American Apocalypse IV - Chapter 1b - by nova

I wanted to say "Go to Disneyland." Instead I looked around, some of the houses weren't burning like they should. Others were roaring. There wasn't much of a breeze other than what the fire was creating on its own.

I told him "You know if that truck runs?"

"Yep." He hesitated, then said "I should. It's my truck."

I looked at him and he looked at me. We both knew what was being decided. He didn't look too worried. In fact he grinned at me and said "Make up your mind youngster. Time is a wasting." The last part of what he said decided it for me. I didn't have time to mess around and I knew my mechanical knowledge was next to nil. So I asked him "Think you can give me a lift to Piketon?"

He laughed and said "Might as well. Ain't going to be shit left around here once the breeze starts up. Let me gather up some things and we can get going." He got up, went through the screen door and I heard him clumping around inside. I was sitting on the porch railing and I looked down at Woof and the dogs and said "Feeling like riding for a change Woof?" He thumped his tail a couple times so I guess he was down with it. I heard Old Guy come clumping back towards the door and I eased off the porch rail. No sense in being stupid. An old guy can kill you just as dead as a young one.

I was surprised at we had decided to bring. Some old belt that looked like the original model for the WWF champion belt and a pair of gloves that were a mix of metal scales and some kind of leather. They looked even older than the belt. I asked him "You a welder?'

"Naw. I've done some blacksmith work once upon a time. Looks like my skills are going to be needed again."

I nodded. It made sense to me. I asked him "You got a name?"

"Yep. Thursday."

That puzzled me. At first I thought he meant he was getting his name on Thursday. Them it dawned on me. I said questioningly "Thursday?"

He replied "Yeah. Mom was real big into that Hippie stuff." He shrugged his shoulders.

That I understood. He looked to old to have a Hippie Mom but shit, weirder things had happened and I had heard stranger names.

One of the reasons his truck had caught my eye was the two silver rams heads on the hood. He caught me looking at them and said "Yeah, this is a Dodge Ram times two. I added them myself." He laughed. "I like to think of them as goats though. All right now. Let me pull out. You can load them dogs up in back and hop in." As he walked around the front of the truck I noticed he had put on his WWF belt, tucked the gloves into it and the hammer was riding in a loop attached to it.. I thought about that as he got in and shut the truck door. "Don't let him get to close" was my conclusion. Armor or no armor. Helmet or no helmet. Getting smacked with a sledge hammer was going to hurt.

He started the truck up. I recognized that sound. The chitter of a diesel engine running. Then he hit the gas. That didn't sound like Chiefs diesels. I stepped back to let the smoke it was blowing out the exhaust dissipate. I was used to weird smells coming out of diesels because Chief ran ours on whatever he could find. This had a darker scent, like what iron and blood smells likes. I liked this smell better. Sometimes Chiefs diesels exhaust made me hungry. Especially when he was using peanut oil.

I dropped the tailgate and told Woof "Hop in Woof." I was surprised. He leaped in like he had been doing it all his life. The rest of the pack, except for one followed him right in. The exception was the one who had been scratched by the ricochet. He hesitated, then looked up at me with a sad look. I yelled "Get in the fucking truck!" He jumped in. I closed the gate, and walked around to the passenger side thinking "That numb nut actually thought I would help him up." I climbed in, sat back and looked around. Everything had been redone in leather including the dashboard except for the floorboards. They had untanned deer skin on them.

"Nice ride" I told him.

He grinned "Yep. Can't beat a '89 W 250 Cummins Turbo Diesel. Got a Powerstroke intercooler, S300G turbo, with pryo and boost, and a 727 tranny."

"No shit" I replied. Mentally I sighed and thought "A gear head. Jesus."

He nodded solemnly and replied "Yep. No shit."

"So what are using for fuel?" I asked him.

"Blood." he replied, then put the truck into gear, looked over at me, winked, and added "Christian when I can get it."

I thought about that for a few beats, decided even if he was kidding I liked his sense of humor, and replied "So what kind of mileage are you getting with Christian blood?" He didn't even have to stop and think about it before he replied. "It depends. I cut it with ten percent mead because I am a Green kind of guy in my own way. The only problem is that finding mead is only slightly harder than finding a real Christian around here.

I found myself agreeing with that. It made perfect sense to me. So I told him "I am surprised that you have found any."

He chuckled "You mean Christians or mead?"

I thought about that. He had a point. "I would go with Christians."

