The Blastlands Saga

by DK Williamson

  “I heard. You have a Ranger going with you.”

  “That’s right. Do you know who they stuck with the job?”

  “Yeah. They got some dumb new guy to do it. Named Traipse.”

  “Well I’ll be,” Carson said with a broad smile. “We’ll have a grand time! I’ll show you the ropes over east.”

  “That’s what I was counting on. I think Lieutenant Geiger wanted to see you.”

  “Yes he does. I’ll get over there later,” he said.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mr. Carson. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Pyle.” Jack said as he readied to go.

  “It was nice to meet you, Ranger,” Jim replied.

  “Hey Yack, I got sometin’ for you before you go. Wait here yust a moment,” Gunther said as he went to a cabinet behind him. He returned with a small box and slid it across the counter toward Jack. “Dis is for you. You might need it on your trip.”

  Jack opened the box and saw a gleaming blue-black .45 caliber M1911A1 pistol within. “Gunther, you shouldn’t have!” he exclaimed. He lifted the pistol from the box and saw there was no magazine loaded. He pulled the slide to the rear and looked into the chamber, confirming the pistol was unloaded. He then let the slide close gently, pointed the pistol at the floor away from everyone else, and pulled the trigger. Click went the hammer when it fell, the trigger breaking sharp as a glass rod snapping in two. “Marvelous, Gunther!” he said with a look of awe. He locked the slide to the rear. “You engraved the Ranger star on the slide. It’s just like my father’s pistol.”

  “No, Yack. Dis one much better. I’m a better gunschmit dan I was twenny-some years ago when I make one for Hardin. Dis one’ll drive tacks. Schoot all day long too.”

  “I’ll treasure this, Gunther, I’ve never seen it’s equal,” Jack said sincerely.

  “I hope you never need it for fightin’ Yack, but if you do need it she’ll do de business.”

  Jack once again said his goodbyes and headed home. I guess I know what I’m doing this afternoon. I have to sight-in a pistol. His mood improved.

  . . . . .

  That evening Jack gathered the gear he thought he might need for the trip and took it to the utility room. When he was satisfied he had everything, he packed it into his rucksack or attached it to his load-bearing harness. He set aside the ammunition and magazines for his weapons to deal with the next day, then went into the kitchen and heard his mother in the living room talking with Art and Sean. As he walked into the room Art said, “I was just getting ready to come find you, Jack.”

  “What about, Art?”

  “I wanted to go over a few things you might need to know before you head out day after tomorrow.”

  “Okay, fire away,” Jack replied.

  “Let’s walk, lover boy over here,” he said pointing at Sean, “tells me he has Amanda stopping by.”

  “Art, don’t torment the boy,” Tess said to Art.

  “It’s okay Mrs. Traipse, I’m used to Art’s harassment by now,” a smiling Sean replied.

  “Still, Art needs to show some manners. You go with Art, Jack. I have a few things to get square with Sean here.”

  “Okay, be back in a bit,” he said, then followed Art out the door.

  The two Rangers walked for a few minutes saying little. They came upon a sidewalk bench near a streetlight, at which Art gestured and they sat down.

  “You okay, Jack? I know why you took the escort.”

  “I’m okay. I think getting away for a bit will help.”

  “Maybe it will, but don’t let that girl distract you from the job, okay?” Art said in a concerned voice.

  “I won’t. It’s not something that will distract me, it’s just... I don’t know.”

  “All right kiddo, just remember the job comes first if you do find your head wandering off.”

  “I will.”

  “So, Miss Lewis is the one, eh?”

  “Sure looks that way. Who told you?”

  “Nobody did Jack. Well actually you did I guess. I’ve known you since you were a newborn, remember? I’ve also been right where you are now. Affairs of the heart are a complicated and delicate thing. Ain’t nobody ever got it all figured out and anybody that thinks they do is primed for a surprise. You know how she feels about you?”

