Hovering to the south a mile away and a thousand feet up, Angel one joined the pack of Angels and continued its programed mission.
On numb legs Bren walked off his porch, staring at his destroyed air wing. For better or worse, he realized they were stuck there unless the Wild Ones allowed them to leave because moving by land to another spot was suicide. As his staff ran over to check on him, Bren just walked off to see what all was lost.
Two hours later, Bren walked into Victor’s office to see Blake and Victor waiting at the table in the back. “All the helicopters?” Victor asked before Bren had even reached his chair.
“Yes, all of them,” Bren sighed, and dropped in the chair. “Victor, the attack lasted no more than eighty seconds, and three drones destroyed twenty-four helicopters. Coming in from the east, they started firing about a mile out I’m guessing. Thing is, they accomplished the goal in half that time. When the three flew over us, all the choppers had been hit but as the drones flew toward the west, they hit each one again.”
“We need to do something,” Blake suggested, and both looked at Blake like he was insane. “Others can’t see that we just took a hit and not respond. Victor, you told me, if threatened always respond.”
Glad that his brother did listen, Victor still shook his head. “Blake, you never enforce a loss, and attacking would be a loss. I agree with Bren, if the Wild Ones come, we leave.”
“That’s going to be hard now,” Bren pointed out. Leaning back, Bren pulled out a digital camera. “We leave here, we have to go by land, and we don’t have the resources. We don’t even have enough vehicles to move the ammunition we have.”
“I heard that you ordered your troops to stop firing at the flying machines,” Victor stated, watching Bren scroll through images on the back of the camera.
“The UAVs were long gone but there were more to the south and anyone who fired got hit but after a minute or so, whatever it was to the south that shot them destroyed something else. We lost two Hummers and a fuel truck because of that,” Bren answered, then handed the camera to Victor. “This was taken down at the substation at the levee.”
Taking the camera, Victor gave a shiver to see a large hover drone with what looked like that weird gun the Wild Ones used hanging under it. The drone was just hovering over the substation yard. “I didn’t get reports of damage at the power station,” Victor said, looking up at Bren.
“There wasn’t any,” Bren answered. “The Wild Ones were letting us know, it could’ve been much worse. Guards at the marina reported a drone hovering over the new battle bot area but since I ordered, ‘don’t shoot unless fired upon’, they didn’t do anything and the UAV left.”
“So, they only destroyed the choppers?” Blake asked in wonder.
“No, they took out the Sentinel radar we’d brought in from Farmers,” Bren answered. “Just the radar, not the command truck with the monitor displays. It seems they don’t want us to have radar.”
“Did radar pick up the flying machines?” Victor asked.
“It did, but only when they were close and even then, weren’t registering them as threats. The machines flew in at treetop level and then dropped down to the lake surface. Only when they rose up to firing positions did the radar get them, but registered them as birds.”
Looking down at the screen on the camera, “That would be a big ass bird,” Victor noted. A knock at the door stopped him from continuing. “Come in,” Victor called out, and one of his bodyguards came in. Stopping beside Victor, the guard whispered in his ear and when he stopped, Victor just nodded and the guard left.
“Blake, get the radio and turn it to the Borg station,” Victor sighed. Doing as he was told, Blake returned with the radio, turning it on as he sat down and they caught the end of a Borg Queen message.
A beep sounded as the message repeated and the voice of the Borg Queen spilled from the radio. “I hope those at the Trading Post enjoyed the flight of my pretties,” the queen said rather seductively. “If there is a brain among you, then you should understand I could’ve told them to destroy all, but the Wild Ones forbade that.”
All three at the table sighed hearing that.
“Those who joined you from the imbecilic Wade have been granted a stay of execution and may continue to live. But the equipment wasn’t yours and the Wild Ones had decreed, everything at Buckhorn was to be destroyed. At the decree, the equipment was there but you so slyly tried to claim it thinking to fool the Wild Ones, so you had to be shown a lesson. Personally, I hope you haven’t learned your lesson and I may send my children among you,” the queen ended in a cackle.
“To prove you understand that the Wild Ones are the rulers here, you will give them a show of respect. Tomorrow by noon, all stock, the ones you make wear collars, and all branded will be taken to your marina and placed in trucks. They will be allowed to leave unharmed. You need not give them supplies for the Wild Ones will see to it, as they are taking this burden off of you before they set your stock and branded free. Any branded or stock not released at noon will be taken, as you must think you are better than the Wild Ones, and then they will unleash me and my children upon you. I know a few, very few, from Buckhorn escaped because the Wild Ones allowed it. Word must spread that my children are growing and wish to make me proud.”
Slack-jawed, the three stared at the radio like the Borg Queen was really sitting at the table talking to them.
“If you comply, the Wild Ones will allow you to exist, but you will never venture east past the interstate. If any do, then I will lead my children among you,” the queen giggled. “And I must say, my favorite child Phoenix wishes to show his queen how much he adores me by slaughtering those I find vile.” Hearing ‘Phoenix’ all three shivered, having gotten good descriptions of what it did.
“It has been some time since the Wild Ones have been among you, but we have a very good idea on the number of stock and branded you claim. All must be given leave at noon, despite the holder of the stock or what brand they have. For one, just one stock or branded not turned loose, I will be granted permission to come with my children and like Buckhorn, very few will get to survive to spread the word of my children who proudly serve beneath the greatness of the Wild Ones.”
“I was told to give you this message and I complied because even the Queen of the Borg obeys the Wild Ones. So you puny mortals should take heed. If I obey, what hope do you have to stand against them?” The radio beeped and the message soon repeated, but no one turned it off as their mouths hung open.
