The Mover - Part 7d

I found a place to settle in. It was a little awkward at first. I felt too visible standing up an ended up kneeling next to a tree. This was much better. With the binoculars I could look over the shelter, the parking lot next to it, and some kind of strip shopping center down the road. Off to the left of it and down a bit was a Wells Fargo bank. It was quiet out there. Minimal movement and what was I didn't find appealing.

I checked every car in the lot to make sure there wasn't anyone in them. Then I looked for cameras on the outside of the shelter. The only one I saw was pointed at the main door.  No uniformed security guard walking the perimeter either.  This was looking to be easy peasy. Now to focus on the shelter.  It was after lunch so eventually I should see some traffic. Plus the women in there, well the article I had found online, said they usually worked minimum wage jobs.  The article was a couple years old so a conservative estimate would be a few would still be working. They would be coming back soon.

I was patient. I waited for movement and about 40 minutes later I got it.  She came out the fire door, shaded her eyes and looked up and down the street. Then she fished a pack of Marlboro Lights out of her purse and lit up. "Nasty habit bitch" I thought. I could over look it in her case. She was a brunette, maybe 5' 6", big breasted and hipped. She turned to blow smoke my way and I zoomed in on her. A classical White Nordic face. "Excellent!" I told myself. She came out the fire door so she works there. If she works there than she probably has  a car in the parking lot. Yes. She definitely had potential. I liked watching her without her knowing it. It was so exciting. I hoped she didn't pick her nose. That was always gross an a possible disqualifier.   She didn't. She was perfect. I kept watching.

I was still watching when the pain exploded. The pain was so intense that only later did I compare it to what getting shot must feel like. I fell forward. The binoculars forgotten. Everything forgotten except trying to reach back and touch my lower back. I expected blood and wouldn't have been surprised to have found a spear embedded there.  Instead I felt a boot driving me further into the dirt.  A hand yanked the Glock from it's holster and then the weight behind the boot disappeared. The pain didn't. After a few minutes had passed a voice said "Keep your hands where I can see them. Don't move unless you ask permission. Nod if you understand."

I nodded. What registered with me was the cold impersonal tone he had used. No emotion what so ever. Not good. This wasn't Billy Bob the Woods Robber. This was someone like me.  Except he was a hell of a lot better than anyone I knew when it come to sneaking up on people. The pain meanwhile went from all consuming red to a fading pink with spikes of orange after an eternity. Whoever it was behind me wasn't big into talking. When the pain began easing up I asked him, "Can I move my face out of the dirt?"

"No."

I asked him "Why? It's hard to breathe like this and an ant just crawled up my nose."

His reply wasn't what I hoped for. I felt him move behind me and felt the pressure of a knee in the middle of my back. Then a hand grabbed a fist full of hair, yanked my head up, and just as quickly slammed it back down into the dirt.  I screamed into the leaves.  When I was done he told me "That fix your ant problem?"  I didn't answer.  It was occurring to me that I was very familiar with this situation. The perspective had always been different for me though. This was not a good thing.

The Mover - Part 7c

I took a breath and realized that they were listening and I was loving it.  I hit them with some more BIC material. Classic lines like

"They don't care if you live or die. They just want you to keep paying."

"The shit job of today is the high paying job of tomorrow if the bankers stay in power."

"If you think your pet politician loves you then you probably think a hand job is good sex."

That one got a laugh.  I worked them and when I was done I mentioned that we were organizing. We could provide a safe place to live and food to eat for the right people. As soon as I said that someone yelled out "What's the right people?"

"You want to find out? Be here tomorrow. All I want to hear is why you are interested and what you think you can contribute."  Then I waved goodbye and said I had other places to go to.  I didn't want to stick around and get into endless discussions about politics and the specifics of what we had to offer. 

I moved on feeling good. Real good. I could have probably brought the whole bunch home with me but we were after quality and not quantity.  I was walking along thinking of what I needed to look for an ask them about tomorrow. I was considering bringing Fire with me. She would like being consulted and maybe it would bridge some of the distance that had sprung up between us. Hell, her bruises had faded.  I was the one who was dealing with the shit that had set off inside me and I was doing a pretty damn good job of it. I had not even called Slut to see if she would like to meet somewhere quiet.  Something I was still itching to do.

I came out of my thoughts feeling irritated with Fire.  Much to my surprise I had ended up two blocks from the shelter. That was weird as I hadn't consciously planned on coming here. I looked around. I could follow the bike trail into DC or I could turn around and head back to the house.  I could also cut back in the woods and circle around and have a decent view of the shelter. I did have my binoculars. Did I really want to go there?  Sure I did. Just the idea of looking was exciting. I didn't plan on doing anything.  Really.

I slipped through the woods like a ghost. Rarely did I move so well in the woods. I felt like I was flying over down logs and flowing around the clumps of bushes.  I was excited. Very excited. I remembered this feeling very well. The feeling of the hunt. The knowing that if all went right I would be feeding soon. Feeding on the power of watching. The power of making. Making another person mine. Against their well. Mine. If god was all powerful then the sex must be mind blowing. The taking was almost as much fun as what came next.

