by A. American
“What the hell does he want? We’ve got enough shit going on,” I replied. Then I looked at the dog, “get your ass out of there.” I opened the door and waited, Meathead just stared back at me.
“Let him be; he wants to go for a ride to.”
Sarge started the truck and headed towards the gate. “Guess we’re about to find out what ole Sheffield wants. Let’s go get Thad and Danny; I want the guys to stay here. Between them and Ian’s crew they should be able to keep this place secure while we’re gone.”
I shrugged, “Guess it won’t hurt much to get out; I wanted to go to the store on the corner anyway today.”
At Danny’s house Thad and Danny hopped in with us, and I climbed up into the turret, thinking it would be a nicer ride. Danny offered to take the position, but I told him I wanted to. He could ride with Meathead.
“How are the girls?” Thad shouted.
I ducked my head down inside the truck. “Good; better than I would have thought really.”
Thad smiled, “That’s good news; I was worried about Taylor.”
When I stood back up I saw Doc walking down the road, his ever-present backpack slung over his shoulder, and his weapon hanging from its sling. Sarge stopped beside him.
“Hop in with us Doc; we’re going to town,” Sarge said.
“Sounds good to me; got nothing else to do right now,” Doc said as he climbed in beside Thad.
Doc looked at Meathead, “Damn that mutt stinks. Don’t you ever give him a bath?”
Poking my head back inside I smiled, “Nope. Even if I did he’d still smell like death.”
At the barricade Sarge stopped again; Ian and Jamie were there. “Mornin’ Gyrene,” Sarge said to Ian.
“Semper Fi,” Ian replied with a smile.
“Keep your eyes open; that bunch of shit heads will probably be sniffin’ around,” Sarge said.
“We got this,” Jamie replied.
Sarge smiled at her, “I know you do.” Looking back at Ian, he said, “the guys are going to be doing roving patrols around the back door and a few other places.”
Ian nodded. “Yeah, we’re in contact with them; they’re staying in touch on the radio.”
Sarge nodded, “Good enough.”
Ian looked up at me with one eye squinted. “You know how to run that thing?”
I patted the SAW; “I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
Pointing at the muzzle, Jamie said, “Keep that pointed at the bad guys.”
“I tried.” I swiveled the weapon over the roof of the truck, “but it won’t go down far enough to get to Sarge.”
Jamie laughed. I thought I was out of his reach, until that the ball on the top of that damn walking stick hit me in the thigh. Luckily for me, it just off the mark the old man was aiming for. “You point a gun at me in a dream, and you better wake up and apologize,” Sarge barked.
I ducked down. “I’m sorry,” then acted like I was thinking, “sorry, sorry, sorry.”
Thad erupted in laughter, then added, “Me too, I’m sorry.”
Everyone caught on and before long it was one continuous chorus of sorry bombarding the old man between the laughter from all directions. Sarge looked around, “Keep it up you bunch of smart asses; keep it up.” He paused for a moment, then added, “you can kiss my ass!” Stomping on the gas, the truck lurched forward. I was laughing so hard I had to catch myself. Thad slapped my leg, and I could hear him still chuckling.
We rode down to the little store and Sarge wheeled into the parking lot. Business was picking up and there were a number of people set up offering an assortment of things for trade. When Sarge stopped, I climbed out and slung my carbine, heading straight to one of the tables. It was filled with jars of honey and candles of assorted diameters.
“Hey Mario, Shelly; good to see you guys,” I said, extending my hand. Mario gripped it and smiled.
“Good to see you too,” he replied with a firm shake.
Shelly came around the table and gave me a hug. “It’s good to see you too.”
The rest of the guys came up, and I introduced everyone. Thad picked up one of the jars on the table, “That’s some fine looking honey.”
“Yeah, Mario runs D&J Apiary, a pretty big operation back in the day,” I said.
“Still is,” Shelly replied with a smile.
“I guess so; your staff wasn’t much affected by all this,” Sarge said.
“We lost a bunch, only because we couldn’t get to them; but we’ve still got quite a bit,” Mario answered.
“How’s business?” Danny asked.
“Good, we’ve got plenty to trade,” Mario replied.
“We’ll take some,” Sarge said, sliding four jars across the table.
“You guys can have them; it’s good to see Morgan, and to meet you fellas,” Mario said.
Sarge reached into his pocket; “I appreciate it, but we’ll pay.” He held out a silver eagle, “this be enough?”
Mario smiled, “If you insist,” he said as he took the coin.
Sarge smiled, “I do. Thank you for the trade; this’ll be a real nice treat for everyone.”
Mario pocketed the coin, then reached out and tapped the star on my chest. “What’s that all about; I see you guys are all wearing them.”
“Eh, I was kind of made a Sheriff,” I replied.
“Made?” Mario asked.
I waved him off, “It’s a long story.”
“Why aren’t you guys wearing one?” Shelly asked Sarge.
“Cause we’re not part of it. We’re still in the Army, so we can’t be civilian law enforcement,” He stabbed a thumb in my direction, “I work for him.”
Thad laughed and I snorted, “Yeah, fat chance.”
