by Jessy Cruise
"You say you came from Auburn," he asked them. "Is that correct?"
"Yes," Anna, the apparent spokeswoman for the duo, replied. "I lived in Auburn before the comet. Jean is from Meadow Vista."
"Meadow Vista huh?" Skip said, turning to the younger woman. "We flew over that in the helicopter once. We saw bodies down on the ground everywhere."
"The militia attacked it," Jean said in a quiet voice.
"The militia?"
Jean opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by Anna. "Don't tell them anything, Jean," she said. "Not until they agree to give us sanctuary."
"We've already agreed to do that," Skip said, unoffended by the interruption. "Even without your information, we more than likely would have allowed you to stay. As long as you don't prove to be dangerous or spies or anything like that, you're in."
"Really?" Jean said, beaming.
Anna was a little more cynical however. "How do we know that you're telling us the truth?" she asked shrewdly. "How do we know that you're not just telling us what we want to hear to get our information from us?"
Skip smiled a little. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "the truth of the Micker is, that you don't. I have no way to prove to you that I'm sincere. No way at all. I could put it in writing for you if you want, but what good would that do? We seem to be a little short on courts and lawyers to enforce verbal or written contracts now, don't we?"
"Yeah," Anna said. "I guess we are, aren't we?"
"All we have is our word," Skip said. "It might not mean much, but it's all we got. I promise you that as long as we don't discover some fact that indicates you are a danger to us, we will let you stay. We have enough food to feed two additional mouths. We have enough houses to house two more. We have enough clothing to keep you dressed warmly. And we most certainly have enough work that needs to be done to appreciate two more sets of hands to do it with. So what do you say? Shall we talk or what?"
Anna still seemed a little doubtful.
"Look," Skip told her, leaning forward and softening his voice a bit. "I was in your shoes not too terribly long before. I led Christine and her brother through the woods after the comet fell just trying to get us all to some place resembling safety. I found this town and they were keeping out all outsiders at that point. I snuck across the bridge one night just to prove to them that I had something valuable to offer them - namely, my knowledge of security and military tactics. I've sat in that same position that you are now sitting and I've wondered and obsessed about the same things. I don't know how I can assure you that you're all right, but you are."
Anna sighed, uncertain about how to feel but pressing on anyway. "All right," she said. "I guess we'll have to take you at your word, won't we? What other choice do we have?"
"I don't know," Skip said, leaning back a little once again. "What choice do you have?"
"None at all," she told him. "None at all. Let's talk."
"Right," Skip said with a smile. "Let's talk."
They talked. For more than two hours they talked. Jean and Anna told their story in semi-chronological order, starting with the comet fall and their pre-comet lives and working through their eventual escape from the town that had become a fascist prison camp. They told about the militia and its early missions to conquer and loot the surrounding towns. They told of how the men in these towns were then incorporated into the militia and the women were then utilized as slaves, both for sexual and work purposes. Skip moved them along from point to point, place to place with his questions. Occasionally, very occasionally, Paul or Christine would toss in a question as well, unable to help but ask for some point to be clarified in the horrible tale they were being told. Skip was simply amazed at the quality of the information that Jean and Anna possessed. Had these men that ran Auburn really been so dumb as to talk freely of these things in front of the women and assume that they weren't absorbing any of it? Did it never occur to them what a potentially catastrophic information drain that represented? Apparently not.
"So let me get this straight," Skip said after the descriptions of women's rights in Auburn, such as they were. "You're not allowed to carry a weapon or participate in any sort of military training?"
"That's right," Anna confirmed. "And the men are not allowed to do any sort of cooking or cleaning chores - except for their weapons of course."
"They love to play with their weapons," Jean said with a hateful smirk.
"What an incredible waste of manpower," Skip said as he pondered this. "The population of Auburn is around three thousand, right?"
"Right," she replied, reiterating the answer to one of the first questions asked in the interview.
"And of that number, more than 2200 are women?"
"Yes."
"Jesus," Skip said, shaking his head. "In a way we're kind of lucky that they're doing things this way. Can you imagine how formidable of an army they'd have if they trained up the women like we do? They'd outnumber us by more than twenty to one."
As shocking as the tales of life in Auburn were, more shocking was the plans that the Auburn militia had for Garden Hill. This portion of the talk took up the most time.
"So they were watching us when we were attacked by those assholes the first time, is that what you're saying?" Skip asked.
"From one of the hills overlooking town," Anna confirmed. "There was just a single platoon of forty men that had been sent out to observe your town. Bracken was in charge of this mission, as he has been all of the follow-up missions."
"And Bracken is the man that used to... that you were..." Christine said, unable to think of a delicate way to put their former situation into words.
Jean had no problem. "The man who used to rape us," she said bitterly. "He of the small dick and the big head."
"Uh... right," Christine said.
"So anyway," Skip said, steering the interview back on track, "this Bracken was camped out on one of the hills?"