  “I think so, but every time I feel sure about it I start thinking maybe I misinterpreted what she meant. I haven’t even kissed her. Maybe it’s just me missing her. I do know one thing, I sure as hell don’t have the affairs of my heart figured out,” he said looking at the night sky.

  “If it ain’t prying, what did she say when she left?”

  “She said I better come see her and that she didn’t want to die an old maid. At first I thought I was in great shape, then I wondered what she meant, then Amanda said Jennifer had plans to marry me, then I yelled something corny, then I started over-thinking everything, then I got depressed and ended up sitting on a bench talking to you.” he said running out of breath at the end.

  Art chuckled, “You finally tangled with something that’s got you buffaloed. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, unless you don’t want to get hitched. If you don’t you better start runnin’. Miss Lewis is not a fickle woman, so I expect she thought you’d figure it out. You will, it just takes some time to get your heart and you head to match up. You can kiss her the next time you see her.”

  “Okay, Art. Thanks, but what do I do now?”

  “You do your escort, don’t get killed doing it, and when you get back I’ll bet you a bundle you’ll have a message from a certain Ranger in Horns waiting for you. Then you’ll have a decision to make, call her, or don’t.”

  “If it happens like you predict, then there isn’t any decision to be made.”

  “Well, I think you’re set then.”

  “Thanks. You’ve made me feel a whole lot better. What did you want to tell me about the escort?”

  “Forget that for now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow about all that. Oh, and your welcome. One thing though. You remember me talking about not worrying over people’s comments on you being a two-month wonder?”

  Jack nodded.

  “You’ll catch more than just that. Because of Hardin and Gordon, some folks will start making comparisons or other bullshit. Forget that. You are Jack Traipse, nobody else. You worry about being Jack Traipse and nothing else. Whether you realize it or not, you already know the job.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Knowing the job and doing the job are two different things. I have known more than a few Rangers that never understood what it was to be a Ranger. They did the job, but they never really knew what it meant. That’s where you have it different, you already know what it means. It may not feel like it, but you do. You have to get used to doing the job, that’s all. The shootout with the raiders and yesterday’s trail you and Thomas did shows me you’ll do fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am,” he said with a smile. “Trust your instincts, you got me?”

  “I got you. I suppose I can count on you to let me know if I wander off course.”

  “You need to ask?”

  Jack smiled and shook his head. “Hey, what do I do if people start comparing me to Art Sierra?”

  Art laughed. “You take it as the highest of compliments and tell’em there ain’t nobody compared to Art Sierra. I’ll see you in the morning, Jack,” he said as he slapped Jack’s shoulder, stood, then walked into the night.

  Jack sat for a little while thinking, then headed for home, smiling as he walked.

  When he got home, Jack heard his mother in the kitchen. The clink of dishes told him where she was.

  When he stepped into the kitchen, he saw her placing bowls into a cabinet. Without saying anything, he stood next to her and started putting silverware into a drawer.

  “You worried?” he asked.

  “Of course I am. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

  “I don’t know. Y
ou never said anything against my decision to join the Rangers.”

  “It’s fine to respect your elders, but it was your decision and yours alone. I knew you would do it though, and even if I were against it, I would not have tried to change your mind. You were raised to think for yourself. I know you didn’t do this on a whim.”

  “Dad said I should think about it before I made a decision the last time we talked, then you said the same thing after he disappeared. I did. I thought about it, but I wondered how you might feel... I mean the way Dad—”

  “I know, Jack,” she said gently. “It’s nice that you thought of my feelings, but they are irrelevant. I was sure you would pursue this, but it needed to be your decision. You thought about it, for much longer than I thought you would, and yes, I am worried, but I am also very proud of you. You are a fine man, and you will be a fine Ranger.”

  Jack’s eyes welled up in tears. “You’re going to make a Ranger cry if you keep on.”

  Tess kissed him on the cheek and hugged him. “Do I need to tell you to be careful?”

  Jack laughed. “No, Mom. I’ll brush my teeth and look both ways before I cross a street too.”

