by Chris Hechtl
He'd worked as a dock worker for his entire life. First for Ben Franklin Crafts, then when they went under he'd transferred to one warehouse after another before ending up working at Costco. And now this.
“Every little bit helps I guess,” his not quite teenage daughter Wendy said, waving a hand. “Dad I'll eat it, I mean, its corn flakes but right now food's food. We take what we can get.”
“It's mostly crumbs,” Jerry grumbled. He was surprised by his daughter's rather adult take on the situation. Many of the kids had matured in the crisis. Some were reverting to whiny, lazy, selfish brats, but the rule that everyone worked applied to them as well. That at least he liked. The kids needed to learn the right attitude and not expect everything to be handed to them. Not anymore.
“You mind dude? You're sort of holding up the works,” another dock worker said. “Sorting's someone else's problem.”
“Yeah dad. Besides, they can always feed the crumbs and bits we don't eat to the animals.”
“They can?” Jerry asked, not noticing Jen coming up behind him.
“That's right they can. Good point,” Jen said taking the box from his hands as he turned. “So save what you can. Even if its past the expiration notice. Crumbs, anything. We'll feed it to the animals if we have to.”
“Oh,” Jerry said nodding dumbly. Wendy's eyes were wide.
“Good catch young lady,” Jen said, smiling to Wendy. The tween blushed a bit and bobbed a curtsy. Jen took in her Goth look, complete with black nail polish and rumpled poodle skirt covered in purple skulls. At least she'd washed her face makeup off. Probably because she'd cried so much she'd looked like a ghoul. “If you need better clothes to work on the docks let us know young lady,” she said.
Wendy grimaced and lifted the hem of her skirt to show her ripped fishnet nylon. There was a scratch and a welt under it. “Yeah, that might be a good idea,” she said. There was a good sized welt there; she'd obviously gotten too close to something sharp.
“Jeans,” Jerry said with a nod. He felt a pang. It was his responsibility to protect and provide for his family. Now what was he going to do?
Jen pursed her lips and then shook her hair out a bit with a head flick as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “No you don't need to bother...” Wendy said hand out but Jen had already dialed and had the phone to her ear.
She held up a restraining hand for quiet and then smiled. “Phyllis? This is Jen. I've got a little lady and some people on the docks who need proper work clothes. Shoes or boots too if you've got them. I know that the field crews got first dibs, but if... yes. Can you dig through... oh, yes okay, um...?” She looked at the girl. “I don't suppose you know what size?”
“Do they have designer jeans?” the girl asked, eyes wide. She was bouncing a little and practically drooling. Her father snorted.
Jen rolled her eyes. “You know what; I'll send her to you. It'll make fitting better and easier. When you're done send her back and the next person can go. All right, gotta go,” she said and then hung up.
“Okay,” she said looking around. Half the work crew was in clothes that really weren't suited for working on the docks. One guy was in a suit, another woman had pajama bottoms on. A couple of people were in sweats. Obviously people hadn't had time to change. That had to change she thought, coming to a fast decision. “Can I have your attention folks?” she asked stepping up onto a pallet so she could be seen over the crowd of people and boxes. The super, Troy looked up from his clipboard and scowled at the interruption.
“This will only take a moment. Phyllis is in charge of our clothing department. She's going to set up an assembly line to get you folks some better clothes. Or at least try to get you a second set for those of you who don't have it yet.”
“Do we have a laundry?” a woman asked. She picked at her stained outfit. She at least had jean shorts on.
“A small one. A couple of machines in the home improvement center right now and they are overloaded. We're working on it. So, Wendy is going to head over to Phyllis and get a change of clothes. When she gets back you're super Troy will pick someone else to go. One at a time we'll do this so we don't mess up the schedule. That sound good to you?” she asked looking at the super. Troy looked around and then shrugged.
