Torch Song: A Kickass Heroine, A Post-Apocalyptic World: Book One Of The Blackjack Trilogy

by Shelley Singer

  “Rocky is looking for people to settle and raise children and build families and towns. We have the money to pay you to have children, pay for their education, their food, their family homes.” Worse and worse.

  “We have the money, the land, the will, the drive, and the government to take care of you for the rest of your lives!” Nobody had that much money. I wondered what the new citizens would have to do to pay the government back.

  The crowd had grown. A couple of dozen people were listening intently and more were drifting up to the table, some of them looking hypnotized, their mouths dropping open whenever he shouted “money!”

  A street show where the actors were both selling and buying. Selling an idea. Buying people for the great land of Rocky. It looked like a few Sierrans were seriously considering selling themselves.

  But that wasn’t the worst of it.

  Several more of the khaki-clads jumped up onto the stage— how many would it hold? One of them was carrying something white. He wrapped it around his shoulders. A robe of sorts. Uh-oh. He aimed a fierce eye at first one and then another member of the audience, roaring in a thunderous baritone that “Rocky is where God lives! Come to the light!” I felt a shiver up my spine. Soldiers, breeders and godders— together? Not good. I was surprised that the weight of their self-righteousness alone didn’t collapse the stage.

  A sheriff’s car pulled up alongside the floaters. Frank. He got out of his car and sauntered around it to the platform. The robed godder, his white holiness floating around his military khaki, jumped down to meet him, smiling. Frank wasn’t smiling. They talked for a moment, Frank went back to his car, sat with his legs sticking out the open door, and pulled out a sys. He called someone. Nodding, shaking his head, looking confused, doubtful. Nodding again, shrugging. What was that about? Who had he called? Then he sat for a moment, watching the recruiters, before he called someone else. During all this, the Rockies were cheerfully waving contracts around and chatting up the citizens, several of whom were signing on. Most of the others, though, had stepped back again, eyeing Frank, waiting to see what happened.

  A few minutes later, Frank’s deputy, Marty, showed up with a closed truck. They both drew their guns. Frank approached the recruiters and barked some orders. They didn’t move. Their odds were good at a dozen to two. I was on the edge of helping, my door half open. I’d rather liked the deputy’s style when she’d arrested the drunk driver. And these people made my flesh crawl.

  Then one of the khakis pulled a laser pistol from inside his shirt. He didn’t have a chance to use it. The deputy shot him first. After that— maybe none of the others had weapons— they lined up and let the two cops pat them down. No, no more weapons. Frank and his helper began herding the Rockies into the back of the truck.

  * * *

  Jo was thinking about the spy report she’d gotten the night before. The Scorsi brats had gone to the tree where the mayor had been hung, done a lot of laughing, and messed with a piece of rope which they stuck under a nearby bush. Was the threat to Hannah just a game or were the boys rehearsing and preparing for her murder? She sent a message, telling Hannah what her man had seen.

  She’d just stuck her sys in her pocket when it began to vibrate.

  “Jo, this is Frank.”

  “Yes, Frank?” As if she wouldn’t recognize that voice, oily and gravelly all at the same time. Like wet rocks.

  He told her a team of Rockies was running a recruitment on Stateline. “For people who’ll go there and have babies or some damned thing. They’re paying them to go. Khakis, but they’ve got godders with them. Thought I’d check with you, let you know I’m about to roust them.”

  Jo wondered if this was the mixed group that had caused the ruckus at the border a few days ago. Supposedly, that bunch had been turned back, but they could have found another way in. And there was also the gang of godders someone had seen more recently. These recruiters could be any or all of those. Too damned many Rockies. But she didn’t want them hustled out of town so quickly.

  She thought for no more than a few seconds. “No. Arrest them. Call your deputy and take them in.”

  “Huh? What charge?”

  “I don’t know. Slavery. Baby-buying. Terrorism. And after you lock them up, tell Iggy Santos that you’ve arrested a band of Rocky spies and recruiters and you’re questioning them. Tell him you’ll have more information by his Friday deadline.”

