The Road North

by Phillip D Granath

  By the time Zebadiah finished both Coal and Kyle were openly staring at him. Kyle had the sense of mind to add his own, “Amen.” While Coal mumbled beneath his breath, “Well I’ll be Goddamned,” before he started eating again.

  If the farmer heard Coal’s muttered blasphemy, he didn’t mention it and instead stood silently watching the two men eat. The whole scene would have seemed awkward to Kyle if he hadn’t been so distracted by the food. The meat was juicy and seasoned with salt and some type of herbs, while the potato drizzled with butter was easily the best thing he had eaten in over a decade. It seemed odd to drink anything other than water, but once the scavenger tasted the goat’s milk, any reservations, he may have had vanished. As Kyle ate, he became more and more aware of the farmer hovering over them.

  “Why don’t you sit down and join us Zebadiah?”

  The farmer nodded quickly and then fetching a stool from by the fireplace sat down at the head of the table next to Kyle. It was easy to see that the man was trying to build up his nerve to say something and Kyle just hoped he would have some type of answer for him.

  “You got something on your mind?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry for asking, but you all seem so…so…different, than the others we’ve seen pass through here.”

  “How so?” Coal asked between mouthfuls.

  “I mean the way you speak, your clothes, everything,” the man replied hesitantly.

  Kyle paused for just a moment, “We’ve been outside of the Protectorate for a long time. We’ve been out…”

  “Scouting,” Coal supplied.

  “Yes, scouting. Just scouting out things to the south of here. A long ways south.”

  “We needed to blend in with the locals,” Coal added.

  Zebadiah was nodding now, “I suspected as much. We hear terrible things about what goes on down there.”

  “It’s not pretty, especially Phoenix.”

  “All of Arizona has gone to shit, nothing but cannibals, wild ass Indians and don’t even get me started on the white people,” Coal added. The half-breed had finished his meal and was now picking his teeth with his bone-handled hunting knife.

  Zebadiah gave Coal an odd look, and in the pause, Kyle saw the opportunity to steer the conversation away from them and perhaps learn something in the process.

  “How have things been around here? In this area of the Protectorate, I mean.”

  The farmer nodded and then looking down at his hands carefully replied, “It hasn’t been easy. A lot of evil men come through here, us being only a few miles from the bridge at Marble Canyon. We keep a low profile and most pass on by without even realizing we are here. But other times….,” the farmer paused for a moment as if lost in thought before continuing.

  “Almost three years ago I had another wife and a daughter. They were out checking on the stills one day when some men found them. We could hear their screams echoing up and down the canyon, but I had the rest of the family to worry about, so God forgive me, I just had to sit here and do nothing. Both of them are buried not far from where we found them. You see, this far out we only see members of the Protectorate maybe every few months. I’m not complaining, I understand what a large area you all have to cover.”

  Coal and Kyle shared a quick glance, “Sounds like maybe you should bring on a hired hand or two. You know, just have some other men around in case something like that happens again,” Coal offered.

  “Not many would choose to live way out here like we do and until last year my son was here with us as well.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He’s doing his part. We have a lot of mouths to feed and not much of value. So when the tax came due a few years back, and we couldn’t pay our share, Thomas volunteered for conscription instead. Last we heard he was somewhere in Colorado, but we haven’t heard from him in sometime,” Zebadiah explained.

  Not sure what to say, Kyle said, “I’m sorry, that must be incredibly hard to bear.”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m complaining. We’re thankful for everything the Protectorate provides,” the farmer paused and then glanced at the shotgun leaning against the wall before he continued.

  “I just wanted you both to understand what my family has been through. What it’s like living out here and why I pointed the gun at you when we first met. I know the law and I realize I’m not even supposed to have it, but…”

  The farmer was cut off mid-sentence as Coal began to loudly choke. The bounty-hunter pounded on the table and was finally able to spit out the bit of gristle he was chewing on. As soon as it was out, Coal turned to the farmer, “What in the fuck did you just say?” he demanded in disbelief.

  Zebadiah’s eyes went wide with fear, he quickly tried to stammer out a response, but Kyle shouted over him. “Shut up Coal!”

  “I’m sorry, I really am, and I know the Protectorate provides all of the protection that we need. I just… I just couldn’t stand the idea of losing anyone else! We’re not troublemakers, and we’re not bushwhackers, were just honest folks. The last thing we want is to cause any problems or rebel like them others.”

  Zebadiah’s voice was trembling now as he spoke, the words tumbling out of his mouth. The more he heard, the more Kyle realized how truly terrified the man was, and the more Kyle began to dislike whatever this Protectorate was.

  “I think I understand Zeb, I really do,” the scavenger said.

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “So… you mean you might be willing to overlook…the…the gun?”

  “I think so, yes. You gave us water, food and shelter, and right now you’re saving my friends life. Help us dig out our vehicle so we can be on our way again, and we’ll call it square.”

  The farmer took a ragged breath, like a drowning man finally able to come up for air and nodded his head. Kyle extended his hand to the man and the farmer shook it vigorously in reply. At the far end of the table Coal pulled the bottle from his coat, and after taking a long drag, he muttered to himself, “Outlawing guns. Now that’s just un-fucking American.”