“Are you really a Sheriff?” Shelly asked.
“As real as they get now-a-days; why you need something?” I asked.
Shelly looked at Mario, “Well, maybe. I was going to handle it; but if you’re the law,” he trailed off, “I don’t like having anyone deal with my problems.”
“You know me; I’ll help you in any way I can. What’s up?”
Mario nodded his head, “You’ll see here in a minute, ‘cause here it comes.”
We all turned to see two men walking down the row of tables. At each they’d stop and talk to who was there; and at a couple, take something from the table before moving on to the next.
“What’s that about?” Danny asked.
“They say it’s to pay for their protection, that they protect the traders here; so they should be paid for their service,” Shelly replied.
Looking at Mario, I asked, “Have you seen any trouble around here?”
“The only trouble we have is them; they want honey.” He turned and looked at the Kawasaki Mule sitting behind him; “and of course they want that.”
“They want candles too; actually, they want everything. They take from everyone around here,” Shelly added.
“Fuck them,” Sarge snorted.
“That’s what I said,” Mario replied. “They haven’t tried too hard yet, only because I’ve got just as many guns as they do.”
I looked at Mario wide-eyed, “They got that many?” And smiled.
Mario smiled in return, “Here anyway.”
The two men approached the table, looking us over as they did. We all moved to make room for them just so we could hear what they had to say.
“Mario, you have ours ready for us?” The taller of the two asked.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told you last time, fuck off.”
“And we told you last time that wasn’t going to work for long,” the man replied. He waved his arm out behind him, “everyone else here pays; you have to too.”
&nb
sp; “And why is that?” I asked.
He looked at me, “This don’t concern you none; mind your own business.”
When Thad was serious his voice took an even deeper baritone, “It is our business.”
“Unless you plan to pay for your honey, do like the man said; fuck off,” Sarge said.
The man looked back at Mario, “Billy’s not going to be happy about this; he wanted those candles. He said to tell you if you gave us any trouble that you’d have to deal with him next time.”
“Billy?” Sarge shouted, “Tall fucker with a beard, black hair?”
The two men stiffened a bit, “Yeah.” He looked at me, then the badge. “You the ones that killed our three men the other day?”
“No; my daughters killed two of them,” I said.
Mario interrupted the conversation, “Look, I’ll give you a peace offering.”
The man looked at Mario, “I knew you’d come around to your senses.”
I looked at Mario, trying to let him know that we had his back. He winked at me in reply. Looking back to the two men, he said, “It’s over here,” and headed towards the Mule.
The two men followed him, and I started to, but Shelly grabbed my arm. I looked at her curiously. She shook her head, so I stopped and watched Mario lead the men to collect their tax. At the Mule Mario reached into the bed and pulled out a box and handed it to one of the men, then a second to the other man.
“That’s honey,” Mario said as he picked up another box. “This one has candles; who wants it?” Mario asked with a smile.
“I’ll take it,” one of them replied.
Mario lifted the two top flaps of the box, quickly gripping the sides, and pitched it at them. The bees had been in the box all morning and weren’t real happy about it. They exploded from the box, covering both of their faces. Mario casually walked away as the men screamed and dropped their boxes, the jars breaking as they hit the ground.
“Oh hell no,” Thad said. “I don’t do bees,” and started to walk away.
Danny was hot on his heels, “Me neither.”
Sarge started to laugh as the two men slapped at the mass of bees on their faces and arms, only encouraging them to sting even more. As soon as the first bee was struck it released the sting here pheromone. Both men screamed and thrashed as they tried to get the stinging insects off them.
Doc and I responded the same, “Holy shit!”
Mario stood back and watched as one of the guys broke out into a run, what I call a blind lateral panic. No clear destination, just a deep need to get the hell away from where he currently was. The other man fell to the ground, his face already beginning to swell.
“Damn Mario, I ain’t never seen anyone use bees as a weapon!” Sarge shouted.
“Yeah, I picked the meanest damn hive I have. I got stung every time I worked the damn thing. It was hell getting them into the box.” He looked at the man writhing on the ground, “but worth it.”
“I guess so; that ole boy sure doesn’t look good,” Sarge said, looking at the man on the ground.
“That guy’s going to be dead in a minute; I believe he’s allergic to bees,” Doc said.
“That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen; I mean damn,” I said, still shocked at what I was seeing.
“Shame that honey was wasted,” Sarge said, pointing to the two boxes.
“Oh, that wasn’t honey,” Mario replied.
“What the hell was in them?” I asked.
“Pig shit,” Mario replied with a smile. “I’m not going to waste honey.”
Mario’s reply set Sarge to laughing again; he slapped his knee and pointed at Mario, “Damn I like your style!”
Just as Doc predicted, the man on the ground slowly stopped struggling. Even after he was motionless the bees continued to sting him, dying in the hundreds. Eventually they began to form a ball in a small oak tree; they’d found their queen.
“You going to get them back, trap the swarm?” I asked.
“Hell no; like I said, they were mean to start with. They served their purpose,” Mario replied.
“That one old boy will probably make it home; they’re going to be really pissed off,” Sarge said.
