“I THINK SUN TZU MIGHT HAVE SOME HELPFUL ADVICE on this matter.”
They were sitting now in Chumboy’s room up on the top floor, talking things over. When they’d crowded into the room to try and come up with a plan, Chumboy had told Susun that when they had gotten set up in the hotel, he had insisted on a room on the top floor, telling Susun he’d always wanted a penthouse suite.
Slaught glanced over at Chumboy. “Who has advice?”
“Sun Tzu. You know, the general that kicked ass all over China, worked for some king, around the 6th century BC.”
“Okay, cut to the chase.”
“Sun Tzu said all war is deception.”
Slaught said, “Did this Sun Zoo guy have anything to say about fighting the ‘devil’s work’? What does that even mean?”
“It’s ‘Tzu,’ and me, I think the approach speaks for itself. Look, these guys are doing their whole stealth thing out there, going all ninja in the northland, let’s just ride out and meet up with them. Find out what they got. Invite them back. Get them on our turf. Country mouse advantage.”
Susun, shaking her head, asked, “Are you crazy?”, saying it more as a statement than a question. Susun didn’t wait for an answer, saying that if it was Talos who had ambushed their bus, then they had no idea what they were up against. They hadn’t seen these guys in action, how they had just up and shot the driver of the bus she’d been on. And then there’d been the sound of the driver hitting the glass window, making that thwapping sound, and then everybody yelling, and they didn’t care, just jammed the doors shut from the outside. Just like that. Then smacking the side of the bus, like they were closing up camp for the winter. She said, “If they’re that close maybe we should be getting ready to get out of here.”
Slaught shook his head. “This is our home now, we aren’t going anywhere.”
“But go out and invite them in? That’s insane.”
Chumboy said, “That is exactly what Sun Tzu would recommend, that you lead your enemy into thinking you were nuts, when in fact you really have things under control.”
Slaught was nodding. “Then I guess before we roll out the welcome mat we better get things under control. Maybe we should call a community meeting?”
Larose looked surprised. “Community meeting? Have we had one of those before Johnny?”
“Not yet. First time for everything.”
“But won’t it get people stirred up over what might be nothing?”
“You heard Chum’s Auntie, these guys look serious. People should be told.”
“Clarification, she didn’t say ‘serious,’ she said the devil’s work.” Susun was scared now, thinking they were taking this way too lightly. She looked right at Slaught, said, “Don’t mess with these guys.”
Slaught started to make for the door but Susun said, “Hang on a minute. What? That’s it? What if you ride up to those bastards and they just pull out their guns and that’s that?”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it, for now we got to tell everyone, so they can make up their own minds.”
“This is serious,” she was insisting now, her hand on his arm, stopping him from leaving, “you gotta believe me, these guys are coming here to do us harm, serious, bad harm.” She was meaning it, letting him know she’d seen it up close and he was reading things wrong. He liked the feel of her hand on his arm, she had a strong grip, and she was staring right into him, now saying, “Seriously. This can only be bad.” She looked so sure, almost looking like she was going to cry, her eyes vivid and blue, and him wondering if he would regret not listening to her, she said, “I can tell, everyone looks up to you guys, they’d listen to you.”
“It isn’t my job to tell them what to do. Now let’s put it to them and see what happens, okay? You want to take the infirmary and rooms along the east end of the building, ask everybody you find to meet in the dining room. You guys do the workbay. I’ll hit the dining room and basement.”
Susun protested, saying it was a bad idea, thinking people might not respond so well to her, after all she was a newcomer and they probably all knew by now that she had locked herself in the bathroom and stole Slaught’s sled. She told him she didn’t know her way around. Slaught told her to follow the vents, that she should do just fine.
“So you liked Sun Tzu’s approach, eh?” Chumboy said to Slaught.
“Yeah, but I think I’m going a little Clint Eastwood on this too.”
Chumboy said, “Dirty Harry?” looking worried, but Slaught shook his head, saying, “Might stick in your craw Chum, but I’ve always preferred the western.”
Susun was surprised at how many people actually lived in the hotel, wondering what they did all day that she hadn’t seen them. She knocked on a few doors, some still with room numbers, thinking of it way back in the day, with chambermaids and a lobby full of rich mining men coming in from out of town. Must have been something. But that was a long time ago, before the silver was gone, before the town died, and way before the winter decided it was staying.