He grinned, and slowed down to weave in between a couple of old cars that had narrowed the lane to one, then said "Nah. I've had it worse. Try running Catholics. Nothing but backfires and the exhaust smells like guilt and old wine. You want high octane...you got to go with the Amish. Too bad they lasted as long as the squirrels did."

We drove in silence for about five minutes. I looked back to check on the dogs a couple times. I was worried they might decide to do something stupid like leap out or piss on the tailgate. They seemed to be enjoying themselves though. All of them but the mutt who had caught the ricochet had their heads hanging over the side and were vacuuming up road scent with their noses and grinning. The mutt was curled up in the middle of the bed and taking a nap. Life was good for them it looked like.

Thursday noticed me checking on them but didn't say anything. Instead he turned on his radio and lowered the volume quickly. He had it on stun and I was glad he had turned it down. I didn't recognize the song or the language. Hell, I was surprised he was picking anything up at all since he had what looked like the original radio that had come with the truck.

I asked him "What station is that?"

"Oh...Radio Norse." He replied like it was no big deal. It probably wasn't. Where I came from we had, at least before things went so wrong, radio stations that played music from Asia, India, and south of the border.

"Yeah? I know someone who would probably understand that." I told him casually. I was being crafty. I knew he would ask "Who's that?" Then I would tell him and gauge his reaction to her name. That would tell me more about him. I was right. He asked "Who's that?"

"Her name is Freya."

He didn't even blink. Instead he said "Hmmm....that's nice."

I was rather disappointed by his reaction. We were going to have to start doing more advertising if one our goals was to become known as a blood thirsty Horde. I was going to pursue my questioning a bit more with him. See what I could find out about the locals and the Colonel. How he felt about it, and where he stood, when he changed the subject on me.

"Why you going into town?" He asked me.

I decided to tell him. If he didn't like it I could always shoot him when we stopped I figured."

I could tell by how he furrowed his brow, he was thinking about it. "Okay. I like it. A warrior and a quest for a lost child as a favor to a beautiful woman." He started slowing down. I looked over at him and said "What are you doing?" I felt pretty calm. I wasn't sensing anything strange and the dogs were still grinning in back.

"A couple reasons. We're going to be hitting a road block in about ten minutes. We get through that then we are in town." He pulled off the side off the road and backed into what had been, or was someones driveway. Once done with that he continued "Not that I am adverse to just going into a town and kicking ass and hammering heads. I know you aren't." He grinned at me. I just stared back at him. I was half a mind to just get out and walk as it was. He looked at me. Held up his hands and said "You're right. Lets just play it by ear." He pulled back on to the road and started grinning. I was still a little bit irritated. I wasn't sure why and I didn't remember asking him to come along. So I asked him "What the hell is so funny?'

"Nothing." He looked over at me and saw the expression on my face. He added "I feel good. Been a while since I've done this."

"Done what?" I was still pissed but the joy I saw in his face was hard to deny.

"Rode with warriors to battle."

I was beginning to think Thursday has slipped a gear during the long winter. Nothing wrong with that. A lot of people had. I told him "Ah...Thursday, I am the only warrior here."

He looked at me. No laugh or grin this time. Instead I heard "We shall see...yes we will." For a second I saw another Thursday staring out of his eyes. Probably a much younger one. I didn't get a chance for a retort. The roadblock was coming up.

The roadblock was more than I expected it to be. I had pictured a couple of worn out police cruisers, maybe a pickup or two sitting along side the road, and a couple of people wearing road crew glow in the dark vests over half assed uniforms, an a lot of attitude. The only thing I got right was the attitude and that wasn't even that bad.

There were two vehicles pulled over to the side waiting to get passed thru. One was a truck with the bed full of boxes an a fair amount of watermelons. Little green ones. The other was a passenger car that was beginning to rust out where a couple of bullet holes had punched through the drivers side passenger door sometime in the not so distant past.

The truck was being unloaded by the owners who were white, skinny, and almost dressed like normal for a time and world that was gone. Almost being they were wearing sidearms, were skinny for Americans from that period, and they looked pissed. The Polo shirt was one of the expensive ones and the pants were clean. I figured it was their go to the market clothes. They were stacking boxes from the bed on the road that a guard in uniform was poking halfheartedly through. The watermelons were being stacked in two piles, one smaller than the other. My guess was they were going to be paying the toll with one of those stacks of melons.

