The Undead World (Book 8): The Apocalypse Executioner

by Peter Meredith

  As representatives of Estes, the four looked extremely underwhelming. Neil stood just an inch taller than Sadie and had maybe twenty pounds more muscle on him. He was disfigured, scarred and ugly. His left hand was missing two fingers, both bitten off by zombies.

  Captain Grey’s scars were mostly hidden beneath his BDUs which hung off him, giving him a gaunt appearance. Deanna was tall and regal, however her belly ruined her graceful lines and the protective hand she kept over it gave her a nervous air when she was anything but.

  Then there was Sadie. Few, even in Estes had her bravery and determination and yet, she wore mascara that was as black as her head to tail clothing. She was a “goth-girl” and looked it, with an emphasis on girl. She seemed younger than her eighteen years. The four would be easily discounted, if it wasn’t for their reputation.

  Neil stopped twenty feet shy of the first truck where a number of burly bearded fellows stood, most of them giving Sadie a lecherous eye, something she secretly enjoyed. Normally, she disappeared into Deanna’s shadow whenever the two were around men.

  “Before we bother with all of this,” Neil began, “please tell me your exchange rates concerning beef and game. I don’t want to waste your time.”

  “Well, that depends,” the largest of the men said. “How much beef are we talking? Is it butchered? Is it dried and salted?”

  “I have six full-on mature cows, aging nicely in an ice house. They’re skinned, but not butchered. All told, almost five-thousand pound’s worth. We also have seven hundred pounds of bear which is tastier than you could imagine. And another two thousand pounds of elk and venison.”

  This was all he had to make deals with. After the war with the Azael, many people were on the verge of leaving, forcing Neil to make concessions. Taxes on all goods produced or brought in to the valley were reduced from sixty percent down to fifteen percent.

  This meant he couldn’t afford the military that had sacrificed so much to save the valley. In a move that did not initially go over well, Neil had ordered the soldiers to become “self-sufficient.” Instead of constantly training or standing guard, part of their time had to go towards tending fields or hunting.

  This worked so well that the army could now feed itself and, for the first time, was actually paid. It was good for them, however the valley government didn’t dare try to tax these earnings for fear of a revolt and that left the treasury depleted.

  “Seventy-seven hundred pounds?” the leader of the Rangers asked. He had introduced himself simply as Maris. The others weren’t introduced at all and now looked on Maris as if he were the only one of them who had the ability to think. He blew out, sounding disappointed. “Only seventy-seven hundred…well, I suppose we could do twenty-five hundred gallons of unleaded for that.”

  “And if we chose bullets? How many rounds?”

  “Two thousand. You know how it is. With so many new oil tanks being discovered, the exchange rate is getting to be pretty screwed. Hell, I can remember when it would cost you…”

  Neil held up his disfigured hand. “Two-thousand is ridiculous. Thirty-eight hundred is the lowest I’ll go.”

  “Then I guess we’re done here,” Maris said, his arms crossed. Almost like a group of back-up dancers in a choreographed move, his men crossed their arms as well.

  “Seems rather short-sighted on your part,” Neil answered, “but I suppose you know your business better than I do. Have a good day.” Neil turned on his heel and marched straight away, Sadie and the others following behind.

  “I do know my business,” Maris said, raising his voice. “I know I’ll get my price from your people if you won’t deal.”

  Neil paused. Without turning, he spoke over his shoulder: “That’s not going to happen. The gate will remain closed as long as you remain out here. I will not have my people swindled.”

  Maris’ backup dancers started whispering, looking shocked that Neil would close his doors in their faces. Maris waved them into silence before addressing Neil. “Hold on! Who’s swindling who in this deal? Thirty-eight is too much and you know it. I could do twenty-eight hundred…maybe.”

  Neil tipped Sadie a wink before turning back to Maris. “I said thirty-eight and I meant it. Here’s what I know: this will be your last trip up here before winter really sets in. You used up a ton of gas hauling these great big trucks up here and you’ll use a ton more going back again. And once you’re down in the plain what are you going to do?”