She’d rounded up over a dozen people, and now there had to be over fifty crammed into the dining room. She said to Tiny that she couldn’t believe how many were there but he said, “You kidding me, I feed these people, I thought there was more.”
Chumboy said there were more but some were out on scrounge patrol.
“Scrounge patrol?” asked Susun.
“Everyday, whether we need to or not,” Chumboy answered. “Gotta get our grub and gear some way. These days, we are having to travel too far afield to get it though.” Chumboy explained they kept a big list down in the workbay and the team would look it over before heading out, going through the region, quadrant by quadrant, hoping to find what they needed. Sometimes bringing back stuff they thought might be helpful. “Johnny tells them though, you bring shit into my yard and you’ll never get on patrol again.”
“Seriously? It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal.”
“Remember how your digs looked? That was not right. A civilized person could not live with that amount of crap and chaos.”
“Hey, that wasn’t my choice, trust me.”
“I’m just saying you’ve gotta have some order. Like what would happen if one of our scroungers brought back a fancy blouse or something for his girlfriend but forgot the beer? Know what I’m saying here?
“And so Slaught just lays down the law?”
Larose got into it now, joining them against the wall. “Well, basically yeah, you gotta have rules and a leader. Johnny’s the man. What do you think we are, a bunch of anarchists?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. You are definitely anarchists. You live in a commune and spend your time stealing from the government. What do you call that?”
“Justice and the redistribution of wealth,” Slaught answered, leaning into her a bit as he passed by them, heading up to the front. She watched him turn and sort of settle himself into the role of head honcho, getting comfortable with it, sort of squaring himself off to look tough but at the same time raising his eyebrows at the number of people crowding in front of him. Some of them were sitting at the round tables, like they were out for a drink together, more leaning along the paneled walls, a few kids sitting cross-legged up along what used to be the bar. She thought Slaught was maybe surprised at how many people there were, a bit unsure about what was coming, but then he started to talk.
“Okay, folks. This is our first community meeting, and by the looks of it, we’re going to have to start having some more, there’s getting to be a fair number of us here. I’m Johnny Slaught, case some of you haven’t met me yet, and I’m sort of the unofficial spokesman for this group of reprobates and outlaws.”
“And anarchists,” Chumboy offered from the back.
“Them too,” Johnny said. “Now, we have our first serious decision to make so I want everyone to listen up while I lay out the situation, think on it a minute, and then throw your ideas at me. Sound like a plan?”
No one really said anything, people looking a little unsure, having no idea what was coming—food shortage, maybe some kind of sickness?
A kid around eight, sitting cross-legged in the front with his mom and dad, said, “We don’t have to go back to school do we?”
“Uh, well, it’s not a bad issue to talk over, and maybe we’ll get to that in some other meeting but not this one,” Slaught said, smiling as the kid did some weird little victory squirm from his spot, then adding, “This is a bit more serious than that. We got some trouble headed our way, some serious trouble.”
Slaught waited, letting it sink in a minute, getting people’s attention. “There is a small squad of government types in the neighbourhood. Sounds like they are probably from Talos. Most of you probably ran into Talos during the evacuations, they were running the show. I think probably by now they run pretty much everything, jails, border security, transportation, the whole nine yards.”
“So what the hell does the government do now?” It was an old guy sitting at the back. Slaught thought his name was McLaren.
“Write cheques to Talos?”
“Goddamit,” the old guy almost spitting, Slaught thinking it didn’t take him long to get ramped right up, “those corporations were already taking over everything before things went to hell in a handbasket, and now they’re poking their noses around up here. Christ, we just wanted to left in peace after all that turmoil a couple years back, rounding everybody up. And now you tell me they’re back for more?”
“Looks to be the case, yeah,” Slaught answered.
“How do we know it’s them?” McLaren asked. “There’s been other fellas running around out there.” Then nodding towards Melinda and her baby, added, “Few of them showed up here after all.”
“Well, that’s true, but from the description we got, sounds like Talos, new sleds, not old beaters like most of us are using. Plus, they’re traveling in a group. Now we’ve had a few stragglers ourselves, but there are seven adults, that just seems unusual. And why’d they be up here is the other question. We’d heard rumours a year or so back of some final clean outs south of here, people down around the border but still inside the Territories. Talos guys come into an area, sometimes with a military back-up, find any hold-outs and give them twenty-four hours to get out. Guess most of ’em go because otherwise their places are torched, everything, vehicles, homes. Might be hard to believe but that’s what we’ve heard.”