Now that the remaining bees were making their way to the tree, Thad and Danny walked up.
“We’re going to have to deal with them soon; we can’t leave something like that wandering around out here,” Thad said.
Sarge was still staring at the man on the ground, “We will soon enough.”
Danny and Doc walked down the tables and returned the items taken from folks sitting there. A couple of the people expressed fear, not wanting to take the items back, saying they didn’t want any trouble. Danny would just leave it on their table and walk away if they wouldn’t take it. Doc was looking the people over as he walked. Seeing a group, he stopped and watched them for a minute; turning back, he called Thad and waved him over.
Thad walked over, “What’s up?”
“You said there was a group that came through that looked sick the other day.” He pointed to a group of people sitting on the sidewalk in front of the store, “is that them?”
Thad studied them for a moment, “Yeah, I recognize the guy sitting beside the wagon. He’s the one that came and got water.”
Doc nodded in their direction, “Were those kids with them?”
“They had kids; I can’t say it was those kids.”
Doc walked towards the group; a woman sat wiping the chest of one of the children with a cloth. He stopped a short distance from them, “Hi there.”
The woman looked up but didn’t respond. Doc took a good look at the child. He was small and frail, seven, maybe eight years old, and dirty. The woman went back to mopping at the kid’s chest; and Doc took a good look at the lesion she was wiping. As the woman tended to the open sore, the child coughed and hacked. Doc took a couple of steps back. Everyone in the group had a cough, raspy and angry sounding. Having seen enough, he made way back to the group.
“That’s a problem over there,” he said, pointing at the sad cluster.
“What’s that?” Sarge asked.
Still staring at them, Doc replied, “I can’t be certain, but I think they have a pretty nasty case of TB running through all of them.”
Shocked, I replied, “TB?”
“Can’t be certain without a test, but I’ve seen it before; and it sure as hell looks like it.”
“What can we do for them?” Danny asked.
“Nothing. It takes some serious antibiotics to clear that shit up, especially as advanced as they are. The kid has an open lesion on his chest, probably goes in pretty deep too.”
“Only thing we could do is quarantine ‘em,” Sarge added.
I looked over at him, “How the hell are we going to do that? We’d have to feed them and everything; we can’t do that. Not to mention that taking people against their will is screwed up.”
“They’re going to spread that shit wherever they go; they’re a walking time bomb,” Doc added. Then he looked back at them, “it would be more merciful to just kill them.”
“What?” Danny asked.
Very seriously, Doc looked at him, then at all of us, “Have you ever seen anyone die from this shit?” He looked around again. “Of course not. Here in the US we could handle it when it popped up; but in the rest of the world it’s a killer, and it’s a miserable lingering death.”
“We’ll worry about them later; we got to get to town,” Sarge replied.
Loading up, we headed into Umatilla. It had been a while since I’d come through town, and the profound change was really starting to show. The streets were littered with leaves and limbs. We had to drive around a large limb near the old Ocala National Forest building; it was blocking the
road. In town the parking lot of the Save-A-Lot was littered with trash; it made me wonder where it all came from. The Pizza Hut had been looted to no end; all the windows were busted out, the blinds hanging out and swaying in the breeze. I’m sure the Save-A-Lot was in the same condition; we just couldn’t see inside from the road.
At the intersection of Central Ave and Bulldog Lane is another convenience store; and a McDonald’s sits caddy-corner across the street. This was the new hub of life in Umatilla. This store, just like the one in Altoona was used as a market of sorts. A number of crude stalls filled the area under the canopy, mingling with the gas pumps. The traders there were offering anything they thought someone might want, and a load of crap no one would.
As we passed by, we drew the attention of everyone there. As always, the kids that seemed to be everywhere these days came running out towards the road. From my perch in the turret I got a bird’s-eye view of them as they waved and whistled. For better or worse, the change had returned kids to a time maybe sixty years in the past. Boys ran in groups, many mounted on bikes. Spears, bows and BB guns were nearly universal. The natural state of things was returning.
The adults all stood to watch as we passed, one woman waving. I waved back as we rolled through. Leaving Umatilla, we entered an open stretch of highway, and Sarge sped up. The wind in my face felt nice. I stood up and closed my eyes, enjoying the sense of speed as the wind rushed past. We passed the two grocery stores, their parking lots now empty, those that had been camped there having moved on. They had left their trash strewn about, mountains of it. At this point I dropped back into the turret and shouldered the SAW; this area just didn’t feel very friendly.
Sarge slowed as we approached the barricade of cars just outside Eustis; this time though, it was manned by Guardsmen. The car serving as a gate was pushed aside, and we rolled through without having to come to a stop. The guys and gals at the barricade waved as we passed through; it was nice to see friendly faces. I observed the lakefront as we passed it on the way to the armory. It was crowded with people, each of the little pavilions on the boardwalk along the lake packed with people fishing. It almost looked as though they were each claimed by a family or group of one sort or another. A couple of these small shelters had blankets or tarps hung to block the sun; and I saw smoke coming from more than one of them. Nothing like cooking up a fresh catch.