Jen nodded and turned back to the crowd. “For those of you who want you can head over to her during your meal break but remember she might be on break too. Troy can you pass this onto the other crews to do the same?” she asked. He nodded. “Good. Its time we get you folks some protection.” She frowned at the bruises and scratches a few were sporting. A couple had sunburns. She winced. “And if the burn or injury bothers you see the medics about getting some aloe. That is all,” she said. She looked to get down. Jerry looked up and held out a hand. She took it and used it as a support to get down, smiling her thanks.
“Ma'am, thank you,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
“Its what we should have done a while ago,” Jen said with a shrug. “Come on young lady, I'll show you where to go and then you can tell the next person and so on. Okay?” she said. Wendy grinned and positively skipped in anticipation. Jerry grinned at Jen.
“She's getting new clothes; I think she was going into withdrawal from not shopping for a couple of days let alone an entire week.”
Jen sputtered with mirth, hand over her mouth. “Well, we can't have that,” she said eying the girl once more. “Now can we? Come on, we'll find you something that's both fashionable and safe,” she said motioning for them to go.
...*...*...*...*...
Hermes looked up and frowned at the line. There were a hundred people in line, but it was being held up by the server talking to a fat balding guy in a rumpled business suit. “What's going on here?” he asked coming over and drying his hands with a hand towel.
“It’s him,” the server said pointing to the guy. Hermes looked them both over.
“What about him?” the chef asked, looking the guy up and down again. The guy looked uncomfortable but defiant.
“He's been here before. Second time in an hour. He was at the Cinnabon an hour ago too. I saw him when I was passing by on my way here to work,” the server said, eyes flashing and lifting her chin.
“There are a lot of people here, you could be getting confused you know,” Hermes said cautiously. The woman shook her head.
“I recognize him. He hit on me yesterday. And he's still got that nasty stained tie on. I'd recognize that anywhere,” she said pointing to the offending garment accessory.
“Sir can you explain yourself?” the chef asked waving to Jayne and Jen. “Let's take this over here,” he said as the two came over with Bill on their heels.
“What's up?” Jayne asked. She nodded to Hermes. “Do I know you?” she asked the big guy in the rumpled suit.
“Nevland. Jim Nevland, I work at... I mean I worked at the auto dealership on the other end of town,” he said licking his lips, looking around nervously. “Look I just want to eat.”
“Which is the problem,” the server said coming over. Jayne glanced behind her. Someone else had taken her place. The babble of voices around them was subdued.
“What problem?” Jayne asked. “Brenda right?” she asked. The woman nodded.
Brenda indicated Nevland with a look of disgust. “This guy's been coming through the lines all day. I've served him twice for lunch. He was just down in Cinnabon an hour or so ago.”
“So?” the man demanded. “I'm hungry! The food may be slop but its something!”
“Slop?” Brenda asked, eyes flashing. “Tell me fat man, did you do anything to work for that extra food?” Brenda demanded hotly. Jayne put a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“Ease up Brenda,” she said looking at her and then to the offender. “One meal to a customer sir. That's the rule. Each gets three meals a day total if you work.”
“What do you mean! That's communist!” the man said. “Besides you can't prove I've had more than one meal!”
&nb
sp; “We've got a witness right here who says you did. We can check the video surveillance.” She pointed to the cameras hanging from the ceiling.
“Or you could just ask me,” a cold voice said beside them. They turned to see an older woman and her husband. Both were glaring at the man. “He cut ahead of us an hour ago. Said he had gone to the bathroom and came back.”
“Really?” Brenda asked disgusted. She looked at the guy like he was a cockroach. “Tell me have you earned any of that extra food?” she demanded.
“That's enough Brenda, we'll take it from here,” Jayne said. The woman's eyes flashed. “I said that's enough Brenda. We've got it. We'll take care of it,” she said firmly. Brenda's eyes dimmed a little and then she nodded and turned away.
“Now, I guess you're new here, so we'll set you straight. Everyone works. Three square meals a day. No seconds. Everyone gets a place to sleep. Right now we're hot bunking. If you don't like that you can leave.”
