by D. Henbane
“What about Georgia?” Amy asks.
“If we can't find them, there is always Georgia.” Haus says.
Haus and Amy spend the bulk of the day walking in the tall grass of the prairie, the craving for clean water always nagging on the back of their minds, and it becomes clear that they can't keep going much further. The last two days have taken a toll on their bodies, dehydrated, starving, and always looking over their shoulders.
They arrive at the top of a small hill, looking out below; they see a shallow valley and a house. The house is surrounded by a fence, with only a single road leading up to the gate entrance. “Look! A house.” Amy says her voice crackly from exhaustion.
“Don't be so sure Amy. It looks fortified. People don't put up fourteen foot high fences to let people in.” Haus says.
“We still need to try. We are going to die one way or another.” Amy says, as she marches down into the valley. They walk along the poorly maintained dirt road towards the house, arriving at the outer fence, and follow it towards the gate.
The gate was made of heavy steel bars, a camera staring down at them, and a sign adorning the top of the gate. “Roca Segura? What is that Spanish?” Haus says. Amy waves in front of the camera, showing her hands, and trying to signal that they are unarmed.
“Hello! We just need some water. Please help us.” Amy yells at the eye of the camera lens. It spins to life, focusing in on them, and a voice comes over the intercom. Leave now. Final warning. I will fire. “Please we just need a little water. We don't want any trouble.” Amy says.
The rocks at their feet explode, followed by the sound of a rifle shot. They start running and are chased by several more rounds, each one hitting the ground, as if the shooter deliberately missed. They ran back over the hill, their hearts racing, until they both collapsed on the side of the road.
***
The gun fire startled Eve, as she ran up the stairs to the guard tower, she opened the door to find Alex ejecting a spent shell from the chamber of his rifle. “What's going on?” Eve demands. Alex calmly closes the bullet proof window, and looks Eve directly in the eye.
“Nothing to worry about Eve. I have everything under control. Just a couple squatters trying to break into the place. Don't worry, those were just warning shots, I missed every time.” Eve looks up to see two figures scrambling up the hill, each at a full sprint until they disappeared on the other side.
“Well since your here, you mind holding down the fort while I get a cup of coffee?” Alex says.
“Yeah, but I am not shooting anybody.” Eve says coldly.
“You don't have to. Use these binoculars and if you spot them again, let me know and I will shoot them for you.” Alex says.
“Does it always have to be violent? Can't we just help people?” Eve asks.
“Eve, you need to abandon that idea completely. It is way too late for helping anyone. I know you think people are fundamentally good, but when they are starving, cold, and scared they become animals. The same person begging for water will slit your throat and take everything you have. It is all about survival, and it is my job to make sure we survive. They are no longer people Eve. Animals... Nothing more than mindless animals. Humans are dead. Society is dead. Laws are dead. The sooner you learn that the better off you will be.” Alex says as he walks away, pausing for a moment as if he wants to say something more, then thinks better of it and closes the door behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
The Falcons Nest
Haus lay, partially incoherent, drifting in and out of unconsciousness. He is unaware but his body had already stopped sweating, the inner core temperature of his body was getting dangerously high, and his mind was unable to alert him of the dire situation he was in. Soon his body makes a cold yet calculated decision, a last ditch attempt at survival, and he passes out.
Amy nudges Haus. “Don't fall asleep... You have to stay awake.” Her own body barely functioning, her muscles were crampy, and fine motors skills were virtually nonexistent. Her brain continues to drift away from reality and she can't help but wonder. “Is this how we are going to die?” Her eyelids fluttering shut, as she struggles to remain awake. She thinks she can hear a sound coming down the road, but her vision is too blurry to decipher illusion from reality.
She turns her head back down towards the house in the valley, and notices a truck driving towards them. “Maybe they are going to help us after all.” She says in her weak voice. The gold colored SUV continues towards her, a trail of dust behind it, as the sun glares off the front windshield. “What if they don't see us...” She wonders out loud, gathering the strength to drag herself into the road. She places her hand down on the grass, pulling her agonizing body forward, each movement growing more painful than the next. She whimpers as her hand lands onto a sharp piece of gravel, normally she would pull her hand back, but with the little energy she had left, the only movement must be forward.
She drags forward again, pulling her exposed knees across the rocks, and as she puts weight on them, more rocks dig into her skin. Her mouth drops open and she exhales quickly, preparing herself for another push. Just as she brings her arm up to move again, the SUV stops in front of her, and a man steps out. “Are you ok?” The man asks.
“My friend...” She points behind her at Haus laying motionless on the ground.
“Is he dead?” The man asks.
“No” She says her voice even weaker than before. “We need water...” and she collapses to the ground. As the darkness envelops her, she can hear feet shuffling around, and a door slam. The gold SUV drives away, with Amy and Haus in the back cargo area.
Get some wet towels on their heads, and you give them some water out of your thermos. Roll down the windows we need air movement to evaporate the water and cool them down.
“Do you suppose they are refugees?
It doesn't look that way. They are wearing civilian clothes and I don't see any markings on them. Except this one with the crappy bar code tattoo. A bad ink job doesn't make you a refugee. Just makes you an idiot for getting it done.
