THE TRASHMAN

by Terry McDonald

  “Stephanie, I need you to carry a very important message for me. Tell the men to load the trucks carrying you and the children with enough food and water to last three days. Tell them I want those trucks moving out of the village by 3:00 this afternoon. Let the men and women know that they have to wait until tomorrow, noon, to leave. If any of them try to leave early, they’ll be shot. Can you remember all that?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m not stupid.”

  “Easy young lady, I wasn’t meaning to insult you. I was asking to be sure. The mothers of the children aren’t going to want to give them up, but—”

  “All the babies were orphaned by the plague and some of them were stolen from women killed by the road patrols. Maybe some of those women love the babies they have, but they aren’t theirs.”

  “I feel better knowing that.”

  “Where are you taking us, mister?”

  “To a place where you can be sixteen again and no one will do to you what those men are doing.”

  “Not just the men doing it, some of the women, too.”

  “Honey, I know you’ve had a hard time, but let’s get this done so you’ll be free. Hurry back to the Village and tell them what I want.”

  “I will.” She went only a few feet and then turned. “Thank you, Ralph.”

  I nodded to her retreating back and watched until she was out of sight. I went to my camp, packed my belongings, and trekked the ridge once more to the point by the southern access to the Village. I was bone tired, my head was throbbing, and the wound in my side was hot and swollen. I knew before this day was over, I’d be past the point of exhaustion.

  *****

  The men and women still alive in the Village went to work right after Stephanie returned. Six pickup trucks of different makes and models were driven to the front of the damaged Recreation center. Other trucks were driven to houses, where often as not, the children in them had to be taken by force from the women’s hands. I felt bad about that, but right or wrong, it wasn’t an option to leave them with a foster parent or parents who went along with the Bradfords ways. In my opinion, they weren’t fit to raise and influence a child.

  The Village beat my three o’clock deadline by fifteen minutes. I waited at the top of the ridge for the trucks to arrive. As the first one topped the ridge, rifle at ready, I stepped into the middle of the road and raised my hand for them to stop. A young girl was in the driver’s seat of the lead truck with another girl holding a toddler in her lap.

  “I need Stephanie,” I shouted.

  I heard a truck door open and saw her come from between two trucks. I kept my eyes on the trucks as she approached.

  “Good job, Stephanie. How many people do we have?”

  “I counted nineteen Village slaves, twenty children under thirteen, and nine teenagers.”

  “Is there anyone in the truck who shouldn’t be?” I asked her.

  “Steve Pitts, Bradford’s nephew. He tried to rape me once, but I fought him off. I told them we didn’t want him, but they were afraid to break your rule. He’s seventeen.

  “I need Steve Pitts,” I shouted.

  A tall, blond-haired boy jumped from the rear of a pickup and sauntered toward me.”

  “What you want?”

  “If you’re old enough to rape, you’re old enough to suffer life with the rest of the garbage down in the valley. Get going, boy.”

  “Fine with me, I didn’t want to come anyway. They made me get on the truck.”

  He turned and strutted away like he was a rooster. I pulled the Beretta and fired a round at his feet. He froze and then turned to look at me.

  “Boy, I want you running down the hill as fast as you can. You slow down and I’ll put a bullet in your back.” I fired at his feet again. “Run boy!”

  He ran. Got fifty feet away and tripped, falling hard and rolling a few dozen feet. I fired another round in his direction and he scrambled to his feet to continue his headlong dash down the hill to rejoin the trash.

  Stephanie said, “You scared the crap out of him. You know those people aren’t going to change, don’t you?”

  “I know. I’ll have to come back and hunt them down.”

  “Where are the rest of your men?”

  “Honey, I’m it. There aren’t any more.”

  In disbelief, she said, “There has to be. The whole town’s blown up and killed.”

  I shrugged. “Just me. Look, we need to get moving. Is everything all right in the trucks?”

