He carried everything back into his room, and selected the things he would need downstairs for a shower and change of clothing. Twenty minutes later when he stepped out of the bathroom, he felt a new man. Or, more accurately, he felt like the old one, the one who existed before the war. Hot water! Imagine that!
“You would be Wolf,” another of the fit and healthy-looking young men said to him. “I’m Tavis. I’ll show you around today. Tomorrow you can begin work.”
“Work?”
Tavis smiled. “The leader has not told me what she plans for you, Wolf, but I know it will be something useful. Something you’re capable of doing for the good of us all here in Paradise.”
“What do you do when you aren’t guiding strangers around the place?”
“I’m an irrigation technician,” Tavis said.
“Irrigating what?”
“You’ll see. You will see everything. But first, let’s have some breakfast, shall we?”
Breakfast consisted of Wheaties. The crunchy flakes were beginning to turn limp and stale with age, despite having been sealed in their boxes since sometime before the war. Even so, they tasted good soaked in canned milk and covered with sugar. Tavis offered no objection when Wolfe prepared a bowl for the dog, too, complete with milk and sugar.
“You have it good here,” Wolfe observed over his third cup of real coffee.
“As a matter of fact, we do.”
“How do you manage?”
Tavis smiled. “There is no secret about it. There were lots of warehouses in the Salt Lake City area. People scavenge goods out of those and bring them to us for trade.”
“You mentioned irrigation earlier. Are you growing crops here somewhere and trading fresh goods for manufactured ones?”
“Something along those lines,” Tavis told him. “And, we do grow a few things, although mostly for our own use. What we are raising here, what people desperately want now, is horses—cattle, too, to some extent. But our real wealth is in our horses.”
“The land around here is desert,” Wolfe blurted. “How could you raise horses on it?”
“We raise alfalfa on the flats beside the river,” Tavis said. “That is what we’re irrigating. And we feed the horses and cattle with that alfalfa.”
“It didn’t take this Mistress Alethia of yours long to establish such a complex arrangement. The war was only two years ago.”
“That’s right. But the leader is far-seeing. Immediately after the war, she looked around and saw the potential here. She put her plan into effect at once. You see the result around you. Or, anyway, you will, as soon as we finish here.”
“I’m done,” Wolfe said, pushing his empty bowl away. He felt good, actually. Clean and refreshed. In a way, it was a shame he would have to leave. But he did have to leave. He had to find Lurleen and Jojo. Or, at least determine that he never would. “Lead on, friend Tavis.”
The dog jumped up and walked close by Wolfe’s side as they headed out to meet the new day.
Chapter Ten
“Tell me something, Wolf,” Tavis asked several hours later. “…if you don’t mind.”
They were taking a break from walking several miles in the heat so they could look over the town and the fields surrounding it. At the moment, they were sitting atop a high bluff overlooking the small, very green valley, with the thin silver ribbon of water running through it.
“Ask away,” Wolfe offered.
“What do you think of the regulators?”
The oddity of the question took Wolfe by surprise and he had to think for a moment to work out what Tavis meant. “The clocks, you mean? What do I think of regulator clocks?”
“That is what the term ‘regulator’ means to you, Wolf?” Tavis asked.
“Sure. I suppose it could be applied to some other things, too, of course. Mechanical, electrical—I’m sure lots of things would have parts that would be regulators. Toasters—now there’s something I haven’t had reason to think of for a long time.” He scratched the dog under the chin and the animal leaned against his legs. “Isn’t a regulator what you call the part that tells the toast when to pop up?”
Tavis laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“How do you mean it?” Wolfe asked him.
Tavis shrugged and laughed again. “It was a nonsense question. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“If you say so.” Wolfe did not believe that, not for a minute. The question had been serious. He was certain of that. But he did not know what his answer was supposed to be.
“Anyway, you can see down there our real goal: alfalfa. The horses are over there.” Tavis pointed north. “They’re inside the canyon with all the clean water they could ever want, and, close by, the alfalfa. We can protect them from predators.”
“Or thieves?” Wolfe asked.
“Of course. But, then, those are just another predator, aren’t they?”
“I suppose so. What will you be doing, then? Selling the horses?”
“Of course. We started a breeding program. A few of our mares were already in foal when we acquired them last fall, so we already have some babies on the ground. And, we’ve been breeding all our mares this season. Next year, we expect to have a good crop. In the meantime, we have a few geldings that we can sell or lease.”
“Lease?” Wolfe asked.
“Why not? Civilization didn’t stop because of the war, you know? It only changed. And commerce goes on, regardless.”
“I guess it does, at that,” Wolfe conceded. “What will happen when those warehouses have been emptied and there are no more pre-war goods to be had?”
“The leader will have an answer to meet our needs. She already has something in mind, I’m sure.”
“I see. There’s something that just struck me. So far, I’ve only seen young men in Paradise. What happened to the old and the very young? What happened to all the women?”
“The town had been abandoned when the leader decided to occupy it and surround herself with her chosen few. Not all are men, though. There are women—a few. They cook and clean and they provide, uh…other necessary services, also. Each man in Paradise is allowed to visit them when he feels the urge. You’re new and haven’t yet earned your keep, but perhaps you would be allowed to visit with a woman.” Tavis smiled. “When we get back, I’ll ask, and if it’s all right, I’ll take you over there.”
