Sic Semper Tyrannis (3 page)

“Don’t leave home without it,” replied Erik, never taking his eyes away from what was in front of him.  “The
katana’s
too big for close-work.  I left it back at the base.”

Pinner slowly opened the inner door, peering inside with his night vision goggles.  He looked like some kind of huge insect, his head covered in black cylinders and straps.  After a second or two looking around, he motioned with his left hand to follow and he stepped inside the darkened building.

Erik stepped through the door and took a knee, and faced right.  He held his rifle up and ready.  Ted stepped through behind Erik and faced left. 

“Anything?” Ted whispered.

“Negative,” said Pinner, working forward more confidently now.  He moved into the lobby and looked around.  “Place is
trashed
, though.  Looks like a group of people used this place as a landfill.”

Erik couldn’t see further than ten feet in front of him.  “This is creepy, man.”

“Yeah,” whispered Ted. 

Thunder split the air and Erik flinched. 
Good thing I didn’t have my finger on the trigger.  This is one hell of a storm.

“We’re clear!” called out Pinner’s voice from way off in the distance to the left.  Erik swung his head and rifle around but could see nothing.  “I checked the only two doors to this room, they’re locked from this side.”  His voice was closer now and Erik could hear footsteps approaching.

Ted switched on his rifle-mounted light and the white beam illuminated a jumble of trash and knocked over desks, chairs, ticket booths and what looked like a motorcycle.  “The hell is
that
, a Kawasaki?”

“Yeah,” said Pinner, emerging from the darkness into the beam of light.  He was carrying his rifle in one hand, his goggles flipped up on his helmet.  “All shot up.  Someone rode it in here but they left on foot.  There’s blood stains in the other corner, but no body.”  He pointed off to the right.  “Looks like the remains of a fire over there.  A good layer of dust on everything.  No one’s been here in a while.”

“You sure?” asked Ted.

Erik switched on his own flashlight and scanned around the room.  “Pinner’s right.  Look at our boot-prints.  There’s a layer of dust in here.  It’s thin, but it’s there.  No other prints.  Maybe people used this place right after everything went bad…and no one’s come through since?”

“Well then, let’s set up shop, boys.  Pinner get a fire going.  Erik, let’s break out some chow.”

“I think I saw a row of vending machines, other side of one of the doors,” Pinner said as he got on his knees and started to gather papers from the floor.  “Looked like people had tried to get through that door.  There’s scratch marks and dents and blood all over it.  One of those thick fire doors with the wire-mesh windows.  Glass is all busted out, but it’s still locked.”

“Think you can open it?” asked Erik.  He pulled out three MREs from his pack.  Salisbury Steak, Spaghetti and Meatballs, and Chicken Stew.  “’Cause I’d eat a dead alligator over another one of
these…”

“Oh, I’ll open it,” replied Pinner with a grin.  He scraped the knife in his hand with a chunk of rough quartz and after a few tries, succeeded in getting a few sparks to jump to the crumpled paper.

“Here,” Ted said, tossing a roll of cash register tape at Pinner.  “There’s a ton of these over there behind that tipped over ticket booth.  That’s the gift shop over there,” he pointed behind Pinner.  “We’ll have plenty of shit to burn.”

“Great, I’ll help you empty the vending machines,” said Erik.

When he and Pinner returned to the lobby, Ted had a nice-sized fire happily crackling away on register tape and travel brochures.  He sat just inside the ring of firelight, his back to the fire, and watched the front doors.  Outside, the lightning and thunder continued unabated, giving them glimpses of the world bathed in pink.

“Nice haul,” said Ted as Erik and Pinner dumped armfuls of junk food and snacks on the dusty floor near the fire.

“Well, it ain’t steak, but I’ll take me some Twinkies,” muttered Pinner.

The men gorged themselves on the convenience food and sipped water from canteens set out in the rain.  “There’s a lot more where this came from,” mentioned Pinner around a mouthful of peanut butter cracker. 

Erik nodded and took a swig of water.  “We should totally stock up before we roll outta here.”

“Agreed,” said Ted.  He moaned.  “God, I haven’t had Ho-Hos in years.  This stuff is pure shit, but
man
, it tastes so good after the last few months of MREs.”

“Amen,” said Pinner, raising his canteen in salute.

“You know,” said Erik, swallowing the last of a Rice Krispy Treat.  “It’s amazing how we took this stuff for granted.  You know,
before
.”

“Mmmhmmm,” murmured Ted.  He belched.  “Woulda
killed
for some of these back at the Freehold.”

“No joke,” replied Erik.

“You mind if I ask you a question, sir?”

“Go ahead, Pinner,” replied Ted.

“I’ve heard you guys talk about this ‘Freehold’ before.  The Captain never mentioned it in my briefing before he assigned me to you.  What is it?”

“Was
,” said Erik with a sad shake of his head.  He took a drink of water and leaned back against an overturned file cabinet and sighed.  “Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

Ted stared out the front doors again.  “Yeah,” he said in a wistful voice.  “Back before the lights went out.  Before all this shit hit the fan, before…”

“So, what was it?” asked Pinner.  He opened a SlimJim and took a bite. 

“It was our
home
, man,” replied Erik.  He looked into the small fire and the memories came flooding back.  That fateful day the power went off and Brin was out sunning herself on their apartment patio.  The impromptu pool meetings with the people who lived in the Colonial Gardens Apartment Complex.  Faces of friends, brothers in arms, during their fight for survival—Alfonse, Stan, old Bernie, Alan, and a score of others.  “Lotta people died back there…” he muttered.

“We
didn’t,” said Ted, turning around to look at Erik.  “Thanks to
you
.”  He glanced at Pinner.  “Sergeant, if this man hadn’t taken command the way he did when the power went out and organized our little community, I don’t think we would be here talking to you right now.”