  . . . . .

  The next day Lieutenant Geiger and Corporal Sierra briefed Jack on his merchant escort, going over the route, which would take Jack southeast out of the Freelands to the Deva State, then south and west to Heaven, then back north to Geneva.

  The point of this journey was to pick up a package—materials for radiation treatments—in the Deva State and deliver it to the Ranger Center in Heaven, where the merchant Carson and Jack would part ways. If all went as planned, Jack should return in time to work with the new Ranger trainees.

  Strictly speaking, Carson would be escorting Jack, since Jack would be delivering the package to Heaven with Carson providing his travelling expertise.

  Jack and Ol’ Carson were planning to leave early in the morning, so when the briefing was finished, Jack decided to head home and finish getting his gear ready and get to bed early. Before Jack left, Lieutenant Geiger asked him if he would take a package to Pea Ridge and deliver it to his wife, a task Jack readily agreed to do.

  . . . . .

  Shortly after dawn, Jack stopped by the Ranger HQ to see if there were any changes. There was no one in the building except Amanda, busy pouring over a technical manual. As Jack walked in she looked up and said, “Morning, Jack. You heading out soon?”

  “Yeah, just stopped in to see if anything new popped up. You working already?”

  “I must. I have to fill Barlo’s shoes and that won’t be easy.”

  “I know. Barlo thinks you’ll do fine. So do I.”

  “I wish I shared your optimism. I think I can do the job, just not at Barbara’s level. We shall find out, won’t we?”

  “Yes we will, and my bet is you’ll do just great.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I do have something you’ll be interested in. Those two raiders you and Tom chased the other day, they’re going to be kicked loose in a few days.”

  “We all knew they would. Find anything out about them?”

  “Not a lot. The little mean one is named Harl Cooper and he really doesn’t like your family, if you didn’t notice. Been cursing the Traipse name since the day they brought him in here. The taller one we only have a first name, Will. They’re Cornhusks, but you knew that. Other than what you overheard from them by the river we haven’t got a thing out of them.”

  “Thanks. I’m supposed to call from Seligman before we depart for the Deva State. If that doesn’t work out I’ll call from Pea Ridge or Heaven. If Jennifer happens to call, might you make sure the message gets saved?”

  “I’ll go you one better. I’ll see if I can find out where she is in Horns or if they sent her to Heaven before you get down that way. Maybe you can cross paths with her. If not I can pass a message along if you want.”

  “Thanks Amanda. Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I get back.”

  “Such a romantic, Jack,” she said with a smile.

  “You want me to relay romantic messages to Sean for you?” he replied looking at her over the top of his glasses.

  “I see your point. I was just busting your... chops a bit.”

  “What did Sean end up with for an assignment? I never heard.”

  “He’s going on a patrol with Corporal Braden and Brian West.”

  “I guess Brian’s leg is healed up?”

  “Looks that way. Since they took Jennifer away we still don’t have a dedicated medic, so let’s hope we don’t need one anytime soon. Art’s pretty hot over this whole thing.”

  “It would be nice if somebody would come up with a solution down south.”

  “Why don’t you get on that, old buddy,” she teased. She looked at Jack earnestly and said, “You watch your back out there, Jack.”

  “I will. Don’t burn yourself out on this stuff, Amanda,” Jack said, then headed out to meet Ol’ Carson.

  Jack went to the South Geneva gate carrying his gear, arriving at virtually the same time as Carson. “Good morning, Mr. Carson.”

  “Morning Jack! Call me Bill. You look ready to go.”

  “I am. No mules?”

  “No, not this trip. Dan wanted me to do everything I can to get you back here as soon as possible. I have them at the stables. Young Mr. Pyle is going to check on them for me.”

  “Okay then. I’m ready when you are,” Jack replied.

  “Well then we’re off. Hey Jack, you ever hear the one about...”

  . . . . .