"Right," Anna said, nodding. "He found that your defenses were pretty uh... weak I guess you would say. He was impressed by the way you handled the attack once it started but he was disgusted by the fact that it happened in the first place."
"Thank you, Jessica," Paul said sourly.
"That's kind of what we found out once she was brought back to town," Jean said.
"So what happened," Anna went on, "is that Bracken came back and made plans to take your town. Barnes gave him command of an entire company of one hundred and sixty men and off they marched."
"One hundred and sixty men?" Skip said with a shudder.
"But that was before he knew about your new defenses or your helicopter," Anna said. "They ran into Jessica about three quarters of the way to town and were able to get that information from her. She told them about your bunkers on the hills and about your training programs and about your helicopter. Bracken decided that he needed more men to make the attack and turned everyone around."
"He aborted the mission?" Skip asked in disbelief.
"He said that your defenses would've murdered them if they had walked in without knowing about them," Jean said.
"And even once he did know about them he still decided not to press the attack?"
"Right," said Anna. "He thought that he probably would've taken the town..."
"Goddamn right he would've," Skip said, envisioning trying to fight off that many men.
"But he also thought that he would've taken too many casualties doing it. The helicopter seemed to be the deciding factor. He was afraid that you would use it to direct the battle from the air and to harass the troops on the ground."
"Which I would have," Skip said. "But I still don't understand why he didn't press onward. Sure, casualties would've been a little higher on their side, but they would've won. No doubt about it."
"That's the thing," Anna said. "The doctrine of the militia is not to take casualties. That will probably change in the future as more people are added to it, but Barnes knows that he doesn't have an unlimited supply of m
en right now. Since there is no one to replace the dead and wounded, they rely instead on overwhelming force to win their battles."
"Hmmmm," Skip said, thinking that this made quite a bit of sense, and was something that could also be potentially exploited. "So what happened once he got back?"
"Once he got back," she said, "he managed to talk Barnes into authorizing a new attack. This was an attack that they were still planning and exercising for when we got away."
"How many men?" Skip asked, afraid to hear the answer.
"Four hundred," Anna said almost apologetically.
There was a stunned silence around the table as this number worked its way into everyone's brain.
"Four hundred?" Skip said incredulously. "But that's almost the entire male population of Auburn!"
"It will leave only forty-five men in town," Anna confirmed. "Barnes stipulated that those left would be the most experienced and that most of the automatic weapons would stay with them. Bracken agreed to this since it went along with the brute force doctrine."
"Holy Jesus," Paul said, actually trembling at the thought.
"Skip," Christine said fearfully, "we can't fight off that many people!"
"This is bad," Skip was forced to agree. "But let's sift through this all the way before we start coming to any rash decisions, shall we?"
"But..." Christine started.
"We still have some time," he said before she could go any further. "Like I said, let's sift through this." He turned back to Anna. "Do you know when they were planning to make this attack? Are they already on their way here now?"
"They were planning to leave January 7," she said. "There's a good chance that our escape might've delayed that for a few days however. They would've used a good chunk of the troops to look for us."
"January 7?" Paul said, his eyes widening. "That's tomorrow! How long will it take them to get here once they head off?"
"About ten days," Anna said, "maybe a little more. We got here in only seven days but we were moving as fast as we could physically go. They'll just be ambling along to conserve their energy."
"So we're going to have four hundred armed men coming down on us in less than two weeks?" Paul said, approaching the point of panic.
"Calm down," Skip said, his voice soft and soothing.
"Calm down? How can I calm down when we're two weeks away from having our..."
"You're looking at it the wrong way," Skip interrupted.
"What?"
"You're being a glass half-empty kind of guy," Skip told him. "Let's try to be glass half-full people instead. Instead of saying that we only have two weeks, let's say that we've been blessed with two weeks of warning."
"What the hell difference does that make?"
"Maybe none," Skip admitted. "But maybe everything. If not for these two young ladies here, we would've been hit pretty much by surprise. Now we have enough time to sit and calmly decide what, if anything, there is to be done about this."
"What can be done?" Paul asked. "You're not telling me that you think we can fight off four hundred men, are you?"
"I'm not telling you anything just yet," he said. "All of the information is not in at this time. Why don't we finish the debriefing and then we'll start discussing what is to be done?"
This served to calm Paul down a little bit. "All right," he said, taking a few deep breaths. "Why don't we do that?"
Skip turned back towards Anna and Jean. "What do you know about their attack plans?" he asked them. "Did they discuss that in front of you as well?"
Anna smiled. "They talked about everything in front of us," she said. "Barnes is the mastermind of the attack plan. He intends to divide the four hundred men into three companies of one hundred and twenty men apiece and one reserve platoon of forty. He will be overall commander and will direct the three main companies to attack from three different directions simultaneously. The reserve platoon will be used to fill any holes that develop. The plan is to quickly overwhelm your defenses and get inside the perimeter before you have a chance to rally. He has high hopes that he can get to your community center before the helicopter even has a chance to lift-off."
