Commodity (22 page)

“It’s just fine like this,” I tell her.

I drink the tea and confirm with Chuck that there are only the four of them there.  He tries to get me to stay on at their camp, but I refuse—I have to keep looking for Hannah.  Chuck informs me of two other groups they’ve seen that are located nearby.

“Never seen any women with them, though,” Chuck says, “but like I said—we keep our distance.  I would have noticed Hannah if she was there though.”

“Poor girl,” Christine says softly.  “I wish we had known what those guys were up to sooner.”

“She was worried about you,” I tell her.  “She didn’t want to leave without warning you.  That’s on me.  I wouldn’t let her come back.  I couldn’t risk it.”

Christine looks at me for a long time.

“It’s okay,” she finally says.  “I get it.”

“It’s getting late,” Chuck says.  “Stay here tonight.  Get some decent food in you.  We’ll see what we can spare to send you on your way in the morning.”

“I got someone else with me,” I tell him.  “Is it all right if I bring her along?”

“Her?”  Chuck raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah.”

He keeps giving me the stink-eye.

“I just found her the other day,” I tell him.  “She was being harassed by a group of guys.”

“What happened to them?” he asks.

“They met with an untimely end,” I reply slowly.

Chuck laughs.

“Well, yeah!  Bring her on over!”

I call to Katrina, and she’s by my side a heartbeat later.  I’m fairly certain Sam’s eyes bulge out of his head.  In fact, Katrina is kind of looking at him out of the corner of her eye as well.

I introduce her to everyone, and Christine heaps the plates full of food and passes them around.  It’s not long before she and Katrina are talking recipes.  I enjoy the actual cooked meal and then steal myself off to the side of the common area for a cigarette.

Sam, surprisingly, joins me.

“I saw them,” Sam says quietly.

I stare at him as he shuffles his feet.  I’m pretty sure the kid has never uttered a word to me before.

“Who?”

“Caesar and Brett.”

“When?”

“About two weeks ago.”  He looks over his shoulder at Marco.  “I wasn’t supposed to go over there.”

“Over where?”

“Pretty much straight east of here,” he says.  “It used to be a pretty nice area, I think, but most of it’s collapsed.  There’s a big sign that says ‘FOX’ lying in the street.”

“The Fox Theatre?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs.  “Just a big sign—one that used to light up.”

“You saw them there?”

“Yeah,” he says with a nod.  “I heard them talking, and I think they must be staying in a school nearby.”

“Georgia Tech is near there.”  I think for a moment.  “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I’m not supposed to go that far away.”  Sam looks over his shoulder again.  “Marco’s always watched after me, you know?  I don’t always do the right thing.”

I take a slow breath and nod.  Sam’s not a stupid kid, but he seems a little slow on some things.  Marco usually does his talking for him.

“You won’t tell him I was there, will you?”  Sam’s face scrunches up, and he pleads with his eyes.

“I won’t tell him, Sam,” I say, “but I’m really glad you told me.”

He smiles.

I grab Chuck and pull him off to the side.

“Sam thinks he may have seen them,” I say.

“Sneaking around again, was he?”  Chuck grins.  “He’s a good kid, but I think he’s always had a short leash, ya know?  He likes to explore.”

“They might be near Georgia Tech.  I need to go check it out.”

“Pretty risky.”

“I don’t give a shit about the risk.”

“You’re gonna have ta play it smart with those guys,” Chuck says.  “I’ve seen you in action enough—you’re gonna want to bitch-slap first and ask questions later, but they’re too smart for that.  If you rush into it, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Maybe.”  I really don’t care.  If I have to die for Hannah, I’ll be in a better place than I am now.

“I ain’t bullshitting,” Chuck says.  He takes a step closer to me and points a finger in my face.  “You got that rage look in your eyes.  If she’s still with them, and you get yourself killed, what happens to her?  You gotta play this cool.  Christine likes Hannah.  Hell, I like her, too.  I don’t want her in that situation, but getting yourself killed isn’t going to help her.”

I pull a cigarette out of the pack and light it.  I know he’s right.  If I rush in, I won’t be able to get her out safely.  I don’t know who else Caesar has enlisted in his enterprise or what kind of people they are.  Once I find them, I’ll have to gather information before I make a move, and that’s going to take some time.

I take another drag off the cigarette, letting the smoke burn in my lungs.  Chuck is still staring at me, and I realize I haven’t responded to him.

