Jason Frost - The Warlord

"She's right," Rydell jumped in. He spoke quickly as if each word burned his tongue. "We talked it over while you were scouting and decided to go back to Savvy town."

"Back to Savvytown? For God's sake, what for?"

"We're going to try and get that girl out, the one we gave them this morning. Roth. That Savvy character said they'd cut her other leg in the morning, we want to help her first. And if we can, her sister and mother. We owe her that."

"What the hell are you talking about? You'll get killed. Those guys have at least one gun, probably more stashed around. And Flex and his bunch aren't nervous about using them. They won't debate the ethics of when and where to shoot. They'll blow your fucking heads off and use them as paperweights."

"Maybe. But we're willing to take the risk."

"You don't have the right. Because it's not your Jives you're risking, it's Annie's and Timmy's. If you get yourselves killed, you've also killed their chances of escape."

Tracy held up her hands. "You're right, Eric. That's what I told them too. I was against it completely. At first." She took a deep breath. "But maybe they're right too. Maybe this girl's life is just as important as Annie's. Or Timmy's. Even if we don't know them."

"Oh Christ. What kind of moral garbage are you dishing up? She was your friend; took you in when you didn't have a home."

"That's true. That's how I know if she were here, she'd be standing with us, not you."

Eric didn't want to think about that. "You'll all be killed. You know that?"

Molly shook her head. "Not the way we figure it. We go in now, while it's still dark. They won't be expecting anything. We knock out the generators, create a lot of confusion. Then we steal the girl. With luck, maybe her sister and mother too."

"How are you going to find her?"

"What?"

"The girl. How will you know where to find her?"

Molly shrugged. "Search, I guess. Call her name."

"Search. You're going to search through a dozen houses and trailers, not knowing who's standing behind which door with a gun or a spear or a knife? Sure, call her name. I'm sure after all you did for her this morning she'll be glad to come running, filled with trust."

"We'll find her, don't worry," Rydell said.

Tracy's voice was calm, a little sad. "It doesn't sound good, but we have to, Eric. If we're going to live with ourselves, we have to try. You can come if you want."

Eric said nothing.

"I didn't think so. In your place, I probably wouldn't either. In any event, if we make it, we'll pick up your trail and catch up later. We still want to get Annie and Timmy."

Eric sighed. "You can't change the world. Or destroy evil. Or win one for the Gipper. Or any of that noble shit that's polluted your brain. Even if your grandest hope came true and you leveled the town, banished wrong-doers from the kingdom, won the day for chivalry and the American way, you haven't changed anything. They'll just go somewhere else and start over. There are probably a dozen places like this right now up and down this miserable strip of land. You can't save the world."

"We don't want to save the world, Eric," Tracy said. "Just our fair share."

Eric swung his pack onto his shoulders. "She's probably not on the street we walked down. I'd try the cross street first." He walked out of camp, following the road south.

"Should we split up?" Season whispered.

Rydell shook his head. "Not yet. First let's knock out the generator. Then we'll split. Molly and I will take the east end of the street, you and Tracy take the west. We'll meet in the middle. If we haven't got them, we'll head north, you two go south. We'll hook up again south of town, where we left Eric."

The mention of Eric's name chilled them a little, as if they just realized how alone they really were. They had watched him walking ofi into the night after his wife and son, getting smaller and smaller. Disappearing into black.

"Let's do it," Tracy said.

They all nodded, trying to generate enthusiasm like a basketball team slapping hands. But the fear was greater than they'd imagined, some many-tentacled alien lodged in their throats, wrapped around their legs, chewing on their stomachs. They went anyway.

Entering town was easy. They abandoned the road and sneaked in at an angle, dodging from brush to brush, tree to tree. The foliage was denser here, more lush than they'd been experiencing the past few days. Farther to the south they'd seen groves of green trees.

"We'll just follow the sound," Rydell instructed. The generator hummed loudly, but with all the music and noise it was hard to gauge a direction.

"Why don't we just follow the wires?" Season suggested, pointing up at the wires running to each trailer and home.

"Some physicist I am," Rydell said.

They crawled along the backs of trailers, behind houses, through the dark unkempt yards, their eyes fixed on the wires strung sloppily overhead. Finally they discovered the source. A small wooden shack between two trailers.

The loud rumbling inside left no doubt and Tracy put her hand against the wooden wall. "I can feel the vibrations. This is it."

"Okay," Rydell said excitedly. "Let's kill the lights."

Suddenly a loud click echoed behind them. The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Savvy smiled, his feet propped on his desk, twitching in their alligator leather shoes. "You were right. The girl did the trick. No pun."

"Of course, Salvadore."

Savvy frowned. "That's Savvy."

Dirk Fallows grinned. "Of course, Savvy. That's why we let her escape this morning. We knew they'd find her or she'd find them. The rest was easy."

Cruz lumbered across the floor, his shoulders hunched from the short ceiling. The trailer rocked slightly with each heavy step. He flopped onto the leather couch and the trailer groaned in protest. "But you still didn't get Ravensmith." His tone was mocking.

"I didn't expect to. That wasn't the plan. Eric is more a student of mine than he realizes. It would have been fatally naive of him to have risked his wife's and son's lives for a girl he didn't even know. Not at these odds. At least now we've separated him from his troops, not that they'd have been much help anyway against my men."

Cruz snorted. "We'd have stomped the shit out of them."

"What are you going to do with them now?" Savvy asked.

Fallows shrugged. "You can keep them. As payment for playing your part so well. The women look fit enough for your kind of work. The man, well, kill him."

"What about Ravensmith?"

"I've sent some men south to make tracks for him to follow. In a day or two we'll-"

"Where'd you get those fairy shoes?" Cruz interrupted, pointing at Savvy's feet. "I knew a nurse who wore shoes like that."

Fallows was impatient. "What difference does it make?"

Cruz stared at Fallows, his eyes darkly threatening. "'Cause I want to know. I get tired of hearing you talk about how clever you are."

Fallows flashed a splendid smile, like a politician who's been drafted to run for the presidency. "Savvy?"

Savvy smiled nervously, glancing back and forth between the two. "W-well, we tapped into a warehouse for some big department store. The Broadway. Sometimes I send Flex over in a wagon to bring something back."

Cruz grunted. "Why the fuck would you want sissy shoes like that? They ain't any good for walking."

"I don't walk much."

"Yeah, I guess not. You got everything you need right here, huh? If you ever decide to get rid of that faggot Flex, let me know. I might be interested."

"Uh, sure, Cruz. Right." He avoided Fallows' eyes.

"Well, Cruz," Fallows said, his smile still intact. "If we've satisfied your sartorial curiosity, maybe we can haul ass out of here."