  The Dead of Night

  Judge Neal pounded his gavel and bellowed, “I think I’ve heard enough of this nonsense.”

  The newly established courthouse was nothing more than an old office in the back of the Black Jackets’ clubhouse. The building had once been a private gentleman’s club, the kind that smelled of pipe tobacco and old books. Not the kind where the employees were paid mostly in one dollar bills and seemed to bath in discount body spray and glitter. The three-story building was made of brick and with the council’s help was now the most fortified place in town.

  “This is bullshit your honor!” Jasper shouted.

  The room only had enough space to allow two chairs to sit in front of the Judge’s desk. One held the defendant, in this case, Juan. While the other held the officer bringing the charges, namely Jasper. Behind them, a dozen observers crowded the doorway and the hall beyond. The legal system was still young enough to draw a crowd of onlookers whenever a case was tried, but this was something new entirely. News of the riot had spread quickly, and rumors were now running wildly across town with the Black Jackets’ headquarters being no exception. The crowd included every member of the city council, Anna and the Chief of Policing Rincone.

  “Let’s take a moment to clarify, shall we? You claim that Juan threatened you. Not aloud of course, because he’s mute, but on paper. A paper you can’t produce, and that no one else saw. Then this other boy, this Allen, attacks you?”

  “That’s right, the little bastard had a knife!” Jasper said holding up his bandaged arm.

  “Which several of your own men have stated, he would have used to gut you like a fish, if Juan hadn’t have stopped him.”

  “That kid is dangerous!”

  “It sounds like it, but he’s not here, and yet you want to charge Juan with starting the riot. And though many of the Black Jackets on hand agree with that, it was Allen’s attack on you that
set everything in motion. Others, several notable townspeople included are saying that the riot was more a result of the way you and you’re Black Jackets were abusing the crowd than what either of the boys did.”

  Behind Jasper Chief Rincone crossed his arms, he had been silent throughout the proceeding, and now he was just staring at the floor and shaking his head, obviously embarrassed by his men’s actions.

  “And on top of that, you want Juan charged with all of the damage resulting from the riot? Disturbing the peace, theft of water, multiple charges of assault on all of your men, etc., etc.” the judge continued.

  Jasper nodded vehemently, “Yes,” he said.

  “Thank you, I just wanted to be sure I understood,” the judge replied and then rapped his gavel again.

  “As I have been presented with no credible evidence that the defendant participated in the assault in any way and that on the contrary seemed to be trying to keep the situation from escalating by preventing Sergeant Jasper’s murder. I’m dismissing the assault charges against Juan.”

  “The fuck?” Jasper shouted.

  “Furthermore,” the judge said, shouting over Jasper’s outburst. “I’m dismissing all charges related to the ensuing riot. As all of the additional charges are predicated, incorrectly I might add, on that assault. I’m also going to issue a warning to Sergeant Jasper and to all of the other Black Jackets that are listening. As it sits right now we have no laws in place addressing this issue, so I can’t charge the Sergeant with making a wrongful arrest or bringing false charges as I would like, but I will be discussing this issue with the City Council. I intend to ask them to pass a city ordinance doing just that. This court is intended to be a tool for the people, all of the people, Black Jacket and civilians alike. Anyone who thinks that can use this court to beat someone they disagree with into submission, like just another club hanging from a belt, I promise you they will regret it. I also hope that you’re listening Chief Rincone and that you’ll see to it that we don’t have any more situations arise like this again.”

  “I ‘am your honor,” the Chief said.

  Rincone took a step forward and was now standing directly behind Jasper’s chair, and the Black Jacket Sergeant suddenly looked as if he desperately wanted to be anywhere else.

  “Juan you are free to go and the Court is dismissed,” Judge Neal announced and pounded his gavel down again.

  With that, the room erupted into talking and movement, as nearly all of the attendees tried to squeeze out of the narrow doorway at once. The judge leaned back in his chair, pulled a magazine from a drawer and put his bare feet up on the desk. He then started flipping through the pages as if he was all alone in the room. Anna was the first to reach Juan, she threw her arms around the boy and hugged him close or at least as close as her stomach would allow.

  “Juan, I’m so glad that you are safe. I’m sorry you had to go through all of this.”

  The boy nodded in reply and then began looking for something to write on, as his own notepad was lost in the struggle with Allen. However, before he could find anything Councilwoman Wadsworth and the rest of the City Council arrived.

  “Juan, we need to talk,” Wadsworth said.

  The boy nodded in reply, still sifting over the pile of magazines on the Judge’s desk looking for a suitable piece of paper.

  “Is it true this whole thing started because Jasper was sent to collect water to bring back here and you tried to stop him?” the Councilwoman demanded.

  Seemingly annoyed at Juan’s rummaging the judge paused his reading just long enough to reach into a drawer and toss the boy a pad of paper. Juan gave the judge a quick grin in thanks and then began to write.

  I did. You told me this place was already stocked with water, why send Jasper for more?

  Wadsworth let out a breath as if she sensed where the discussion was heading and already knew she wasn’t going to like it. Anna saw the look as well and added her own objection.