  “Other than a bunch of freaked out crying kids, yeah, everything’s alright. I watched them load the food and water. I made sure they all have coats and blankets, stuff you didn’t list. Then I watched who got in the trucks. I was the last one. Oh. I made sure they filled all the trucks with gas, too.”

  “Stephanie, now it’s me thanking you. Good job. Get back in your truck, we’re leaving.”

  I went to the lead truck and had the girl driving climb into the bed and I took the wheel. The chubby teenage girl holding the toddler was crying.

  “Hello, my name is Ralph. What’s yours?”

  “Betty.”

  “Do you know how to drive?”

  “No sir.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  “Mama Claire told me I had to leave and I might never see her again.”

  “I’m sorry, but bad things were happening back there at the Village. She wants you to be safe. Who’s that in your lap?”

  “I don’t know. I think his name is Bobby.”

  Bobby was asleep. I hoped someone in the bunch following us knew his name for sure.

  I leaned out the window and called for Stephanie again.

  In the rear view, I saw her jump from the back of a truck and come running.

  “Do you know how to drive this truck?”

  “Yeah, I made sure they were all automatics.”

  “I’m going to where I hid a jeep. You’ll need to follow me back. Climb in the bed.”

  We came to where the utility line cut intersected the road. I waved for the trucks behind to slow and pulled to a stop.

  “Wait here,” I said to Betty, and went to the first truck. A boy was at the wheel. I told him I was going to pick up another vehicle and to stay where he was.

  I drove the lead truck to where I’d hidden the jeep. It had over a half tank still, but I topped it off with the jerry cans strapped to the back. While I did that, Stephanie turned the truck around and got in position to follow me.

  Back at the convoy I went from truck to truck to give encouragement to the women and children, telling them they were in for a short, bumpy ride, and to hang onto each other so they wouldn’t be thrown out of the beds. I also told the drivers to drive careful on the unpaved rough-cut route under the wires. Except for the second truck, all the drivers were young women. They, like Stephanie, looked used and worn.

  The younger children were inside the cabs of the trucks. There were no infants and I was thankful for that blessing.

  When I returned to the Jeep, Stephanie was in the passenger’s seat. I climbed in and looked at her.

  She said, “I’m your co-pilot. If you’re the only one that’s did the attacking, you have to be tired. You look like you’re dead on your feet. I can help you stay awake.”

  “You’re a pretty wise young lady for your age.”

  “A girl grows up fast at the end of the world as we know it. I can’t believe I used to love reading those kinds of books. Crank it up, Ralph, and let’s get going. While you’re diving, you can tell me all about this utopia we’re headed to.”

  Our conversation was stilted due to the bumpy terrain and having to pay close attention to areas that were severely eroded. When I finished telling her about the Armory, and William and Carl’s hopes to build a society, she called me out.

  “So, you don’t know the situation since you left. Christ, Ralph, they could be dead for all you know.”

  I didn’t like her tone. She was the sort of person who got under your skin and t
hen speaks like she’s known you forever. “There is that possibility; we’ll know when we get there. No matter what, though, we’ll have to find some place to set up. Some place you can defend and scavenge provisions for the short term. That means I’ll be delayed getting back up here to finish my mission.

  “What’s so important about your mission? You’ve already rescued us and the children and killed most of Bradford’s gang. Why are you so fired up to kill the rest?”

  “Stephanie, look at it this way. An evil person knows they are going to kill, rob, or rape. A good person hesitates when meeting people; they don’t have the instinct to victimize. That puts them at a disadvantage and they become victims. Each one of the remaining people back at the village can potentially harm dozens. We can’t allow that. To rebuild a decent society we need the good folks to survive. The only way to insure they do is to protect them. Killing scum like the Bradfords and their ilk saves lives.”

  “Okay, Ralph, but if you enjoy killing them—”

  I interrupted her sentence. “I don’t enjoy killing, but I do get a great sense of satisfaction and fulfillment. Stephanie, let’s put you in this equation. If Steve, the boy who tried to rape you had resisted when I told him to leave, how much would it have bothered you if I shot him?”

  Her reply was delayed while she considered my question.