“How about the girl? Search her too?”
“Of course! We need to see if they are infected, check for wounds or bite marks. Especially under her bra, soft tissue seems to break easiest.
“Front looks clear, let's have a look at the back. Well... What do we have here? A little white rabbit tattoo on her butt cheek. Cute. No wounds.”
“That's enough. Get her clothes back on. This is a medical evaluation not a photo shoot. Keep focused boys, we got a job to do here.”
“What job is that?”
“Whatever the hell I tell ya to do! You got a problem with that?”
“No problems, you da boss man. So we take em back to the fort now?”
“I don't think the old lady will take kindly to me bringing a broad home. For my sake they better be a couple, or shit is going to hit the fan. Fred take us back to Festung Der Falke.
“Let's hope Frau Ava is in a good mood sir.”
“I will take care of my wife. Just get us back in one piece.”
***
Haus awoke, his head felt as if it was splitting down the center. He looked up at his new surroundings, alien to him, dimly lit by candles and torches. A large tapestry hung above the bed he was laying on. He turned to look at it, a golden eagle, clutching a black swastika embossed in a wreath. He gazed around the room, seeing many more swastika themed items, when women began to enter his room.
“Oh look he is awake!” One said, as she giggled at his naked body. Another came up behind him with a plate of grapes, lowering the silver dish in front of him.
“I bet you're hungry. Perhaps, you could try some of my forbidden fruit?” She said seductively.
“Back off girls. He hasn't even seen my melons.” Another woman said as she giggled and lifted a tray of musk melon to his nose. “Isn't that the sweetest thing you have ever sniffed before?” She picks up a piece and places it into Haus's mouth. “Just wait til
l you taste it, the juices will drive you mad.” She bites her thumb, waiting for his response.
A man's voice breaks through the air. “Are you the one they call Haus?” A well dressed gentlemen, sits opposite him in a lounge chair. His uniform heavily decorated with a multitude of medals and ribbons. “Wenches, you are dismissed; I need to speak to Mr. Haus alone. Official business, now be gone.”
The women haste-fully leave the room, and to Haus's dismay took the food with them. “I gotta say that was the biggest cock block I have ever seen. Is there a reason you want to see me, and why I couldn't have enjoyed some food first?” Haus asks.
“I anticipated that you would react this way. Do trust me however, that the things we are going to discuss are far more important than whores and fruit.”
“How about a name? Mr. mysterious-cock-blocker. Or should I just call you General Buzzkill?” Haus says.
“My name is Evander Richter. Welcome to our home. I think you should find yourself comfortable here. This is Festung Der Falke, a military installation quite far from where we found you. Excuse me; you most likely don’t speak German. Let me translate. This is Fort Falcon, home to the NASP; The North American Socialist Party.
“We have been watching you for a while Mr. Long.” Haus pauses for a moment to let the words settle into his tingling skull. How long has it been since someone said that name? This seemingly strange man actually knew my real name. What else does he know about me? Haus tosses the questions around silently, the words safe inside his own brain.
“Who the hell are you people?” Haus asks.
“Are you caught off guard by using your real name?” Ricther asks.
“Kinda.” Haus says sullenly.
“So you do not deny it? Like I said before, we have been watching for quite some time, and have learned everything about you. You tried to mask your identity, by using other handles, but you always left a trail to follow. We simply followed it, and connected certain dots together. We assembled this information, not to indict you, rather to enlist your help.”
“What makes you so sure I can help you?” Haus asks.
“We saw what you did for the dirty native, class A work, a bit sloppy, you must have been in a hurry eh?” Richter says inquisitively. He leans forward a little more, a look of disgust partially painting his milky white face. A look more of disappointment, that Haus would ever consider helping one of the filthy races. Richter was however willing to let it slide, as long as Haus could produce for them as well.
“We need someone like you on our side, to further the republic of course.” Richter says.
“The whole system is down, what I used to exploit is offline. SO what could I offer you?” Haus says.
“That is true. Much of it is offline, except what we are after, you and I both know a little power outage would never shut THAT down.” Richter says, his eyes piercing into Haus's gaze, a wrinkle of his brow to emphasize that he knew all too well what THAT was.
“You can bypass it in a heartbeat. You have done it before. The gates are already weakened, we just need a phalanx to march in and take it over. Grant our officers access, and you are free to go. With as many whores as you choose to take along.” Richter shuffled in his seat, straitening his uniform, and retrieving a Ruger side arm from his hip holster. Holding the weapon directly in front of him, his right hand on the grip, his left resting on the back, he slowly flips the safety to the fire position, the clicking sound made Haus's heart skip a beat. Ricther calmly lowers the weapon and places it on the nightstand next to the bed, not even for a moment removing his eyes from Haus's.
His demeanor was cold, merciless, and calculated. Richter had been in many situations like this before, his nerve tempered from many negotiations over the years. Some ended well, others he would never speak of, but in the end the result was the same; a perfect unblemished record of confessions, agreements, and favorable outcomes. If Richter were ever placed in a concert hall, with every soul he snuffed out, it would be standing room only.