Bren had gone and found a copy of the movie, and the queen sounded just the same as the actor. So much so, Bren had actually started toying with the idea of tracking her location down before the forsaken world had evolved around them.
After the message played again, Blake finally reached over to turn the radio off. “I say we give the bitch what she wants so she keeps that demonic child Phoenix of hers the fuck away from us,” Blake informed them.
“How many stock and branded are here?” Victor asked, finally turning from the radio and blinking his dry eyes.
“Victor, I don’t know,” Blake answered. “I know how many we have to be sold or the ones that wear mine or your brands.” Victor understood because stock and branded were never counted as part of the population. “I don’t even know how many branded Timmy has, but it has to be over twenty. I’m sure he has at least seven stock.” At the Trading Post, Timmy held some sway because he was the head engineer over the levee and power plant. Most had been branded at the top of the sternum so the brand could be easily seen. Timmy always branded on the left glute, so his branded had to walk around with their ass exposed. There were men branded at the Trading Post, but very few men were stock. Most male stock were young boys, the rest were female, young and a very, very few old.
When stock was branded, it belonged to you forever and couldn’t be sold or touched by another, unless permission was given. Stock was viewed the same, but could be sold. But damaging someone’s stock, the p
enalties were much more severe than branded because stock were assets. The fact stock and branded were people didn’t faze any in the room. They’d made something off of it.
“Victor,” Blake said, digging out his tablet. “There are seven brothels, and at both casinos we have stock and branded working. Just those alone, we’re talking about four or five hundred.”
“What about the stock we have for sale?” Bren asked.
After his tablet came on, Blake brought up the spreadsheet and scrolled through it. “With what we got from Buckhorn, we’re looking at two thousand and seventy-three stock ready for auction.”
Bren turned to Victor. “We do what the queen says, it must be all or none,” Bren told Victor. “Over half here have stock and/or branded, and none can be allowed to stay.”
“They give up their stock and branded or they get the fuck out before noon tomorrow,” Victor responded, and that shocked Bren and Blake. “I have others trained now on jobs that are critical, so none of those out there are vital anymore.”
Giving an impressed nod, “Very good,” Bren smirked because he had sent some of his troops to learn the same jobs Victor was referring to.
“Do we even have the vehicles for them to leave?” Blake asked.
Thinking for a minute, “I’m sure we do but depending on how many, I’m sure we are about to lose all of our semi and box trucks,” Bren answered.
Staring at Bren, “Do you have any alternative?” Victor asked.
“Not one that doesn’t involve facing the queen’s children,” Bren answered. “Victor, this may be the break we wanted,” Bren suggested. “We’ve wanted a way to let the Wild Ones know, we aren’t a threat and will leave them alone. This is going to hurt us, but only in the short term. In the long term, we get the threat of Wild Ones attacking off our backs.”
“I have to agree with that,” Blake said looking up from his tablet. “Just from our ammunition stockpiles, we can replace the action and brothel stock in a month. That’s not including the food, drugs, and liquor stores we have put back from production. To be honest, I think we could replace everyone’s losses in a month.”
Nodding, “Those who stay and give up their stock and branded get replacements at half price,” Victor decided. “Any who don’t give them up have to be out before noon and can never return.”
Leaning over the table, “Victor,” Bren said softly, “I’m telling you now, any who work for us that want to leave, I’m having shot. We can’t risk them getting picked up by others who want information about our operation.”
“You hold ‘em and I’ll pull the trigger,” Victor replied. In the end, none were shot and most liked the idea of half price replacements.
Women and children constituted ninety-five percent of the four thousand, three hundred and eight that were brought to the marina the next day. At noon, a line of semis with boxed trailers pulled out heading east. Two miles from the interstate, they were met by thunder bots and a group in a weird-looking tracked buggy. A black man got out of the track and walked over to the lead truck.
“I’m Jarvis,” he grinned up at the driver. “Follow me to the Wild Ones and we can get everyone fed. Any who want to leave, we’ll get you some gear.”
The young woman driving the truck stared at Jarvis like he was make-believe and then turned to the thunder bots mowing down the infected trying to get closer. “We can leave?” she mumbled, turning back to Jarvis.
Shrugging, “We don’t keep anyone who doesn’t want to stay,” Jarvis told her as an Angel Bot flew across the road. “You can stay but if you do, everyone has to work and everyone has to fight. Sorry, but there are no free rides.”
“I don’t know how to shoot a gun,” the young woman confessed as tears filled her eyes.
“Darlin’, we can teach you that,” Jarvis laughed. “Any who do stay will come to find out learning is another requirement because the more we learn, the better prepared we are in this forsaken world.”
Rubbing the collar around her neck, “I want to stay,” she said, blinking tears away.
“You don’t have to decide now, darlin’. Let’s get all of you inside, get you fed, and let you rest before anyone makes a decision like that, okay?” Jarvis smiled, and the woman nodded. “We already have folks waiting to get those collars off, so just follow me and don’t bump into any of the robots because they’ll take it personal and start shooting.”
Rolling up her window, the young woman watched Jarvis climb up on the track and get inside the turret. “The Wild Ones,” she whispered and for the first time in over six months, she smiled.
“They’re really real,” a young girl in the sleeper gasped.
They followed Jarvis as bots cleared the way and they headed to what they all had thought was gone from the world, a safe haven, and it was provided for and offered by The Wild Ones.
The End
Click on the Links Below to Check Out Other Works by
Thomas A Watson
Thank You for Reading, Please Remember to Leave a Review
Join Us on A-Poc Press Page for all Watson updates
Follow me on Twitter
Check out My Website
Forsaken World | Book 6 | Redemption Page 44