Skip stared slack-jawed at her for a moment, stunned at the quality of detail she was providing. He had been expecting, at best, an inexpert summary of the plans. Instead, she was giving him an overview that General Patton would have been proud of.
Paul wasn't so impressed. The information did nothing but scare him worse than he already had been. "I sure feel better," he said, "knowing how they're going to massacre us. I think I'll be able to sleep at night now."
Christine wasn't too keen on this either. "Skip," she said nervously, "I don't think we can counter something like that. Our guards are pretty good but... well... four hundred people attacking at once? We're not that good."
"And we're critically short on ammunition as well," Paul felt compelled to add.
"All of that is true," Skip agreed, still speaking calmly, as if he were addressing the subject of dinner that night. "There is no way we can fight off four hundred men attacking from three different directions. And we are somewhat short on ammunition."
"So what are you saying?" asked Anna, who had been patiently listening to this exchange.
"I'm not saying anything just yet. I still don't have all of the information. Let's finish talking about this attack plan for the moment. I want you to give me every detail that you can think of. I want to hear about the people that are leading these companies, what kind of weapons and ammo they'll be in possession of, what kind of food they eat on their marches, what kind of morale they typically show. I want everything."
And so Anna and Jean took turns telling all they knew about the attack. It was considerable and it took nearly an hour but Skip was able to get a well-rounded view of just what he was facing.
"So now that you know everything," Paul said. "What do you think? Should we start making plans to evacuate the town to somewhere else?"
"That's a possibility," Skip said doubtfully. "And we'll keep that high on our list of considerations of course, but you should realize that it is not quite as simple as you seem to think."
"Why not?"
"In the first place, where would we go? El Dorado Hills is maybe a possibility but we don't know that for sure. And even if they did agree to take us in, moving everyone and everything there in a short period of time is not as easy as it sounds."
"What do you mean?" Paul asked.
"We have more than two hundred people in this town," Skip said. "We can only fly four, maybe five out at a time. That represents more than fifty round trips in the helicopter. That will almost exhaust our fuel supply and will cause horrible wear and tear on the chopper itself. I cannot even guarantee that we would be able to make that many trips without losing some vital component that I can't replace with the supplies I have. And then there's our food, weapon, and ammunition supplies. How many more trips would it take to move them over? Another twenty? Another thirty?"
"So you're saying that we can't evacuate?" Christine asked.
"No," he replied, "I'm saying that it's not a simple Micker of just loading everything and everyone up and flying off into the sunset. If we try to go that route, we're talking about an eight to ten day operation at best and with a good possibility we won't be able to get everything and everyone safely there."
"If we lose the chopper we could go on foot," Paul said. "It's a long march, sure, but..."
"A long march of about two weeks," Skip said. "And we would be forced to leave most of our food supplies here. And if we don't have extra food or this helicopter, why would El Dorado Hills take us in?"
Paul became extremely frustrated at this point. "So are you saying that we should stay here and try to fight off four hundred men?" he yelled. "Because it sure the hell sounds to me like that's what you're suggesting! Do you want to fight these people?"
"I don't want to do anything," Skip told him. "And I'm not suggesting anything either. I'm only telli
ng you the realities of the situation. And the realities are that evacuation will be costly and may very well cost us our food and our bargaining power with other communities."
"Shit," Paul muttered, running his hands through his hair nervously. "We have a community meeting scheduled for tonight. Tongues have been wagging ever since these two arrived here. What am I going to tell everyone?"
"Tell them the truth," Skip said. "They have a right to know that trouble is on the way and what our options are."
"And if they panic and decide to flee town?"
"I don't think they'll do that," Skip said. "Just tell them what we know and we'll work from there."
"Remember the days," Skip asked Jack at 10:00 PM that night, "when community meetings used to be quick little affairs that took about twenty minutes? We used to gather, have a quick discussion on the Micker and hand, have a vote, and then it was all over. Do you remember that?"
"I remember," Jack said wearily from his seat in the observer's chair of the helicopter. "It looks like those days are over."
"Yep," Skip said, applying power and getting the rotor turning. "Lifting off. Is the FLIR up and on line?"
"Ready for action," Jack confirmed.
The meeting in question had ended only twenty minutes before after raging for more than three solid hours. In the course of those hours nearly every adult in town, including those on guard detail, had had their say on the Micker of the coming attack. The emotions of the meeting had run even higher than they had during the recent El Dorado Hills contact debate. This time however, nothing was ultimately decided. Skip, following Paul's previous lead, had described the ramifications of the information in a dispassionate and non-biased manner, advocating no particular course of action. He had explained that fighting off so many armed men attacking at once was impossible - it simply could not be done. He had also explained that evacuating the entire town and its contents - even assuming El Dorado Hills agreed to take them - was a risky venture at best without much chance of succeeding.