  Eventually, she said, “Every time a bomb went off, or some of the town’s people were killed, even though we didn’t know if we’d be the next to die, we girls silently cheered. Looking at your question, it would have shocked me, but I would have felt vindicated, satisfied he was dead, same as I felt about all the rapists and killers back there.

  “Ralph, the patrol killed my mother and father. They shot my baby brother and then the four of them took turns on me before they brought me in. After that, it didn’t take the Bradfords long to train me. Beating and starvation saw to that.”

  Stephanie was a child in need of a hug. I sincerely prayed Salvo and his family and the pastor with his flock made it to the Armory. All these children, slave girls included, would benefit from the loving arms of older women.

  “Ralph, next smooth place, we need to stop. All this bouncing made me have to pee.”

  “Five more minutes we’ll be on hardtop. We’ll stop for a break and eat.”

  “I made them feed us before we loaded up… Oh, crap. I forgot toilet paper.”

  The hardtop of the road came up sooner than expected. I turned onto it headed south. When all the trucks were on the road, I stopped the convoy and turned to speak to her.

  “In back, on the floor board, you’ll find a couple of pistols, two rifles and some spare magazines. Do you know how to use a weapon?”

  “I’ve fired a pistol before. I’m sure two of the older girls can, they talked about hunting a few times.”

  “Good. There’re three rolls of paper in my pack. Grab the weapons and toilet paper. I’m going to where the patrol way station used to be and get more toilet paper from the supply shed. Tell everyone to get out and stretch, and take care of needs, but I want you, and whomever you arm, to guard the road in both directions.

  Even though I’d wedged the door to the shed closed, it was open. Rain had blown in wetting the remaining supplies. Most of the TP was on the floor and even the plastic covering didn’t protect it. I found a twelve-roll package of toilet paper on an upper shelf the water hadn’t gotten to.

  I put it in the passenger’s seat of the jeep and loaded the dead guard’s weapons into the rear. Taking advantage of my solitude, I rummaged through the TP on the floor and scored a dry roll. Even though I felt sorry for the ones on the road, I went to the outhouse to take care of my business.

  At the convoy, the women and children were milling around, stretching their legs, and congregating in groups to talk. Stephanie, two of the other women and the boy driving the second trailer, by twos, were separated from the rest at each end of the convoy, holding weapons at ready.

  I pulled my jeep to the head of the line and got out.

  I need everyone up here. You on guard, move closer too, but keep watching.”

  I waited until they had gathered close by.

  “Listen up. We have six trucks. How many of you know how to drive? Raise your hands.”

  I counted thirteen hands. Most were from the slave girls, two were teenaged boys.

  “Good. We’re going to Moultrie, Georgia, to a place of safety. I know some of you younger ones may not understand exactly why you have been taken away from the Village. I’m going to tell you. The people you were living with aided and abetted the Bradford Clan. The Clan and all the adults back at the Village are thieves, rapists, and murderers. We’ll be on the road at least twelve hours. If any of the current drivers are tired, swap now with one who is not. We’ll stop every three hours for short rest breaks.

  *****

  The drive to Moultrie was uneventful except for having to drive off a pack of dogs during one of our rest breaks. We pulled into the Armory parking lot in the early morning before dawn. I waved the convoy to a halt and dismounted the jeep. Carl responded to my knock, the speaker coming to life over my head.

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  I looked up at the camera beside the speaker.

  “It’s me, Ralph. That you, Carl?”

  “I’ll be damned. Yeah, it’s me, but you look like hell.”

  “I feel like hell. I’ve got a bunch of women and children with me, a couple of teenaged boys, and some toddlers.”

  “We’d given you up for dead. I’ll call the Major to let you in.”

  William let me in. Salvo, along with three other men dressed in BDUs were close behind him. I saw Missus Hawkins and Pastor Wells standing together deeper in the reception area.

  The Major pulled me through the door, holding me at arm’s length to examine me.”

  “Christ, you look like you’ve been mauled by a bear.”