“I’ll keep my cool,” I tell him, “at least until Hannah is safe.  I may need your help then.”

“Anything you want, brother.”

“Once I have her away from them, I’ll need someone to watch out for her for a while.”

We stare at each other for a moment, understanding one another.

“Gladly.”  Chuck holds out his hand, and we shake.  “When are you going to leave?”

“You got room for Katrina to stay here?  She’s on her own.”

“Sure.”  Chuck looks over to where Katrina is sitting with Marco and Sam.  “Looks like she’ll fit right in with the younger crowd.  I swear, Christine thinks we’ve adopted the boys.”

“I bet they appreciate that.”

“Sometimes.”

“You’re going to have to make sure no one sees her.”

“Yeah,” Chuck says with a nod, “I was just thinking that.  We’ve got decent cover here, but I’ll rig up something to make it better.  By the looks of it, I’ll get lots of help from the boys.”

“Good.”  I head back over to the fire, toss the cigarette into the flames, and crouch down in front of Katrina’s chair.  “I’m going to be leaving.”

“Oh, okay.”  She stands up.

“You’re staying.”

“What?”  She puts her hands on her hips, and Marco and Sam quickly excuse themselves.

“I’ve got a lead on them, Katrina,” I say, “the first real lead I’ve had in a long time.  I’m going after them, and you need to stay put.”

“I’m the reason you have a lead,” she reminds me.

“I know that, and I’m grateful.  That doesn’t mean you’re going to continue along on this ride.”

“I want to go!”  She glares at me, and I almost expect her to stomp her foot in protest.  She doesn’t, but her hands ball into tiny fists.

I sigh and stand back up.

“Let me make this really clear to you,” I say to Katrina. “I’m about to walk into a group of human traffickers.  Not just people who took the opportunistic approach after all this shit happened, but people who used to make money off of it before the shit hit the fan.  You aren’t going anywhere near there.”

“I might be able to help.”

“You might just get in the way.  Getting in the way is a lot like getting killed.  I’m sorry, Katrina.  You know I appreciate the help you’ve given me, but I want you to stay here.”

“I don’t even know these people.”

“Well, I do.  You’ll be safer with them than you would be on your own.  I don’t even know if I’ll make it back.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because if I can’t find her, I’m going to kill them all.”

The hike to Georgia Tech is only about an hour, but I’m trying to keep out of sight as much as possible.  That means staying off the roads.  I don’t see any signs of anyone as I reach the old Fox Theatre and its broken sign.  The whole street is in ruins, much like the rest of Atlanta.  This is the area where Sam said he saw Caesar and Brett, and though there are signs of looting, I don’t see any signs of people.

I head across the highway and onto the grounds of Georgia Tech.  The buildings are all flattened, making the campus look more like a collection of hills made of bricks and littered with pieces of the bleachers from the Bobby Dodd stadium.

Still no signs of people.

I stick to the outside of the campus, carefully checking around each pile of rubble for some sign of human habitation, but I find nothing, just more debris.  I circle the area again, going farther to the center of campus, but again, there is nothing of note.  It’s getting late.  I’m frustrated, and I’m about to give up completely.  Maybe Sam was wrong about the location.  Maybe he hadn’t heard them right about a school campus.  He’s a simple kid, and for all I know, he wasn’t anywhere near this area.

Maybe he even lied to me.

I don’t really believe that.  Sam doesn’t even seem to be capable of lying, but these are strange times, and people no longer behave as they used to.

Looking up at the sky, I realize there are only a couple of hours of daylight left.  I either need to find myself a place to sleep for the night, or I need to head back to Chuck and Christine.

I take one last look around the back of what I think used to be the old engineering building.  There aren’t any signs of people, but someone has definitely been through the area, looking for valuables.  Many of the chunks of brick and concrete have been moved alongside the remaining building.  There is also a small pile of wires coiled neatly off to the side.  As I check them out, I hear something near the street.

I duck behind a brick ledge that once decorated the front of the building.  Coming up the sidewalk are two men dressed in T-shirts with jackets tied around their waists.  They each have a large pack on their backs, and one of them carries a canvas bag that looks heavy.

I don’t recognize either of them.  One is short and in his mid-forties, and the other is tall and lanky with a baby-face—definitely younger than the short man, but I can’t determine his age.  I keep myself out of sight as they go by.

“I just hope this is enough,” the older man says.

“It’s gotta be,” the tall one replies.  “Two packs of D-cells, boxes of ammo—that’s all high demand shit.”