The Mover - Part 7b

I decided to talk to the woman who had yelled at the old man. She was watching me as was everyone else around us. Not with hostility, just wary curiosity. I started walking towards her. I smiled. Hopefully it was a disarming one. She didn't return it.  Instead she told me "If you're a Mormon or selling something just keep on going."

"No. Not a Mormon." I laughed. "And I'm sure not selling anything" I decided right then to slip into low class English with maybe a hint of a drawl. The talk of the people kind of thing. 

She laughed "That's good because I don't have any. Anyways them Mormon boys travel in twos." She had her hands on her hip and was appraising me as I approached. I was pretty sure she liked what she saw. She had been good looking once. She needed to lose a few pounds and lose the hungry stressed out look and she would be all right. She might pencil out as mid-level cougar material then. Maybe. She would have to lose the kid which was running between the cars laughing and chasing someone else's kid.

"So what are you looking for stranger?"  She brushed a wisp of hair out of he face.  "You saving souls?"

'No. I'm looking for some Americans that want to help change things. To make America a place where the workers get paid a decent wage and the bankers are kept in their place." I was just getting started when she interrupted me "How do you plan on keeping the bankers in their place?" A couple of people had walked over and were standing on the edge of the conversation. I liked it. I was drawing a crowd. 

"We burn them."

The woman frowned "Like at the stake?"

One of the two people on the edge of the conversation, a middle aged White male, laughed and said "Hell Yes!"

"No. Tho that isn't a bad idea. No! We need to shut them down. We need to go back to where we actually made things in this country. Efficiency has become a religion. A religion that only benefits the rich. They have used it to strip us of our dignity, our jobs,and now they want our homes.  The only alternative they can offer is a lifetime as debt slaves. Forever begging for shit jobs to make the payments on crap that has already broken, worn out, or been flushed down the toilet after clogging our arteries."

The Mover - Part 7a

I hit the Car People lot and it was weird. Very weird. I had expected them to be up and moving. Some were. Some weren't. I was getting flashbacks to third world villages I had passed thru. The smell was almost right. It didn't have the animal stink and cluck. It did have the dogs but even those weren't right.  They didn't have that beaten, mangy, one step from the stew pot look.  They looked happy and fluffy.  Not much meat on their bones tho. Probably a decent chicken dinner. If anything they looked happier than the kids which was understandable.

As I walked up some woman was yelling at an old man "God Damnit! Go piss out by the pines! My kid plays over there!" He was pissing on a flowerbed about ten steps from a Ford Taurus. The drivers side mirror had been duct taped in place and there was a faded University of Virginia sticker on the bumper. He grinned in her direction sheepishly and finished up.  I decided to talk to him first. Get warmed up on him before I talked to someone who might be of real use.

I greeted him with a "Hey there!" and moved to intercept him before he could get back in his car. He looked taken aback by my greeting and wary of my approach.  I caught up to him and I said "Hey" again and stopped. He responded politely "Can I help you?"  He didn't offer to shake hands an neither did I for the same reason I never ate bar finger food. 

"So what's up? I thought you all had to move because of security?" I waved my hand to indicate the parking lot in general.

"No. They gave up last week. No more people coming to work here so why bother."  He spat on the asphalt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when he was done.

"Oh...so what did you do before you ended up here?"

He looked at me. Looked around the lot and then back at me and said "Fuck you."  Then he walked away.

"Well, that went well." I thought.

The Mover - Part 7

I left early in the morning from the new house. I took a day pack with a couple bottles of water an a apple.  Before I left I did my stretching exercises. I had spent a lot of time studying the martial arts at one point but I had been slacking off for awhile now.  Awhile, much to my surprise, when I thought about it was over two years.  I was also putting on weight.  Something I had been trying to deny was happening.  As I stretched I realized I didn't feel any pre-mission emotions.  Probably because there was no danger involved. It was literally going to be a hot, sweaty walk in the park. The only thing that it had in common with an actual "Op" was the heat and the people. Both of which met third world standards.  Also in the back of mind was the womens shelter. It was in the same area so I planned if time permitted to take a look at it. I had brought a pair of binoculars just in case I needed to observe the area. 

I forgot how much walking sucked.  I was going to have to look into getting a bike.  At this rate I would never get anywhere. We would need to get a few old bikes for the house.  Just to have around for those who didn't have cars or couldn't afford to drive them much.  Gas prices were absurd now. One month they would shoot up and then would drop 30% the next month.  I had never thought of it before but it occurred to me that must make it a bitch to plan and budget a paycheck. I mentally shrugged and thought "Not my problem."