The other vehicle belonged to a family, that term was used loosely these days, of Latinos. They were sitting on the grass to the side and looked very bored. My guess is this was nothing knew to them. They had three kids between the age of 9 to 11 running around chasing a gypsy mouth, yelling "Butterfly" and laughing like crazy. Their trunk was popped but it hadn't been emptied of the luggage, boxes, and a couple blanket rolls inside. Only Dad was armed that I could see. What was amazing to me was they had Texas tags on the car.

Thursday was signaled to pull in behind the two cars which he did. The dogs began barking and the officer waving us in didn't look particularly pleased to see them hanging over the bed drooling, growling, and barking at him. I reached back, banged on the cab back window with my knuckles, then leaned out my window and yelled "Shut Up!" All that did was turn the volume down a couple notches.

Thursday put it in park an asked me out of the corner of his mouth "Friends or foe?"

I opened the door. I was going to have to knock some dog heads together if they didn't shut up and told him "Don't know yet" as I dropped to the ground.

The police force, or whatever they were calling it, wasn't all that impressive. I knew them after five seconds. They were militia level with a good NCO who was probably a former cop. The road block was a couple 4X4's and a HUMVEE with a .50 up and pointed slightly away from us. There was a canvas top tent with mesh netting walls, something that you used to see in peoples backyards when they wanted to sit outside with out the bugs getting them.

One of the 4X4's had a generator on the back that was putting out power for a radio and a small refrigerator inside the mesh tent. They had a picnic table inside and they were using it as a desk. The side of the tent that faced us was sandbagged up to about three feet. They had been there awhile was my guess. Behind the tent was a path leading through the grass into the woods. Probably where they went to relieve themselves. They had strung a banner between two poles stuck in tires with cement to hold them that said "Welcome to Gods Country!" The banner looked like it had seen better days. I wondered if they played volleyball using the banner as the net when no one was around.

The officer who had waved us over met us as we shut the truck engine off. The first thing he said was "Shut them dogs up and keep them in the back of that truck." They were still barking and growling their fool heads off. I inhaled, ready to yell "Shut up!" Instead Thursday growled "Stillhet!" They shut up right away. The officer nodded approvingly and I bit back the anger that I felt. "Those were my dogs!" I thought. That was followed quickly by "What the hell? That was weird, especially as I had heard someone else use the exact same word not too long ago." I didn't have time to pursue the thought as the officer continued talking to us.

"Okay. Nobody is crossing the line until we get an okay. The Brethren are having problems with bandits back the way you came in and we're in lock down until we get more information. Meanwhile we'll get the usual stuff out of the way."

He looked at us for acknowledgment that we understood. Both of us nodded.

He hesitated. I guess we were supposed to ask about the bandits. We didn't. So he asked us. "You see anything back there?" I replied "Yeah. A town on fire."

"Yeah. That's the word we got." He narrowed his eyes. I loved it when people did that. I called it the "Penetrating stare." He asked "See anything?"

"Nope. Thursday here hit the gas and we moved past it as fast as we could." Thursday backed me up, telling him "Sure enough. Don't need no trouble." That seemed to mollify him.

He continued "Okay. What is the purpose of your visit to Freedomville?"

I laughed. "When the hell did the name get changed?"

He actually looked a little embarrassed. He said "A week ago. All the towns and such are getting new names to reflect our pride in our American heritage."

I looked at Thursday who looked back at me blankly. I guess it didn't really matter.

American Apocalypse IV - Chapter 1a - by nova

Or I could have kept the Leader Brother alive and tortured him. I wouldn't have minded torturing him. I had never done it before, well, maybe once or twice, but I didn't give a shit. I was going to go house to house and kill everybody in this fucking town and then burn it to the ground. Nobody here was going to be living when I was done. Nothing was going to be standing to be remembered or used again when I left.

I was walking down the main street. I didn't care if anyone saw me. I hoped they did. I didn't have to worry about the watch on the roof this time. I had just thrown him off it a minute ago.

Beyond me the dogs, led by Woof, came up fast at a trot. One of them, the biggest Rottweiler, had the arm, well one of the Brothers arms, I couldn't tell if was the one I had removed from Mr. Stumpy locked in his mouth. He looked rather pleased with himself too.

I stopped for a couple beats to let them catch up while I listened to their claws scratch the asphalt and their breath being expelled from their lungs in deep rhythmic pants. I told Woof when he caught up with me "Damn. People call me a fast eater. What did you do? Woof it down." He wagged his tail, and I laughed. I was really starting to like Woof.

The house down from the main house had a garage. The doors were open and the hood of a truck stuck out maybe a half a foot. It looked like it was a pretty decent size one. Hopefully it ran. I had thirty miles to go to this Kid Leader School and I didn't want to walk it unless I had too. I was about halfway to it when someone took a shot at me from the open window of the house next to it. They missed.

