Farmer's Creed

by Christopher Woods

  “Really?”

  “I’m sorry, didn’t you notice the way Killian was looking at you?”

  “Killian? That huge bald guy who worked the bar?”

  “Then you did notice,” he said with a huge grin.

  I sighed.

  “I think the guy’s in love, Sir.”

  “Shut up, Phil,” I said. “You’re giving me a headache. Why would a sweet girl like Angie want to put up with you?”

  “It’s love, Sir.”

  “Really? You’re doing the ‘sir’ shit, too?” I shook my head. “She’d have to love you to put up with you.”

  “Love conquers all, Boss,” he said. “Now, I know you and Killian can make it work.”

  “The big bald guy?” Jimmy asked as he walked around the corner of the wagon.

  “Yeah, he and Zee are one of those tragic love stories,” Phil answered.

  “Okay,” Jimmy said. “My lack of emotion must be a bigger factor in things than I thought. I thought it was Hiddle.”

  He walked on past us as he continued toward the war wagon, where he had been riding for most of the trip.

  Phil started to say something but just stopped and shook his head. “That would have been a great joke if I didn’t know he was serious.”

  “I miss my brother sometimes,” I said.

  “I’d say you do,” he said. “I miss him, and I never even met him. Jimmy is hell on wheels in a fight, but I keep wanting to tell jokes until he laughs.”

  “He offered to fake it,” I said. “Said he could remember where his old self would’ve laughed. I told him not to worry about it.”

  “Somehow that seems like it would be worse than hearing silence,” he said.

  “I think so,” I said. “I don’t think he should have to fake anything for our benefit.”

  “Agreed.’’

  I heard heavy footsteps from behind us.

  “Have you taste-tested all the tanks, yet, Billy?”

  “Screw you, Sir.”

  I chuckled. “That seems a little harsh.”

  I turned to find him standing with an eyebrow raised.

  “Just checking,” I said. “Sometimes it’s hard to quit drinking when it really gets ahold of you.”

  He sighed. “How long have you known about the thing with siphoning fuel?”

  “What thing?” I asked.

  “Eddie told me you showed him a new way to syphon,’’ he said. ‘‘A way that doesn’t involve drinking diesel.”

  “Oh, that? Eddie just showed me that. He said he’d been saving it for the right moment. I’m not sure what he was talking about. Figured I’d show it to you as soon as I got the chance. Not sure why Eddie didn’t just show it to you.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he said and turned back toward the parked wagons. “Eddie!”

  I chuckled.

  “I used to think you were a nice guy,” Phil said. “He’s gonna kill Eddie.”

  “Eddie’s on his own,” I said. “I don’t want a seven-foot-tall Guynoceros pissed at me. I guarantee Eddie waited until Billy got another mouthful of diesel before he told him.”

  “He probably did.”

  “I have no doubt,” I said.

  “But you could have told him the first time he ended up sucking diesel.”

  “Some lessons are best learned through experience,” I said. “Now let’s get these wagons rolling.”

  “I wonder how the power operation is going,” Phil said.

  “Me, too. We should hear something from them on the radio soon. They were supposed to keep radio silence unless they hit trouble or finished the recon.”

  “Will the antennas carry far enough?”

  “They should. We took them out of the semi Renardi was driving. It was a pretty good setup. It would be nice if we could still use the satellite system.”

  “It would,” he said. “I’ve no idea how we’d go about setting that back up.”

  “Me neither,” I said, “but it sure would be nice.”

  I caught movement from the rear and turned to see Eddie running back along the parking lot for the port with a seven-foot-tall Guynoceros chasing him.

  “Eddie!” the Guynoceros yelled.

  I held my hand up. “Hold off on the order to roll out.”

  Sometimes you just need to stop and watch the show in this Fallen World.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 41

  “There’s movement in that building,” Phil said.

  We were passing what used to be some sort of mixing plant for asphalt.

  “I see ‘em. Stop here.”

  “Really?” he asked. “You know those are probably his guys. They say he has the waterfront all the way from the Port.”

  “Yep.’’

  “All right,” he said and pulled the reins.

  “Be right back,” I said and walked toward the building.

  Jimmy was walking next to me before I even knew he was there.

  “Damn it, Jimmy,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  I motioned toward the building and stopped to wait. I could hear several voices arguing inside for a few moments before they pushed a guy out the front door.

  He was scowling back at the others who watched from the windows, but he turned back to us and walked out into the open nervously.

  “I’m Zebadiah Pratt,” I said. “If you haven’t heard what the Farmers are doing, I can go through the whole spiel, but I think you know exactly who we are.”

  He nodded.

  “Now, we had a little scrap up by the street at the Port. You may have heard some of it. That’s not typically the reception we expect from people we’re trying to feed, but some people don’t understand anything except violence. I’m assuming, since you didn’t charge out of the building with guns blazing, you aren’t one of those.”

  “Be a fool to charge out here with as few men as we have,” he said. “No matter what other people want us to do.”

