When We Shed Civilization

Chapter 10

They had stayed under the bridge until the chopper's call had faded, and then some more, saying little. Beth had spent the time leaning against a concrete wall, watching the loitering gangers.

Finally, Leo had ordered them to continue.

Now, they walked under the fist of noon. The dusty street and the derelict houses on both sides of it amplified the heat. Without mercy, the sun fried the skin that Beth's silly, stylish blouse left exposed.

Even at its fringes and despite the hot weather, the city made her shiver. The place belonged to the dead—to all the people who had perished in the years of chaos.

And it belonged to the gangs. In these alleys and gutted buildings, violence ruled, and hunger held its sway. Culture and morals had long been discarded as useless ballast.

"I'll take her for a while." Leo's voice tore her from her thoughts.

"Sure, boss." Spike handed him the rope that tied Beth's wrists, then he moved ahead, joining the twins, and taking one end of the woman's stretcher.

Beth watched Leo from the corner of her eye, curious about his intentions.

He cleared his throat. "That medbay, could it heal Flora, for real?" He pointed at the woman the others carried.

"I..." Beth hesitated. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

The medbay had become less reliable over the years. Corinna, her ersatz-mother and mentor, had told Beth that it had been built to function for a long time. But it needed raw materials and replacement parts to run, and they could not provide them all.

"Its powers are dwindling each time we use it, draining from it," Beth said. "And predicting its remaining capabilities is beyond our ken."

Leo took a deep breath but said nothing.

His ties to that woman held power—Burt was right about that. And they rendered him weak. But exploiting this kind of weakness felt so wrong.

"Trying is the only way to learn what the medbay can do." The moment she said this, Beth realized that Dan would never agree to use the device on a ganger. The medbay was reserved for emergencies. Seaside emergencies.

"Would you people agree to help Flora?"

"I... doubt it."

False hope brought nothing but despair while truth, a harsh mistress, made her listeners stronger.

"But," she added, "didn't you say that you have a doctor?"

"Doc Faith, yes. But she can't work miracles. She has no medbay."

The heavy silence that her words followed pained Beth. She yearned to say something, anything, to lighten it, but words failed her.

"Spike?" he shouted.

Once Leo had passed her leash back to Spike, the party continued without discourse. The effort and heat made Beth breathe hard.

She wondered if Burt had listened in on this conversation. She turned her head to locate him—he was far behind, walking with the giant. He wouldn't have heard what Leo had said.

Nor did he need to know.

A dog barked somewhere in the distance. Dan had told her that the animals roamed the city in packs, dangerous, hungry, and fierce, best avoided.

They passed a front of houses on their left—like a rotting row of teeth. Some had collapsed while others still defied time and gravity.

Anything could lurk there.

Involuntarily, Beth's footsteps slowed, and she let herself fall back to walk beside Spike. He was a child of this place, after all. His scar said so loud and clear. He would know his way around.

"You look as if you'd just seen your own death, lady," he said.

"My death, my nemesis, my downfall," she gestured at the ruins. "You may call this place any vile name you want. It would be apt and proper."

Spike shrugged and spat some herbs he had been chewing on. "Vile or apt, you can call it whatever old word you want. And I guess these are bad words. But you haven't seen bad yet. Downtown, that's where the city is bad. This here is the good part. Just wait until you see HQ. That's where we live. It's beyond the next intersection." He gestured at an open area some dozen steps ahead. The rusted bodies of defunct cars cluttered it. Leo was threading his way through them and turned right. The twins carrying the woman—Flora—strode close behind him.

When she and Spike arrived at the intersection, Beth found herself at one end of a large square, big enough to provide room for several of Seaside's swimming pools. Beyond it, a wide building dominated the scenery. Its facade was three stories high and curved. A row of arches along its base had been closed up with stones, bricks, or metal sheets. Small windows ran along its top floor.

One arch had a door in it. Its wings were wide open. A gray-haired man holding a bow stood guard at its side.

"Is that it?" She asked. "Your HQ looks like an old stadium to me, for football or baseball."

Spike stood erect and grinned. "Right. We're the Baseballers."

"The Baseballers? Like the people playing that old sport, the one with the balls, bats, and gloves?"

Spike urged her forward, past the lonely guard. "Right, we've got bats. And the helmets. And the balls, of course, we've got them, too. Lots." He laughed.

The entrance took them into a long, cavernous tunnel, its shade cool after the sun outside. She took a deep breath of relief and wondered if Spike had talked about baseball bats or the type of bats that lurked in caves, in places like this one. She couldn't ask him, though, because she found herself walking next to Rock.

The man's towering presence intimidated her. She walked closer to the wall.

He frowned at her over his wild beard. "We'll take you to Hammer," he said. "He's the boss here."

He hadn't said much so far. His voice rumbled through the hollow passage even though he spoke softly.

"Be nice to him," he continued. "Your fancy talk would neither be apt nor proper in his presence."

For a moment, she was too stunned to comment on his use of these two words. Then they reached the end of the tunnel, and he fell back while Spike pushed her forward, out into the light.

Her guess had been right. She had seen stadiums in tech age vids, and this was a big one. A vast oval of stands surrounded a green field under an open sky. Most of the seats were gone, leaving bare concrete steps looking down on the central ground. Plants grew there, in all sizes and in shades of green.

Greenery like that was rare in world—a treasure.

"Oh, you've got water," she said.

"Right, woman." The smile distorting Spike's face looked pleased. "We've got a well, a really deep one. You can even drink the water if you boil it." He patted the concrete wall at his side. "And our old stadium protects our village from the other gangs." He gestured at a group of huts clinging to the tiers on the left side, surrounding a larger, more solid building in their midst.

As they turned in that direction, people emerged from the houses or the narrow alleys between them, shouting greetings or calling their companions.

Most of them were kids in ragged clothing, and the few adults were well past their prime and clad no better.

Spike stepped forward and tugged at her leash. "Let's move on. Hammer doesn't like waiting."