Someone scoffed, muttered, “The government can’t do that.”
“You wouldn’t think so, but that’s what we’re hearing. And technically, it’s Talos doing it. Then Talos goes in and claims that the chunk of real estate belongs to the government, and so any houses are there illegally. Get the picture—just a way to keep people out. So refusing to leave equals resisting arrest.” He shrugged, “That’s what people told us anyhow.”
“So what else do we know about these fellas heading our way?” McLaren asked.
“Sound like they’re probably armed to the teeth,” Slaught said.
Someone’s hand shot up. “Are we well armed?” It was Larose’s young fella Shaun, eighteen years old and a good six feet of testosterone. Wasn’t really the direction Slaught wanted to take the conversation, not yet anyway. Before Slaught could answer though a woman stood up, her dark hair a bit graying, pulled back in a tight ponytail.
“What kind of question is that?” She didn’t wait for an answer, even though the young lad looked like he had one for her. “I mean, we should be getting ready, right, they are probably here to take us to the City. To rescue us. It wouldn’t take me twenty-four hours to get ready.”
The place erupted at that. Some people shouting, one guy saying he couldn’t believe she’d say that, and others turning to their neighbours to say stuff.
Slaught held up his hands. “Okay, whoa.” Heads turned back to him. “Look, first off, everyone can speak their mind here without getting shouted down. I guess if we are gonna have rules, that’s the first one. Now, let’s just back up to what this lady here had to say, what’s your name ma’am?”
The woman said “I’m Sheila Merrill, from Henwood Township, just up the highway from here.”
Johnny nodded, remembering the place, maybe a dozen houses and a store that was also a post office and liquor store. “Okay, Mrs. Merrill, I have to be straight up with you and tell you I don’t think they are here to save us. They don’t seem to have a way to take anyone out, they sound armed to the teeth, and they are sitting up there by the old dam on the highway just checking things out. Way too cautious to be a rescue squad. Now I don’t know what kind of experience you had back in the evacuation period, but some of us got the impression that those Talos fellows would just as soon leave us by the side of the road to die. I’m thinking we gotta handle this one right.”
“That’s ridiculous. You don’t have a spit’s worth of sense. You people wouldn’t leave,” she was pointing her finger at Slaught, her voice rising a bit each time she finished a sentence. “They tried to help you, but you were all too stubborn, and now you’re stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, with no police and no doctors, living day to day. That’s no way for children to live. You have elderly people here, sick people, this is a ridiculous situation.”
“Hey lady, you’re here too you know.” It was Larose’s lad again.
“Her name’s Mrs. Merrill,” Larose barked over at his son.
She turned on Shaun. “I’m here because my husband wouldn’t leave the house that had been his father’s house. It was insanity, thinking we could hold out until things changed. Well, I’ll tell you what happened, the government walked away on him, on us, finally, fed up with him. Three weeks after they pulled out, he had a stroke. Died right there in the living room.”
“Where he wanted to die. Better dying in your own home than as a slave down in the City.”
Slaught shot Larose a look saying ‘can’t you get your young’un to shut the fuck up’ and said, calm like, “Listen Che, the lady is just telling us her story, okay, no need for freedom or die right yet. I know some people had a rough time of it, my only point, right here and now, is that I’m not sure the Talos folks touring around our neighbourhood are friendly.”
“Well I think if you feel that way Mr. Slaught then perhaps you are not fit to be our so-called unofficial spokesman. We need someone impartial and skilled at negotiating.”
“Well, you might have a point Mrs. Merrill. I certainly didn’t go looking for this job, just sort of fell in my lap. And you’re right, I’m not much of a negotiator. So if we want to stop things here and settle that first, if a bunch of you are feeling that way…”
“Wait a minute, I have to say something.” It was Susun, standing away from the wall so people could see her, hands dug into her jean pockets. “You know Mrs. Merrill, I thought the same way you do. When the final eviction orders came, I was working as a midwife, and Talos kept me busy nursing folks till the very last bus out of Englehart was ready to go. At the last minute, our driver got sick and we had to stop, just up the road a ways.”
