The day after: An apocalyptic morning (100 page)

              And now, on her third day in town, she had been informed that her training was complete and that she had been assigned to a husband who had been selected by lottery. Assigned? She was certainly going to see about that. Someone named Sergeant Stinson was allegedly to be her new man. As if she was going to allow that. She was already perceptive enough about the workings of Auburn to know that a man's military rank was synonymous with his power within the town. A sergeant? They had assigned her to a mere sergeant? That simply wouldn't do. She would accept no less than that man Bracken who had led the group that she had met up with. He was a captain and was rumored to have the ear of the lead man himself, Barnes. Though it was Barnes who she was ultimately angling for, she figured that she would be pushing it if she tried to get close to him so soon. But if she got close to Bracken first it would only be a Micker of time before she...

              The door to the small room she was being held in opened and a man walked in. He was a small man, dressed in the inevitable camouflage clothing that all the men in town wore. He was a short man, standing about five foot nine, and very skinny with thick, coke-bottle glasses upon his face. He looked like a computer nerd and in fact, though she didn't know it, had been a systems engineer for Placer County prior to the comet. She looked at him with contempt as he looked her over.

              "Not bad," he said, nodding a little as he took in her form. "I'm Steve Stinson, your new husband. You ready to go home?"

              "My new husband?" she asked, continuing her look.

              "That's right, bitch," he said, scowling a little at her expression and her tone. "Let's go."

              "Now wait a minute," she said, standing up and walking over to him. "While I'm sure that you're a very nice man, I hardly think that a lottery is the proper way to pick a mate. I mean, I don't even know you. I'm sure you'll agree that a marriage must be based on mutual respect and goals."

              Stinson looked at her in complete disbelief. "Mutual respect and goals?" he asked through clenched teeth.

              "Why yes," she agreed. "I mean what kind of civilization would we be building if we just went around assigning every woman to a man on a random basis? That is certainly not the way that things..."

              "Listen," Stinson interrupted. "I am basically a nice guy, just like you said, so for that reason, I'm going to cut you a little bit of slack. They told me that you were a bit mouthy and that you didn't seem to take your lessons very seriously, but let me tell you that you are not in the world you grew up in. Talking back to me, talking to me at all without being addressed first is a beating offense, do you understand? Unless you wish to have the back of my hand across your face, I'd suggest you pick up your stuff and follow me right now."

              She opened her mouth to reply to this but he stopped her before she could speak. "No words," he warned, raising his hand a little. "I don't enjoy violence but I will use it if needed. Pick up your stuff and let's go."

              Jessica began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Beating offense? Surely he wasn't serious. Why, if he so much as laid a hand upon her, she would complain directly to Barnes himself about it. Nobody hit her! No man talked to her that way! But still, she thought that maybe the best thing was to go along for now, to accompany this man to his home until this could all be worked out. She would find out what the grievance process was and utilize it. In doing so she would undoubtedly find a way to talk to those who really Mickered in the town. And so, keeping her mouth shut, she picked up her bag of clothes and followed him out the door.

              They had told her many times in her classroom that the men of Auburn all had multiple wives - at least two but as many as four. Still, despite this knowledge, it came as a shock to her when Stinson led her inside the small house and introduced her to Linda and Cathy. They were both young, mousy looking women, obvious tramps.

              "Now Linda," Stinson explained to her, "is the senior wife. She will be who conveys my orders to you and she will assign you to any household tasks that need to be done. If you have any requests of me or if you wish to talk to me for some reason, you must go through her first. Do you understand?"

              "Uh... yeah," she said slowly, looking at her as if she were a bug.

              "Welcome to the family," Linda said meekly, hardly raising her eyes.

              Jessica continued to stare, not saying anything.

              "Cathy," Stinson said next, "is technically the same rank as you are but there is still the issue of seniority. Since she has been in the family longer than you have, she has the privilege of being given the nicer assignments by Linda. Everything is based on seniority around here, especially among the women. Do you understand?"

              "Sure," Jessica said mechanically, thinking that it would be a cold day in hell before she took an order or lifted a finger to help either one of these women.

              "Now the way we work things around here," Stinson continued, "is that I sleep with one woman a night. Who that is depends upon what my fancy happens to be on that particular night. The other two sleep in the guest bedrooms. Of course, once we start to have children around here we'll have to come up with other arrangements. And that'll be in about seven months, won't it, Linda?"

              "Yes," Linda said quietly, patting her stomach.

              Jessica looked at Stinson, hardly having heard the allusion to Linda's pregnancy. Sleep with one woman a night? The little nerd didn't think he was going to sleep with her did he? She gave her body to no one who couldn't help her in some way. And this man was surely a low-level flunky if she'd ever seen one.

              He finished showing her around the house - which was pitifully small in Jessica's opinion - while the two "wives" trailed along behind. She asked nothing, said nothing during the tour, simply going along with it, listening as he explained about household duties and work assignments and dinner schedules, but not really hearing him. When could she get away from him and meet someone who Mickered, she kept wondering? How long until she had a chance to talk to Bracken or Barnes?

              Finally the tour came to an end at a closed door near the back of the house. "And this is the master bedroom," Stinson said, "or... the pleasure palace as I like to call it. Isn't that right, bitches?"

              "Yes," they both dutifully replied in unison.

              Jessica could barely keep her tongue in check as she heard this.