  “There are plenty of people who are looking for what I got, Mister High-and-Mighty,” Maris growled.

  “Really? The next closest settlement is that tiny one down south of the Springs and they get regular traders all the time. You’ll be losing money just going there. And after that, where will you go? New Mexico? It’s a long way and a big risk. If it pays off, you might come away with what you could get here. If not, well, you probably don’t want to think about it.”

  The back-up dancers began to whisper to each other again. Maris glared them into silence. “It’ll pay off. Trust me, anything is better than getting swindled here by a cheat.”

  Neil shrugged, seeming unconcerned at the Maris’ rudeness. “Like I said, you know your business. Have a pleasant trip.”

  Once more, the little group turned away and had made it halfway back to the wall before Maris called out: “I’ll get to have free trade with the rest of your people?”

  “Bingo,” Neil whispered, sharing a quick smile with Captain Grey. Louder, he called out: “Of course. I will not interfere with free and open capitalism. Deanna here will work out the particulars of our deal. One rule: no smoking around her.”

  As Deanna left to arrange the transfer of their meat for the trader’s bullets, Grey clapped Neil on the back. He was weak compared to what he had been, but he was still stronger than most men and Neil began coughing from the blow.

  “That was something else, Neil. I would have caved and got maybe twenty-five hundred. Too bad you can’t bargain for everyone. I always hate when our people get rooked.”

  Still trying to catch his breath, Neil said, “I have bargained for everyone. I have set the exchange rate. Tell everyone who comes through that gate what the bullets to beef rate is. I’m sure they will get a little short-changed here and there, but it won’t be that bad.”

  Grey squeezed his shoulder in a friendly pinch and then hurried up the slope to get everyone up to speed. When he was gone, Neil began massaging his shoulder. “It’s good to see his strength is finally returning.”

  “Yeah,” Sadie agreed. “So, what sort of allowance can I get?” Neil was feeling magnanimous and told her a hundred. She left grinning her way to the trucks. The first three were filled with bombs and bullets and guns, items she didn’t really need or want.

  The next truck had the goods. Cookies and cakes and chips, and much more. Men were busy pulling the boxes out and setting them up to be displayed better. Sadie watched with her eyes simply jumping out of her head—they even had ice-cream.

  “How much for a scoop of chocolate?” she asked.

  One of the men quoted her a price that was twice what it should have been based on the exchange rate Neil had set. She shot back a much smaller amount to which the man only glared.

  “I don’t care what they dickered for,” he said, “this ice-cream will sell for what I say. When was the last time you saw ice-cream?”

  It had been a year, at least. He wanted thirty for a scoop, which was way too much. Thirty could feed a family for a week. Depressed, she walked away, heading for the last truck—the slave truck. The slaves were always in the last truck, as if the sellers themselves were embarrassed to be dealing in human flesh.

  The man standing at the metal door didn’t look the least bit embarrassed, however. He gazed down at Sadie’s trim form as he munched on back end of a wet stogie. “Looking for you mommy?”

  Sadie hesitated before mounting the crude ramp up to the door, but only for a moment. She had nothing to fear. If this man tried anything,
Neil would personally cut his balls off and stuff them down his throat—after Captain Grey had incapacitated him, of course.

  “My mother is dead,” she answered coolly. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Then maybe you’re looking for a daddy. I could be your daddy. I could take care of you real nice.”

  “I have a dad. Two of them, actually. My adopted father is Neil Martin, the man who runs this place, the man who personally kicked the Azael’s ass. And my real father is the River King. We’re not so close, but if you try anything, I will gut you right here.” She paused to show him the eight-inch bowie knife she always carried. “I will slice you right up the middle and I think dear old dad loves me enough that he would come all the way out here to piss into your open guts.”

  The man tried to smile only he looked as though he had eaten something slimy that kept trying to crawl back up his throat. “Yeah, right,” was all the retort he could muster.