“You’re very kind,” Wolfe said. He was beginning to have some very serious reservations about Paradise and its people, and was glad he would not be staying. This afternoon, he thought, he would try to get a little sleep and tonight when he could see comfortably, he would take his things and go, with or without the missing rifle.
Chapter Eleven
Wolfe lay on the bed, the dog snoring, actually snoring at his side, when someone tapped lightly on the door.
“Come in.”
Tavis opened the door a crack and peeped in shyly. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I was just thinking.”
The dog woke up and yawned. Tavis gave its teeth a rather apprehensive look. They did look wicked, Wolfe thought. Worked mighty well, too. They certainly had slashed Ed Alston’s cheek wide open despite the animal’s normally placid demeanor. Maybe Tavis was wise to be wary of someone else’s dog.
“We can complete that tour now if you feel like it,” the young man said.
Wolfe thought that they’d done that this morning. Not that there was so very much to see—fields, barns, and horses outside the town, and a collection of sun-baked wooden buildings inside it. None of it seemed all that interesting to Wolfe, but then, he had no real interest in the place. He was only passing through on his way home to his family.
He sat up and slid his feet into his new shoes. Lordy, but they were comfortable!
The dog jumped off the bed and wagged its tail. It was ready to go whether he was or not.
“Can you leave him here?” Tavis asked, pointing to the dog. “I don’t think…well, I just don’t
think it would be a good idea.”
Wolfe shrugged and motioned for the dog to stay. It sighed but settled obediently onto the rug. Wolfe suspected it would be back onto the bed before he and Tavis reached the stairs, but he didn’t really mind. Truth was that he was becoming fond of the animal.
“After you,” he said, and pulled the door closed behind him as he followed Tavis into the third-floor hallway.
Chapter Twelve
Tavis flagged down a passing wagon and the driver pulled his team of thin, rather shaggy-looking horses to a stop so that they could hop onto the tailgate. They sat with their legs dangling off the back of the ancient and sun-bleached farm wagon. Wolfe was reminded of the time when he was a boy and they went on a hayride in the fall. He could not remember the occasion, but guessed it had something to do with Halloween, or possibly Thanksgiving.
The driver shook his reins and the pair of horses started forward, the wagon lurching so hard that Wolfe almost lost his balance and fell off.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine, thanks.”
“I should have warned you.”
It felt strange to be riding after all this time. Even the walking pace of a horse-drawn wagon felt oddly swift.
If he had a horse, Wolfe realized, he could make it home much faster than by walking. On the other hand, he knew nothing about horses except what he’d seen on television. He suspected that having watched a few cowboy shows on the tube was not enough to earn him any credits in the school of horse husbandry. Still, it would be nice.
“We only use the geldings to pull vehicles or work under saddle,” Tavis was explaining. “All the breeding stock is kept in the valley back there where I showed you. They’re under armed guard day and night.”
“You have to guard them?” Wolfe asked.
“Predators,” Tavis said, then turned his head away to look at the buildings they were passing. After a half-mile or so, the wagon turned the corner and Tavis called out, “We’ll get off here, Barry.”
The driver signaled the horses to stop and the two tailgate passengers slid down to the ground.
“Thanks, Barry.”
“Thank you, Mister.”
The wagon rattled off about its business and Tavis led Wolfe to what used to be a motel, although the line of low, concrete block cabins seemed old enough to have been a motor court when it was new, back before the term ‘motel’ was even coined.
“What’s this?” Wolfe asked.
Tavis snickered. “You’ll see.” He entered the office and tapped a bell on the counter.
Chapter Thirteen
The man who emerged from a room at the back of the office looked like a weightlifter, Wolfe thought, or perhaps one of those California surfer boys who spent all their time on the beach working out with weights. He was blond, with bulging muscles and a deep tan. He was carrying a spiral-bound notebook and a pen.
“This is the man called Wolf. He’s a guest. The leader said he should be given a visit here to get acquainted.”
“Oh, yes,” the beach boy said.
Wolfe was entering his forties and trying not to show it.
“I heard he would be coming. What about you, Tavis? You want your turn now?”
“Sure. Why not?”
The man behind the counter opened his book and began searching through it.
Tavis turned to Wolfe. “Each of us is entitled to one visit per week,” he explained. “Andrew here keeps track to make sure no one is abusing the privileges. Of course, we can earn extra visits if the leader thinks we deserve them. Or our visits could be taken away for disciplinary reasons.”
“I see,” Wolfe said, not at all sure that he did understand. So far, all he saw was a run-down old motel.
Andrew found whatever he was looking for in the notebook and made a mark, presumably checking off Tavis for his week’s visit to the motel. He closed the book and laid it on the counter, pulled open a drawer and brought out two room keys. He handed one to Tavis, checked the number on the tag, and gave the other to Wolfe. “Have fun.”
“Thank you.” Still puzzled, Wolfe followed Tavis back outside.