  “A fellow that can think for himself should be rewarded,” I said. “You and each of the men here will receive our standard, if you care to take a few minutes. We can move on if you’re more interested in what someone else is telling you. And I think the guy who had the guts to step out here after what happened yesterday up the street will receive double.”

  He looked surprised. I think he expected me to gun him down right out here in the parking lot.

  “I’ll go tell the others,” he said.

  I held up a finger and pulled an MRE from the pack on my shoulder. “Take this and tell them it’s thirty of these apiece, and any more will have to be traded for.”

  He took the package and almost ran back inside.

  I suspected they’d watched the fight yesterday.

  The arguing began again after the guy went back inside, but he came back out, followed by the others. They were very careful to keep hands away from the weapons they were carrying.

  Thirty minutes of dispensing script and food, we left twenty-eight very surprised men and women watching as we rolled back up Allegheny.

  “Sometimes I’m just a little confused after you do something,” Phil said.

  “Just want Galloway’s men to know their options.”

  “Crafty bastard.” He nodded. “What if we have to fight those fellas when we get to that casino?”

  “Then we’ll kill them,” I said, “but they should know what their options are. They saw what happened yesterday.”

  “True.”

  The streets were lined with a mix of two- to three-story brick-front buildings and shops, and several newer, larger buildings. As the city had grown over the years, many of the older buildings had been torn down. The Consortium was located in mostly older buildings, but the further south we went, we found many newer buildings. Two years of no upkeep had still taken their toll on the newer buildings, though.

  “Your girl keeps her zone a lot cleaner,” Phil said from the seat of the wagon beside me.


  “She’s not my girl,” I said and stepped a little faster to walk ahead of the wagon.

  “She may have other ideas,” he said and laughed.

  I shook my head and held my hand up to halt the wagons. There was a group of men waiting ahead. That had become the standard as we’d progressed through the city. People heard of us and met us as we entered their zone. People were beginning to gather in the street in front of us behind the initial greeting party, and I smiled as women and children came from a few of the buildings.

  Typically they wouldn’t cause a bunch of trouble if they were bringing their families out to meet us.

  I stopped about five feet from the men.

  “The name is Zebadiah Pratt, and I’m guessing you know why we’re here.”

  “Malcolm Night.” The man who stepped forward was a tall black man in a threadbare suit that had once been very nice. It was worn, but it was clean, as was the clothing of most of the people behind him.

  I grasped his hand as he reached out.

  “We heard a lot of gunfire down the street and didn’t know what to expect,” he said. “There were a lot of Galloway’s men at the Port, and here you come up the street. I’m guessing there aren’t a lot of Galloway’s men there now?”

  “Do you see the smoke?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s the bunch that ambushed us at the Port,” I said.

  “It’s good to see someone can stand up to Galloway, Mister Pratt, but you should know those weren’t his Regulators. He had a bunch of thugs at the Port. His Regulators are down at the Sugarhouse.”

  “I expected as much,” I said. “We’ll deal with that when we get down there. What do you think about setting up along the street right here and getting your people taken care of, Mister Night?”

  “That would be marvelous,” he said. “And it’s Reverend Night, if you don’t mind.”

  “Reverend?” I asked. “A lot of folks lost religion when everything fell.”

  “The Bible said the world was flooded last time it was necessary. It’s no surprise to me that the next one would be fire.”

  “I guess everyone needs to believe in something,” I said. “Even in this Fallen World.”

  He nodded. “Especially in this Fallen World, Mister Pratt.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 42

  There were three zones down Aramingo, and we stopped to do our trading at each one. At the last one, no one came out of the buildings, so we rode on through.

  Jimmy was suddenly at my side as I walked ahead of the wagons.

  I have enhanced hearing, and he still surprises me every time he does that.

  “Damn it, Jimmy,” I said.

  “I was gonna say that,” Phil said from behind us on the seat of the wagon.

  “They’re in place.”

  “Good,” I said. “Have they got a bead on the seven sniper nests?”

  “They’re ready to take out four of them on your order.”

  “What about the others?”

  “They’re taken care of.”

  “What if we don’t have any trouble?”

  “I didn’t kill them. They won’t be interfering, though. They won’t be doing much more than breathing for the next three hours. I’d have done the same to the others, but they were within sight of each other.”

  I nodded. “I guess there’s no time like the present.”

  Our wagons had gone under the I-95 overpass and rolled down Delaware Avenue.

  “Power plant,” I said.

  “No smoke coming from the stacks, so it’s not running,” Phil said.

  “Wonder if there’s any coal?’’

  “Who knows?” He shrugged. “Maybe after we get done next door, we can take a look.”

  “Looks pretty run down,” I said. “Probably doesn’t work anymore, anyway.”

  “It’s abandoned,” Jimmy said. “Sam is on top of the second stack.”

  “That wasn’t one of the vantages,” I said.

  “His previous vantage covered two of the three I disabled. No need for him there.”

  “Good call,” I said. “He can cover the north end of the building from there.”

