Survive (29 page)

* * *

John and Sara awoke to the sound of a single gunshot. John picked up his watch and saw that it was only four a.m. He listened, waiting for the telltale sound of automatic gunfire that would signal an attack on the compound. Then, the little radio John kept on his nightstand crackled to life.

“John, you better get down to the square. Something’s happened with Marta.” John didn’t immediately recognize the voice through his sleep haze and the extra static of almost dead rechargeable batteries.

He thumbed the talk button and replied, “On my way.” He jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants, grabbed his P90 from the chair beside the bed, and ran out the door, grabbing his coat on the way. The freezing cold air hit him like a wall as he ran out of the cabin. Sara wasn’t far behind him when he reached the little open area in the center of the compound they’d taken to calling the square. A crowd of people congregated, but they parted as John and Sara approached.

Ahead, a man lay on the ground clutching his leg. His pants were soaked with red liquid. Marta stood near him, a pistol still clenched in her right hand. Her shirt was ripped, one sleeve pulled all the way off. Members of the Fast Response Safety Team stood to either side of her, a few with their weapons trained on the man on the ground.

“What’s going on here?” John asked, louder than he had planned, but gunshots and blood in the middle of the night weren’t the kind of wake up call he’d expected.

Patrick Mason held up his hand and pointed to the man on the ground.

“That’s one of the newcomers that came into town the other day. Apparently, he didn’t know that rape was against the rules.”

Marta spit at the man on the ground. He moaned and clutched his leg tighter. “Goddammit, someone help me! That bitch shot me!”

“What’s your name?” John asked the man. It came out more as a growl than speech.

“Gino. Gino Machio.”

“Well Mr. Machio, is that true? Did you try to assault this woman?”

Gino spat on the ground at Marta’s feet. “Fuck you. I don’t answer to you or anyone else. Who the fuck do you think you are? The cops? In case you hadn’t noticed, there ain’t no cops anymore.”

John kicked Gino in the stomach hard enough to make him gasp for breath. “Answer the damned question, asshole.”

Sara grabbed John’s arm and pulled him back. Marta stepped forward toward John and Sara.

“I was on patrol after the party, making my rounds. This son of a bitch came up to me and asked me to go with him. He said he needed help, that he had a sick kid back in his tent. I went to see and he pulled me in and tried to rape me.” Her voice grew softer as she spoke, her eyes glazing over. “I kicked him and tried to run away, but he came after me. He kept coming, pulling at me, trying to take me down to the ground, so I shot him.” She looked down at the pistol in her hand.

John nodded. “It’s okay, Marta. You’re safe now.” Sara pulled Marta close and hugged her friend, smoothing her hair as Marta decided it was safe to let tears flow. John looked down at the man on the ground. “Well, last chance, punk. Are you going to deny what she just said?”

“I ain’t saying shit. I want a lawyer and a trial.”

John’s mouth dropped open. “What? Are you fucking kidding me? LOOK AROUND! Do you see a courthouse anywhere nearby?” He pulled his foot back to kick Gino again, but Sara stepped in front of him. “Hold on a minute, John. Maybe he’s right.”

John and Marta both looked at Sara in confusion.

“I know, but look, you have to set an example here. This isn’t going to be the last time something bad happens in the compound. We have to have some way to deal with it,” Sara said.

Gino squirmed on the ground. “Yeah! You better listen to your bitch, Captain America.”

Sara turned around and kicked Gino in the face. Blood spurted from his newly broken nose and flowed freely down his face. He fell backward onto the ground, gurgling in pain.

“Shut the hell up while I’m talking. I would have put a bullet in your face if you’d tried that with me, then we’d see who you thought was a bitch,” Sara snarled at the bloody man. She turned back to John and looked expectantly at him.

John stared down at the man, then up at Emmet and Uncle Patrick. Both men nodded to him. John sighed and rolled his eyes. “This was not in my job description.”

* * *

They held Gino in a tent by himself overnight, tied to an army surplus cot, with a simple bandage tied around his wounded leg. Sara took charge of Marta through the rest of the night, trying to comfort her as best she could while John held an impromptu meeting with Patrick, Emmet, Douglas, and Roger, along with June and May Mason. They stayed behind closed doors for the rest of the night and into the early morning. Sometime after nine in the morning, children began running from tent to tent, announcing that everyone was to assemble at the square in one hour.

At the appointed time, everyone who didn’t have some essential function to perform gathered around the square, those in front sitting on the freezing cold ground so those behind could see. A smaller crowd of people gathered in a semi circle in the center of the square. John stood next to Gino, who had his hands cuffed behind his back. His face was still streaked with blood, and both eyes had swollen up and started to blacken. A white bandage with a touch of red seeping through was wrapped around his leg. He swayed slightly as he stood there, trying not to put pressure on the leg. John gripped his arm to steady him, admiring the results of Sara’s well placed sneaker.

Behind John and Gino, Uncle Patrick, Emmet Stoltz, Douglas, Sara, and Marta stood. All of them wore at least a pistol at their hip, with Emmet holding his double barreled shotgun, now cut down to a much more manageable length, aimed at Gino’s back.

John raised his hand and the crowd grew quiet. “This man in front of you attacked one of our own last night. He did this deliberately, and with the intent to sexually assault someone who has stood on the line for many of you. She defended herself and shot him in the leg, justifiable by any logic.” John paused and looked around the crowd. He made eye contact with several people before continuing. “My first instinct was to shoot him. But cooler heads have prevailed, and convinced me that we must have laws here, if we want to maintain some semblance of civilization.”