I had the 30-30 in a sling but I didn't even think of it. I was beginning to wonder why I carried it. I filled my hands with both Ruger's. At the same I burst into a run and snapped off two quick shots. I ran straight at the house. As I did a couple of the dogs barked. In joy or because of the noise I didn't know. I did know they were loud. I was just as loud as I yelled "Freya!" and tried to do a 360 scan as I ran.

A light bulb went off in my head as I ran. It said "Hey dumbass. You know thing on your back we call a rifle? Might be a good time to use it."

"No shit" I thought. Holstering the Rugers and making a sharp zig because it seemed like the house was a mile away still and I could see movement at the window, while trying to pull the 30-30 was difficult. I managed it and was shot at and missed again. This one hit, ricocheted, and I heard a dog yelp. I pushed the safety in and fired from my hip and took out the window down from where I thought who ever it was.

Cursing and getting seriously pissed I didn't stop for the front door. I got lucky, it wasn't steel framed or locked even. I kept going through it, leaped a coffee table, and bounced off the wall hard. The stairs were to my left. I levered a new round in and started shooting through drywall and whatever the hell else they used to make houses around here. The house looked new so it was probably cardboard pulp and virgin nylon carpeting reinforced by pine boards.

The dogs went racing up the stairs. One of the Rottweilers was limping a bit. As he passed by he gave me a reproachful look. I wanted to yell "Not my fault!"but I was distracted by the sound of a door slamming shut. "Shit!" I thought "Lucky sonofabitch so far." I reloaded the 30-30 and listened to large dogs scratch at the door. I was going to have to go up there and finish this before one of them got hurt. I didn't bother to call them off. I doubted if they would listen and I couldn't think of a command that equaled "Get away from the door and get out of the way you dumb ass, rot breathed, stupid fuckers."

I fired another round where I thought I heard movement and rushed the stairs. I was about halfway up when I heard "I give up! I surrender!" I kept going, yelling at the dogs who were gathered around hallway at the top of the stairs trying to get in the bedroom door. I was surprised they hadn't. Those doors were usually as well built as the rest of the house. I kneed one of the dogs to get it to move and yelled "Come out now!" Then moved so they wouldn't place me by voice.

"Call off the dogs!"

Jesus. This was getting tiresome. I had a town to burn and miles to go. I booted the dog in front of me and yelled "Move! Out! Now!" Woof looked at me like I was insane, snarled at the one who scratching at the door which looked like one more big dog jump against it would bust it open, and got them moving down the stairs. Well, Woof stopped halfway.

I yelled "All right! Come out!"

The door open cautiously and a skinny white guy who looked like he once weighed a great deal more came out slowly with his hands raised. "Okay. I surrender! Be cool buddy."

I shot him in the head. The 30-30 round was pretty close to a .357 round in what it did to his head. I levered another round in, stepped into the room and made sure he was alone, then looked down at the body and said "Fuck you. Fuck you and your shitty little town." Then I kicked him in the balls. I picked up my brass and left him to the dogs who pushed up hard against me as I went down the stairs.

I began burning down the houses. They burned easier than I thought. About halfway through it occurred to me I might have wanted to wait until I found out if that truck I had seen worked. After all, the smoke was a signal to anyone nearby that bad things were happening here. I mentally shrugged and said "Fuck it. Let 'em come." I hadn't found anyone else. In fact I skipped a couple houses that weren't part of the main cluster that made up the village. They were at least a quarter to half a mile away. It was getting boring anyway. I was never a firebug except when I was young.

I began working in a rough circle with the goal of coming back to the truck. I would see if it ran. If it did, then I would load up the dogs, burn the main house down, and head down the road. The dogs were getting bored plus they didn't like the fire either. I had stopped to look at the one Rottweiler who had been nicked by the ricochet. He was fine but that didn't stop him from whimpering as I looked at it. Just a big baby was all he was. By the time I had begun working my way back they had all gone ahead of me and were sitting in the shade of a tree watching me or catching up on their sleep. Nothing like a full tummy to make you want to take a nap.

Inside one of the houses I found a half full box of posters. Dispatches from the Colonel. Propaganda for the people.

TO THE PEOPLE OF WEST VIRGINIA - OHIO - VIRGINIA

JOIN US - THE PEOPLES PARTY! - RECLAIM AMERICA!

WHAT WE BELIEVE IN!