“Yeah, but Caesar’s prices keep going up.”

“He’s got the market cornered, and he knows it.”

I lick my lips as my heart starts to pound.  I can feel adrenaline rushing through me as I hear the older man speak Caesar’s name.  I wait for them to pass the brick ledge, then make my way along to the end of it, still crouching.  I watch them continue their course up Bobby Dodd Way, heading between the buildings instead of turning left with the street.

I follow as far behind as I dare.  I can’t risk being seen, but I don’t want to lose them either.  They’re both focused on the path ahead of them and their conversation, and they aren’t watching what’s going on around them, which works in my favor.  I get up a little closer, but can’t hear any more of their remarks.

They make their way toward a huge pile of rubble.  I’ve been in this area before, but the destruction of the building is so complete, I hadn’t gone close to it.  As they approach a large pile of debris, I hang back, peering out from around a pile of broken cement.

The older man reaches into the debris near a piece of dull red cloth.  I narrow my eyes as I watch him produce a cow bell on a string.  He rings it twice, and the rubble begins to shift.  A perfectly camouflaged door opens in the center of the pile.  A bearded man with a shotgun peers out before motioning the two men inside.

I stand slowly as they disappear into the huge mound of debris.  I blink several times, trying to make sense of what is before me.  I look around the area in front of the mound and realize it’s grassy, not concrete.  This area wasn’t a building at all, but a field.

They’ve constructed a camp out of trash.

I walk the entire perimeter, keeping myself out of sight.  Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can see that the rubble all around the area has been moved from its original location and pulled up tight against the collapsed buildings to form a barrier.  At a glance, it looks like any other building on the campus—crumbled and useless—but looking closer, I can see the deliberate placement of every item.

They’ve walled themselves in.

As I study the whole area closely, I find two other obvious entrances.  The first appears to have once been the entrance to a parking lot.  There are the remnants of a pay station and a gate.  The actual entrance is hidden but not as well as the one in the front where the two men entered.  I make sure I don’t get too close.  There are several places around that look like they could be used to guard the entrance.  I can’t see anyone actually guarding anything, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

It’s the second entrance that has me intrigued.

The building was once a fast-food chicken place.  It has been completely leveled except for the far wall, which butts up against the man-made wall of rubble.  There is plenty of cover, so I can get a lot closer to it.  I’m certain I’m in the cooking are of the restaurant, but none of the fryers or grills are in the wreckage.  They’ve likely been pilfered and taken into the main camp behind the rubble wall.

That’s where I find the other entrance.

It’s not constructed, per se, but looks more like a leftover, as if those who grabbed the useful restaurant items and took them inside forgot to fill in the hole again when they were done.  I don’t see any signs of recent activity—the area is covered in dust but not footprints.

I move closer, gun drawn, and try to remain silent.  The hole is about three feet wide and four feet tall—roomy enough to shove equipment through but not comfortable to walk.  I step inside, bracing myself in case I run into someone, but I don’t.

There’s a short tunnel beyond the entrance—about six feet long—and then a sharp turn.  I can’t see beyond it, so I make my way slowly through the tunnel to look.  On the other side, I pause.  I’m blocked by stacks of crates.  There’s only about a six-inch gap between them and the tunnel.

On the other side, I see movement.  I can’t see their faces, but I can hear two distinct voices.

“We need to inventory the rest of the canned goods and the bottled water.”

“I spent all fucking day yesterday doing inventory.  Get someone else to do it.”

“Everyone’s got their jobs, asshole.  This one is yours for now.  Choosing day is tomorrow, so maybe you’ll get something else.  For all your bitching, you’ll probably draw brown.”

“I don’t know why we’re not allowed to trade.”

“Because everyone would want to do the same things.  Now stop with the butt-hurt and get shit done.”

“This fucking sucks.”

“Feel free to get the fuck out, then.  You wanna try to live out there on your own again?  You’re welcome to it.”

“Caesar thinks he can order everyone around.”

“Caesar controls the pussy.  You want pussy?  Do your damn work.”

My hands start to shake.  I close my eyes and resist the urge to leap over the crates and beat both of them to death.  Collecting myself isn’t easy, and it takes me several moments to calm myself enough to focus again.

“There’s a whole skid of canned goods out by the main entrance.  Let’s go get it.”

The two of them leave, and I shove against the crate in front of me until the opening is large enough to squeeze myself through it.  The large room is full of shelves, all stacked high with supplies.  I look around briefly before heading to the door and peering out.

