The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  "John's a weird bird. Considering what he's been through, in England, Japan, China, the Middle East, I suppose he wouldn't have made it as far as he has, if he were a bad judge of people. He's done well, except for a few. Sarah for one."

  Fred shivered, thinking of Sarah's cannibalistic practices. "Maybe you're right. I shouldn't worry."

  "You know who I miss? Cho. She never took any crap from anybody. She would go out there and give Carla hell, in spades. And Elspeth. She was all piss and vinegar."

  "Well, they can't help us now. They aren't alive any more."

  " I know. I'll give it a shot." George shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? I need a break. We've been working on this engine all day. We can finish it off tomorrow and give it a final test then." He laid the wrench on the work table.

  "You can go out there, but it won't be a break. Maybe a breakdown. You'll need some kind of pill or injection from Pierre when you're finished." Fred laughed. "This isn't going to be good. Before it's over, we'll all need a pill or something."

  George looked at Fred for a while, then shook his head and smiled. "Probably." He walked to the back gate, slowly, like a man walking to his own hanging. That could be the truth, knowing Carla's history.

  "Hi Carla. How're they hangin'?"

  "They don't hang, George. They're perky." She glanced toward her chest. Without thinking, George did too. "Where's John?"

  "No idea. Things been quiet all week. Until now. He's been touring around with our new guy, Hans. What do you want?"

  "Same thing as last time. And the time before that. Same thing everybody wants these days. Food. Half of that food you guys took from the Retirement Home belongs to me and I want it. I live a dozen miles north. I don't have any transport. I want you to bring it to me. You owe me that much."

  George rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "Carla, you feculent maggot ..."

  "Developing a vocabulary, George? Giving up your Texas charm?"

  "Ran out of electrical and mechanical books. Picked up a dictionary."

  "I liked you more before."

  "Well, I never liked you. None of us have. We owe you nothing. Not one peanut. We saved your life in return for the food. You couldn't keep that food. Without us, that gang would have taken it and killed you. So, it was never yours. That debt was paid in full by saving your worthless life. We're even. In fact, you left when we were fighting for our lives. Bailed on us, you did. We didn't take the food and leave you. You left us and the food. Like a coward. A scalded dog running off with your tail between your legs. You get nothing. We keep it all. Go away."

  "I'll wait and see what John says."

  He half-turned to leave, then pivoted back toward Carla. "Really? He's not the marshmallow you remember. Much has happened. And, we have a democracy. We vote on things like this or did you forget the night we threw your worthless butts out? You were voted out. Unanimously. At least six people here are still your enemies."

  "That means I can count on six friends, if I remember the numbers, or seven as you said you found a new member. A man. I can usually win over men. So, no problem. I win. You lose. Sorry."

  "If John is your friend, then you have one friend. I doubt that you should count Hans as a friend. He's too smart for you. You'll need something amazing to be allowed to stay and much more to take any food away."

  Carla unbuckled her backpack, pulled out a small box and offered it to George. "Is that amazing enough? More where that came from."

  George stared at the package in amazement. "Bullets. How many more?"

  "Enough."

  "Stay here." George held tight to the bullets, turned and ambled back to the barn. He handed the box to Fred, repeating the conversation with Carla. "How much is this worth? More where these came from, she says. How many? Enough, she says. I don't believe her. She would say anything to save her worthless butt. You know that."

  "Considering our current food situation and our current bullet situation, I'd say it's worth quite a bit. She wants to stay?"

  "No, she didn't say so. She wants us to take a bunch of food back to her place. A dozen miles north."

  "You never know, George. John is the strategist. We need him to decide this. Nobody would vote against him, if he's buying bullets. It just depends on how many bullets she can provide and how much food she believes it's worth. Both sides are in need. The odds are on our side, because she's probably hungry, and we can bluff better."

  "Any idea when John will be back? What should I do? Take her to a cabin?"

