Z-Burbia 4: Cannibal Road (29 page)

“Uh-oh, sounds like mommy and daddy are fightin’,” a voice calls out from behind us. “That can’t be good. I’d back down, Long Pork. Ain’t nobody gonna win, not even you, when Stella gets all riled up like that.”

We all turn to see a somewhat welcome sight.

Critter.

He’s standing with a couple of the PCs. They aren’t there because of him, but because of who is with him.

Kramer.

“Hello, everyone,” Dr. Kramer says. “I see we are having a discussion. Sorry to be late. I hope I haven’t missed the good parts.”

“Shut yer hole, Kramer,” Critter snaps and the man quiets down immediately.

I don’t know what happened between them out there, but Critter obviously has put the mad doctor in his place.

“I caught the gist of what is happenin’ when I pulled up,” Critter says. “These gentlemen were kind enough to let me know that martial law has been established. Ain’t that somethin’.”

“It’s not martial law,” Lourdes says.

“Don’t get your lady boxers in a bunch, sweet guns,” Critter says as he walks through the seated crowd and up to the woman. “You haven’t heard my take on all this. And I can see from a few faces out there that there might be some interest in what an older, more experienced person such as me might think.”

“Please,” Lourdes says. “The floor is yours.”

“Thank you,” Critter replies after a quick bow. “Hey, folks. Miss me?”

Finally, a few smiles start to show up on the faces of the crowd.

“I figured as much,” he chuckles. “Now, if I have this right, Ms. Lourdes here will be in charge as long as the convoy is on the road, then she gives up control to Stella once we get to our destination. And I am in total agreement.”

There are some surprised gasps.

“That’s right, I think it’s a fine idea to let the person that knows the most about gettin’ a convoy safely to its destination be in charge,” Critter says. “And you all know how much respect I have for Stella Stanford, so her takin’ control again has my vote as well.”

“But…,” I prod.

“Thank you, Jace,” Critter smiles. “I knew I could count on you to spot the but.”

A little laughter, but mainly expectation.

“The but is what happens if our destination doesn’t want Stella to have any control?” Critter asks. “What if we get there and we are either not welcomed, or we are not allowed to have a say in what happens to us?”

He lets that sink in.

“I wouldn’t mind if we figure that out before I fully give up my right to die a free man,” Critter says. “Because, unfortunate as it was, I have spent the past couple of days alone with Kramer. Now, I don’t believe everythin’ he told me, but there are some nuggets of truth that are botherin’ me somethin’ wicked like.”

“Like what?” Stuart asks, looking from Critter to Kramer. “What information haven’t you told us?”

“Quite a lot, Gunnery Sergeant,” Dr. Kramer grins. “You didn’t think I’d spill it all and lose my only insurance policy, did you? I’ve given you what you need to know to stay alive on the road, but when you get to Boulder, you’ll still need me to get you inside.”

“Well, of course he hasn’t told us everythin’,” Critter laughs. “Wouldn’t expect a weasel like him to be forthcomin’, now would we?”

“I can get him to talk,” Buzz says.

“Oh, Mr. Fitzpatrick, I am sure you could,” Kramer grins. “But would what I say be of any value? That is the question one must ask themselves when they propose torture as a means to gather information.”

“See?” Critter frowned. “I have been dealin’ with that shit for hours and hours and hours. Nearly killed him myself.”

“Can we get back to the root of all of this?” I ask. “The fact that we still need freedom to…”

“Oh, cram your freedom fantasy up your asshole, Long Pork,” Critter snapped. “What the hell do you know about freedom? What do any of us know? Not a goddamn bit, that’s what. You think we were free before Z-Day? We ain’t never been free! This country was a lie from the start and those of you that lived in your little subdivision ate that lie up like a dog eatin’ it’s own puke!”

“Could have done without that visual,” Charlie says.

“No shit,” Greta responds.

“Hush,” Stella growls.

They hush.

“I grew up where my own daddy whipped me harder than he whipped our mule,” Critter said. “That ain’t free. I was drafted and spent four years in a nasty jungle against my will. Four years of killin’ people I didn’t know enough to hate. That ain’t free.”

Critter was in Vietnam? Didn’t know that.

“I spent the rest of my life runnin’ from the law because I wanted a piece of the lie like everyone else,” Critter continued. “That ain’t free. Now I gotta live with you losers instead of being back in my holler with a jar of ‘shine and a plate of barbecue. That ain’t free.”

