. They talked about the television programming. A lot of it was female reruns, Gilmore girls, Charmed, Friends, etc, but new stuff were female talk shows, Martha Stewart style home stuff, gossip rags, and one major show, Molly Winters, Man Hunter. It was the top rated show on TV and for good reason.
Eric snorted. “Now that's what I talking about,” he said with a vavava voom sound effect when he sees the voluptuous blonde and her team.
“Eric, you don't get it,” Kelly said in disgust. “They are male bounty hunters who search the world for males. According to the crap they put out, they find the males either sick, starving, or crazed, usually seducing them with clean clothes, food, and a shower.” She made a face.
“And oh, also screwing them senseless,” Shannon said with a snort. The guys stared at her and then laughed.
The girls were embarrassed. “It's not funny guys. The men they find are usually bearded mountain men, teens, and adults. People on the fringes. They are turned over to government agents. They fight off other bounty hunters and enemy agents from foreign powers, which is why they go in armed. Lately they've been taking a pounding from the government too. It's wild,” Kelly admitted. “Think chick flick meets action drama,” she said.
Shannon wrinkled her nose. “You mean meets porno too.”
“That too.”
“Where do they get the guys?” Benny asked. He spreads his hands when the girls gave him disgusted looks. “Hey, I'm just asking.”
“Well, at the beginning of the show, they got them from the welfare agency, the one taking care of males—actors desperate for work I bet. Later they used stock footage or distance shots or women dressed as men. Apparently seeing the men kept as prisoners by the agents between takes started raising some eyebrows. Then one tried to get a message out or escape and the government pulled the plug.”
“That is so messed up,” Benny said. “So the girls sub for the guys? I mean, that's hot and all but I mean, a girl dressing up as a guy is sick.”
“No, men used to play female roles in theater for centuries. Imagine a male Juliet?” Walker asked. Benny blanched and then gagged.
Kelly smirked at him. “The talk shows and net are the main resources to vent for the public. Lately people have been coming on upset about their families being torn apart. Usually the host or psychologist says it's for society’s best interest.”
“They try to downplay it? Make it out like it is a temporary thing? But they have no interest in changing it.”
“No. No they don't.”
“Some of the kids getting grabbed have made for ugly scenes on the web though. The government has suppressed it, which just drove it underground. Don't get me started on the black market.”
“Ah, so no wonder you didn't want me going out,” Walker said, eying the women. “All this under our nose and you didn't say a word. You know, you could have told us we're a hot commodity,” he said.
“Yeah, and then what? Knowing you, you'd go out charging to try to change it … which would have gotten you all rounded up or killed.”
“Pretty much what’s happening now, you mean?” Eric asked caustically. Except we didn't go out knowing what to expect; we, meaning Walker, got blindsided,” he said, giving the women a dirty look. Kelly flushed.
“Moving on … the propaganda involved? How do we combat it?” Walker asked the room at large.
“So the men are portrayed as starving and half-mad and are pitifully grateful for being rescued from the burden of freedom and the chains of marital bliss?” Eric asked. Kelly shrugged. “You know I always wanted to grow a beard,” he said smiling with a devilish grin. His wife made a face and then punched him hard.
“You're not sex starved. God,” she rolled her eyes.
“Thanks,” Kelly choked out, giggling with mirth. One hand over her mouth stifled some of her giggles. The others laughed as Eric rubbed his abused bicep.
“Damn, that's going to leave a bruise,” he said with a put-upon air. “Maybe it's a good thing, saving me from my abusive wife.”
His wife snickered at him. “Serves you right. Poor abused baby,” she mock-cooed. He shook a fist at her, but she just grinned at him. Her fingers caught his chin, and she gave him an Eskimo kiss before her grin turned into a real kiss.
“Anyway … the programming started right after the Male Health and Welfare Agency started. My money is on them backing it from the get-go. But lately the stories have been edgier. The team rescued a kid from international spies only to see the mother wail when they turned the kid over to agents. They felt like heels.”
“Ayeup. I just bet. And wanna bet they don't show husbands being ripped from their families?” Kelly asked. She caught a few horrified wives’ looks. “Oops, sorry.”
“Of course they show the men in some sort of club med. I bet it's darker than that,” Walker said.
“You think?”
Walker spread his hands. “We're a farm here, remember? You don't get the best production by spoiling everyone. Feeding men grapes with half-naked super models waiting on them hand and foot?” He rolled his eyes. “Please. It's a dairy. They hook a guy up to a milking machine.” He grimaced and let their imaginations fill in the rest.
“So, in other words, pretty much what any guy does?”
“Yeah, except it gets old after a while. Then I bet it is compelled with drugs or forced. I'll pass, thank you.”
“Yeah, gotcha,” Eric said, rubbing his wife's arm as she leaned into him. “She may be an abusive brat but I'll take the lady I've got anyway.”
“You'd better, bub. I'm not lett
ing you go anywhere.”
======+======
“Well, I dropped trees on either side of the bridge and the power lines too,” Benny reported and then smiled nastily. “Eric rigged the wires to spark on command. A nice bit of theatrics that should keep the idly curious out.”
Walker nodded. “Good. And the road?”
Benny's grim smile congealed into more serious lines. “That's a bit of a problem; it’s a logging road as you know. Fortunately, it's all muddied out.
Eric shook his head. “Boss, you know we've got forty square miles of perimeter to cover, right? One hundred and thirty adults?” Eric asked.
Benny snorted. “Yeah, and every moment we're out on the perimeter, we're not running the farm,” he sighed.
“It is a catch-22,” he grumped. “That is the price for freedom, ever vigilant.” The others winced. “Well, we've been lax, and yeah, we've got a lot of ground to cover. Fortunately, I have some force multipliers out there,” Walker waved.
“Yeah, I know, now I'm glad you insisted on them.” Benny shook his head. “The Gatling guns are cool.”
“Gatling guns?” Kelly asked suddenly concerned.
“And the walkers. The robots, not the man,” Benny pointed to Walker.
Walker shrugged off the look the girls were giving him. “Giant walking robots. Mecha. Automated. Some human sized ones too. Most are just automated weapons and sensor platforms. You pilot them to an area you want secured, then stop. They sit in sleep mode watching the area. We can turn them on with a flick of a switch or they will boot if something bad comes into their range and doesn't squawk the right codes.”
She suddenly nodded. She'd seen such things while playing in one of the underground garages.