  “What questions should I ask them?”

  “I don’t care. What’s their favorite color? Hold them for a couple of days, I’ll write out what you should tell Santos then. He can blog it if he wants to try, but that won’t reach enough people. Needs to be in the paper, too. I want everyone to know about this.”

  This was perfect. Rocky crossing the border into Sierra, coming right into their town, offering a dubious deal— they were here to buy people! And godders in the group. This was a first, all the way around. She laughed. Judith was going to love it.

  She pulled out her office sys and began to compose what the sheriff would tell Iggy.

  “The spies from Rockymountain admitted they were here to recruit or kidnap citizens of Sierra and to gather information for a future military invasion that would include terrorist acts by godders…” Maybe not strictly true, but true enough at its core. Godders with military connections would kill people.

  The problem was, what should they do with them? She couldn’t just kill them outright. Even Samm might balk at slaughter and it wouldn’t look good if someone found out. She couldn’t keep them jailed or execute them as spies without a trial. She knew things like that happened in other countries, but not in Sierra. And a trial without proof would blunt the drama, cast doubt, and drag on until after the election.

  She added another line. “They were deported on Friday, escorted to the border and told to take a message back to Rocky: Sierra is strong, alert, and ready to defend itself.”

  Her sys vibrated again. It was Frank.

  “One of them, a khaki godder, he pulled a gun and we killed him!”

  Even better. “Tell Santos a godder terrorist was killed trying to shoot you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The nerve of those people

  Drew was getting antsy. School had been out for twenty minutes. He was waiting in the copse behind The Winner’s Tavern, just like they’d decided. Neutral territory, pretty much on Billy’s way home but far enough from both Scorsi’s Luck and the school. The place could always be relied on for loud music, and its patrons tended to be both noisy and oblivious. He was standing behind a fir tree. His nerves were going right to his bladder, but he was sure the minute he opened his pants they’d show up. He did it anyway. They didn’t show up.

  Where was she? Maybe Billy was smarter than they thought and had figured out Lizzie couldn’t possibly want anything from him he’d want to give her, no matter how she acted. The whole idea was nauseating anyway. His sister, wiggling and jiggling for Billy. He felt his face flush, then, and like a nasty little burr, a thought of Rica and Jo stabbed at him. He’d felt like a real asshole for doing it, but he’d followed them, seen them kissing. He hadn’t watched the whole thing, just the start. He both did and did not want to see more and he was afraid if he stood there longer, they’d spot him. He had dashed back into the casino, his stomach burning, his groin alive, his mind spinning in anger and misery. The memory today brought back both the pain in his gut and the arousal. He bit his lip, willing it all away, out of his mind and his body.

  Then he heard voices, one of them Lizzie’s.

  “Ky? I don’t think so, Billy. It’s pretty obvious you’re the real leader. You knew when to end that fight the other day.” Was Billy really dumb enough to swallow this crap? Just a couple of days ago, she’d kicked him in the balls. Now she was drooling all over him. But yeah, Billy was dumb enough, and horny enough, to believe anything she said.

  “Well, Ky’s mumble mumble mumble…”

  She giggled. He couldn’t believ
e he was hearing his sister giggle. “Come on, I think it’s kind of exciting that our folks wouldn’t like… Like Romeo and Juliet or something…”

  Billy snorted. Just as he strutted past the fir tree, Drew slung his arm around the boy’s neck and pulled him backwards behind the tree, deeper into the copse. Yelling as loud as he could with Drew’s forearm choking him, fighting with both hands and both feet, Billy was spitting and growling like a feral orange tomcat. Drew didn’t let go. The heavy beat of the music from inside the tavern bounced off the trees. Drew swore he could see the leaves shaking.

  Lizzie punched Billy in his puffy stomach. He grunted and tears shot from his eyes. He sagged, but Drew held tight, knowing Billy could start up again any time.

  Lizzie waved her fist under Billy’s nose and spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the yells and shrieks and drumbeats coming from the tavern. “Okay, what’s the story, scroop? A couple days ago you were going to get Hannah Karlow. Now you’re not. What’s going on? You better talk. Now.”