  “Jackson told me the same thing that you were already prepared for the pump to fail and that you had all the water you needed. What changed Wadsworth?”

  The Councilwoman shook her head and then rubbed at her temples for a moment, preempting the migraine she knew would come. She looked up, her eyes going back and forth before between the mute boy and the pregnant doctor before she finally relented.

  “The council came to the realization that once the water stops flowing, once we’re no longer providing it freely to everyone, that we essentially become powerless. We go back to the way things were under Murphy. Water becomes the only currency that matters.”

  “And the council decided it would corner the market, is that it?”

  “It’s not that simple,” Wadsworth replied.

  “Well, it sounds about that fucking simple to me. You’ll already have the water that’s left in the tower, thanks to Juan that is. I just can’t believe you people, it’s bad enough that you’re hiding away in here, behind your walls and your Black Jackets, but to deny people water, just so you can sell it back to them later? That’s low Wadsworth. You know, Murphy may have been a liar and a thief and a killer, but at least he knew what he was. The worst part about this is that you and your council, you still think you’re the good guys.”

  Wadsworth blinked twice and just stared at Anna for a moment in surprise. Then the doctor turned to look at Juan, “Come on Juan, the pump may only have a few hours of life left in her, but tomorrow morning we’re going to make sure she’s running.”

  Then the doctor looked around the room at what remained of the city council, “And we’ll be pumping water for the people of this town. If you want some, you come down and stand in line, just like everyone else.”

  Juan watched as Wadsworth’s eyes fell to the floor. Jackson also had the decency to look away, suddenly finding a corner more interesting than the Doctor or the boy. But Councilman Johnson stared at them both, with anger clearly upon his face. Anna took Juan by the hand, and the two of them walked from the room leaving the council members and the lounging judge behind.

  “We’re not really going to just let them walk out of here are we?” Johnson demanded.

  Wadsworth slowly nodded, “We are,” she said. “But they’ll come back. When the pump fails, where else can they go?”

  Even with Zebadiah’s help, it took Coal and Kyle most of the afternoon to dig out the buggy. A feat they were only able to accomplish once the farmer drove a steel spike into the wall of the cliff and used a block and tackle to pull the machine free.

  “This damn caliche, it’s so fine it sucks you down like quicksand,” the farmer said.

  “You get storms like that often?” Kyle asked.

  “No more than usual, once or twice a week.”

  “That’s usual?” Coal asked.

  “It has been since we moved out here, nearly five years ago now.”

  With the rover free from the sand Kyle was finally able to look the vehicle over more closely. It seemed that the same sand that had buried the rover so thoroughly had absorbed much of the impact on their landing. Other than several inches of sand in the cab and the LED light bracket being bent at an odd angle, the rover seemed fine. Kyle climbed behind the wheel, and after throwing a few switches the dashboard lit up and the electric motors hummed to life.

  “How does it look?” Coal asked.

  “Good, but we’re down to just two bars on the batteries.”

  “Makes sense, we drove her through a storm at night, and she spent most of the day buried. It’s not like she got much of a chance to recharge.”

  The farmer was nodding, “There is a spot in the canyon just ahead that gets light no matter the time of day, and it’s close to another path that leads up to the house. This way friends.”

  Coal crawled into the passenger seat next to Kyle as the scavenger followed slowly behind the walking farmer. The bounty-hunter had recovered his rifle and was now doing what he could to clean the sand from the weapon as they drove.

  “
Had a thought, while we were all digging back there,” Coal announced, his eyes never leaving the rifle.

  “Was it a good thought?”

  “I somehow doubt it.”

  “Well spit it out,” Kyle said.

  “When people first see this buggy, back in town I mean, what was the first thing they always ask?”

  “Oh shit, let me see. Where did you get that? How come it still works? Can I have a ride? All kinds of things, why do you ask?”

  “Don’t it kinda seem odd that old Zeb here hasn’t asked any of those questions? Or mentioned our little space car at all? ”

  Kyle’s eyes went wide for a moment, and then they settled squarely on the shoulders of the farmer walking just ahead of them.

  “Now why do you suppose that is?” Coal pressed, still wiping down his rifle.

  “FFFuuuuccckkkkk, because this isn’t the first one he’s seen.”

  “And the moment he saw us, who was he convinced we worked for?”

  “The Protectorate.”

  “Bingo,” Coal replied with a grin.

  “Damn it! And there is no way we can even ask him about it without him knowing we’re not them.”

  “Also bingo.”

  “The more I hear about these guys, the less I want to meet them,” Kyle said.

  “We could always wait until the last minute, once we got Miles all loaded up and ready to head out. Then we pull Zeb aside and get some answers, beat them out of him if we have too,” Coal offered.

  For a moment Kyle actually considered it, then the scavenger shook his head, “No, we won’t do that,” he said finally.

  “Whoever these Protectorate guys are, Zeb is scared to death of them. I think if he figures out we’re not telling the truth, he would still try and get word to them somehow. And all things being considered, I don’t want to hurt him. He opened his door to us, him and his family. I think he’s a good man that’s already been through enough.”