  Fred mulled the question over for a while. "No, definitely not. Leave her where she is. Let her stew. We should take a tough approach. Right now she's needy or else she wouldn't be here. If we take her to a cabin or let her into the lodge, then we appear more needy. And once she's in, who knows what kind of havoc she'll cause before John shows up. Let her rot out there."

  "You're right about the havoc."

  George walked to the back gate and told Carla that he didn't have the authority to make a decision. She would have to wait until the whole group was assembled and he didn't know when that would be. She complained and threatened to walk away, but George turned and shuffled back to the barn without looking back.

  "You're right, Fred. I wish I'd kept working on the car. Where's that wrench?"

  * * *

  Two hours later, John and Hans returned in White Warrior Number One. George updated him and was surprised when John started to laugh.

  "Like a bad penny, right? She just keeps turning up."

  "What do we do?"

  "Like you said, we vote. You go out and tell her I'll talk to her after dinner."

  "I thought you always said you would never ask us to do anything you wouldn't do?"

  "I lied."

  Before dinner, everyone was seated around the dining table when John brought up the question of Carla. Several moaned, particularly Masako, saying that Carla was a worthless scumbag and would bring nothing but trouble and they already had enough of that. She said that Carla was owed nothing because she abandoned the group after the explosion. Also, it was never Carla's food. Without the group's help, she would have lost the whole batch and her life as well. George agreed and said he told Carla the same thing. Iris nodded. Marceau was also vocal, saying that she would only agree to giving away a small portion of the food from the retirement home and possibly some of Joe's canned goods and only if Carla would agree to never return. She also said that the deal for bullets had better be strongly in their favor. George and Iris agreed, saying that although they had found few bullets, they hadn't really looked that hard. Hans commented that he had seen only a little ammunition in his scavenging. Binky added that if they needed bullets, he would help. John said they would schedule a bullet finding trip soon. Finally, they agreed that John would go out and negotiate, after dinner.

  The dinner was good, as usual. Marceau had made another pork roast. Dinner was accompanied by little conversation, but with many odd looks between diners and a few whispers. John tried to delay the pain by having three cups of tea and an extra glass of wine. At some point, even the extra beverages were finally finished. John stood up and walked out the back door.

  "Carla, long time no see. No, that's not right. It was only a month or so ago. I didn't expect to see you until cold weather set in." He opened the gate and said, "Come in. We'll discuss this in the great room, where it's more comfortable."

  She and her son, Little John, followed. John reintroduced everyone and introduced Hans, who stood in the corner and only nodded. He introduced Binky, but Binky was too interested in the wine to pay much attention.

  Carla looked at Binky for a minute, as if wondering if she had seen him before, then looked back at John. "We found shelter, but not much food. We scavenged all we could and we still didn't find enough to last through the winter. So, naturally, I thought about all the food I found at the Retirement Home. That's mine. I'll split it with you and only take my half back. That should last us several years."


  John held his hand up to Carla. "Hold on a minute. Before dinner, we discussed this matter and George and Masako pointed out that you wouldn't have a scrap of that food if we hadn't come to your rescue and after that, you abandoned us and the food."

  Carla stepped back, crossed her arms over her chest and stiffened her back. "Now listen here! If I hadn't found that retirement home, and if I hadn't told you about it, you wouldn't have any of that food, either," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "It's not yours any more than it's mine. It used to belong to the people at the retirement home and they are all now dead. So, now it's mine. Finders keepers."

  John stood up and walked to the fireplace, warming his hands and listening to the crackling of the logs. Finally, he turned. "We fought for it. You didn't. We risked our lives. You didn't. We transported it. You didn't. We risked our lives with the people from the Triad. You didn't. Charles and Mary died. You didn't. Fred and I would have died at the Retirement Home if Cho and Marceau hadn't rescued us. You didn't try to help. Not one bit."

  "Isaac and James died for it. Isn't that enough? I lost half of my family. I paid my dues. Cho had nothing to do with it. I want my food!" Carla screamed, her face red.

  Little John ran to the sofa and buried his face in the cushions.

