“Last I heard it was still going on,” Weiner said.
“Still?”
“It’s what I heard.”
As corpses piled up in the streets, desperate refugees sought refuge at Nellis Air Force Base, northeast of the city, but were turned back at gunpoint. Gasoline became more valuable than gold as survivors piled food, fuel, and water into their vehicles and took to the roads, headed for anywhere there might be food and shelter. Thieves set up roadblocks on all highways leading out of town. As a rule, they killed the men immediately, raped the women before killing them, too, and stole whatever they wanted. A lot of the kids were sold as slaves.
A Colombian immigrant named Oswald Nuñez packed up everything he could and drove east with his family crammed into one Suburban — his wife, three kids, three grandparents, and the family dog. He also had two AR-15s, two shotguns, three pistols, and a lot of ammo. The highway gang that stopped them didn’t want to shoot up the Suburban and ordered them all to get out. Oswald obliged them by blasting the man at his window while the two grandfathers and the oldest son came out shooting.
The thieves fled, leaving another of their gang dead on the highway, but Oswald knew they’d be waiting in ambush further down the road. Instead he pulled off and found the protected spot where Ma Kelly’s now stood.
“There’s a spring out back,” Weiner said. “That settled everything.”
People passing through the area found the secluded valley and begged Oswald for water. He gave it freely if the people had nothing to barter, but most had something he wanted. Those who tried to take it by force quickly discovered the bottom of a grave, and not always after they were dead.
“Brutal guy,” Angriff said.
“Those were brutal times. Still are.”
As the years went by, fewer and fewer people came by what had become a permanent structure, but the ones who did tended to be regulars who traded food for other things, including shelter. Slowly, some of those people became scrapers, those who roamed the ruins of North America looking for useable leftovers.
“I know some scrapers,” Angriff said. “You ever heard of Jingle Bob?”
“O’ course, I been knowin’ Bob for a long time. Know Junker Jane, too, but only to hear tell. Bob says she’s a looker.”
“What about Idaho Jack?”
Weiner chuckled, a deep wet laugh. “He ain’t such a looker.”
“No, he’s not.” Angriff laughed, too.
“What about Nailhead Neil, you know him?”
“Never heard of him… So how did you wind up getting the place?”
“That’s a really long story, Nick. Sure you’ve got time?”
“I’m the boss. I’ve got as much time as I say I’ve got.”
Weiner made them a second cup of tea and his boys joined them, arms crossed and looking suspicious even after their father assured them all was fine. Weiner told how his family came to Ma Kelly’s five or so months after Nuñez founded the place. His father had been a construction foreman and had not only the knowledge of how to build almost anything, but also brought a lot of tools with him in the family’s camper.
“You can still see it around back.”
Nuñez knew the value of a man like Weiner’s father and welcomed him and his family. Over the years, the Nuñez family died out through illness and accidents, while Weiner’s thrived. They finally took over the place when no more of Nuñez’s relatives were left alive.
They were deep in a discussion about the details of Weiner’s life when Major Wincommer came in looking for Angriff. “General, I’ve questioned the prisoner and believe I’ve gotten most of what he can tell us out of him. What should I do with him?”
“What about the others?”
“There’s six other wounded, but they’re all unconscious.”
“We’ll take the uninjured man with us. Let’s let Mr. Weiner here decide what to do with the wounded.”
“I can do anything I want with ’em?”
“They’re murderers and rapists who harmed your family. I don’t give a damn what you do to ’em.”
#
Angriff ordered Wincommer to leave half a troop at Ma Kelly’s, in case more riders showed up. The driver had the motor running, but before he got back into his Humvee, he leaned against the roof and pointed west. “What’s ahead of me, Dave?”
“Out there? You know about the lake and the river, right?”
“I do. Lake Mead and the Colorado River… I also know the bridge is still standing over the canyon.”
“Don’t know that I’d trust it.”
“The engineers should be there right now, checking it out for structural integrity.”
Weiner smiled. “I think I know what you mean by that. Are you going to the dam, too?”
“Yes, and into Las Vegas and beyond. Is there anything I should know about?”
“The dam… You’re gonna have some fun there. It’s run by Lulu and her crew.”
“Dangerous?”
“Naw.” He touched his temple. “Not quite right in the head, but that’s what comes of keeping that dam running for too many years. Lulu’s one of a kind, but she’s harmless. Now Vegas, that’s a different story. I wouldn’t go there if I was you… although you might have the firepower for it.”
“You mentioned there’s still a war there.”
“Has been ever since I can remember.”
“You ever been there yourself?”
“Once, a long time ago, but I left quick. I never understood it, Nick. Just living’s hard enough, you know? So like I told you earlier, I know the who and the where, I just don’t know the why. From what I understand, there were a lot of gangs there when the Collapse came, and remnants of them joined up with each other to fight the rest. Every now and then, we used to get people coming through from the city, but I ain’t seen any for years now. Maybe they all killed each other.”
