Ever Onward (27 page)

“What kind of accident?”, Eddy
asked.

Gus frowned. “A sudden fire, a boat
sank, in a few cases, beatin’s.”

Flame snorted. “Sounds like this
Chisolm plays rough!”

Brad stood up. “But that was before
the Change. Frozen lobster tails aren’t exactly in great demand
these days.”

Josh studied his pipe. When he did
speak, his words created a silence that hurt the ears. “Slaves are.
Especially female ones.”

Gus looked at Josh with wonder in his
eyes. “How did you know?”

“You said two men and a woman were in
the truck, but only the men were armed. We’ve seen the same sort of
thing before.”

“On a road-block up in Vermont.”, Eddy
put in. “Some guys had a girl chained in their camper.”

Gus glanced from Tina to Flame and
back to Tina, a look of worry on his weathered face. “That girl
they had with them. I saw her hands through the
windshield.”

“What was wrong with them?”, Tina
asked.

Gus reached out and gently patted her
arm. “They were tied, little lady. Tied to the wheel.”

Beneath the waxing moon, the three men
watched the two boys and Billy run with the dogs along the beach.
Gus was bustling about inside heating water on his woodstove. He
had a large tub he used for lobsters and both Tina and Flame were
inside getting ready for their first hot bath in two
weeks.

“Doesn’t sound too good,” Brad said,
shaking his head and pouring another cup of coffee. Gus had
produced a bottle of rum to sweeten the brew and Brad helped
himself to that as well. Eddy nodded, holding out his mug for a
refill. He skipped the coffee. “It didn’t take long for everything
to hit the fan, did it? I mean, its been less than a month and
people are already keeping slaves!”

Brad shook his head. “I can’t believe
that. A few sadistic bastards maybe, but not everyone!”

“What do you think Snake was after?”,
Eddy put in. “Tina, that’s what. Just like those guys back in
Vermont. Christ, Brad, with civilization down the tubes, who’s to
stop a gang of assholes from doing whatever they like? Before long
things could look like a bloody Mad Max movie!”

Brad turned to Josh. “You’re the
history teacher. What do you think?!”

Josh sighed. “It’s happened before,
many times, but never on such a large scale. When the Roman Empire
fell nearly two thousand years ago, all of Europe went with it.
It’s a sad but well documented fact that when law and order go,
people quickly revert back to barbarism. Not everyone right away,
but it only takes a few to start things sliding backwards.” Josh
drew on his pipe, then continued. “Think about what happens when
the police go on strike, or there’s a major power-out. It doesn’t
take long, either. Look at us. We are all armed to the teeth; we
all expect the worst of any strangers we meet. Others will do the
same. In the end it all depends on the personality of the
group.”

“The good guys against the bad,” Eddy
said.

Josh smiled. “Its a bit more
complicated than that. When it comes right down to it, most people
are somewhere in between. Myself included. Circumstances influence
each of us.”

Brad shook his head. “Okay, I agree,
but only up to a point. We carry guns to defend ourselves. Most
people will do that from now on. But that doesn’t mean most people
will accept slavery!

“You’re right, Brad, most wont. But as
time goes by that will probably change too.”

“Why?”

Josh scratched his ear. “Because the
market for slaves will expand. Right now its limited to a few
sadistic bastards, but soon there will be other reasons besides
sex.”

“Like what? To pick
cotton?”

Josh shook his head. “Maybe not
cotton, but something pretty close. Remember, we now live in a
world without power. No lights, no electricity. I don’t know how to
fix it, do you? In six months the only food available will come
from cans or what we grow or hunt ourselves. For now we’ve got
plenty of machines and the gas to make them run, but who is going
to fix them when they break? Who is going to make more when they’re
all used up?

He pointed at the oil lamp casting its
warm glow over the deck. Summer moths flitted around it, drawn by
its light. “As time goes on, hands will replace machines. Some will
be willing to do the work themselves and some won’t. As in the
past, the powerful will control the weak, and the shit jobs will be
done by slaves.”

“Not everyone will be like that!”
There was anger in Brad’s voice. “Would you keep a
slave?!”

