by Ric Beard
“You got a smoke?” Reagan yelled.
He shook his head. “People still do that?”
“Shit.”
The frustrated look on her face made him wish he hadn’t teased her. “Sorry. None of us smoke.”
Half an hour later, they passed through a field with a swath cut in the earth about eight feet deep and hundreds of feet wide. Uprooted and shredded trees were strewn everywhere as if a giant hand yanked them from the earth, ground them up between giant fingers like wet twigs, and tossed them carelessly aside. He pushed away the returning concern that Jenna and company might have been in the path of that storm.
Because they’d have to go the long way around the damage, the team kept the hover bikes at low speed to conserve energy. They couldn’t count on solar charge efficiency with the heavy cloud cover and constant storms in the region, so Moss decided they should take it easy until they could charge with Jenna’s portable wind turbines. There was plenty of fucking wind.
Reagan rode in lockstep with Moss as they crossed the water-soaked fields and they were able to talk more comfortably as the wind died down and the rain lightened.
“I was Expeditionary Forces before the badlanders ambushed us near Nashville. We didn’t know The Chain was building a presence there. Our drones were busy maintaining the security zone surrounding our city until we could install motion cameras in the forest. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it while I was stuck with The Crows.” She shook her head.
“The Chain was constantly lobbing harmless volleys at the wall in small bands of ten or so. They’d fire at the wall, set off perimeter alarms, anything they could do to make noise. Then they’d relocate under the cover of trees and reposition to do it all again, like children ringing citizens’ doorbells, running away, and going back for seconds.
“I naturally wanted to know how I’d been captured, so I considered every contingency. I finally figured out that The Chain was testing the city’s perimeter to keep the drones close to home while Horace’s faction moved into Nashville. Those small groups were little more than a distraction. It worked. Meanwhile, the badlanders at outlying camps between the city and Nashville were analyzing the drone patterns. They figured out which badlander camps the drones flew recon missions over, so they knew what our targets were. We were sitting ducks when we arrived.”
“That sounds like pretty good strategy,” Moss said.
“General Horace fancies himself a strategist. I met him. He’s an ugly bastard. That makes people mean.”
“You met him? Did The Crows take you to him?”
Reagan paused and wiped a raindrop off of her eye. “No, Horace’s guys captured me. The Crows didn’t have the kinds of resources needed to assault an EF unit, and those cowards don’t wander into Horace’s territory if they can help it. They’re terrified of him.”
“Then how did you end up with The Crows?”
“The Crows’ leader, Wolfe, saw me when he was running a corn shipment to Horace. The Chain had no shortage of female prisoners. We make up a third of the EF and the townships are full of women. Horace’s guys love to do raids under cover of night. He even has a unit who specialized in knocking them out and bringing them back. I don’t know to this day what they traded for me, but I have suspicions.”
The rain lightened and began to fall straight down around them as the wind all but vanished. Moss looked west and saw a break in the clouds working their way from the western horizon. Considering the speed of the clouds zooming by overhead, it would only take about an hour before his message would auto send to Jenna. He flicked his eyes back at Reagan.
“Wasn’t Wolfe afraid his luck would run out with someone like Horace? Wasn’t he afraid Horace would eventually take what was his?”
“More like terrified. Wolfe keeps the community small to ensure they only garner so much of Horace’s attention. Horace doesn’t even know where the farms are because they’re careful to be generous with him, keep him from wondering. The less they interact with him, the less chance he decides to commandeer their acreage. Besides, every boy born in the neighborhood was taken to Horace, no strings attached.”
“Recruitment?”
“I wish. Seems the general has certain proclivities, which is probably why I was an easy trade. The women in The Chain fighting force were scarred, rough-looking things. They don’t have a healthcare system like Triangle City. Not much for field medics to tend to wounds, either. They scar as much from fighting each other as the enemy. Anyway, Horace didn’t like having unscarred women like me around, and he didn’t seem to have any interest in keeping me for his own use. City women like me cause turmoil in the ranks, bidding wars over sex slaves.”
“Slaves? Moss spat off the side of his bike. “I will never understand how human beings can treat each other like that. Having your way with small boys? Man, I hope someone makes him dead. Him and this Wolfe fuck.”
Reagan raised her brows and tipped her eyes his way. “Let’s see how you feel after you’ve seen it in action. I guarantee, you’d be angrier.”
“I’m sure. You know, it occurs to me. They must have an abundance of weapons if they’re willing to part with rifles like that.” He nodded toward the pulse weapon slung over Reagan’s back.
“Horace’s successes combating the Expeditionary Forces was part of what elevated him to general. That and a sword in the old general’s back, as I understand it. He took a lot of spoils from those successes. Since I learned my father turned the Expeditionary Forces away from Chain territory, I really began to understand the extent of Horace’s victories. My father is a stubborn bastard, and if he turned the military away from a fight, he must have been taking some serious casualties on The Chain front and a lot of resulting heat at home.”
“Your father? Who’s your father?”
“He’s the mayor of Triangle City. Or he was when I left.”