That there is only one God! That those who have undermined the belief in our God also work to destroy our world! We will not let them succeed!

The abolition of incomes unearned by work. The breaking of interest slavery and the BANKERS grip on our throats!

In view of the enormous personal sacrifices of life and property demanded of a nation in these troubled times, personal enrichment from loans and other financial skulduggery must be regarded as a crime against the people. We therefore demand the ruthless confiscation of all banker profits.

We demand the nationalization of all businesses which have been formed into corporations (trusts).

We demand economic reform suitable to the needs of the times and the people;

The prohibition of unions and the right to work!

The passing of a law instituting profit-sharing in large industrial enterprises.

The creation of a livable wage.

The restructuring of social security and welfare to exclude those who have stolen the peoples wealth.

The immediate enforcement of all laws deemed necessary to protect and defend the people!

Contact your local party representative for more information.

Next to the banner was a nice photo of the Colonel in uniform. He looked good. I doubted if he had missed many meals during PowerDown. Hell, he probably had desert when ever he wanted. The flyers made good fire starters.

I was down to six houses when the dogs started howling and then abruptly shut up. I looked out the window of the house I was getting ready to set on fire and saw them gathered around the porch of an old house. An old man was sitting out on it in a rocking chair looking at them and rocking slowly back and forth. He seemed calm and in no danger of being eaten anytime soon so I finished lighting off the house and walked over to see what was up.

He watched me approach. He was old. At least 50. Maybe older. I knew that because he had Old Guy ears and nose. I never saw it much before the crash but nowadays all the Old Guys had it. Some of them had so much fur growing out their ears that they reminded me of elves. Others had hair growing out of the tips of their noses. Sometimes it was long enough to look like nose antennas. He had both. I didn't find it endearing. For someone who so old he looked like he was in good shape. He had some broad shoulders under that shirt. I was going to see if he was wearing pads or armor under there. The only weapon I could see was a short handled sledge hammer standing head down next to his rocking chair. It looked well used and as old as he was.

The dogs moved reluctantly out of my way. I climbed up the stairs and said "Hey." I was tired now. The blind desire to kill had retreated into where ever it spent most of its time. Probably hanging out in front of my minds equivalent of a 7-11.

He replied "Hey. Them your dogs?"

"Yep,"

He nodded his head, thought about it for a couple beats, and asked "They gonna eat me too?"

"I doubt it. They're pretty full and you don't look like you got a lot of meat on your bones."

He laughed. "Yep. This is true." He leaned forward a bit, stopping the rocking motion, and said "Well I think you kilt about everyone and you got a good start on burning the town down. Whatcha going to do next?"

American Apocalypse IV - Chapter 1 - by nova

I was alone. I was okay with that. I had a mission. Find Carols son. I had a deadline. I knew how long I was going to be gone. At the rate the Horde was moving I would need to set aside two weeks just to catch up with them once I found the kid. I pulled out the t-shirt Carol had given me. It was a Transformers t-shirt. "Nice" I thought. It was Bumblebee. Too bad it wasn't my size. I would have worn it. I smiled to myself and thought of another kid with an Optimus Prime toy. "Shit always runs in cycles" I told myself. I was sitting there, reluctant to move, knowing I had too, but unable to get off my ass when I heard them coming.

They were quiet. They just needed not to breathe so hard. Nothing was there one second, the next I was looking at five big dogs. They stayed back about ten feet while Woof walked up, sniffed, looked me over, and then sat down about three feet from me. He was smiling. I like that in a dog.

I looked him and the rest of the pack over. All of them were males and none weighed less than 90 lbs. I recognized the usual breeds, Rottweilers, Woof the German Shepherd, and one I didn't recognize. Somebody's mutt. Looking them over made me glad I wasn't going to be cleaning up after them.

"Woof. You've put on some weight. Looking good Dog."

He was too. He still had the scar and a couple more had been added. All of them were scarred. One of the Rottweilers had what looked like a bullet wound scar on his flank.

Woof didn't say the same about me. It didn't bother me. I understood. He wasn't the talkative type. I tossed him the t-shirt. "Sniff that up. That's who we're looking for." Each dog came up, sniffed, and went back to his place after Woof took a couple sniffs.

"Okay. Lets go to work then." I told them. I grabbed my pack, stuffed the t-shirt into it, and started headed back towards the town I had found Carol and her friends in. I needed my bike. A truck would be better. I also needed to talk to a member of the Brethren. I needed more information. The clock was ticking. I didn't think we had left anyone alive who had seen me. If someone had, that was fine with me. I could use the exercise.