              "And so now," Stinson said, a certain amount of eagerness on his face, "I think it's time for the breaking in. Linda, Cathy, you're dismissed to your duties."

              "Yes, sir," they both replied. They immediately turned and walked away.

              "Jessica," Stinson said, opening the door to the room and waving her inside, "shall we get to it?"

              "Get to it?" she said icily, giving him her most contemptuous stare. It was a stare that could usually be counted on to cower just about anyone. In this case if did nothing but produce a dangerous look on Stinson. She didn't let that bother her however. She had more than her share of experience dealing with peons like this.

              "We're married now," Stinson told her. "It's time for us to consummate that marriage. Get in the bedroom."

              "Consummate?" she asked with a sharp laugh. "Oh I really don't think so."

              "You... don't think so?" he asked, seemingly in disbelief.

              "Listen, Stinson," she said. "You seem to be under the impression that I am some sort of... bimbo like the rest of the women in this town. Well let me tell you right now that I am not. I am a woman of breeding and education. I have a bachelor's degree in history and I was married to a lawyer before the comet. I was the president of the homeowner's association back in Garden Hill and I was a key member of the ruling council."

              Stinson's mouth dropped open in sheer surprise at what he was hearing. His face started to turn red. "You... you... how dare you..."

              "And furthermore," Jessica went on, figuring that she was well on her way to gaining the upper hand, "I do not respond to assignments for housework. I don't do housework, I have it done for me. I do not take orders from little white trash hussies just because you've got them convinced that you are somebody. And most important of all, I will not be consummating anything with you. Now why don't you take me to someone important in this town so I can explain this to them and get assigned to a household that is a little more fitting of my background."

              She saw the fist coming but did nothing to stop it. It was his right hand and it swung upward from his waist with lightening speed, moving directly for her face. She could have ducked, could have raised her hand in defense, but so disbelieving was she that someone - especially a nerdy geek like this - would dare strike her, that she only stood there. It crashed into the side of her face like a sledgehammer and pain exploded in her head. Bright stars fired off before her eyes as she was slammed into the wall next to her. She stumbled a few steps, dazed and confused, trying to regain her balance, but before she could, the left hand swung up and struck her on the other side of her face. She spun around with the sheer force of it, dropping to her knees on the carpet of the doorway. Blood was running slowly down her cheek and pattering to the floor from a cut below her eye.

              Stinson grabbed her by her blonde hair and lifted up on her, pulling her painfully to her feet. Another blow landed on her back, right in the left kidney, driving the wind from her lungs. She tried to fall down again but the hand in her hair prevented this. She was dragged forcefully over to the bed and thrown bodily upon it. Her head was still ringing and she was still in a state of complete shock as he began talking to her.

              "Roll over and look at me, bitch," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

              When she didn't do this right away he stepped forward and grabbed her roughly by the hair again, jerking her face upward and turning to him.

              "Did you hear what the fuck I said?" he demanded. "Roll your ass over."

              Slowly, trembling with fear, anger, and pain, she did what she was told.

              "Now you listen," he told her, staring into her eyes, "and you listen good. You are my property now. My property. I will do with you as I please, when I please, and you will obey my every fucking command. I could have you hanged for what you just said to me. Hanged! But I'm going to give you another chance because you're new here and because you're a pretty hot piece that I really want to fuck. Know this though. If you ever talk back to me again, if you ever pull any shit like that again, I'll beat you to within an inch of your life and then have Barnes hang you the next morning. Is that clear?"

              She brought her hand up and rubbed at the cut on her face. He had hit her! He had beaten her! Where the hell did he get off thinking that he could do that to her? Why she was going to...

              He backhanded her sharply, sending a spray of blood flying across the room to patter on the headboard of the bed. "I asked if that was clear?" he demanded. "Do you have a fucking hearing problem? Answer me!"

              In an instant it came home to her that she was in danger. This man was crazy! She needed to get help, to get out of here! She eyed the doorway, trying to gauge whether or not she could get past him.

              Stinson took a step forward, raising his fist towards her. "If you know what's good for you," he told her, "you'd better answer me in the next second."

              "It's clear," she said carefully, her entire head throbbing with pain.

              "Good," he said, stepping back to the doorway and shutting the door. "Now get those clothes off."

              "Look," she started, trying desperately to think of a way out of this situation. She needed to get help.

              The blow struck her on the jaw this time momentarily dislocating it from its socket and loosening two of her teeth. She fell to the bed, feeling the muscles and tendons on the side of her mouth cramping in protest. His hand pulled her hair again, forcefully raising her up. "Get those clothes off," he said, carefully annunciating each word. "I'm not going to tell you again."

              "You won't get away with this," she said fearfully, her hands reaching for the button on her shirt.

              "Get away with what?" he asked her.

              "With raping me. I'll report it."

              He started laughing. "Raping you? Report it? Lady, you're not in Garden Hill anymore, you're in Auburn. You are my bitch now and I can do whatever I want to you. If I wouldn't have beaten you for what you said and for disobeying me, I would've been the one breaking our law, do you understand that? Now I don't like having to hit people - as I said, I'm basically non-violent - but you are way out of line. There's nothing for you to report to anyone. After they beat you for talking without permission, they would tell me I was doing my husbandly duties well. Now get those fucking clothes off before I give you a Goddam concussion. It's time this marriage was consummated."