“That’s a big help, Dave, thank you. I guess I’d better get going now.” He extended his hand and they shook again.
Once he’d gotten into the Humvee and shut the door, Weiner leaned inside. “I owe you a pair of boots.”
“I want rattlesnake skin.”
“It’s a deal. I should’ve measured your feet while you were here. You ain’t got time now, do you?”
“Nope, sorry.”
“Oh, yeah, one more thing. Wait here just a minute.”
“Dave, I’ve really got to get on the road.”
But Weiner was already walking as fast as his thick legs could move back toward Ma Kelly’s. He came back carrying something and as he got closer, Angriff wondered if it could be alive. Then Weiner held out his hands and displayed a wriggling German shepherd puppy, which he put in Angriff’s hands before the general could stop him.
“Her name’s Kona. Those Rednecks killed her mother and my kids wanted you to have her.”
“I…” He looked up. Major Iskold giggled behind Weiner. When she realized he was looking at her, she blinked and yawned and tried to put on a serious face again. Then Kona changed everything; leaping straight up, she licked him on the lips.
“Oh, hell,” Angriff said.
#
Chapter 14
It is impossible to suffer without making someone pay for it; every complaint already contains revenge.
Friedrich Nietzsche
Overtime Prime
1234 hours, April 24
By the time the guard pushed lunch through the cell door, Tom Steeple felt his stomach rumbling. He’d never been a big eater and until yesterday, his appetite after being thrown into a cell had been bad. But with hope rekindled, his body used energy at a greater rate and he needed to fuel it, so despite the bland nature of the food, he looked forward to each meal now.
The dented metal tray slid under the door through a flap made for the purpose. Steeple remembered the day when he’d signed off on that particular detail of the cell’s design, thinking that anyone in a cell deserved their food served on the flo
or. He was self-aware enough to realize the comedic irony of his current situation.
As usual, the food was cold. A grayish meat with brown gravy the consistency of pudding sat between a handful of green peas and powdered potatoes, also with the congealed gravy on them. It was only while using the edge of the fork to cut off a chunk of meat that he noticed the gravy on the potatoes formed the letter I. More letters followed… n-m-o-t-i-o-n.
IN MOTION.
Suddenly the food tasted much better.
#
Chapter 15
Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.
Dr. Seuss
California Highway 70, west of Sierra Army Depot
1344 hours, April 24
Junker Jane shoveled dirt side by side with Green Ghost, trying to match his relentless pace to the point where the other paratroopers helping dig the mass grave started elbowing each other and pointing. She never looked up from the deepening hole, not even to wash dirt from her mouth when a water bottle made the rounds. After cradling the charred corpse of a man she’d identified as Bam Bam Bear, she’d thrown all of her energy and concentration into burying him and her other friends.
“If you start that foot bleeding again, don’t look for sympathy from me,” Green Ghost said. “You heard the doctor.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t a doctor,” she said.
“You know what I mean.”
“I had to come.”
“I know, I get it, but you need to know when to pass off the mission to somebody better equipped to finish it.”
“That’s not how it works in my world.” Panting, she felt lightheaded from the exertion. She’d lost a lot of blood and wasn’t back to full speed yet. “But since we’re in your world, I’ll do it your way.”
Their horses were tethered well away from the worksite, where burned-out vehicles lay scattered on the highway and in the nearby desert, mute testament to the battle fought there a week before by Bear, Jane, and their friends. Scavengers had since despoiled the dead, eating away all nutrient-rich organs, including the eyes. Jane had gone from one friend to the next, kneeling beside the body and closing her eyes for a moment, then moving to the next. Then, while she, Green Ghost, and six other paratroopers dug a shallow grave for the dead, others collected anything of value they could find and piled it in the bed of an old pickup truck pulled by horses — weapons, uniforms, knives, ammunition, papers, boots, bottles, and rations.
Once the hole was three feet deep, they gathered the bodies. Exposed for a week, they reeked of rotten meat, and several men vomited. Others stripped off their uniform shirts and tied them around their faces. Jane thought she’d be all right until she found the remains of the girl named Suzanne, who’d died fighting beside her in a ditch. The eyes were gone, along with most of the internal organs, but still looped around her neck was a leather strap holding an old-style cameo. Inside was the photograph of a young child. Jane had no way of knowing the child’s identity, but that didn’t prevent tears from rolling through the dust coating her cheeks.
Her foot had begun to throb again, so she mostly let Green Ghost and the paratroopers find stones for the cairn, only adding a few small ones herself as a token. By the time they’d finished piling rocks over the grave, it was mid-afternoon. The ride back to Sierra Army Depot would take the rest of the day and into the night, but Jane didn’t move. She stood in silence, remembering her friends and trying to remember the words to a prayer, any prayer. It was only when she cocked her head that she noticed Green Ghost standing beside her.
“I haven’t prayed in a long time,” she said. “I can’t remember the words.”