  “Let’s run the armored wagons into the parking lot, and the regulars stay on the road. If the guards in the front start firing, we want them shooting at the armor.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Phil said and sent hand signals toward the following wagons. “Should we pull the horses as soon as we park?”

  “I think so,” I said. “Get the wagons in position, and release the horses. Take them out to the other wagons, but make it look as innocent as possible. There may be a chance this gets done without a fight.”

  “What are the odds of that?”

  “’Bout the same as the odds used to be to win the lottery before the Fall.’’

  “Which is about the same as it is after,” he said. “Just sayin’.”

  “Bitter, party of one,” I said.

  He laughed. “First time I heard that one. Angie’s going to love it. And yes, I’m a little bitter. Played lottery for years.”

  “Maybe Galloway will let you play some slots.”

  “Bite me.”

  As the Casino came within view, I could pick out the shooters on the roof that had worried me when Jimmy and I had scouted it. I glanced toward the towers to the south of the Sugarhouse, where Sadie was already in place.

  “She have an extraction plan?”

  “She made me disable the access to the roof so no one could interrupt her.”

  “And how is she supposed to get out if this goes badly?” I asked.

  “She’s got that big gun and a couple hundred rounds, Boss,” Phil said. ‘‘I’m not sure if she’s worried about extraction. She makes me a little nervous.”

  “How did the world get to the point where we need to have a seventeen-year-old girl sitting on top of a building with a sniper rifle?”

  “People are shit, Boss,” he said. “In a world where the strong survive, a lot of the survivors are just that. Strong. Strength doesn’t make you a better person, and a lot of good people aren’t strong enough to do what needs doing nowadays.”

  He pointed back over his shoulder with a thumb. “Ten or so blocks back that way is a group of people that are pretty good people. Right in front of us is a guy who deserted from the Navy, took everyone he could get, and enslaved them. He sold them to others with the same lack of morals. In a just world, the ones to the north might have stamped these guys out, but the world is unjust, and these have more men and more guns. What do good people do then?”

  “They barricade themselves inside an area and try their best to defend it,” I said.

  “They don’t have a Pratt family to drag them out of there, and the Farms did. That’s the difference. They didn’t have two fifty caliber machine guns in the barn. God only knows why your father had those.”

  “Pop loves guns,” I said.

  “Then you found the bunker, and because your family are who they are, you’re out here trying to save a city. How long do you think the Consortium would last if we hadn’t shown up?”

  “My guess would be not much longer. Those guys at the Port were way too close for comfort.”

  “I agree,” he said. “Now we have to remove a threat to the whole riverfront, and we have a seventeen-year-old sniper who scares the shit out of me on a building.”

  “She’s a sweet girl.’’

  “Jesus, man.” He shook his head. “She took a sniper rifle and several hundred rounds, then barricaded herself up there with the intention of killing four men and anyone who tries to get to her.”

  “Yep.’’

  “Sweet?”

  “She pets the chickens, Phil,” I said. ‘‘They all have names, and she plays with them as she feeds them.”

  “Probably just checking which ones would be more tender when she eats them,” he muttered.

  “She doesn’t eat the chickens,” I said. “She’ll eat th
e hell out of beef, though. Said cows are evil.”

  He sighed.

  “What?”

  “Now I’m scared to eat the chickens,” he said. “Why’d you have to tell me that?”

  “A little fear is good for the soul.”

  “Again I say, bite me.”

  I knew Phil was joking about the girl, but he wasn’t completely wrong in his assessment of her. Snipers tend to be loners, and they make others nervous. A sniper has power over others because of the distance involved. They normally wouldn’t be the sort who would make the valiant last stand like our girl was prepared to do. As I thought of how hard it would be to get to her, I smiled. If they went after Sadie Owens, there would be as many dead bodies as she had bullets before they ever reached her.

  The wagons rolled to a stop in the parking lot as the others split to stay on the road.

  “Alright, Jimmy, get ready to do that thing you do.”

  He nodded and stood, patiently waiting for the moment he would need to attack. Everyone overlooked Jimmy because he was so quiet. He just moved silently through life most of the time. Then he would need to attack, and it was like flipping a switch. He operated at maximum levels when he fought; whether it was two or two thousand, Jimmy would be moving as fast as his augmented body would allow. It was disconcerting for someone to watch. I knew from the times I’d been one of the spectators as he did the amazing things he could do. Now I don’t see his actions as much because of the gift he gave me. I’m doing some of the things he can do myself now.

  I stepped forward with my brother at my side toward the front doors of the Sugarhouse Casino. It was time to pick a fight.

  Sometimes you need to kick the hornet’s nest in this Fallen World.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 43

  Surprisingly, the glass in the front of the casino was still intact. Two guards stood at each side of them. They carried automatic weapons similar to the ones our forces carried. Many of the same weapons were carried by Obsidian and Teledyne forces alike. I remembered the op I’d done over in the Russian Territories while serving. Both forces used weapons made in the area. The Corporate Wars were fought so much differently than any of the wars that had been backed by the governments of various countries.