  The first leg of their trip would take them south through Oldiola to Humboldt, about nine and a half miles distant. Humboldt was the northernmost rail stop in the Freelands, serviced primarily by Old Belcher, a semi tractor of mid 1970’s vintage converted to serve as a train engine in the early years of the Freelands. Old Belcher used vegetable oil for fuel, the supplies of diesel having been unusable for twenty years.

  Humboldt was a small, but growing trading settlement, offering lodgings and a couple of eateries in addition to merchant’s trade stalls and stores. Once a city of well over a thousand souls before the Calamity, it now centered itself around the railhead that was the terminus of the rail coming from the south.

  Bill and Jack arrived in late morning and would need to wait for the train’s departure at 1300. Bill talked a little business with some of the merchants and asked for any recent news concerning the route they would be taking, of which there was little, and none of it useful.

  The two travelers then decided to partake in a quick lunch before it was time to leave, keeping it simple, sandwiches and tea.

  Shortly before one o’clock, Old Belcher’s diesel engine came to life with puffs of black smoke from the vertical exhaust pipes behind the cab, unofficially announcing that boarding would soon be underway. The old truck would be pulling two open-windowed passenger cars and a small freight car.

  A few minutes later boarding was announced, and Bill and Jack climbed aboard the second passenger car and took their seats, Jack setting his rifle between his legs with the butt on the floor.

  Boarding complete, the engine began to belch smoke, shudder, and clank as it slowly got underway. In short time the old engine had the train clacking along at a steady twenty miles per hour.

  Jack leaned toward Ol’ Carson. “We have some long hauls on foot today and the next few days,” he said over the track noise and wind blowing through the car.

  “Very possible, but the roads we’re taking are pretty well traveled, a good chance somebody comes along here or there and offers a ride.”

  “You’ve been a merchant since before the Calamity, right?”

  “I was a company sales rep before all that hell, but basically yes. I drove a car everywhere instead of walking, and had the gut to prove it,” he laughed, patting his now flat stomach.

  “Worked mostly in what they called the ArkLaTex back then,” Carson said gesturing to the south. “A lot of nice towns down there,
used to be. Texarkana was where I lived, Texas that is, and over the border in Arkansas was the other Texarkana. Shreveport, Mansfield, Carthage, Daingerfield, Jefferson. All gone now. A lot of lost stories. A lot of old destroyed towns all over lost their tales I expect. Well, we’re making new ones now. New places, new tales.”

  Twelve miles south was the largely ruined city of Chanute, home to a trading post and salvage camp, and not much else. The train made a brief stop to drop off a couple of passengers before it rolled to its next stop about eight miles further south.

  Here the tracks intersected with an old state highway, and awaiting the train was a handful of people and an ancient diesel flatbed truck with the engine idling loudly.

  Once the train stopped, the gathering of people boarded the train while two passengers disembarked, Jack and Ol’ Carson.

  Carson approached the driver of the truck, who was leaning against the bed, and spoke over the noise of the engine, “If you are headed east, might we catch a ride with you, good sir?”

  “You sure can, if you help me load them there seed bags off that train,” he replied jutting his chin at the freight car. “I can get you as far as St. Paul if that helps you.”

  “It most certainly does. Most gracious of you.”

  “You know, when they get the rail line from Girard over here finished you won’t need to find a ride. Or walk.”

  “True enough, but until then it’s nice to find folks like you to help out,” Bill replied.

  “Glad for the company. Let’s get her loaded,” he said as the door to the freight car slid open.

  Several minutes later the three men had twenty bags of seed at forty pounds each loaded aboard the truck. Within minutes Old Belcher was headed south to its next stop while the flatbed truck, with Jack and Ol’ Carson in the cab with the driver, started east.

  Once the truck achieved its top speed of fifteen miles per hour, the driver yelled over the roaring engine and road noise, “Sorry about the vibration, the steel wheels on this thing do a lot better off the pavement. Gonna get some of those new hemp tires when I can afford it.”