Slaught was thinking it was taking her a long time to get to the punch line, but still, people were listening. She had a nice, quiet way of talking.
“When they came, those government men, Talos or whoever they were, on their skidoos, it was night time and it was damn cold. It was hard to see, there were only the lights from the skidoos, shining into the bus, making it hard to see and they were revving their motors, circling around, and then one guy came on, said, all sort of formal like, ladies and gentlemen, my name is John Slaught. Then he shot the driver, jammed the door and left us stranded there in the cold. Most of the people on that bus died from the cold.”
Everybody shot a glance over at Johnny, standing there now, arms crossed, frowning as the story went along, wondering why she hadn’t told him that. That seemed like a fucking important detail to leave out.
Nobody was saying anything though, just looking at her. Slaught was thinking her delivery was pretty good, but with kind of an abrupt ending, guess that’s how it felt though. Maybe she should have cleared up the fact that it wasn’t really him, some people looking back and forth between him and her, unsure. Mrs. Merrill wasn’t too sure what to say and looked over at Slaught. He shrugged.
“Not sure what that is about, though I have heard that there are some rumours out there. I always figured they were tied to the original incident, but maybe they are hanging all kinds of things on me now, I don’t know. I know this whole Wintermen bullshit has kinda got out of control over time. But that isn’t the issue here. What’s important, really important folks, is that Susun here says that these guys that are in our neighbourhood right now sound like they have the same sleds as the guys who killed all those folks on the bus.”
“Look Johnny,” said McLaren “this is a hell of a thing you and your boys have pulled together here, and we really appreciate it. I’m one hundred percent behind you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. Just tell us what to do, I assume you have some sort of plan don’t you?”
But Mrs. Merrill wasn’t finished. “Why are we asking him what his plan is? Asking him what we should do like he was our elected leader. I never voted for this man. And I think, in light of what we’ve just been told, those government men are probably coming to get him. He’s a wanted man for god’s sake.”
“Look Mrs. Merrill, you might have a point about the whole election thing, but it hasn’t really been an issue until now. Up until now there weren’t too many of us and we just sort of settled into this way of doing things. And as far as them coming for me, you may be right again. That’s why I’m going to go see them first.”
Mrs. Merrill tried to respond, but the old guy turned to her, cutting her off. “Enough from you,” he said, “we got a crisis here so we better deal with it now. Go ahead, let’s hear this plan of yours.”
“Well, it’s going to take all of us. My part is easy, a few of us guys are going to go out and meet up with this crew and bring them in. The rest is up to you guys.” He scanned the crowd, looking for a couple of faces, not seeing them. “Don’t we have a few theatre types here?”
Someone pointed over their shoulder at two guys in their early twenties slouched against the back wall. Jordan Barzman and Jeff Millen. They’d shown up soon after the guys had the hotel up and running, Jordan telling everyone they’d been out at their A-frame south of Cobalt, keeping an eye on the modest grow-op they’d been nurturing along, when the last sweep of the Talos recon crews found them. The officer in charge had told them to “Get their shit together” because they were being charged with using too much hydro, the fine was five grand and since it was pretty clear two assholes like them didn’t have the money, they were heading for a tidy little prison term. Jeff, the dark haired one, had said “Hate to break it to you smiley, but we aren’t going anywhere,” and then the officer had said to his buddy “I don’t have time to waste on this shit, I’m out of here,” but the other guy had said, no, they were supposed to bring everybody back to Central, even pieces of shit, and so then Jordan said, “But what about the magic word dude?” Jordan explained that at that point the Talos guys beat the crap out of them, set fire to their house and then just left them there.
“Yeah,” Jeff answered, standing up and looking around as if he’d been caught sleeping, “we were in a theatre troupe, The Acid House Players. But it was, like, well, a hobby.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Slaught said, “cause you boys are going to take charge and implement our plan.”
It was Jordan now, looking nervous. “Uh, like, what plan would that be exactly?”
“We’re going to be putting on a play.”
“A play? What kind of play?”
“It’s called The Welcome Party. I sort of got the idea from a Clint Eastwood movie.”
Chumboy asked, “Which one?”
“High Plains Drifter.”
“The welcome to hell one?”
“Well, it’s the devil out there isn’t it?”