“No, I wouldn’t, but then I’m not
living alone. I’ve family and friends around me. But what about
some lonely survivor living on a farm or in a shack by the sea.
Along comes a fella with two or three women tied up in his truck.
That nice, kind, right-thinking farmer would be sorely tempted to
buy or trade for an extra pair of hands, if only to have someone to
share the loneliness with. In time they might even come to love
each other, but the ‘market’ for slaves, especially females, will
continue to grow.”

“Shit,” Brad whispered, pouring
himself a straight shot of rum. “When you put it that way, I might
buy one myself --- if only to free her!”

Josh nodded. “And the market won’t
only be limited to female slaves. What about a community with more
women than men? A young male slave might find a willing buyer there
too.”

“Christ, Josh!”, Eddy put in. “You
make it sound so bloody natural!”

Josh relit his pipe, warming to the
subject despite its cruel contents. “Less than two hundred years
ago, Eddy, it was natural. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t nice, but
it was done just the same. Remember, brains thought up
civilization, but slaves built it. Egypt, Greece, Rome were all
built with the blood and sweat of conquered nations. Even the U.S.
The Civil War was fought over slavery and that wasless than two
hundred years ago. In the twentieth century, machines replaced
slaves, making slavery unnecessary. Now in the twenty-first the
machines are failing. Soon, very soon, they will be
gone.”

Flame, standing in the doorway with a
towel wrapped about her, smiled at Josh. “You give one hell of a
lecture, professor. Makes me almost wish I’d stayed in school.”
Still dripping from her bath, the thin flannel clung to her
body.

Josh smiled. “Sorry about that. I
didn’t mean to make a speech.”

“Oh, I liked it,” she said, pulling
the towel tighter. “Especially that part about the horny farmer.
After all, nobody likes to sleep alone.” Then she was gone back
inside, leaving the three men staring after her.

Eddy winked at Brad. “She’s still
trying to hook you, Josh. Playing both you and Brad like a couple
of game fish.”

Brad reddened. Though it wasn’t
supposed to be known, Brad had slept with Flame twice since their
little talk on Mt. Washington. The first time had been that very
night at Lakes of the Clouds Hut. After the moon had set she had
quietly crawled into his sleeping bag. At first Brad had tried to
resist, but need soon got the better part of valor. She had come to
him again several nights later. Both times in the morning she acted
like nothing had happened. That was nearly two weeks ago. Since
then her ‘visits’ had stopped. Clearly she wasn’t in love with him.
Brad was relieved to find that he felt the same way about her. They
were friends, and that seemed to be enough.

Both Eddy and Josh, however, knew
about the two late night ‘visits’, and Eddy delighted in teasing
Brad every chance he got. It was also clear that Flame had now set
her cap for Josh. She went out of her way to be nice to him,
flirting openly. Brad was also relieved to find that he wasn’t the
least bit jealous. He and Flame were good friends and had been
casual lovers, but they weren’t in love. In this ‘Brave New World’,
what developed between Josh and the beautiful red-head was none of
his business.

That said, he found himself watching
her walk away with hungry eyes. So much for
rationalization.

Og suddenly bounded up the rickety
steps. Billy and the two boys followed. Princess brought up the
rear, her nose constantly testing the wind for strangers. “Hey,
dad,” Jessie called. “Billy says he’s got a cousin living in Bar
Harbor. Says she’s married with two kids.”

“That so, Billy?”

“Sure is, Mr. Williams. Beth, Uncle
Jim’s daughter. I only met her a couple of times. But she seemed
nice. I guess now...”

“I guess now we’d better have a look
at Bar Harbour.” Josh put a hand on his former student’s arm.
“Don’t give up hope, Billy.”

Billy smiled. “I won’t, Mr.
Williams.”

Josh held the young man’s arm. “And
Billy, call me Josh.”

Chapter 22
: ‘THE HALL OF THE FISHER
KING’

Seal Cove

Maine July
21

“You really mean to go to Bar
Harbor?”, Gus asked.