John pointed at the man. “He asked for a trial. And in a perfect world, he would have one. But we are not living in a perfect world. And so, we,” John pointed at the others behind him, “have decided the best course of action at this time, with our limited resources and situation, is to create laws that we will live by. And when someone breaks those laws, we will deal with that person swiftly and justly. These laws will govern us for one year. If at the end of that time we think our system is not functioning properly, we will revise it. Does anyone wish to speak against this now?”

No one said a word.

John nodded. “Right. We’re also not going to get into the business of regulating every aspect of your lives. I am not the government. No one here is. We are a family, a clan. We do things differently here. And so, last night, I asked a few people to help me figure out how to put down in writing what we all know to be common sense.”

John saw Douglas shake his head a little at that. He sighed inwardly. It had been a long night.

“And so, we took an example from the Bible. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not declaring anything to do with religion, only that a few simple, logical laws can do what thousands of ridiculous laws could not.”

The crowd of people began asking questions, demanding answers. John held up his hand again, but the crowd noise only rose in volume. He drew his Sig from his shoulder holster and fired twice into the air. Silence greeted him immediately. He reholstered the .45.

“Alright. Law One. You will not intentionally hurt or cause to be hurt another member of this clan.

Law Two. You will not steal from another member of this clan, or from the clan itself.

Law Three. You will pull your own weight according to your abilities, or you will go without.

Law Four. You will defend the clan and members of the clan, with your life if necessary.

Law Five. All living people, without exception, are equal under these laws.

Law Six. All members of the clan have the right and the responsibility to defend themselves when possible, and by whatever means available. Never shall this right be infringed.

Folks, family members, that is all we need at the moment. If, in the future, we need more laws, we will discuss them together. But these six laws are what we will live by as of this moment forward. One day, when needed, we may incorporate these laws into our own Constitution. Let’s work on survival first, though. If you do not agree with these laws, you are free to leave at any time with your belongings, and with no hard feelings.”

Those gathered around the square nodded or voiced their agreements to the six laws. John looked at Gino. “As for you, these laws are retroactive. And you broke Law One. Do you know what the penalty for breaking Law One is?”

Gino shook his head.

“Marta, this man acted against you first, and the clan second. As the victim, you may decide his fate if you so choose.”

Marta shook her head at first, but Sara murmured something in her ear. She straightened, nodded, and walked forward.

“I gave him his punishment already. I shot him down like the dog that he is.” She moved quickly, as if to lunge for Gino, but stopped herself, faking him out. Gino cringed and whimpered, putting weight on his bad leg. He cursed under his breath.

John nodded to Marta. “So be it. But, Gino Machio, you also acted against the clan, and I say you are no longer wanted here. You are to be exiled from this place and forbidden to return, or to enter any future clan holdings as well. And consider yourself lucky that you are alive, for now.” John raised his voice and looked at the crowd, “Does anyone object to this? Speak now, with no fear of recrimination.”

Again, no one spoke a word.

Gino began to stammer. “You can’t do this! If you send me out there, that’s murder!”

John looked Gino square in the eye. “After what you tried to do to Marta last night, take it like a man, you son of a bitch.”

Gino lunged for John, but Emmet was faster. He brought the butt of his sawed off shotgun down on Gino’s head with a loud crack. The stunned man fell to the floor, moaning.

John looked at Emmet. “Get him out of here. Give him a pack with a week’s food and water, a baseball bat, and some antibiotics for the leg. Take him down the road a few miles and dump him. If he comes anywhere near here, treat him as a Zed.”

Emmet nodded. “Shouldn’t be too hard, as he’ll probably be one by then.”

John’s face remained hard. “He chose his own path.”

* * *

John walked out of the square with Sara in tow, as Emmet and a few others took the exiled man away. Jose walked up to them, dragging a familiar looking girl behind him. “Hey, Sara, John, have you met Michelle?”

John looked at her, trying to place her face from memory. Sara rescued him, as usual when it came to social obligations.

“From the church. You and your mom came back with us, right?” she asked, smiling at the girl. Michelle stood a little taller than Jose, with strawberry blond hair that flew around her head in wispy swirls. She smiled prettily at the Masons.

“How do you do? And my mom says thanks again for taking us in.”

Sara took the girl’s hand. “Oh, you tell your mom she’s very welcome. We’re glad you’re both here.”

“We had a wonderful time at the party last night. That’s the most fun I’ve had since...well, you know.”

Sara laughed. “We know. Tell me, what are you two doing now?”

Jose broke in. “We’re going to go for a walk around the compound and then I’m going to show her my workshop and my truck.”

John laughed and clapped Jose on the shoulder. “Good! Make sure she gets home safe to her mother before dark, though.”

Jose rolled his eyes. “Fine, but not until after she’s met Eddie.”

Sara looked at John in alarm. She looked back at Jose. “Jose, maybe now’s not a good time for her to...uh...meet Eddie.”

John frowned at her. “Oh right. Let me guess, you think I’m going crazy?”

Sara shook her head. “No, that’s not what I said. But you’ve been under a lot of stress and, well...” she lowered her voice and spoke directly to Jose. “Eddie’s dead, Jose. You know that.”

Michelle piped in. “That’s okay, Mrs. Mason. I’ve already met a ghost.”

John and Sara both stared at the girl. Jose grinned.

“You have?”

“Yeah, back in the church. Right before you guys rescued us and after the leader Zed told the old lady to be ready. Some guy appeared right inside the cage and said we’d be rescued soon. It’s no big deal, you know. Not like there aren’t enough dead guys walking around everywhere else. What’s one more?”

She linked arms with Jose and the two of them went off chatting animatedly with each other. John and Sara stood staring at them as they disappeared from view. They turned to each other.

“Great, Jose found someone as loco as he is,” John said.