  “We’ll make you guys pay for this. Lizzie, you’re gonna be really sorry. You’re gonna put out for all of us when—” He strained forward.

  Blam! Her fist hit his nose and blood gushed. He screamed and sagged again.

  “Easy, Liz.” Drew didn’t want them to use up all their best stuff, certainly didn’t want the disgusting little shit to pass out. “Just tell us, Billy. What changed your mind?”

  “Nothing changed anything.” He was mumbling, barely opening his mouth. It must have hurt to move any part of his face. “I was just kidding around, before. About the killing.”

  Lizzie hit him in the ear. His head snapped to the side. “You’re lying.”

  He glared at her, coughed, and whimpered, “You’ll never hear it from me.”

  “Hear what!” Lizzie roared, raising her fist again.

  “Not talking.” He clamped his lips shut. Drew was surprised. He never would have thought the freckled freak could hold out this well. How much more did he have in him?

  Lizzie punched him in the stomach again, hard, and his lunch spilled out of his mouth. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with the blood and snot from his nose. Sickening. Drew didn’t like it. He was glad his fist wasn’t smashing into that ugly mess. Lizzie didn’t seem to mind.

  “No one will ever know who told us,” Drew said.

  Billy spat on the ground and mumbled, “Fuck you.” Lizzie’s fist hit him squarely in the teeth.

  “Damn! Ouch!” she yelled, shaking her hand. The knuckles were bleeding. “I don’t want to keep hurting you, Billy. I don’t want to do anything worse than what I’ve done so far. But I swear I’ll cut off your balls if you don’t tell us.” Drew was shocked. His little sister. Not so little any more. Was she actually carrying a knife? He hoped not. No. He didn’t believe her.

  But Billy did. Finally, he gave it up, crying. Terrified. A 17-year-old kid, not a brave soldier. Drew had to wonder how long he himself would have lasted under Lizzie’s torture.

  “You think you know so much? You don’t know nothin’. We were going to kill her because we thought she works for you guys and we don’t want no fuckin’ Blackjack Coleman mayor. But Newt heard about it and stopped us. She really works for us. When we found that out, it made everything different.”

  As bad as this was, Drew couldn’t squelch that “I told you so” feeling. He couldn’t wait to tell his mother he’d been right. He didn’t like Hannah. And she was a spy. In their army, in their family. Lizzie’s face was red with rage.

  He released Billy’s neck and Billy ran.

  Lizzie swung around, snarling, “What’d you do that for, Drew!”

  “Because he told us.”

  “But now he’s going to warn Hannah.”

  “I doubt it. To do that, he’d have to admit that he caved. He won’t want to.”

  Lizzie was sucking on a tooth-gashed knuckle. She spat and nodded. “You’re smart, Drew. Smart as Mom.”

  That made him feel good. He wasn’t completely happy that they’d made a mess out of Billy, but the results were worth it. And he did feel smart. At the same time, he wasn’t sure Billy really would be afraid to confess he’d outed Hannah. He thought— hoped— he wouldn’t have the guts, but he’d only pretended to be sure of it to make Lizzie feel better about letting Billy go.

  What else could they have done, anyway? What was Lizzie planning on doing to keep him from talking? He didn’t want to know.

  “Thanks. We’d better get home and let everyone know.”

  * * *

  Jo and Judith had been sitting in Judith’s office for the past hour discussing the Rocky issue and considering their political options.

  Frank had already told Iggy Santos that the spies were in jail and being questioned, but of course, everyone knew that. And everyone would be waiting to hear what the Rockies had to say. Iggy stood ready to blog and email to those who had the means to receive, and to put the newspaper out, as well, the day Frank escorted them to the border. Judith had agreed that they needed to avoid a trial. They could not kill them in town and it would be almost as obvious to arrange an “accident” en route. The double dose of propaganda the incident was creating was well worth any minor threat this particular bunch of causies might pose. To Rocky: take your recruiters back and shove them. To the citizens of Sierra: Rocky’s out to get us.