Me and the dogs had made camp a couple hours later. I found a place by a stream so we all would have water and unrolled my bag under a tree. I didn't bother to eat. I had nothing for the dogs and it didn't feel right to eat in front of them. Feeding them was going to be interesting. Even if Freya could drop us some bunnies from the sky it would still take about ten of them to feed these pups and they would probably consider that a snack.

The next morning after we been walking for a little bit a rain began to fall. A cold one at that. The summer had not been as warm as it usually was. Wearing a vest and carrying a bunch of crap made me very okay with that. I stopped, stripped above the waist, and let the rain wash away some of the stink. I would have gone completely nude and walked on but the occasional thorn bush, nettles, and ticks that made that impractical. Just thinking about catching a thorn bush between the legs made me wince.

That was one of the many things I learned after I became homeless. The woods are not Disneyland. Nor are they as benign as your backyard. You had to watch out for poison ivy. I remember one girl who wiped her ass with a handful. That was pretty funny. You had ticks. You had bushes that scratched you up. The temperature was always was too hot or cold. Never just right. Water that was safe to drink was a constant struggle to find. It took me all of two days to figure out why all of the relatively sane homeless carried gallon water jugs. Living full time in the woods was a bitch. I had seen two people just break down and start crying because they couldn't deal with it. This was before things got really bad too.

A lot of times like now when I was walking but hadn't gotten into a distance eating rhythm I would rehash old times and places in my head. At first, when I first started doing a lot of walking I thought "Hey. No distractions now!I can do some seriously deep thinking." Nope. Never happened.

Right now I was trying to figure out how to do this. Go get my bike and go into town or just go into town then get my bike. Big decisions like this occupied a lot of time when I had it. Or should I camp and go in the next morning? I decided the hell with it. I would just go in. I had at least four hours of daylight left. Maybe I could get invited to dinner. Maybe they would have dessert. Something good. I was still thinking about apple pies I had known and loved when I began getting close enough that I was going to have begin looking for an observation post. I skipped the ones we had already used. "Never use the same places and never use the same route twice" was what Max had taught us.

As I had walked the dogs had spread out around me in a diamond formation with an extra furry facet bringing up the rear. They moved right along with me considering that they seemed to pee on every other bush and tree. I made a bit of a jag out the way at one point so they could drink from a stream. They seemed to appreciate that.

I found a rise and crawled around to the side of it and looked through a bush. The town was occupied again. My timing for once was good. The team that had done the sweep after we left was leaving. It looked like a handful of people and yet another guy in a robe were staying behind. I bet he was someone else who appreciated a cool summer like this. The last guys robe looked like it was made out of wool.

Everybody stood around the trucks while he said what had to be a prayer. Then they were gone. Woof was sitting next to me helping me watch. This was the first time he had sat this close to me. He needed a toothbrush. I told him "Woof. You're breath stinks. I''m going to have to make some bones for you to chew on." Then I scratched his ear and waited, giving them time too settle down and the others to put some miles under their axles.

I began walking in. I didn't bother to hide myself. Once again they had a watch on the roof. He didn't see me until I had covered half the distance. "Kind of shoddy watch keeping" I thought. I had wondered what I was going to do with the dogs. Somehow telling them to "Sit!" and "Stay!" seemed a little ludicrous. I almost decided to give it a try, just to see the expressions on their faces, but decided it wasn't worth it. "Never give orders that you are not sure will be obeyed" was another of the Maxims we learned. I had never thought about it before, but I was far more reluctant to shoot a dog than a person. Then again, these were good dogs while it was rare for me to run across good people.

I could see that in the clowns gathering to greet me. First impressions are important and they didn't weren't making good ones. It was probably my visceral dislike for men who ran around looking they they were an extra in "Friar Tucks Great Adventure" movie. The two guys flanking him looked competent. This time a couple others hung back and watched. All in all a better response than last time. Even dumbasses learned.

"Hold it right there stranger." This was from the good Brother.

I came to a stop, stood easy, and grinned at them. "Howdy Brothers" I told them. The dogs had fanned out around me and were smiling at them also. I was proud of them. We looked so darn happy and friendly. It didn't seem to reassure Brothers escorts. They were not thrilled about the dogs or disarmed by their happy smiles. Maybe it was the fact that a couple of them were drooling and licking their chops.

Brother said "I got one question for you. Answer it right and we can talk." He didn't tell me what happened if I answered it wrong. My guess it was something bad.