  “Just stand aside. My father is looking for a reason to drop the exchange rate even further and you might be it.” This, more than the bluster had the desired effect and the man stood aside.

  The lighting inside the eighteen by forty-foot room was purposely dim to hide the pallor and the bruises. The shadowy nature also hid the fear in the women’s eyes. People do not thrive living in chains with the threat of rape constantly hanging over their heads. They tended towards lassitude and depression. Still, the women did what they could to look either beautiful or sexy or, if they couldn’t do either, they tried to appear at least pleasant.

  With the cloying incense coating her flesh, Sadie went down the main aisle where the women stood outside their curtained-off rooms. At the back was a short ladder leading to the second floor. She had just put one foot on it when “sexy” music started up, thrumming the walls with an endless dance beat.

  She went up, growing nervous. If there was a child, she would be up here and it would be heart-breaking. A dozen women eyed her sullenly as she went down the aisle. The last stall didn’t have a woman in front of it.

  With a look of nervous disgust, Sadie inched the curtain back with two delicate fingers holding just the very hem of the curtain. As expected, there was a mattress on the floor. The sheet had a horrible crust that made Sadie’s throat tighten-up. Quickly, she turned away. “Excuse me?” she asked over the beat of the music. “I’m looking for someone. A little girl. Her name’s Jillybean. She’s kinda quirky, but very smart. She’s got brown hair and blue eyes and is about this tall.” She held her hand just beneath the curve of her ribs.

  “I met a girl like that” one of the women said. “Was she seven?”

  Hope exploded in Sadie’s chest. The other women all seemed to draw back, so Sadie had a good look at the one who had spoken. She was neither sexy nor beautiful, and now she wasn’t exactly pleasant either. She was gaunt and pale with a feverish, haunted look to her eyes.

  “Yes, she is,” Sadie said. “Where did you see her? Is she okay? Is she still alive?”

  “I’ll tell, but you have to do something for me first,” the woman replied urgently, her words bubbling over each other. She advanced towards Sadie until she was brought up by the chain at her neck. “I’ll tell you, but you have to help me.”

  “What? Anything?”

  The woman waved Sadie closer and then glared the other women back. When Sadie got close, the woman grabbed her and hugged her in a foul-smelling embrace. She whispered, tickling Sadie’s ear: “You have to get me out of here. Buy me off of them and I’ll tell you where she is I promise.”

  “Sure, yeah, sure. Wait here.” The other women having heard this crowded close, grabbing at Sadie and begging: Buy me, please. Over here! I know Jellybean, too.

  Sadie pushed through them until she was out in the clean Colorado air where the man who ran the slave truck sat, picking his teeth. “Find something you want?” He had an evil, knowing look about him that stopped her short. Had he heard their conversation? If he had, there’d be trouble.

  “I’m interested in one of the women. Black hair…wears a print dress. Kinda skinny. Kinda ugly. Actually, she’s really ugly, but she reminds me of my mom, so…how much? Fifty?”

  “Maybe for the hour. If you want to buy her outright, it’ll be three thousand.” The number left her speechless.

  Chapter 5

  Neil Martin

  Neil knew better than to go down to the traveling market and gaze on and touch and linger over all the things his body longed for. He’d be lying if he said that all these were food-oriented. Sarah had been dead for five months and lately the days and nights seemed to stretch out, especially the lonely nights.

  But there was no way he could go down to the slave truck. In his heart, he was a foolish romantic and would fall for each of the women. He wouldn’t fall in love with them or even in lust, he would feel for them, he would empathize with their pain and sadness and he’d want to save each of them.

  It hurt him inside that he couldn’t help them. To try through violence or trickery would mean that the traders would never come their way again and the Valley’s needs had to come first. The traders, though frequently evil people, were necessary for their survival.

  Because of this, he stayed behind the wall and coached the groups going through on how to deal with the hagglers and the pricing strategies that were being employed. When his people came back, he took down notes of what was paid for each item and who had sold it.