“That is the offer Mr. Long. Or do you prefer to be called Haus now?” Richters voice growing impatient in tone, yet was steady, and unforgiving. Richter waited for a few minutes, again his expression never changed, completely fixated onto Haus's eyes. “You are not ready yet. Completely understandable, please do take your time, this is really important. Do you mind if I tell you a story while you... How do you Americans say it? Oh yes! Weigh your options.”
Haus grew increasingly nervous every time Richter spoke. It wasn't the words he spoke, it was the intangibles, there was something about Richter, lurking somewhere under his skin. Something that made Haus shake to his very core. You could not read such a man; nothing about him gave away his agenda, if he even had one. Haus was sure he was after something more than what he could offer.
Richter lifted his index finger and began to speak. “When I was a boy, it was a custom in our little town to send young boys into the wilderness to become men. They started singling us out around age ten. Gathering us up each year around the fall, we stood in front of the town, wearing the hunting outfits that our mothers had made for us.”
“The objective was simple really. The town wanted us to grow up and become strong young men capable of providing for a family. To prove this, involved a test, a testament they called it to our man hood. You were not considered a man until you could go out, for weeks at a time, knee deep in snow, and come back with the bleeding heart of a wolf.”
“The heart itself was just a symbol, a way to prove we had succeeded in a successful hunt, often times the victor came back with the heart of a different animal. It was a partial fraud, but it didn't matter, the adults knew what animal the hearts came from. They never said anything, they just let us live in the moment, knowing that as long as it had a heart; it meant that food had been obtained.”
“My first two hunts were not satisfactory, not because of my own ineptitude, but I didn't fully understand how the game worked. The older kids left me behind with the weaklings, they never even gave me a chance, they just assumed I was too young like the others, and I needed to wait another year to grow stronger.”
“The first time, I killed an elk, and three of the older kids ambushed me, two of them held me down as one of them carved out the heart, leaving me behind to carry the meat back to town, while they claimed the prize. The second time was something really special....”
“I was alone at first. A few weaker kids, had heard about the previous year, and soon clung around me hoping to gain my respect. They knew I could hunt. They knew I had won the year before, and they wanted in on the action. The few of us headed towards a break in the cliff, marching forward until we found a clearing in the trees. None of them had any idea what was waiting for us. For the first time in as long as anyone could remember, there was actually a wolf. We saw it laying down, nursing four pups, seemingly unaware of our presence.”
“I motioned for them to follow me to the back side of some pine trees. We crept in closely, avoiding downed twigs, we moved like an elite group of mercenaries, they followed orders perfectly, and soon we were less than two meters from the wolf. I can still her surprised cries, as the spear thrust into her abdomen. She just like the older kids had underestimated us, and she ultimately paid the price.”
“After the kill we danced, celebrated, and got ready to harvest the heart. The boys had all unanimously voted that I should take the trophy back down to the village. That is, until Joven showed up. Joven, the pride and joy of the village was here to reclaim the biggest price of them all. He pushed and shoved his way into the circle, his arrogance making the others cower away.”
“Joven was the elders son, our up and coming leader, and he was here to take it away from me. To lay claim to a prize, that was meant for me, but he lusted for. As the others cowered like withered dogs under his will, the rage built up inside of me, and pure hatred flowed through my veins. He and his friends had robbed me once, shame on them, rob me twice, shame on me.”
&n
bsp; “My fathers words echoed into my mind. That proverb had been drilled into me from a very early age, and I was not about to let this trophy go. Yes. I stood down, and I let Joven take the heart. He happily carved it out, placed it upon his hands, and rushed down to the village below. The boys looked out at me in pure disbelief, a sense of betrayal wavered among them. I sensed it, and I knew I had to make it right.”
“Not a soul saw what happened next. My boys walked into the village, ashamed, disappointed, and completely let down. What they will remember, is forever etched in their minds, and no matter how much they want to believe otherwise is the complete truth.”
“I walked into the village, a trophy held tight in my grasp, a bleeding heart, and one that I coveted more than anything else. I laid it at the elder's feet, he almost fainted, but his wife didn't fare so well. That was the first time I killed another man, and to be honest with you, the feeling of my first kill has never been satiated.”
Haus fumbled his fingers nervously, a crest of sweat beaded up on his forehead, he knew what kind of man sat before him and he wanted little to do with this negotiation. I have to do whatever he wants. I hate being backed into a corner like this, but what other option do I have? Should I just agree? What about Amy? Will he really let us walk out of here untouched? Can I actually trust the words of a murder obsessed Nazi lunatic?
Richter sat in silence, staring at Haus, but he refused to make eye contact with his captor. Richter knew if he remained silent for a few more moments that he had won the battle of wills. Richter was feeling let down a bit, as he had thought Haus would have been a stronger opponent. Haus being of the divine race and all, it seemed a shame to him that he had crumbled so quickly. A simple story and a cold demeanor had been enough to bend Haus's will to align with his own.
“A car, the girl, and some supplies.” Haus said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.