He zeroes in on me and it takes all of my willpower not to look away from those intense, beady eyes.

“You don’t know what real freedom is, Jason Stanford,” Critter says. “You never have, boy. So don’t stand there and fill these people’s heads with your arguments for this and your arguments against that. You are wastin’ their time and you are wastin’ my time. We need to be back on the road and we need to be doin’ that now. So shut that smart mouth of yours and let’s get this convoy rollin’. Understood?”

Well, it’s not like I can say much to that. The crotchety old fart has a point. I may not agree with his points, but for the first time tonight, I see some small bits of hope on the faces before me.

“Understood,” I say. “But I am going to propose a change in leadership.”

“Are you now?” Lourdes sighs. “This should be good.”

“I propose Critter is in charge,” I say. “He can defer to you how he wants, and he may want to defer everything, but I’d feel a lot better if he was the man with the final vote. He’s been fighting all his life and he knows the unwritten rules of a brutal road. He’s a criminal, a rebel, an asshole, and a leader. That’s who I want telling me what to do when I die, not a soldier.”

“Now hold on a damn…’”Critter starts to protest.

“I second that motion,” Buzz says.

“And I’ll third it,” Stella says as she reaches out and takes my hand. “I think Critter would be the perfect choice.”

“Stuart?” Lourdes asks. “What are your thoughts?”

“Once again, Jace pulls the answer out of his ass,” Stuart smiles, winces, then smiles again. “The man is a survivor and I sure as shit know he won’t let power go to his head.”

“Hey, now!” Critter cries. “I don’t want the damn job!”

“Tough shit,” I say. “All in favor of Critter Fitzpatrick being the man in charge?”

“Aye!” the crowd shouts.

“That sounded pretty damned unanimous,” Stuart says as he claps Critter on the shoulder.  “Bet you didn’t see that coming when you started your speech.”

“I hate you, Long Pork,” Critter says as he glares at me. “You know that, right? I’ll get you for this.”

“Hey, you’re in charge now,” I grin. “You can always order me to be dragged behind one of the RVs.”

“I might just do that,” he says.

“You will not,” Stella snaps. “Don’t you even try.”

Critter keeps grumbling as folks stand and approach him. There’s a lot of hand shaking and back slapping, but I don’t pay too much attention to it as I see Elsbeth slowly make her way from the building.

“You think she’ll be alright?” I ask Stella.

“You’re worried about El? When I just reamed you out in front of everyone?” Stella laughs. “You are fucked up, Jason Stanford.”

“No argument there,” Greta says.

“It’s a documented fact,” Charlie adds.

“Fuck you all,” I smirk. “You suck.”

***

It takes two more days to get everything together so we can head out on the road. Fifteen RVs with miscellaneous vehicles interspersed to act as flanking guards and also to block any attacks. One of the vehicles is Critter’s Jeep, which he insisted he would drive, until he was told by everyone that as leader he had to be in one of the RVs.

He was not happy, to say the least.

Everything is distributed evenly amongst the RVs based on how many occupants there are. If anyone gets separated, they’ll have a fighting chance to keep going for at least a little while. However, with a total of fifteen RVs, all armored and outfitted for combat travel, it would be pretty surprising if anything can separate us.

But, hey, surprising is the theme of the apocalypse apparently.

At least that’s what I’m thinking as we only get a half mile down the road and the convoy has to come to a stop. It was decided that I would ride up in the second to the front RV with my family. We also have Stuart, John, Elsbeth, Reaper, and all the Fitzpatricks, including Melissa. Critter is up in the front RV with Lourdes and that’s where the order to stop comes from over the radio.

“What you got, Uncle Critter?” Buzz asks over the radio.

“A bit of a snag,” Critter says. “Looks like we have a bunch of cannies that want a word with us before we go.”

“Cannies?” Buzz asks. “Just run them down.”

“Well, that was my first thought, but they’re waving white flags and shit,” Critter replies. “I believe they’d like a parlay.”

“What? Are we pirates?” I laugh.

“Jace wants to know if we’re pirates,” Buzz relays.

“That was a joke,” I say then see Buzz’s smirk.

“Tell Long Pork to get his butt up here since they want to speak with him directly,” Critter replies and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t know what that boy did, but we ain’t goin’ nowhere until he fixes it.”