He sprung it on me. "Are you washed in the blood of the lamb? Have you accepted Jeebus Christ as your savior?" He didn't just say this. He had to roll it out like he was announcing a WWF match. "He needed more reverb." I thought.

"Yeah." I told them. "All that and more. I'm from the Colonel and I'm hungry and thirsty."

They liked that. At least the first part. The second part, the invoking of the name of the most holy Colonel, got them moving. I had guessed right. That asshole had some serious weight nowaday.

Brother grinned, and said "C'mon in. I thought someone might be by. You are just here much quicker than was expected." He was looking around behind me. "Probably looking for a vehicle an other people." I guessed.

"Great. I hope you got something to feed my dogs." As we walked towards the main building I added "They'll eat anything you know." I looked Brother in the eyes as I said this and smiled.

We walked and chatted for a minute or two and then he told one of his escorts to show me where I could get get some water for myself and the dogs. He told me "You go ahead and get cleaned up and take care of them animals. I will have someone check and see what we can spare to feed them. Then, come find me and we can talk." He walked away and I and my new escort went off to find us some water.

As we walked I asked him "So whats new around here? Y'all had any problems?"

"Naw. Had some people show up the other day and kill just about everybody in town. Other than that -- it's been pretty quiet."

"Yeah" I told him "I know what you mean. We were on patrol. Tracking a group moving west when we got ambushed three days ago. They killed off my team. Me an another guy got away but he died the other day. Some kind of weird ass cult they were."

"Yeah. I think I know who you mean. Some kind kind of Burner goddess worshiping group. They got some girl claiming to have super powers or some such shit. Supposed to be pretty hot looking too."

"No shit?" I replied.

"Yep. Brother Roger, he says the Prophet is going to kick their ass too."

"Yeah. I heard about you guys. Say, you got a radio here? Something I can reach the Colonel on?"

"Sort of. Brother Roger does. We just got it not long ago. It ain't worth a damn." He lowered his voice, "It's a Prick-127. My Dad probably used it."

Here's the water." We had stopped around back of a house that was about a half a block from where we had split off from the Brother. He pointed to a rain barrel then slapped the side. "Yeah, it's about half full. It should be good. I drank from it the other day." He looked at the dogs and said "Damn, them are some big ass dogs you got. Probably feed everyone here for a weekend off of them." Woof, who like the others, had been following me and pissing on everything that they ran across, started growling. As soon as he did the others came on point and joined in. It sounded like a a flock of Harleys idling.

"Woah now. Just kidding. Hey buddy tell them I was only kidding."

"It's all right Woof" I said. Woof looked at me quizzically but shut up. Once he did the others did too. Reluctantly. The Escort looked me, tried to smile, and said "Thanks. I guess I should find something for them to eat." I looked at him and said "Yeah. That might be a good idea." I had unhooked my camelbak and had filled it up during this. I hefted it, and left the water running for the dogs to drink out of. Not the most sanitary thing to do, wasteful too, but I didn't really care. It wasn't like I planned on living here. My escort didn't like it but he didn't say anything.

To kill time as each dog, Woof first, took their turns, I asked him "So what do you do for fun around here?" He laughed bitterly and replied "Yeah. Not a whole lot to do since them devil worshipers ran off with the women. I tell you buddy, they had some hot ones here. We used to run down here when we were in the area. They had this one...shit what was her name...Sheryl I think..yeah, that was it. She'd suck your knob off if you said you would get a note to her boy." He laughed. I knew that laugh. It was the good old boy join in with me laughing and then seal the bonding by saying something like "Ya don't say" or "Damn. That sounds hot! Wish I'd got me some." Instead I dropped down and began messing with my left boot lace. I didn't think he needed to see my face yet. Hoping I sounded casual I said "No shit. What happened to the kid?"

"Last I heard he was about thirty miles east of here at Kid Leader Camp. Say...you probably been there being one of the Colonels top guys an all." I looked over. There was still one dog waiting to drink. Well, I decided to give him a choice of beverages." I reached over my left shoulder, found the hilt of the sword, pulled it, came up pivoting like I was hitting a fastball. I whispered "Freya" and cut threw his right arm at the bicep and buried the blade in his ribcage after slicing through the side panel of his body armor. I think that must have hurt by his expression.