“You don’t have to. He knows. But if you want to try, just say whatever you feel.”
A fly buzzed around her head as she paused. She swatted at it and missed. “These were loyal people. I thought of them like my family and they never let me down. God, please take good care of my friends.” She bowed her head a moment and then looked up, feeling warm tears in her eyes. “Was that okay?”
“Best prayer I’ve ever heard.”
“Thanks.”
Without further comment, she mounted her horse and turned it to catch up with the group making their way east, back to Sierra, but reined the horse in when Green Ghost stayed behind. “You coming?”
“I’ll be along. I’ve got something to do first.”
“Like what?”
“Those.” He pointed to a stack of rectangular, wire-bound boxes they’d hauled from Sierra. Each had a stencil that read M21. Two shovels lay beside them.
“What are they?”
“Anti-tank mines. I’m gonna enlarge some of the holes in the highway and leave them as presents in case our Chinese friends come back. With any luck, this will at least slow them down.”
“You’ve got two shovels.”
“Yeah, so?”
“One’s for me.”
“You sure? It’ll be dark soon. And you can’t hide that limp.”
Jane half smiled. “I see better at night.” She dismounted and joined him, trying to keep her steps regular. Electric pain shot up her leg.
Having never handled mines before, she let Green Ghost assemble and place them, while she dug out holes in the broken asphalt big enough for them to fit in. It was hard work, even where the pavement had been blasted out of the roadbed. By the time they finished, the sun had dipped below the line of mountains in the west. They moved half a mile from the battle site and stopped to eat in a patch of small trees, where the horses could forage on leaves and California meadow barley. Neither believed there were any Chinese stragglers left in the area, but didn’t build a fire, just in case. As for four-legged predators, the quarter moon lit the desert well enough to see them coming in plenty of time, but they kept their rifles close by just in case.
They hadn’t expected to stay out overnight and hadn’t brought much food. Dinner was dried strips of mountain goat they’d brought from Sierra, plus a mushy orange and some hard squares of dark bread Jane had found in a discarded Chinese food sack. They washed it all down with tepid water from their canteens.
“I hope I don’t break a tooth on this bread,” Green Ghost said, more to make conversation than because of the poor quality of the food. He’d eaten much worse.
“The Chinese grow a lot of wheat in California. These are made from a type called hung-you-my. It’s red and the bread you make from it has a strong flavor. I call it hard bread. I’ve eaten cakes like this my whole life.”
“I didn’t know you spoke Chinese.”
“Huh?”
“Hung-you-my?” he said.
“Oh. That’s not how the Chinese say it, but that’s how my dad taught me.”
“Seems like he taught you a lot.”
“I wouldn’t have survived without the skills he taught me. I had an older brother, but he died before I was born. That was ten years after the Collapse, and by then, Mom and Dad had built our house up in the mountains south of Lake Tahoe. I still live there.”
“Is he gone?”
“You sure ask a lot of questions.”
Green Ghost turned away and she knew exactly why. He thought the darkness would hide his blush, the unfamiliar sensation of his face getting warm in embarrassment, but it didn’t. Not from her.
“Sorry.”
For the first time that day, Jane laughed. “It’s okay, I was joking. You’re funny, you know that?”
“That’s not something I hear very often.”
“Well, you are.” Her voice dropped lower. “My father died when I was twenty-two. He’d broken his leg during the winter, but was mending fine by spring. I had Tornado by then and we needed meat, so I went hunting. I got lucky and found a buck mule deer right away. It was so close to home I didn’t even bother field dressing it. I just dragged it home. I was half a mile from the front door when I heard screams and gunshots from inside the house. I rode like hell but was careful not to make any noise going up the front steps to
the porch.
“Through a window, I saw my dad rocking in his chair in the main room, with blood covering his face and chest. A Chinese soldier in a ragged uniform lay on the floor, trying to stop his own blood from gushing out of his thigh. Dad had gotten off a shot from a black powder pistol he’d made and defended his granddaughter before they killed him. I couldn’t see Nado, until I opened the front door slow enough that it didn’t squeak.
“She was under a table, holding a knife, and a second Chinese soldier reached down to grab her. She was about three years old. His hand touched the floor and she stabbed it so hard the knife drove into the wooden floor and pinned his hand. He was reaching for a pistol when he turned and spotted my rifle pointed at his head. Before he could say anything, I shot him twice in the left temple. I told the other man I’d save him if he told me about the rest of his group, but they were deserters. It was just the two of them.”
“Did you save him?”
“I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to, which was good, because I didn’t want to. He bled out within three minutes. The stain is still there in the wood.”
Neither spoke for several minutes.
“It gets to be a lonely life,” Jane finally said.
She glanced over to see if he’d reacted to the comment, like he had earlier, but this time he hadn’t. She filed that away for later use.
#
Chapter 16
All fled—all done, so lift me on the pyre—
Standing Before Hell's Gate Page 9