“Wait, you’re saying your father controls the military, and he turned the Expeditionary Forces away from the people who kidnapped his daughter?”
One side of Reagan’s nose ticked up as she turned her eyes forward, focusing on the earth in front of her bike as she rode.
“If the intel I’ve siphoned off of Wolfe is true, my father is a real mother fucker. I plan to take it up with him when I get home.”
Moss laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it.
“I’ll bet you do. Stick him once for me, would you? He pulled the road crews and are making us do all the work. My friend is leading the crew from the OK City side, and she has a lot more work to do because of the decision to pull the crews from the east. She’s out there with her ass hanging out and would probably be nearly finished if it weren’t for your dad. It pisses me off.” He clinched his teeth and gripped the handlebars a little tighter. “Anyway, that’s who we are going to meet up with.”
“What’s her name?”
“Jenna. Hell of a marksman. Top-notch doctor, too.” He checked his handheld again. His message had been sent, but there was no signal now to receive a reply.
“You have a twinkle in your eye when you talk about her,” Reagan said, turning the bars on her bike to hover around a group of saplings, watching as Moss swerved the other way around them.
“The different worlds of the badlanders are interesting. Whereas The Crows farm, The Horde does a lot of animal husbandry.”
Reagan apparently noted the change of subject.
“Ok, I get it. This Jenna is off limits. So, yeah, The Chain raises animals, too. Since Horace’s force is mobile and currently urban, they rely on people like Wolfe and The Chain’s townships to provide other sustenance. He has raiders that roll around the MidEast on the backs of trucks to pick up regular protection payments from farmers.”
“The Chain has townships? Like walled townships?” Chapman asked, surprising Moss, who hadn’t heard his approach over the thunder that had become more steady.
“You know they’re human beings, right?” Reagan asked.
“S
hit. I just never gave that sort of thing a lot of thought, I guess.”
“They have some walled townships and Horace is still determined to take Triangle City. Remember that they’re not just a bunch of animals; think of them as human, and then you realize they want to take it intact to provide a safe place for themselves, inside our walls. All human beings want security.”
“From what I’ve heard, I can’t really blame them,” Chapman said. “Triangle City sounds pretty nice. Pretty secure.”
“The walls are nice. It’s hard to plow through concrete and steel without some serious artillery. But they wouldn’t know what to do with our tech, wouldn’t have a clue. Their way doesn’t work in a world like ours.”
“Ours either,” Moss said. “OK City has focused a lot on vehicles and armor. Technology meshing with war machines. We can roll into The Horde’s territory with a few tanks and deal serious blows now, which is why my unit has been moving east to provide cover for the road crews, less need for feet on the ground. Seems our tank technology has suddenly jumped forward.”
“Makes sense. Judging from these rifles, our weapon tech has jumped forward, as well.”
“So JenCorp, they make Triangle’s weapons?” Chapman asked.
Moss fingered the stamp on the rifle clipped to Reagan’s bike.
“It’s a company in Triangle City. They develop pulse weapons, Tabs and drones.”
“Tabs?” Sanchez asked.
Reagan looked at Sanchez and pointed at Moss’s handheld sheath.
“Ah, handhelds.”
“Good a name as any, I suppose.” She raised one side of her mouth. It looked almost foreign on her face. Moss wondered how long it had been since this woman had a reason to smile.
Chapman chuckled. “Triangle City sounds pretty comfortable.”
“Guilty as charged.” Reagan reached up with one hand while steering with the other, took her helmet off, and let the rain fall onto her hair and face. “I would kill for a shower with warm water.”
“I have connections.” Moss grinned. “Jenna should have a portable unit.”
“So, what does Jenna’s crew do for the clearing effort?”
“Her rig clears the heavy stuff so that the second crew can move the lighter stuff behind them. They’re days ahead of the second crew because they kick ass.”
“She’s stacked, too,” Chapman said. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”
Reagan turned on her bike and squinted at Chapman.
“Have some respect, dowel rod,” Moss said.
“Roger that.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
They Don't Keep Calendars
They found a line of trees twenty miles south of the tornado damage and stopped to pee. Moss walked out of the woods and saw Reagan standing next to her bike, rolling the JenCorp pulse rifle over in her hands. She pushed a button, the rifle whirred, and she looked through the scope. Lucy wiggled in the makeshift harness around Reagan’s neck, but settled again as Reagan paused to pat her back gently with one hand.
Reagan spoke in low tones while her eyes maintained focus on the weapon.
“I noticed the night vision was good, like real daylight. No green tint. Thirty-six-X zoom.” She pulled a handle and detached the stock, looking inside. “The circuitry is different, more compact.” She fingered a metal strip. “The solar charging strip is smaller.” She slapped the stock back on and tapped the side of the weapon. “This is a revolution over what I carried two years ago, which makes me wonder.”
“What?” Moss asked.
She held up the weapon and pointed at the series number on the stock, under the JenCorp label.
“This is an 8080. Mine was a 6000 series. Do your goggles magnify?”
“Sure.”
“Read this for me.” She held out the weapon and set her finger against some text imprinted into the stock.