The arm dropped to the floor with a meaty thunk. He actually asked me "Why?" I watched the disbelief fade with his life from his eyes while blood jetted from the severed limb. I stepped back. I didn't want to get hosed by Mr. Stumpy. "Why?" I told him "Because your a piece of shit. That's why." Not one of my snappier lines I will admit but it was true. I doubt if he heard it anyway. Behind and around me the Harley was warming up again. I looked over at Woof and said "Lunch time" and stepped away. I sheathed the blade wet, something I didn't like to do, but I didn't plan on letting the blood dry on it. I didn't worry about him screaming. Woof always went for the throat.

When I went though the door of the main house it was like deja vu all over again. Three guys at the table, Brother in the big chair. The only difference was this Brother asked "Where's Brother Al?" I grinned, and told them "Oh. He's feeding the dogs." Then I killed them. I suppose I could have asked some questions. Maybe sat down and had something to eat with them. Maybe even be diplomatic and learned important secret stuff.

American Apocalypse IV - And so we begin

American Apocalypse III is being edited by Chile. That version used part of AA IV as it was posted here.I was going to use all of it but the word count was headed towards 90,000 and that is getting a little high for a paperback.  

So I rewrote, actually minor changes mostly, of what was left of AA IV and I am posting it here.  I am going to pick up in the same place I stopped before. The posts are so everyone knows where we are at. I know I needed to reread it. 

I have no idea, as usual, where this part is going.  I hope you enjoy it. 

American Apocalypse I - The New Edition

I pulled American Apocalypse I from distribution today.Why?  For a number of reasons.  The new version  Ulysses Press is releasing will be available in March 2011.  The old version, well I grew tired of all the complaints about the poor grammar, spelling and general editing.  I decided to pull it earlier than I had planned so people who are interested in the book will end up with the new version. Last week I saw the edited version and was amazed.  It's the same book but it isn't if that makes sense. Different enough that I felt embarrassed.

What if I have the old version? Ulysses Press is releasing AA I as a mass market paperback in the US, UK, and Canada. If the book is successful, which I think it will be, you will own a collectors copy.  The quality of editing, and perhaps writing, is better in AA II.  Hopefully the same can be said about Gardener Summer and AA III.

I also pulled the rough draft of AA I. Why?  I no longer own it.  I was also running up against the maximum number of posts Google allows you here.  I did archive it so all your comments have been saved. Below is the new cover and Ulysses description of the book.  Thanks.

American Apocalypse: A Novel of the Aftermath 

This is a fast-paced, action-packed thriller set in America after the complete socioeconomic collapse. Although an innocent casualty of the chaos, one young patriot must discover his inner strength and defiant courage as he comes of age learning how to survive in the wasteland of anarchy and mobs violence. With the economy in free fall, the government crippled by indecision, the streets taken over by desperate mobs, and the fragile institutions of civilisation crumbling, America suffers a full-scale collapse. Amid the destruction and anarchy, a young man finds himself homeless and alone on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., facing certain death unless he can master survival skills he never imagined needing. An innocent casualty of the chaos, this young patriot must discover his inner strength and defiant courage as he comes of age in the desolation of the country's crumbling capital. Fending off violent citizens in a wasteland of looting and mayhem, the protagonist emerges as an ultimate force of justice in a lawless land. This compelling, fast-paced novel pulls readers in and lets them experience firsthand what life in the United States will be when its teetering society finally falls.

Edit: I also would like to say that without your comments and participation in all this that none of it would have ever happened.  The mass market edition keeps the same acknowledgment to you that was in the original.For all of you have who have posted your comments over time and helped me so much I will gladly send you a signed copy of AA I when it comes out. You know who you are. E-mail me.

The Sword of Chosen

One of the readers here made me a sword.  When I say he made it I mean he did it the way it was done for  millenniums.  He took a bar of steel and created a blade.  It is a beautiful piece of work. 

Holding Sword I was struck by how up close and personal warfare was for so many years. This is a gladius  or Roman short sword.  This pattern, with minor changes, was the weapon of choice for the Greeks, Celts, and Romans.  I find it amazing to think a Greek of Homers time would find this weapon very familiar. So would a Roman legionnaire. For at least a thousand years this was the weapon that built or destroyed empires. 

Wes does other work too. He might even make a sword or dagger for you.

The end of this part of The Chosen

Thanks for reading and commenting. I wrapped it up here because it is time to get Gardener Summer out soon. Tomorrow I start work on the rewrite of AA III based on the rough edit Chile did. With a little luck that should be done and out in a couple of months. Then it is back here and writing the next part of American Apocalypse. Lately I have missed writing that too.

This story was a little different. I feel it was good but not great and needs some major rewriting. I also want to go back and work on "The Mover." The problem is time. I don't seem to have enough.

Once again -- Thanks!