The neighborhood had gone down hill more than I had expected in the span of a year.  We had driven it a bit when we looked at the place. There was a big difference in driving past and walking past a house.  You had time to see the aluminum siding that was coming loose.  The window that was broken.  The house with a mowed front yard and a jungle for a back yard.   There were plenty of people living there.  A surprising number of houses had windows open in this heat.  They weren't empty ones either. I could hear the television or music playing as I passed them. Once I heard a dog barking. from the sound of his Woof! Woof! he must have been the size of a small pony.

My first stop was going to be an office campus that was about two miles from the house.  I had cruised it once in my car and was surprised at how many people actually lived in their cars.  The number had to have doubled in the last six months at least.  My guess was the proximity to the shelter helped.  The men would keep the car and stay close while the woman and kids could stay in the shelter and be able to eat and shower.  While I walked I tried to come up with what I was going to say. Nothing I could think of sounded right let alone convincing.  If I didn't buy it I knew they wouldn't. So I decided to wing it.  I told my self "No pressure. It works or it doesn't."  It wasn't like I had no other choices.

The Mover - Part 6d

While we were waiting to close on the house I somewhat reluctantly began planning my search for followers. Especially after BIC announced he was going to California to organize and promote a burning there.  He was talking Windsong with him.  I was surprised when he told us his travel plans.  I asked him "Let me get this straight.  You're going to fly out to California, do a speech, have a band play, then go burn down the local banks?"

He grinned. "It's in LA."

"Yes. That is in California. That doesn't answer the question BIC."

"Well, we are going to burn a Banker in effigy. I was told there are a number of bank branches near where we are doing the show so if things get out of hand..." He shrugged an added "Shit happens."   

He was high just from the idea of being invited. I'd never heard of the band but that didn't mean anything.  I was probably the most ignorant person in the room when it came to music.  What I did realize was that I needed to produce and soon.

I left early the next morning to begin spreading the word of Burner.  At the very least it would give me an idea of what the area around the new house was like and a feel for what people were  thinking.  Hell, it had occurred to me this might be just a lot of stoner bullshit and I was a fool for thinking it would ever go anywhere.

At the last minute I decided to bring my Glock.  I didn't have a concealed carry license but I didn't think I would need it.  I was never a weapons freak like a lot of the people I had worked with at the State Department were.  They were just tools to me. I had never fired a weapon in anger either. My feeling was if you had to point a gun and pull a trigger your Op was already fucked up beyond belief. Mine were always clean and well planned ones. Yeah sure. There had been gunfire a couple times but that was by people who were doing their job.  I had expected it and planned for it.  The only reason I decided to carry it was the realization that the people I was going to be running into might be a little crazy.  I didn't like crazy people. They were unpredictable.

The Mover - Part 6c

We had a couple things working in our favor when it came to recruiting. The wave of discontent that had made the bank burning virus go viral was still out there and growing.  I thought of it as a huge shapeless invisible blob of of ill will, anger, and resentment that was gradually filling every nook and cranny of the country.  In just the last few years it had gone from a barely perceptible smoke that occasionally collected in pockets to a mass that was gaining in substance with every passing day.

Why? I wasn't a historian. My guess, one I was betting my future on, was that the great mass of people were angry, feeling like they had been had, and scared. Very scared. They feared that life was about to kick their collective ass off the side of a cliff. What made them angry was they didn't understand how they got there and why not everyone was going over the side with them.

The reality was yet another administration was in charge now in DC.  They wanted to cut the deficit and one of the ways they did it was no longer paying unemployment to people who had been out of work more than three years.  Three years was a compromise too. They really wanted to make it a year but there was no way that would have passed. The three year limitation was already biting deeply into to the number of unemployed.  The numbers of unemployed were dropping and that was seen as a triumph for the current administrations policy.  The numbers were dropping all right. Right off the side of a cliff.

The ones who hadn't gone over the edge had a good idea what was waiting for them. They had seen people they knew, or knew enough about people that had who reminded them of themselves.  They would run into an acquaintance from work in front of the grocery store as they exit asking for food or money to buy it.  A friend tells you about how a friend who tried to live in her car was raped.  People tell you they need to find another place to live and you never hear from them again. 

You go home. Walking up to the front door a couple of young men you had never seen before walk past and stare at you like hungry lions.  Inside your brother-in-law is asleep on the couch as usual. His, and your daughters kids are in the backyard playing. You had forgotten how much food kids eat.  The inventory you do in your head of food in the cabinets doesn't match how fast you are going through it and when the next check hits the bank account.  What makes it worse is you have a job still. You don't even want to think about what it would be like if you didn't.  Meanwhile the rich seem to get richer and the world around you is dirtier, more dangerous, and in far too many places the earth itself is dying in order to make these rich people richer.  You feel like punching a wall but instead you bite the head off of the first person that greets you.  You don't know whats wrong with you. Why am I so angry? Why do I just want to sit down, cry, and scream to everyone "It's not fair!"

These were the people who were going to fill my ranks. After they had fallen off the cliff I was sure they would do anything to claw their way back to any semblance of the world they had left. I was going to channel that anger and they would love and respect me for doing it.