Josh looked at the weathered little
man. “After what you told us about this Chisolm, I was hoping to
avoid it. Now we have no choice. One of our own may still have
family there.”

“Then I’d better come with you.
Chisolm is a slimy bastard, but I know the way he
moves.”

Josh smiled. “You’re more than welcome
to come along, Gus, all the way back to Crown Point if you
want.”

Gus looked surprised. “Me, leave the
sea and go traipsing off to the mountains? I’d be like a fish out
of water!”

Josh placed a hand on the old man’s
shoulder. “Lake Champlain is a hundred miles long, Gus, but let’s
take it one step at a time. First, we’ll have a look around Bar
Harbor, then you can decide.”

A half hour later they all piled into
the vans. Gus was carrying an old bolt-action Enfield that looked
like it had been made decades before World War I.

“My great grand daddy’s!”, Gus beamed.
“Kept it on my boat in case sharks came around. Aint fired the
damned thing in years. Still, since we’re going to see John
Chisolm, seems like the right thing to bring along.”

“Mind if I have a look?”, Brad
said.

Gus handed him the ancient carbine.
Brad shook his head as he saw the pitted metal. When he forced open
the stiff bolt, it came apart in his hand. After giving the rifle
back, he opened a small cabinet in the Westfalia and took out a
stubby little handgun. It was the Mustang 9 mm Pocketlite that had
belonged to Bert. “Here you go, Gus. Shove this in your pants and
try not to shoot off anything important.”

Gus chuckled, “It’d take something
bigger than this popgun!”

Brad then reached under the seat and
pulled out the heavy Overland Coach gun Josh had picked up back in
New York. Its chrome-plated twin barrels and open hammers gleamed
in the sunlight. He broke it open and shoved in two 12 gage shells
loaded with #2 shot. “This do? We’ve got two of them.”

Gus grinned, his store-bought teeth
nearly as dazzling as the crome-plated cannon. “Shee-yit! Chisolm
better watch his ass now!”

The drive to Bar Harbor was
spectacular. The road followed the rugged coast, then cut over the
small granite mountains dotted with dark, twisted pines and
outcroppings of white and pink quartz. Winding their way down to
the east side of the peninsula, they stopped at a lookout above the
bay. The picturesque sea-town lay before them like a scene out of
Melville’s Moby Dick. Josh almost expected to see a Yankee Clipper
anchored in the harbor. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps
John Chisolm would have a leg carved out of whalebone and look a
lot like Gregory Peck.

What he did see was a fancy looking
yacht tied up near a large rectangular building built on the edge
of the sea. Beyond that a beautiful two masted sloop rested at
anchor in the harbor.

“That’s Matthew Bridger’s ship!”, Gus
said excitedly, pointing at the large sailboat. “What the hell’s he
doing back here?”

“Let’s go ask him,” Josh
replied.

They moved slowly into town. By now
everyone knew the drill by heart. Flame was out front on her
Harley. Josh followed close behind, with Brad (and now Gus), riding
shotgun. Eddy’s van with the boys and dogs came next. Hanging back
in the rear was Billy and Tina in the tow-truck. If the ones up
front ran into any trouble, the heavy truck was to be their
‘Cavalry Charge’.

Bobby’s welding skills had
come in handy. Tina, a pistol-grip shotgun in her hand, sat in a
deep swivel office chair Bobby had welded behind the cab. A similar
shotgun and Earl’s old deer rifle were in a bracket beside her
chair. She was protected on the front and the sides by thick sheet
metal. Cut in these were what looked like overlong open mail-slots.
Gun ports for Tina to shoot through. The high backed chair was
steel plated on the rear and had a seat belt. The small group had
learned the hard way to be prepared for unfriendly
surprises.

Bar Harbor was a tourist town. Built
on a slope leading down to the water, its main street was lined
with quaint little shops and boutiques designed to draw the female
of the species like a moth to a flame. Carved benches and church
pews were stationed outside for the following males to wait while
the age-old ritual of ‘Shopping’ took place. If the trailing mates
were lucky, a bikini-clad sprite may wander by, giving them
something to ponder besides the pigeons in the park.