  "Cho saved John's life. That counts in my book. You walked away from it, twice," said Masako. "To have any ownership rights, you must stay and fight for it. We did and you didn't. It's a simple question and the answer is no!"

  "I really don't understand you, John. Why are you involved with these oriental women? That filthy Chink and this Jap whore. My grandfather told me about how his father was tortured by the Japanese during the big war. My father was tortured by the Vietnamese and the Chinese during the Vietnam war. These people are just cowards and you're throwing in with them. I'm the mother of your child, Little John. You should be standing up for me, not these foreign hussies." She lifted her nose high in the air and turned away from Masako.

  Masako glared at Carla, took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. Her face was pink and a blood vessel in her temple was jumping. "Perhaps if your relatives were better fighters, they wouldn't have been captured. Losing apparently runs in your family, loser," she said, calmly.

  John noticed the body language and said, "It's time to put that story to bed, Carla ..."

  "Just like you put me to bed, John? Out in the barn. Or in the upstairs bedroom."

  John sighed heavily. The pettiness of Carla's conversation was too much. "I talked to Isaac when you were here before. He always thought you were infatuated with me and he was really pissed about that. Never got over it. But he said, Little John was born well over a year after our last contact. I'm not the father. When Little John was conceived, I was in Japan. Masako can provide me an alibi for that whole year."

  Masako smiled a sly smile and said, "Yes, his Jap whore was with him every night, you skank." Masako stood up and walked back and forth. "I told John you were nothing but trouble. You'd do anything to con your fat butt back in here. Liar! Scum!"

  "You're both lying. I went to your father's farm. Right here. It was February and really cold. The year John went to Japan. He came home for Valentine's Day recess."

  "No, liar. Not a chance. He was in Japan the whole month. The whole semester. We were in class together every day or otherwise together. We celebrate Valentine's day the opposite of you. The women give the men chocolates. I gave him a chocolate heart. It was our first -- uh -- time together. I remember it quite well," she said smiling at John and blushing. "I know where he was on that Valentines Day and it wasn't with you. He was half a world away. With me."

  "I'm not lying. I was here. I remember it all clearly. And look at Little John. He even looks like John." She patted her son on the head.

  "Maybe, but the only person here was my father," said John. "I called him to tell him about the heart Masako gave me. I thought it was such a strange custom that he would appreciate it. He laughed big and enjoyed it. He never had paying guests in the winter. He would have to clear snow from the driveway and he didn't like doing that. He made enough money during the other seasons that he didn't take guests in the winter."

  Carla stared at John for several minutes and the whole room was quiet. Finally, Masako stood up and walked over to Carla. John wondered if he would need to breakup a fight. He hoped not.

  "You are such a liar, Carla. I vote that you leave and we shoot you at first sight if you ever return. Even when we've proved your lie to be a lie, you refuse to give it up. You have no honor."

  Both George and Iris agreed with Masako. Marceau's and Pierre's opinions were obvious from their crossed arms. Only two members of the group were enjoying the conversation and were smiling. Hans was standing against the dining room wall, near the fireplace, with a big grin and Binky was sitting at the table sipping a glass of wine and smiling.

  John couldn't imagine why Hans found this amusing, but figured that Binky was drunk and trying to become more so. Finally, he had to ask. "What is it, Hans? Why do you find this whole sordid mess so funny? That we are having our own internal war? Such things happen in families."

  "No, mein Herr. I am new here, but I must find this extremely humorous, solely because the answer is so obvious, but none of you sees it. Except the Duke, of course." Hans gave Binky a small salute and a short bow.

  Binky returned the salute and said, "Give them the explanation, Hans. They always become upset when I explain the obvious to them."

  John, Carla, Masako, George and Iris simultaneously said, "What?"

  Hans went to the opposite wall and removed a picture hanging beside the doorway. A picture of John's father and mother. He carried it over to John and held it beside John's face. Everyone gathered around. "The bone structure in John's face is not the same as his father. Ya? It is the same as his mother. It is easy to see. Ya?"