  The candidate issue was not quite as complicated but harder to resolve.

  Jo was putting together a list of contests and candidates and once again was all too aware that she needed more people who were both trustworthy and free of other essential duties. There was that old saw: need something done, ask a busy person. But there were limits to the practicality of that.

  “Up for election, Mayor and Cabinet, some seats on the Sierra Council.”

  Judith nodded, staring into the depths of a snow globe, tapping it and watching the white stuff lift and fall on the petals of the single red rose. Jo found that snow globe disorienting. She always expected to see the rose freeze and shrivel.

  She continued. “We’ve got Hannah Karlow. That takes care of the mayor. I’ve talked to Zack about the cabinet. He’s smart and loyal. I’d really like to send him to the council but Samm says he needs him as a lieutenant. He doesn’t want to lose him even the one or two days a week the council meets in Hangtown. Monte— he’d be solid on the Council.” Judith nodded again, jotting a note, probably something about who could help out or even be promoted to Monte’s head cashier job. “And have you thought any more about Drew?”

  There were three open seats on the seven-seat council. The cabinet would pretty much belong to whoever was elected mayor, as always.

  They’d discussed Drew as a possibility for the cabinet or the council, but they hadn’t said anything to him yet. He had a full schedule already and she wasn’t sure what part of it could be sacrificed. He was working in the restaurant and was about to learn bartending and poker and blackjack dealing. Samm said he was a good soldier, but Jo saw him as something more. He had a quiet about him, a depth. He thought about government and history and he had his doubts about Jo and Judith’s vision of the future. Jo liked his questioning. When he came to agree with her, and she was convinced that he would, he’d be a very strong leader. The only drawback was his extreme youth; he’d be easier to appoint to the local cabinet than he would be to elect to the regional council.

  “I have. Let’s talk to him. About the cabinet.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. But we still need to run someone for those council seats.” Of the four members who were not up for re-election, one was clearly in Newt’s camp, two solidly in Jo’s, one stubbornly pretending there were no sides. If she could elect two more she would control the council with four reliable votes out of seven, no matter who won the third vacant seat.

  “I think it may be time,” Judith said, “for us to consider moving actively, openly, into the hierarchy. I think I should run.”

  Jo choked back her first
shocked reaction, taking a moment to think. Judith would make a terrific candidate, with her obvious leadership and presence. And no one had so far tried to kill any council members. But there was no guarantee the job would stay safe, especially if the Colemans had a majority. Jo would rather take a chance on her own life than Judith’s. The thought of losing Judith made her feel weak and sick. She wasn’t sure she could keep going. And what about Drew and Lizzie?

  Judith was watching her. She laughed. “Nobody’s going to kill me, Jo.”

  “What makes you so sure? Maybe it would be better if I ran. If we can’t find anyone else,” she added quickly. “It wouldn’t keep me away from Tahoe that much. And it’s not even a two-hour ride if you need me.”

  Judith tapped that damned rose snow globe again. She sighed. “I’d prefer to keep us both out of it, but I don’t think that’s possible. I’m the logical choice for now. I just don’t see you as a legislator. You do better behind the scenes, planning and plotting.”

  That was true. If Jo was going to run for anything, it would be mayor. She knew she’d find the slow negotiating and wheedling and blather of the council irritating. She wanted a job where she would just tell people what to do and they’d do it.

  Jo shook her head. “Maybe we do need to be more public. But I don’t like it the idea of having you up there as a target.”

  “That’s sweet, Jo.” Jo gave her a look that a few decades before would have been incomplete without a protruding tongue. “But who else would you suggest? Samm doesn’t have the temperament for politics.”

  “Oh, my god, no!” They both laughed this time. “As a tribal chief, maybe…”

  “So we’ve got Monte to run for council, and me. We need one more to cover all three seats. Let’s sleep on it for a night. Someone will come to mind.” They couldn’t sleep on it any longer than that; they wanted to hold some kind of rally to coincide with the spy revelation, so they could get people revved up over that and connect the threat with the ability of the Coleman candidates to deal with the threat.