  There were a number of weak links among the Rangers, men who weren’t natural salesmen. These tended to sell at lower prices and were easily pushed around by a headstrong buyer. He made sure to send his people to these weaker ones first. It gave them a psychological boost when going up against a hard-charging salesman.

  He had just finished talking with Fred Trigg and his little crew of “Trigglydites” as Captain Grey referred to the sycophants that hovered around Trigg due to his position on the commission when Sadie came bustling through the gate.

  “Neil! I might have found her,” she said, racing up the ladder. Neil didn’t even have time to ask who might have been found when she blurted out: “It’s Jillybean. One of the, uh, ladies in the last truck…the you-know-what truck, said she saw her. She described her perfectly.”

  Fred grimaced. “Jillybean? Really? Do we want to go down that path again?”

  “Yes, we do,” Sadie shot back. “She has her issues, but she is also a genius and I don’t know how many times she risked her life to save ours, and that includes your life as well, Fred.”

  “Of course, and she has my undying gratitude, but…” He paused to let out a long, tired, theatrical sigh. “The time of rescues and bombs and blowing things up is over. Now is the time to bring about a sense of normalcy to the Valley. We need to get on with living our lives.”

  “This is life, Fred,” Sadie shot back. “Life isn’t about sitting behind our walls while the world goes on. Life isn’t about…what’s the word, Neil?”

  “Complacency,” Neil said, filling in the blank and taking over the conversation. “We don’t know what the future holds. It could be all about puppies and apple pies and barn dances, or it could be dangerous and deadly.”

  As Neil took a breath, Fred jumped in to answer. “And that’s why we don’t want Jillybean around. She is the very danger you speak of. A swirling vortex of chaos surrounds her that strikes friend and foe alike.”

  Neil shared a quick look with Sadie. The little girl was a double-edged sword, there was no arguing that point. Though in Neil’s mind, there was no arguing any point. He wasn’t just the governor, he was virtually a dictator.

  To overrule him on any little thing, the six-person commission would have to vote unanimously and Neil was personal friends with three of the commissioners: Deanna, Grey, and Veronica Hennesy, a stout-hearted ex-whore who blossomed more every day.

  Fred Trigg controlled what he called the Opposition Party, although the Opposite Party would have been a better name. No matter what Neil said or did, Fred
took the opposite view. It was annoying, however Neil felt it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was a check to the governor’s power. In truth, if he wasn’t the governor, he would have suggested even more checks, but as a self-described benevolent dictator, he didn’t feel he needed them.

  “I think you fear the unknown too much, Fred. You can’t control Jillybean and that makes you nervous. Sometimes it makes me nervous as well, but it doesn’t stop me from seeing the tremendous potential there is in Jillybean. Have you considered what improvements she could make in our lives? If she were here right now, I would put her immediately in charge of energy production and I would bet good money that she would have the lights on in a month.”

  Their current electrical supply came from four commercial diesel generators each of which could put out 2,000 kilowatts per hour. This was more than what they currently needed, the only problem was that they sucked up diesel at a prodigious rate, a rate that could not be sustained day in and day out.

  “Oh, I’m sure she could get the electricity back on,” Fred agreed. “Knowing her, she’d set up a nuclear reactor down at the Denny’s and then accidentally blow us up.”

  “Stop being melodramatic,” Neil chided. “The girl needs a loving home and supervision. She won’t be constructing anything more dangerous than a kite. Sadie, where did this lady say she saw Jillybean?”

  Sadie cleared her throat and avoided looking in Fred’s direction as she said: “She wanted to talk to you, Neil.”

  His daughter wasn’t a good liar and Neil caught the air of deception in her voice. It made him nervous, but he didn’t let it show. “Right to the top? I suppose I understand. I’ll go talk to her…alone.” He could tell Fred was about to propose coming along and the way Sadie’s eyes widened, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. “Why don’t you show me which one she is, Sadie?”