The storehouse opens up into a large green area.  There’s a fountain in the middle of it and small stations set up all around the fountain.  There are water jugs at one of them, and two men stand there, refilling water bottles from the jugs.  To the left of the water, there’s a table full of canned goods.  A man stands behind the table and collects something from each person who comes up to him—I can’t tell from here what it is—and then hands them a variety of cans.

There are other stations—one for batteries and propane, another for paper goods.  They circle the fountain and look much like the marketplaces I recall seeing in many small villages when I was overseas.

And there are men.

Dozens and dozens of them.

I’ve seen plenty of small packs of people as I’ve searched for Hannah but nothing even close to the number of people here.  There have to be at least a hundred of them out in the open and who knows how many sheltered away in the surrounding structures.  All men.

I still haven’t seen any women.  I look back and forth, but I still see nothing but men in the area.

Enough that I might not be noticed.

I step out of the door and into the common area, turn to the left, and walk with purpose.  I look around with my eyes, but keep my head forward and my pace steady.  I pass several people, but no one takes notice of me.  There are several small buildings, made mostly of plywood, but they’re well constructed and even have gutters with barrels to collect the rain.

“Right this way, gentlemen.  The stable is just over here.”

I know the voice immediately and have to resist the urge to draw my weapon.  I slow my pace and glance sideways to see Brett walking with the two men I’d followed to the entrance.  Changing my course slightly, I keep behind him as he approaches one of the small structures and opens the door.

“We have a couple options for you guys, so there’s no need to wait.”  Brett leads them out of my sight through a door guarded by two armed men.

The front of the plywood building looks much like a house with no windows.  The guards out front are the only thing that sets it apart from other, similar structures.  I pass them by without a look and then glance around to make sure no one is looking in my direction before I veer off and head around the back of the building.  I have to turn sideways to make it past the rubble wall behind me.  I can’t see or hear anything from the back, so I move slowly to the corner.

Around the side of the structure, there’s light coming from a crack in the wall where two pieces of plywood don’t quite line up.  I check again to make sure no one is watching me and then duck behind a rain barrel and crouch low.

Looking inside, I can see the entrance and most of the main room.  There’s a large couch against the wall and an opening on the far side that leads into another room I can’t see.  There are two women inside in short, tattered dresses.  One has long, dark hair and the other has closely-cropped brown hair.

Not Hannah.

Brett grabs one of the girls by the arm and pulls her close to the older man.

“How does this one strike ya?”

“She’s fine…real fine.”  He makes a show of walking around her, running his hand over her backside and then up her arm.  “Can I take her back to the barracks?”

“No, sir,” Brett says as he shakes his head.  “There’s a couple of rooms right here.  You can use one of those.  Just remember there’s always someone out front, so don’t get too rough with them.  You aren’t the only customers tonight!”

He hauls the other woman over to the tall, lanky man, and both pairs head off behind the wall and into separate rooms.  Brett follows.  After a minute, he comes out dragging another woman.

He pulls her roughly over to the far side of the main room, giving her a shove toward a chair where she sits with her back toward me.  She shifts uncomfortably.  Her dress is longer but just as tattered as those of the other women.  Her hair is long and unkempt.

I can barely see through the crack, but I know it’s her.  Everything about her is etched into my memory.  I know the tilt of her head, the curve of her neck, and the shape of her shoulders all too well.

Hannah.

I reach out and press my fingers to the plywood wall.  She’s no more that fifteen feet away from me.  Brett stands in front of her with his arms crossed.

“Next time we have visitors, I expect you to present yourself with the other girls, you hear me?”

Hannah’s head bobs up and down in a silent reply.  Brett pulls his arm back and smacks her across the face.

My legs straighten reflexively as my hands ball into fists.  As Chuck’s words scream in my head, I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself back down to a crouch.  I can’t give myself away, not yet.

“Fucking answer me!”

“I’m sorry.”  The voice doesn’t even sound like her, not really.  It’s the same, but the tone is all off.  “I wasn’t feeling well, and Mandi said—”

“Mandi isn’t in charge here, is she?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t give a shit what she says, and I certainly don’t care how you’re feeling!”

Brett pulls a bottle out of a cabinet on the wall and holds it up to his lips.  He takes a long drink, staring at her the whole time.

“You’re hardly worth it now, you know?” Brett says with a sneer.  “Fat, ugly bitch.  It’s only watching you cry that makes it worth the effort.”