“That so?” asked Pinner.  He looked at Erik and raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Erik said, slightly flustered.  “Ted could have done it—”

“But I didn’t.  I was still reeling from the prison break, remember?”  He ate a cookie and looked at Pinner.  “Then those ex-cons broke in and attacked Susan.”

“Your wife?” asked Pinner.

“Yeah,” said Erik in a flat voice.  “First man I ever killed.”

“How?” asked Pinner quietly.

“Dude almost took the guy’s head off with an honest-to-God
samurai
sword, that’s how.  Got some
mad
props for that one.”  Ted took a loud slurp of water from his canteen and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “I shot the guy’s partner, but Lieutenant Larsson here got first blood.  Went all Medieval on that guy’s ass.”  Ted shook his head.  “Damnedest thing I ever seen, that’s for sure.”

Pinner looked at Erik.  “Nice.  You use that?” Pinner said, gesturing at Erik’s
gladius. 
The sword lay on the floor.  The blade swam in the reflected glow of the fire.

“No,” said Erik with a smile.  “This is made for stabbing, for close-quarters stuff.  I remember I was showing Ted my collection and happened to have Brin’s family’s heirloom
katana
in my hands.”  Erik’s eyes glazed over as he remembered the traumatic events of that day.  “I heard her scream.  I didn’t even
think
.  Just ran right out there in the parking lot, saw this big guy getting ready to do God-knows-what to my wife…and cut him down.”

“Almost cut in
half
, more like,” muttered Ted.  Thunder rumbled again, but for the first time, it sounded more distant.

“What happened then?  Was this apartment the Freehold?”

“Not then,” said Erik.  He blinked.  “That happened after we were attacked in force.  Gang members blew up the gas station down the street and decided to take out our complex.  We fought back.  Lost some good people.”

“But we survived.  And word got out that we were people
not
to be fucked with,” added Ted.  “After that, we renamed the place The Freehold.”

“So there was a fight…” prompted Pinner.

“Yeah,” sighed Erik.  He put his candy bar down, half eaten.  “We had a good thing going.  We were collecting rain to drink, bringing in fish from the Gulf to eat—we were even starting gardens and training people for guard duty.  We were pretty organized.”

“Thanks to
you
,” said Ted with a face-splitting smile.

Erik shrugged.  “Someone had to be the leader I guess.  Anyway, I got voted out of that job pretty quick.”

“Yeah, then he became the Duke.”

“Oh come on, I thought we were past
that
nonsense,” complained Erik.

Ted laughed, a strange sound that echoed through the empty lobby.  “You ever want to piss ‘im off, Pinner, just call him
Duke
.”

“It’s from the Latin,
Dux Bellorum
.  War leader.  It’s what Lentz—”

“Who?”

“The guy that took over after I got voted off the island,” muttered Erik bitterly.  “He named me head of security and called me the Freehold’s
Dux Bellorum
.  Ted here picked up the chant and the next day everyone was calling me ‘Duke’.  It was ridiculous.”

“It was
earned
.  This guy organized our defenses and kept us from all getting killed during the Battle.”

“Aaanyway,” Erik said. “After all that, things were okay until we decided to take that boat on a fishing trip.”

“Yeah,” Ted said quietly.  “The
Tarpon Whistler.
  She was a good little boat.”

“That what you used to rescue the crew at the Marina?” asked Pinner, crumpling up a snack wrapper.  The noise was loud in the darkness.  “I heard about that.”

“Yeah.  By the time we got back to the Freehold, it was damn near burned to the ground.  The White Hand People beat us home and killed just about everyone we cared about.”

“The White Hand People…offshoot of the Brotherhood that’s causing so much trouble in the big cities, right?” asked Pinner.

“Yeah,” replied Erik bitterly.  “I guess so.”

Ted frowned.  “They were armed and had an inside informant. 
Grimes
.”

“Asshole used to
live
with us.  I—
we—
kicked him out because he wasn’t pulling his own weight.  I
knew
that would come back to bite us,” said Erik.

Pinner nodded.  “Yeah, I read the after-action.  Pretty nasty business.  A handful of you guys did make it though.  I remember seeing their names on the rosters in the civilian camp.”

“Yup,” said Erik.  “Hey, I wonder if Sonya had her baby?”

“Don’t know,” Ted said and took another swig from his canteen.  “Last I heard, she and Alfonse were leaving the camp and heading north.  Her family’s from Georgia, I seem to remember.”

“We’re the only ones that joined up.  Everyone else—the ones that survived—could be anywhere by now, I guess,” said Erik.

The conversation died an awkward death.  Erik kept his own thoughts to himself.  All he wanted to do was get Brin and get the hell north of all the fighting.  He wanted to make his way home, to his family’s cabin on the shores of Lake Ticonderoga.  He wanted to quit the army and
run
.  But he didn’t.  He couldn’t let Ted down. 

One day soon,
he promised himself,
Sue’ll be healed enough to travel.  When the Line is set up across the state, our debt will be paid in full.  Ted won’t have any reason to stick around and Captain Williams will have to let us go.  Then we’re heading north and not looking back.

CHAPTER 2

Exile

MALCOLM ABDUL RASHID GAZED through the large window and watched the city of Montreal descend into chaos.  He felt nothing.  It was not his city, not Chicago.  The buildings all looked different: older, colder, grayer.  Fires blossomed on the horizon.  Not caused by
his
rioters, but by Canadians who were starving.  America had stumbled and was dragging down her neighbor to the north.

“The fires, they grow worse,” observed the Egyptian Ambassador in a gloomy voice.