“That's communist!” the man said, jutting his chin out. His chin quivered though. He knew he was on shaky ground. His eyes darted around the room. He didn't find many supporters.
“No, that's fair. Everyone works,” Jen said gently but firmly. She indicated a guy in a wheelchair pushing a broom. “Everyone,” she said again, turning back to the offender. The entire food court had gone silent and still as the group watched. “We all need to pull our own weight. We've got a lot to do to survive here. As my husband said, the aliens don't care if you are a capitalist or a communist; we're all meat in their eyes. I'd prefer to work together to make sure that we don't end up on anyone's dinner table.”
“I've got money! I can pay,” the man said, eyes shifting left and right. “It's not right that you're making us do your dirty work! That we have to earn extra food!” he said whining. “Some of us are bigger and need more!”
“Really?” she asked quietly. Too quietly, Bill recognized the signs of Jen in a temper. “We don't give a shit about money. It's not even worth using as toilet paper. Tell me, what have you done since your arrival? I haven't seen you working here. Where have you worked sir?”
“I told you the car dealership!” he said, thumbs going into his belt.
“That was then, this is now,” she said drumming her fingers on her belt. “I reiterate what have you done since you arrived. Have you gone out to work on the wall?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“I can't go out there! The creatures are out there!” the man said, eyes wide in panic. He started to tremble. Bill shook his head, hoping the fat tub of lard wouldn't faint here. That was all they needed.
Her eyes narrowed. “Really, so I'm guessing you haven't been outside at all. Now, what have you been doing besides eating? Anything?” she turned around and waved. “Anything at all? Swept? Moved boxes? Set up beds? Served food? Stood watch? Worked in the hospital? Done laundry? We've got work details all over the mall. If I check with the section heads will I find your name on any of their lists?”
“What lists?” he asked in confusion.
She snorted. “Everyone works. Its how this system functions. We all have to do our part. Whether it is to go out and fight, gather resources, clean, cook,” she indicated Hermes who bobbed a nod in thanks, “Keep the peace,” she pointed to Bill who cocked his head. “Or manage the rest,” she said indicating herself and Jayne. “Now, did you do anything since you've arrived?”
The man just looked around, face pouting. His hands went into his pockets. “Anything?” she asked again softly. She turned to the group. “Does anyone know if this guy has done anything at all to help the community?” she asked raising her voice.
People shook their heads. A few had ugly expressions on their faces. She studied the crowd and then went back to looking at him.
“They're making us do their dirty work! Setting themselves up as royalty!” he said desperately to the crowd. He looked around. “Why can't I eat? You've got plenty of food!” he demanded throwing his hands out.
“We've got plenty of food now. But the trucks aren't running. The farms are swarming with aliens,” Jayne replied patiently. She was eager to get that point across.
“You mean we don't have enough food?” someone asked, voice going shrill as she got out of her chair. Jayne rubbed her temple and turned to the crowd.
She motioned for them to remain seated. “Folks, we've got enough food for now. For a month, maybe two with our current population. But as all of you know, we're adding more daily. The more people we get the less food to go around. So we need to set up the greenhouses to supplement the food supply, and we need the farm to work so we can have fresh eggs and milk as well as plants to eat later. Above all, we need the scavengers to go out and get us food and materials to live. Don't panic. We've got food,” she said. “What we can't afford is dead weight,” she said turning back to the fat man. She gave the car dealer a dirty look.
Voices began to murmur as diners talked to one another. Jen grimaced. “Put your foot in your mouth,” she muttered, leaning over to Jayne. She winced when she saw more than one person filming the entire thing with their camera phones.
“Yeah,” Jayne sighed. “Rumors will be flying all over the place soon,” she grumbled. She raised her voice. “Folks, we don't need hoarding, we don't need panic, we need everyone to keep focused and keep working to a better tomorrow. You're not going to get anywhere in a panic,” she said as a few people started to get up.
