But maybe there was. He himself had worried about the return of the class system already across New York. He had been shocked to discover people starving on the streets when he returned to a busy precinct with fresh coffee and a never-depleting supply of food. It was upon this discovery, that Walter realized they needed to do more for the people of the city. That was why they’d put the clean-up and the food banks into effect. To learn that there were people that still didn’t think that was enough, and were still suffering, came as a blow to the Lieutenant. Any pride of accomplishment he had felt earlier than morning was now non-existent.
He wanted to make a change and make a difference for everyone in the city, but maybe he wasn’t doing enough just yet. It was only the beginning, Walter reminded himself. It would take time to iron out the creases and get society up and running properly again. He couldn’t beat himself up too much – there was still time to make a difference.
“Alright boss,” Huxley greeted Walter as he opened the passenger side door to the car and climbed in. Josie also arrived at the same time and got in the backseat. “Mission accomplished?”
Walter nodded and smiled. “Certainly got what I came for,” he replied. “How did you two do?”
While Walter’s team had been at the market to dig up details about the weapons trade, Walter had also asked them to report back on any other information they could acquire. He was curious about how medicine was being moved throughout the city. All but one hospital was now entirely shut down due to power failures and lack of resources. The death count across New York was high. Most of those deaths had occurred in hospital beds and people’s houses, rather than on the street. Without certain resources, there was simply no way that hospitals could continue to function and in a lot of cases, several heartbreaking decisions had been made about the fate of patients left behind.
“I got nothing,” Huxley replied with a disappointed shake of his head. “Josie did a bit better though – sounds like she might have a lead on the drug front.”
“Yeah,” Josie confirmed. “Not exactly what I was looking for but along the right lines – no one would open up about how hospital meds are being moved. But if we want something a bit more street level to take the edge off,” she winked at him, “I know where we can find that, now.”
“That’s something,” Walter replied, pursing his lips as he added it to the ever-growing list in his head of what was going wrong in the city. New York had always had a drug problem. Just like any other large city in the world, there were illegal drugs being moved every night and any number of people taking them around the clock.
Drug use walked hand in hand with poverty and desperation. As there were more and more people living below the poverty line and struggling to get by following the collapse, the city had seen the number of recreational drug users rise. At the moment, it was a problem the police were aware of but weren’t really able to do anything about. The offenders didn’t cause any serious trouble other than to themselves and they sat rather low on the list of priorities.
“Well I got some details about the weapons trade,” Walter informed the other two. “I’ll brief everyone when we get back to the precinct. We just need Dixon to hurry up now.”
“I didn’t see him when I left,” Huxley commented, “did you, Josie?”
“No,” Josie shook her head. “I haven’t seen him since we went in, actually.”
“Let’s give him a bit longer,” Walter decided. “We can always head back in and search for him.” Walter checked his side mirror and then looked back over his shoulder. “Never mind. Here he comes.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Dixon apologized as soon as he opened the back door and entered the car. “Just as I was leaving a couple of kids tried nicking stuff from one of the stalls and I ended up getting involved. Stayed undercover,” he added quickly, looking up at Walter. “But they ran right past me and the woman was shouting after them – I had to step in. Got the tools back but the kids got away. Wasn’t really much else I could do.”
Walter sighed and shook his head. “Sounds like you did the right thing. I guess it’s no different than how shoplifters used to be.”
“True,” Dixon nodded. “I did get some information before all of that went down, though, so it wasn’t a complete failure. How did you all make out?”
“Good,” Walter replied, “you can debrief with me back at the precinct. Everyone good to go?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Despite all being in a car, the four of them had no intention of driving anywhere. They were using the vehicles as safe points across the city, providing shelter where they could wait or band together without the fear of being overheard. In unison they all opened their various doors and stepped back out into the street. While the teams of volunteers were working on clearing them so vehicles could drive down them again, fuel was a valuable and scarce resource and it simply couldn’t be wasted on trips through the boroughs. It was only a few miles back to the precinct.
Walter much preferred to walk through the city anyway. He felt like it granted him a better viewpoint of what was happening around him, affording him the time to look up at windows above street level and peer down alleyways. He knew that the only way he could help those left in New York was if he understood fully what they were going through. Already his experience that day had led him to believe he was failing at that.
“How do you think everyone is doing?” He asked Huxley as the two of them walked side by side, Dixon and Josie a little way ahead. “Do you think we’re actually making a difference? Do you think what we’re doing is really helping people?”
“I think so, sir,” Huxley replied confidently. “We’re providing food and shelter to those who need it and we’re doing what we can to clean the city up again. It’s not an easy job and it’s not happening very quickly either, but with the resources we have, I think we’re doing all that we can.”
“I think so too,” Walter nodded. “Or at least I did until today.”
“Why’s that? What’s changed?”
“The stall owner that I was speaking to,” Walter said. “He seemed to think that things were just going to end up in the same position as they were before. Like we weren’t actually making anything any better.”