“Just go to the room number on your key and go inside. It’s yours until morning.” Tavis, smiling and obviously eager now, hurried down the row of motor court cabins to find his.
Wolfe glanced at the key in his hand. The oblong, plastic tag had a large number ‘3’ on it. “Cabin three, then. Fine.” Wolfe suspected he knew now what he would find there. He hoped he was wrong. The door stuck slightly when he tried to open it. He gave it a shove and entered.
The cabin smelled musty with age, but there was nothing old about the girl who sat on the side of the bed inside. She was in her late teens or early twenties, Wolfe guessed, with long, red hair, a pretty face, and a very generously endowed figure. Wolfe could see that figure quite well, as she was naked.
She sat facing away from him. He was not sure, but he thought she was trembling. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.
Chapter Fourteen
Wolfe walked around to the far side of the bed where she was seated. When he reached her, she sat still without looking at him. She made no attempt to cover herself.
“Would you stand up for a moment, please?”
She did so, moving mechanically, head and eyes down. Wolfe reached behind her and pulled the sheet off the bed. He spread it out wide and wrapped it around her. The girl’s eyes found him then, wide with inquiry. Wolfe smiled at her.
“You’re a lovely girl, but I’m a married man.” The smile turned into a grin. “We wouldn’t want to push this temptation thing too far, would we?” He gestured. “Sit down, why don’t you? Relax. My name is Wolfe and I’d like to talk with you tonight.”
The girl nodded and sat rather gingerly on the edge of the bed as if poised to flee if need be. “I can see why she calls you Wolf. There is something about you. I mean, you look like a very nice man, but…I hope you don’t get mad at me, Wolf.”
He laughed. “My name has nothing to do with that pretentious woman who calls herself—what was it, again? Alethia? No, my name really is Wolfe—with an ‘e’. Jim Wolfe. And I’m just passing through, trying to get home to my family.”
“Then you aren’t—” She did not finish the sentence.
“I’m not what?” he asked.
“They told me I’d be entertaining you. I’m supposed to question you. You know, bed talk. The leader doesn’t trust you. She wants to know more about you.”
“All she had to do was ask.”
“Oh, she wouldn’t trust anything you just up and told her.”
“Funny, I’ve often found that people who are not trusting of others are often not trustworthy themselves.”
The girl glanced around as if afraid they were being overheard.
“Is the room wired?”
She shook her head. “No. They would, but there isn’t enough power right now, and they can’t find all the snooper gadgets they want. They know where some are, but there’s too much radiation. It wouldn’t be safe to use them.”
“Would you mind telling me more about the place, then?”
“You aren’t—” She looked frightened, and he thought she shuddered, her shoulders shaking just a little beneath the loosely wrapped sheet.
Wolfe raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.
“You aren’t here to try and trick me into something, are you?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that?”
“I told you. She doesn’t trust people. Last week there was a man. He was asking a lot of questions. I think maybe he was trying to see if I’m loyal.”
“And, are you? Loyal, I mean?”
She made a face. “God, no. I’d be away from here in a heartbeat if I could.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“You don’t know? You really don’t?”
“No. That’s why I asked.”
“Mr. Wolfe, Mistress Alethia’s ‘Paradise’ is a t
rap. It is a horrid place where everyone exists just to do her bidding. She’s an evil person, Mr. Wolfe, truly evil, and that is not a word I use lightly. She’s evil just like it says in the Bible—that kind of evil.”
“I’d like you to tell me about Paradise, please.” He smiled. “But, first, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to tell me your name. Then, maybe we can help each other, because I don’t know nearly enough about Paradise. But I do know that I’ll be leaving here—tonight, if possible—tomorrow night, at the very latest. If you want to leave with me, you’re welcome to come along.”
Chapter Fifteen
“My name is Rebecca Morrison. Everybody calls me Becca, or they did.” Her nose wrinkled with disgust. “She named me ‘Blossom’, so that’s what everybody here calls me now, and I hate it. And she had me put this gunk on my hair to make it red like hers. Hmph! Hers is as fake as this color. My hair is really brown. Kind of mouse brown, but I don’t mind that. It’s my real color, and I was happy with it. The leader, she has something about red hair, so she made me color mine. And made me do this—reward the workers. That’s what they call it. It isn’t prostitution. It’s a nice way to reward the faithful. I want to puke every time somebody walks through that door.”
“You can’t say no?” Wolfe asked.
“Oh, I tried. In the beginning, I tried. Alethia, or whatever her name really is, she knows… she knows how to hurt people. Hurt them really, really bad, in ways, in places, that you don’t want to know.”
“She hurt you?”
Becca nodded. “Three times. The last time was—I couldn’t bear to go through that again, Mr. Wolfe. Is it all right if I call you Jim?”
“Of course.”
“I couldn’t stand for her to do that to me again, Jim, so I’ve been…I’ve done whatever she wants of me ever since then. She says I’m pretty. I don’t think so, but she uses me when she wants to get information out of somebody, or wants to give them something special. She taught me things that—I hate it, Jim. I hate it so bad sometimes I wish I had some way to kill myself. If I can’t get away any other way, I guess someday I’ll do that.”
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