Moss adjusted his goggles to see the small text. He read it and tilted his head slightly.
“2137. They were manufactured this year.”
“What month is it?” Reagan asked. When she saw Moss’s curious look, she added, “They don’t keep calendars. Farming seasons and outdoor temperatures were the only way I could keep track of time. Is it April yet?”
“It’s March.”
“If the Expo Forces really broke off last year, how is The Chain getting JenCorp’s latest prototypes, stamped within the last three months?”
She snapped the weapon back in a notch built into the side of the hover bike.
“You’re right. Something’s fishy.” He considered. “Couldn’t they have special forces groups like mine who still operate in Chain territory?”
“That might make sense, except Horace wouldn’t give the most advanced weapons to The Crows unless he had a surplus. He would give Wolfe the older stuff, especially since no boys have come of age yet, this year.”
Silence washed over them. They sat on their bikes, parallel to each other, the hovering fans humming more prominently in the absence of rain. Reagan put one hand on Lucy’s back.
“I was thinking about what you said. About how you were taken near Nashville.”
“Yeah, I was out on patrol one night. Couldn’t sleep. I broke the rules and left my shadow at camp.” She frowned. “His name is Kade. I can’t imagine what my stupidity has put him through.”
“Sounds like you’ve been through worse, if I’m being honest, Reagan.”
Reagan shrugged.
“To my point, Old I-40 runs right through Nashville. As you said, if we think of them as possessing human intelligence instead of letting our biases cause us to underestimate them, then we know they’re smart enough to understand how the joining of two cities’ militaries could end up robbing them of a lot of territory. If the intent is to attack the road crews on both sides so as to keep the two cities apart, it's the right place from which to launch your attacks. Jenna’s crew is constantly under attack these days. Though The Chain hasn’t stopped them, they’ve severely delayed them. They always come in small groups and are usually easily repelled. If Horace is sending those attackers in small numbers—do you see where I’m going?”
“I think so. He’s attacking Jenna and company just enough to keep them at bay, but not enough to encourage OK City to bring a full force down on him. Shifty little bugger, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. Shifty. If he doesn’t even have to fight on the Triangle City side of Nashville anymore because the clearing crews aren’t there, he also has a straight shot to Triangle City. Which means what you’ve heard in that cul-de-sac makes sense. He’s planning on making another run at Triangle City”
“If he’s been there two years, and he’s only sending small attacks at your girl Jenna, he’s got plenty of manpower by now.”
“But there’s still the question of the newer weapons being in the possession of the crows. If there are no military forces and no road clearing crews coming from the Triangle side, how is he getting these guns?”
Reagan turned her eyes to the sky and seemed to ponder what he was saying.
“That’s a good question. I have no idea. None.”
“Could there be a smuggler with access to this JenCorp’s stockpiles?”
“Shit no,” Reagan said without hesitation. “The city counts every weapon. Each is licensed. Each has a tracker embedded, even the ones sold to the public. Triangle City is big on security and safety. It’s how we keep each other honest.”
“What about military stockpiles?”
“Again, no fucking way. It’s not like our teams go out with a surplus of weapons. Each soldier has a primary rifle, a pistol, and a backup rifle unassembled in his pack. If Horace had a bunch of power cartridges for the pulse weapons, then maybe you’d have a case to argue. But we’re talking weapons, themselves. Besides, if the forces turned south…” She trailed off as she noticed Moss shaking his head. “What?”
“Let me ask the question a different way. How long has it been since The Chain last attacked the city?”
“Is that a long time?”
“Well, they’ve pulled off the small attacks, the perimeter tests I’ve told you about. But the cameras are certainly installed in the woods of the safe zone by now. Those would put a stop to that.”
“Right, so assuming no smaller attacks, assuming no large attacks, and assuming Horace has been in Nashville for at least the two years since you’ve been taken, what’s he waiting for?”
“You think someone inside Triangle City has struck a deal with the devil, don’t you? Trading weapons to keep Horace from coming back?”
“Right. Maybe Horace’s whole plan is to turn Asheville into a real city for his people. If he has a foothold there, he has a more defensible position that also serves to keep us from creating supply lines between OK City and Triangle.”
Reagan’s chin dropped. “Shit! That’s entirely possible.”
“So, now the obvious question is, who could pull that off?”
Reagan squinted at Moss as her jaw began to work. “There’s one person in Triangle City who has cart blanche with military supplies. He can command anything he wants, at will.”
“Your father, the mayor?”
“My father. Do you know when he pulled the road crews?”
Moss shook his head. “Not exactly, but it has to have been over a year ago, now. At least.”
“It makes sense. He turns the troops south. He pulls the road clearing crews. Horace monitors the stretch of Old I-40 from Nashville going east to ensure he keeps his end of the agreement, and OK City is left with its dick blowing in the wind and unable to do anything about it because its hands are full with The Horde.”
“We do keep pretty busy with The Horde. But if Horace or Mayor Vaughn saw what we’re capable of now, they’d know better than to underestimate what we’ll be capable of in a year. Sooner or later, we’re going to have enough artillery to spread the fight east, and when we do…”