“Where’d he get that idea from?” Huxley argued back, not quite as taken as Walter was by the idea. “We’re doing everything we can to make this city livable again – sure it’s not happening overnight, but at least we’re trying. It’s more than you can say for a lot of people. There’s plenty that are volunteering, but there’s double that who are just sitting back and letting us do the work for them. And I’ll bet you anything that your stall owner was amongst that group. No offense sir, but you’ve got to remember who you were talking to. They’re black market traders, they’re not exactly the most honest or reliable people.”
Walter was surprised by Huxley’s short speech, but listening to what the man was saying, it made a lot of sense. Perhaps he had been taken in too much by Henry Packham’s performance and was feeling too sympathetic toward him due to some other factors. Walter did stand by the work they were doing across the city and hearing Huxley say they were doing a good job reminded him of the many successes they’d encountered.
He was momentarily inspired by their work until Walter’s eyes fell on a familiar looking woman and daughter sitting on the edge of the sidewalk across the road. They were passing a sandwich between the two of them, each taking a small bite and then offering it to the other as they gradually nibbled through the sad looking meal.
“Go on ahead,” Walter instructed Huxley. “I’ll meet you back at the precinct.”
“Everything alright, sir?”
“Yeah,” Walter nodded. “Just something I’ve realized I need to do first. I won’t be long – tell Captain Banes to go ahead with his briefing without me if I’m not back.”
“Okay,” Huxley replied, confused about what was happening. “Will do.”
As the younger officer
jogged on to catch up with Dixon and Josie, Walter stepped into the road and crossed toward the woman and her daughter. It was the same pair that he had spoken to outside of the rescue center several days ago. After he’d heard their story about how the collapse had affected their lives, he’d used it as the inspiration he needed to help him set up the change across the city. Everything he was doing was so that he could improve the lives of people like this mother and daughter, and yet as he looked at them now, they seemed to be even worse off than when he had last encountered them.
“Harriet, right?” Walter asked as he approached. “And Maisie?”
The mother, Harriet, looked up at Walter, not appearing to recognize him in the same way he had them. “Do we know you?”
“Lieutenant Walter Davies,” he reminded them both. “We met a few days back, outside the rescue center downtown.”
“Oh, right,” Harriet raised her eyebrows and shrugged, clearly uninterested in whatever Walter wanted. She returned to the sandwich in her hands while Maisie kept her head down and remained silent as she had before, frightened or nervous around the police officer.
“How are you both doing?” Walter asked, pressing for information. “Are you getting enough food now we have rationing in place? You know we’ve set up volunteer groups to help clean up across the city. Have you considered joining?”
Harriet huffed, making a noise that insinuated Walter didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Yeah we’re doing real nice,” she replied with a thick note of sarcasm in her voice. “Living like queens now, aren’t we Maisie? Thank the nice man for what he’s done for us.”
Maisie didn’t respond, though Walter felt hurt by Harriet’s words and confused by her accusing tone. “I don’t understand,” he spoke calmly. “We put these measures in place for you – to help.”
“Well thanks,” Harriet sighed, “but you might have put a little more thought into it all first. I can’t volunteer because I can’t leave Maisie by herself all day. And now that food is being rationed, there’s less of it to go around for the rest of us.”
“Are you not getting your rations?” Walter questioned, truly taken aback by what Harriet was telling him and hurt by the notion that he wasn’t doing his job properly. “Why not?”
“We tried at first, sure,” Harriet replied. “But there’s still only a finite amount. Volunteers come first and then if you turn up late or are too far back in the line, there’s nothing left when you get there.”
“I – I had no idea.”
Harriet scoffed, something that started off sounding like a laugh but then transformed into a raspy, unhealthy coughing fit. Once it subsided, she looked up at Walter from the curb with distain and disgust in her eyes. “Guess you wouldn’t, would you. It’s the same as always – do what you think the people need and then turn your back and congratulate yourselves for it, while the rest of us keep suffering. Except now it’s suffering with a few more pictures on the wall,” she mocked sarcastically. “Come on Maisie,” Harriet stood up and pulled her daughter to her feet as well. “We don’t have to sit here and answer to him. Let’s go.”
Walter stared after the mother and daughter, so defeated he didn’t even have the energy to call after them and beg them to stay and explain longer. Despite what Huxley had said to him about the stall owner from the black market and how he shouldn’t trust that sort of person, Walter knew he needed to because otherwise he was never going to learn what was truly happening across the city.
Seeing Harriet and Maisie again put it all firmly into perspective – what they were doing wasn’t helping and they needed to find another way of trying to clean up the city. They needed more regulation in place and a better understanding of the people and their problems. Ashamed of himself, Walter realized that in trying to make a difference, all he had done was make the problem worse. He was a failure and there was no other way of putting it.