  Everyone looked at the picture and nodded. Then, he took the picture to Little John and held it beside his face. Again, everyone gathered around the boy and looked at the picture and the boy.

  "Damn!" said Carla. "It was your father. I was upset with Isaac and I came here. I picked up a bottle at the store in town and finished it before I arrived."

  "Oh God," said Masako. "Little John is your brother, John." Masako broke out in laughter and fell into a lounge chair on top of Fred." Oops. Sorry Fred," she said, hopping back up.

  "No problem. Take your time. No injury. Any time."

  Masako continued, ignoring Fred's interest, "Hans is right. It is hilarious. You are the biggest liar and the biggest whore in town. You didn't care who you screwed, did you, Carla? You were so interested in hurting Isaac that you grabbed the first man you could find." She turned and faced John, "No offense intended, John. I'm sure your father was a nice man." She sat back in her original chair and kept laughing. "I need another drink." Binky picked up the wine bottle from the table and passed it to her.

  "Not the first man. I'm not like that. The guy at the liquor store came-on to me. I told him to forget it. But that doesn't matter. Not -- any -- more," she said slowly, like she had remembered something important. Carla stopped talking for a second, as if she couldn't think while talking. "Like your Jap whore said, Little John is your half-brother, isn't he, John? And as such, he has a legal right to the lodge. Just as much right as you," she said, looking at John and sticking out her tongue. "So, I can stay -- forever. Forget voting. I own half of this place."

  Masako walked over to Carla and smacked her face. "You liar. You are so jealous. You are just trying to put a wedge between John and me. You'd say anything to steal my life." Masako pulled out Elspeth's giant pistol, The Judge, cocked the hammer with her thumb and pointed it at Carla's heart. "You take your bastard son and leave, now -- or else."

  Carla's eyes doubled in size. Her pupils were almost as big as the opening in the end of the giant gun. Slowly, Carla regained her composure and stood up. Masako followed Carla's movements with the giant revolver. At first, Carla's
voice was just a squeak, but within a few seconds, it returned to her throaty timbre.

  "Or else what? You Jap slut. You don't have the nerve. You Japs are all cowards. Look at Pearl Harbor. Look at Vietnam. All you slant-eyes are the same. A bunch of cowards." In a lightning stroke, like a frog grabbing an insect with its tongue, Carla snatched at the gun in Masako's hand and a giant explosion filled the room.

  "Oh my god. What happened? Did I do that?"

  Carla collapsed onto the floor. Little John ran over, hugged his mother and began to cry. "Momma, Momma. What happened? Are you alright? Talk to me."

  Iris walked over to Carla and grabbed the six-year-old boy, pulling him away as his hands flailed in the air. "Let's go to my place, Little John. I found some toys when I came here. They probably belonged to your brother or half-brother."

  Pierre went to Carla and put two fingers on her neck, then shook his head. "That terrible machine leaves no survivors, my friends. It never does."

  Fred walked over to John, who was looking out the front window, staring blankly off into the dark distance. Fred put his hand on John's shoulder and looked at him with eyebrows raised. The unspoken question was, "What do we do now?"

  "You know, Fred, I saw this turning out much differently than it did. Maybe a bit of wrestling on the floor. Some hair pulling. Screams. Screeches. I thought I'd let it play out. Get the emotion out into the clear light of day, or night. Then, the facts would come out and the whole issue would resolve itself. But, it didn't go that way. I didn't handle that well, did I?"

  Fred laughed nervously and said, "Maybe not, but I'm not upset with the outcome. I don't know that justice was served, but expediency was. And as you know, I'm a practical kind of guy."

  John let out a long slow breath, as if he were counting to ten in his mind. "I'm not much of a leader. I never really pretended to be a leader. It just sort of happened that way. It was my house. I invited you all to come here. I always thought of myself as the host of a long weekend outing in the country. A six month long weekend, as it has turned out. Not the leader of a community. And not the arbiter of disputes, laws and murders."