  I smiled at that statement. “I was, tell you about it later. Right now, I’ve got a convoy of ladies and children we need to get inside. Some of the children are traumatized. I basically kidnapped them. There’re nineteen young women and girls who were used as slaves. They were sexually abused by the Bradford Clan.”

  “The Bradford Clan, they are all dead, yes?” Salvo asked, pulling me from William to grasp my hand in his. “I pray for you every day, Señor Ralph.”

  “I needed those prayers,” I answered, and turned to include William. “Most of the Bradford Clan is dead. Both of the Bradfords, the leaders, are dead for sure. I need to get back to the Village to hunt out the rest of the bunch, but let’s get my people in first.”

  Pastor Wells stepped forward. Corporal Salvo and I will escort them in. You look like you could use a hot bath and a week’s sleep.” He turned to speak to Missus Hawkins, “Sarah, would you fetch a few of the other women. We’ll need to clean and feed these children of God and get them beds for the night.”

  He and Salvo went out to lead the group inside. William spoke to me.

  “You sent us some good people. Not only Salvo, but the Pastor and his flock as well. You’ll see a few more new faces here. Look, I know you’re looking forward to the bath and bed, but Carl will go ape if you don’t stop by the control room to see him.”

  Carl gave me a once over and then pulled me into a hug. I hugged him back.

  “I see my training paid off. Bruised and battered, but you’re still alive.”

  “Yours, and William’s training saved my life more than once.”

  Carl said, “Salvo joined the Guard. He and a few other men and women are in training. I have a feeling he’s going to be more dangerous than you. I’m sorry to tell you, but Mercedes didn’t survive the plague. The pre-antibiotic treatment works, but it’s not one-hundred percent. He, his son, and Sarah Hawkins recovered, but Mercedes couldn’t fight it off.”

  “That had to hit Salvo hard. He loved her.”

  “It did. That’s the reason he joined the Guard.
He reasons if the banditos weren’t out there, they could have stayed away and she would still be alive. I know the reasoning is faulty, but it gives him a way to deal with her loss.”

  I spoke to William, “You said there are some new faces. Did you mean other than the ones I sent this way?

  “We have twenty-two others, men, women and children. In a way, Salvo was lucky. It is unusual to find an intact family of plague survivors. What’s amazing is the hunger the women who’ve lost their own children express. There’s no child here who isn’t claimed.”

  My exhaustion hit me. “William, Carl, anything else will have to wait until later, my legs are about to fall out from under me. Is my old room still available?”

  “Yes it is,” Carl said.

  “I’m headed for a shower. Could you have someone bring my backpack and the Enfield to my room? A girl named Stephanie will show you where they are.”

  Oh lord, did hot water feel good. I left the duct tape on my forehead so I could really scrub my hair. I couldn’t believe how long it had grown, and marked a haircut as a priority. Scrubbing my body, I discovered numerous bruises and scrapes unnoticed until soap or my fingers touched them. My big concern was still my side. It remained tender and warm to the touch and I could feel pus collecting again.

  Midway through my shower, I heard a knock on the bathroom door. Stephanie spoke to be heard above the water.

  “Don’t come out of the bathroom naked. I’m here with your stuff and Major Allen sent a doctor to look you over.”

  Even though I knew they were waiting, I didn’t rush to finish. The longer I stood under the soothing warmth, the better I felt. All good things come to an end. Shaven, dressed in clean BDUs, I left the bath. Stephanie was sitting on the edge of my bed. A thin, Asian man occupied my only chair.

  “Doctor Chung Van Dung, I prefer Van. And you are the famous Major Olmsted.” He rose to shake hands.

  I shook his hand and shook my head. “Olmsted, yes, famous, no.”

  “Well, I must have been misinformed about you exploits. It seems, to most of the people here, you are something of a hero.”

  Stephanie stood. “Oh, he’s a hero alright, but not because of his war with the Bradfords. Looking back, that bunch was so stupid they may as well had ‘kill me’ tattooed to their foreheads. What makes him a hero is he cares.