Chapter 7
When he finally returned to the precinct, it became immediately apparent to Walter that he had missed a big announcement. There was a buzz in the air that normally followed big briefings and people were moving with more urgency than usual, inspired by the details they had just learned. Walter made a beeline to the room where his office was set up, searching for someone who could update him.
“Hey,” he greeted Samantha Rice with a smile, pleased that he had managed to bump into her. “How’re you?”
“Hi Walter,” Samantha smiled back at him, showing off her white teeth and brightening up the room as she did so. “I’m good, thanks. I’ve not seen you around in a while, what’ve you been up to?”
“Ah, you know,” Walter shrugged off the question. “The usual police work – trying to keep the city from deteriorating even further. Trying to keep people fed and happy, protected from crime and danger. How about you?”
Samantha laughed her soft, musical chuckle that made Walter’s cheeks flush. Her beauty only seemed to increase every time he saw her, radiating goodness in a world that otherwise had very few positives to shout about. Where everyone else was bedraggled and in need of a shower and shave, Samantha was pristine and perfectly kept, her hair shiny and neat, her skin clear and just the right shade of pink.
“You’re too modest,” she replied. “I’ve heard about some of the initiatives you’ve been leading on, Walter. It’s incredible what you’ve achieved already for people. You should be really proud.”
“It’s a start,” Walter replied, remembering what Mr. Packham had told him and how Harriet had reacted when he’d encountered her sitting on the curb for a second time. “There’s still a lot more to be done though. People are still going hungry and the streets are far from safe. What was the announcement about just now? I got back just after it finished.”
“You missed it?” Samantha remarked, her voice going up an octave as she spoke. Walter could tell she was animated about what had happened, her attitude matching the buzz he had felt when he first entered the precinct. “Oh, I’m excited about this one, Walt. We’ve been working really hard behind the scenes, you probably haven’t noticed,” she winked at Walter in jest, “but there’s been work going on here too.”
“I know,” Walter smiled, urging Samantha to come out with the facts.
“We’ve launched a new currency,” she beamed. “Out with the dollar, in with the dot.”
“The dot?”
“Yeah,” Samantha nodded. “It’s pretty simple at the moment, but it should serve its purpose while we build up to something more meaningful. I think having a currency in place will help people a lot mentally as well, give them more of a sense of normality – make them truly believe things are going back to normal.”
“Hang on,” Walter stopped Samantha, confused by where she was going with her explanation. “Dial it back a second – what’s the dot? How does it work?”
“Well it’s like any form of currency really,” Samantha explained. “We’ll deal them out to people based on their worth – those helping with the clean up will get more for example, or people who are helping to maintain the peace. There’ll be a base level to begin with and then opportunities to earn more. Things like rations will still come as standard, but then trading in one dot could get you an extra portion, two dots even more and so on. Damien has thought out all the logic behind it and most of the key players are on board. It’s great, don’t you think?”
Walter paused for a moment, thinking about what Samantha was telling him and trying to wrap his head around it. He had been aware that conversations were being held surrounding how they could reintegrate a currency system back into the city, but he had thought they were months away from it. Damien Cratchit had been on the Board of Directors at Trident and had been helping with their efforts to sort out the city since his company’s collapse. His focus had always been the money side of things, but Walter believed this was all happening too soon. Surely there were other things they needed to resolve before giving necessary items like food and medicine a value again. It
would only increase the problems around the class system, which already concerned him. Plenty of people in New York would likely not be able to acquire the necessary dots to get what they needed.
“It’s a bit soon, don’t you think? Shouldn’t we be more concerned about making sure everyone is safe and healthy first, then worry about how we can put a value on that?”
“It’s not about valuing things,” Samantha argued back. “It’s more so we can keep track of what things are worth.”
Walter looked at her with a bemused smile. He shook his head, confused, and waited for her to continue.
“I know it sounds like the same thing,” Samantha sighed, “but Damien assures us they’re not. You should speak to him, he explains it a lot better than I do, but it does make sense. Once we’ve got people using the dot in exchange for goods and services and earning it back in return, then we can return to a more structured society. People will understand that they can’t continue to steal and trade in back alleys and that the law is returning to the position it was in before.”
“I think that’s the problem,” Walter replied in an exasperated manner, paraphrasing what Henry Packham had told him earlier that day. “We shouldn’t want to return to the same way things were before; that’s how we ended up in this mess. We need to make a change and do things better this time – we’ve got a clean slate, there’s no point muddying it with the same dirt as before.”
The exchange between Walter and Samantha Rice had by now gathered quite a few listeners, a number of people in the room stopping what they were doing to watch the debate go on. Walter had raised his voice without meaning to, bringing a silence to the area around him as he finished speaking. Pausing to look around and take better control of himself, he tucked in a part of his shirt and exhaled slowly, thinking through what he was about to say.
Wipeout | Book 4 | Overdrawn Page 5