“The only one who wins is the aliens,” Bill rumbled loudly. He glared at the people heading to the food line. “Sit back down,” he said, hands crossing in front of him. Sheepishly a few did. A few others froze, and then slunk back to their chairs. “Most of you here have earned your keep. Keep it up. We don't care what you do, as long as you do it. Benny over there sweeping is helping. He's not a burden and he doesn't ever intend to be does he?” he turned to the guy in the wheelchair. The guy shook his head and then went back to sweeping. “See?” he spread his hands apart. “If he can do it in his position then so can each of us. If you are doing something menial, just grin and bear it until something better comes along. Check the web and keep your ear open for something that you can do or interests you. What you're doing frees up someone who has skills we need, to put them to use.” He turned on the car dealer.
“That includes you. Since you're not interested in going outside,” he made it sound like an insult the way his voice dripped in sarcasm. “Then you can go scrub toilets and clean bathrooms.”
“I don't have to take that!” the fat man said, jutting his chin out. “This is a free country still!”
“That it is,” Jayne said, interposing herself in between Bill and the offending man. She poked him in the belly. “But if you want to remain here you will do a job or I'll personally escort you outside and off our territory. Got it?” she demanded poking him to emphasize each word.
His eyes darted around, taking in the set stone like faces of the others. Finally his face fell and his jaw quivered. “All right. Fine,” he muttered turning away, clearly pouting.
“We'll get you fresh clothes later. Report to Phillip or Miguel,” Jen said pointing to the rest room entrance. “We'll let them know to expect you,” she warned.
“And no more seconds,” Jayne said. She turned on the crowd. “That goes for everyone people! Those that are taking extra rations are taking food away from you in the future. From you and your kids. We make enough each meal for everyone. Just enough. Don't screw that up or someone else goes hungry,” she said. Her eyes roved over the group and then she turned to Jen and Bill. Bill was escorting the offender through the line. A few people looked ready to kick the guy.
“Come on,” Jayne said leading Jen away. They went to the arcade, feeling eyes on them. Jen glanced but Jayne ignored it as they kept moving. She led her off through a side entrance by the arcade and into the back halls. When the door shut she slumped against a wall, head down.
“Damn,” Jen said shaking her head.
“I don't need this
shit,” Jayne said.
“I think we need to take steps,” Jen said thoughtfully after a moment.
“Oh?” Jayne asked looking up.
“Yeah. I think we need a system in place. ID's or a clipboard or tablet or something. Someone gives a name, they get fed. I dunno.”
“Gabriel. We can ask him to make ID's and set up a system,” Jayne said nodding.
“Gabriel?” Jen asked. She'd heard of him but didn't know he could do something like that.
“Gamer kid. Programmer. Big fluffy guy. Good heart. Worked in the arcades setting the network up and did some freelance for the mall. I think he's in the radio room or security.”
“Let's go find him.”
...*...*...*...*...
They found Gabriel a few minutes later. The big guy was busy typing away at a computer. “You want me to do what?” he asked turning to them, eyes wide after they told him what they wanted.
“We want you to set up an ID system. Either with people's existing ID's or a totally new system.”
“Why?” the big heavyset programmer asked. He liked to joke about how he wasn't fat, he was “fluffy.” He even had a few shirts with that joke on them. Unfortunately they were all at his old house. That sucked.
“Look we've got a problem. We've got to ration the food. You know that the trucks stopped right?” he nodded. “Farms are wasted. Its going to take time to get things back in order. Maybe months, maybe never. Until then we've got to ration what we've got. The problem is people are getting seconds, thirds, or gaming the system. They spend the day going from one food area to the next, eating all day, all night. We've even had to roust out people who were hiding from work crews.”
“Um...” His brows knit and then he nodded. “You are talking about what just happened in the food court right?” he asked. He pointed to a nearby screen showing a split view of the food court.
“Saw it huh?” Jen asked smiling a little.