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Come on,” Elsbeth sighs. “I’ll go with you.”

“We’re all going,” Stella says then looks at the kids, “except for you two. Stay put.”

“Yeah, not a problem,” Charlie says.

“You couldn’t make me go out there,” Greta adds.

“I’ll stay with them,” Melissa says. “I have had my fill of cannies.”

“And Pup will still be in the driver’s seat,” Buzz says, “in case we need to move fast.”

“Then let the parlay begin,” I sigh. “Awesome.”

We all leave the RV and make our way to the first one where Critter and Lourdes are waiting. I glance back and see a PC settling themselves on top of each of the RVs, their rifles and carbines at the ready.

“What did you do?” Critter grins at me as we proceed towards the crowd of post-apocalyptic misfits that block the road.

“Mr. Stanford! Jace!” a man says from the front of the crowd. He’s dressed in ratty cargo shorts and a torn tee shirt, but with a spotless top hat covering his head. He takes the hat off and bows. “It is nice to meet on much friendlier terms.”

I don’t really recognize the man, but I do recognize the voice.

“Mr. Flips?” I ask.

“The one and only,” Mr. Flips replies as he dons his hat once more. “It was a little dark when we met first so I am not surprised you didn’t realize who I was right away.”

“What the fuck do you want?” I snap. “You can wave those white flags all you want, but you fucking put me and my family into Cannibal Road! I should let the PCs shoot the fuck out of you!”

The white flag waving stops and I see nothing but fear as the canny group turns its attention to Mr. Flip.

The cannie announcer swallows hard and clears his throat. “Yes, well, you would be within your rights.”

“Don’t get him started on rights,” Critter grins then steps forward. “Hell, don’t bother talkin’ to the fool at all. Apparently, I’m the idiot in charge around here, so say what you need to say to me.”

“Ah, well, alright, mister…”

“Critter. Ain’t no mister in front of it,” Critter says. “I ain’t as fancy as someone called Mr. Flips.”

“What do you want, Flips?” I ask.

“We’d like to come with you,” Mr. Flips replies as he gestures to the crowd of about thirty cannies behind him. “Some scouts have returned from their outings and informed us that you have quite an angry hornet’s nest looking for you. Unfortunately, they will have to come our way to get to you. While not all agree, and the majority has stayed behind, I came to the conclusion that it would be better to join you on the run than stay behind and hope we meet mercy.”

“Ain’t no mercy for cannies,” Elsbeth says.

“No truer words have been spoken,” Mr. Flips nods.

“We do not have the room or resources for this many people,” Lourdes says. “Even if we agreed to have a bunch of killers join our ranks.”

“More true words,” Mr. Flips replies. “But we wouldn’t be a burden on you at all. We have our own vehicles and supplies. We would just like to benefit from your expertise and the safety numbers provide.”

“Fuck you,” Stella says.

“I’m going to have to agree with my wife, Flips,” I shrug. “She does have a point there.”

“We’ll train behind you and won’t mix with your party unless we are invited,” Mr. Flips says. “And every person here has sworn they will no longer consume human meat. No harm will come to a single hair in your convoy from us. This I can swear on my life.”

“Give us a second, will ya?” Critter asks and motions for us to take a few steps back and huddle up. “What do y’all think?”

All eyes fall on me.

“Hey, I’m not in charge,” I say, but keep speaking before the insults fly my way. “Yet he makes an argument about the safety in numbers thing. We are bound to lose a percentage of the convoy at some point. Having the cannies with us may mean they are that percentage instead of us.”

“We keep them as decoys?” Stuart asks. “Let them take the heat when we get attacked?”

“They ride in shitty pickups and motorcycles,” I say. “If anyone will be targets it’ll be them first.”

“How democratic of you,” Lourdes smirks.

“When in Rome…” I reply.

“Then they come with,” Critter says. “We don’t trust them, we don’t let them out of our sight, and we don’t ever let them catch us off guard. We do this and eyes are open from the get go.”

“Sounds like a plan, boss,” I say.

“Damn right,” Critter says and turns back to Mr. Flips and his canny crew. “Y’all can come with, but we will be watchin’ you. You make one wrong move and it’s all over. There will be no warnin’ and no second chances. You’re joinin’ a bunch of folk that know how to kill and puttin’ some cannies down will not make half of us blink.”