The Desolate
Chapter Two - Inhumane

It was still dark when my eyes opened, with only the first hint of light on the horizon creeping through the small window. It was always better to make an early start on the day in the deep desert, but my head spun as I sat up, immediately hit by what could only be an alcohol-induced hangover. I sighed and got up, taking some water out of my bag, and sipping it slowly at first. I sat down on the edge of bed for a few more minutes, allowing my body and my mind a moment to wake up. Finishing off nearly half a liter of filtered water from the bottle. It was much more than I would normally allow myself in a single sitting, but since I would soon be buying a lot more, I allowed myself a second luxury in as many days.

Reluctantly I stood up from what would almost certainly be the last comfortable bed I ever used, and went into a small bathroom area, relieving myself of my normal bodily functions, before quickly washing myself off using the faucet. This was the closest thing to a bath I'd get for a while, and it did the job. It was almost certainly grey water running in the pipes, so it was probably not suitable for drinking, but it was fine for everything else. I had no doubt, that many of the other guests drank it without thinking, especially around here where clean water could get very expensive. Personally, I made a point of avoiding water when I had not had the chance to filter it myself unless I was desperate. I’d seen far too many people get very sick over the years from contaminated fluids of various kinds.

After eating a small meal of preserved vegetables from a small jar, I slung my rifle over my shoulder and bid farewell to the hotel and the central part of New Alice for the last time. I made my way out of the sturdy brick building near the central district of the town and left along a recently repaired section of paved road. It seemed that the New Alice leadership was trying to bring back some old-world luxuries in recent years. And paved roads seemed to be the latest effort. Since New Alice was at the heart of what was left of civilization, it received a constant stream of merchants, travelers, slave traders, and people from almost every part of the continent, good roads made sense as a subtle way of displaying to the other settlements the ‘virtue’ and ‘prosperity’ of New Alice. I even ran into a man and his wife a few weeks early that had come from a settlement about a thousand kilometers further south than a settlement near Lake Eyre that had heard of this shit hole. Traders apparently, and I had no doubt they left disappointed if they left at all.

I walked along the street where people had already begun to set up their stores for the day, there were a few trucks that appeared to be in working condition probably brought in by nearby settlements to transport various commodities for trade. That was certainly not unusual, this area buzzed with activity on a nearly daily basis, and the markets and trade were by far the biggest draw card for the town. The weather, too, was very calm and cool, but I had no doubt it would get very warm by mid-morning as it did almost every day. As it was, only the first hints of sunlight were creeping above the top of the buildings by that point.

I wasted no time in making my way over to Rick’s store that morning, it was just a few streets away from the central district, and just off the main highway south, which I preferred to avoid if I could.

New Alice itself had been built almost entirely on top of the ruins of an old-world town that once had a similar name, and many of its sturdier buildings had been restored and repurposed for various new-world activities and industries. Most of the once paved roads were either in the process of or had long decayed, slowly crumbling away from years of neglect except for those around the central district. Other areas of the road had been replaced by large stones and rocks that had been smoothed off and embedded by compacted dirt and gravel for vehicles to move through the streets easily. But like most things from the old world, it was all slowly being reclaimed by nature. The ruins of the old town were in even worse shape still, with almost everything having been left to the elements outside of a few blocks and a few streets for housing. Most of the town had long since crumbled into the surrounding desert leaving little more than a few sturdy walls where there had once been a house or a store. Time had not been kind to what was left of the old world, and to the people included, the desert could be a cruel master. It had probably claimed more lives than zombies in recent years, and yet the largest portion of human civilization clung to life in such harsh environmental conditions.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long to reach Rick’s shop. The old storefront had been restored to something resembling its former glory. And when I stepped inside, I was the only customer. Two women were hurriedly setting up displays on shelving and various cabinets. One of which I recognized as Rick’s ‘wife’, a woman he had simply decided to ‘keep’ when he first began trading in slaves nearly twenty years earlier. God knows if she loved or even liked Rick, but she’d given him a son and a daughter, and that was enough for him to keep her around long after her looks had faded. I never did learn her name, but she was always polite and well-mannered as far as I could tell and basically ran the store while Rick focused on other aspects of his business. The other woman seemed new. She was young, maybe in her late teens at most, with short dark hair and an overly thin face that hinted at her standard of living for quite some time. “Good morning!” I said, announcing my arrival as I looked over a small selection of boots on a nearby wall.

The older woman offered a smile, as recognition set in as she greeted me by the entrance with a slight bow of the head, “Good morning, Sir. I will let my husband know you have arrived.” She said as she turned and hurried to the rear of the store. The other woman seemed to stiffen in my presence as she continued her work, her hands shaking as she laid out a selection of different kinds of leather armor on a table.

I sighed and tried to ignore the girl, browsed the shelves, looking through the bladed weapons Rick was telling me about the day before that had been set out on a table along the far wall. My fingertips reached out and gently ran over the steel, gently tracing the sharpened edge of each blade. They were sharp, and the steel had the feel of real quality, and I couldn’t help but wonder how those fuckin’ savages in the north had managed to get enough heat to forge this kind of steel. But then again, there were ancient techniques that might have done the job if they had anyone up there who could still read. The handles were of hardened compressed wood of some kind and painted the same dark grey that stained the metal. The craftsmanship was of very high quality, no doubt about it, and the quality of the steel seemed almost as good as some of the older tools I had acquired over the years. “I take it you see something you like!” Rick said with a broad smile as he approached, his hand reaching out as we greeted each other in the customs of the old world, shaking hands.

“There is always something of interest in here Rick, it is simply a question of price.”

“How in the hell did those savages manage this?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Rick laughed and said, “It surprised me too, if I were to guess, it’s the new leadership up north. New Davenport has really changed from what I hear. The fella running things there was Elias, but I think it's some local up there now.”

I stared for a moment, recognizing the name at once. “I only know one man with that name, and if it were indeed the same one, it made sense.”

Rick stared for a moment, then said, “An exchange of info then, I’ll offer a discount of 10% on any of these blades you want.” He laughed. “You always bring quality stuff with you, my friend, and you’re always honest. For that, I will always do my best to look after you.” He turned to the younger girl and said, “Gracie, will you get my friend a glass of water!”

She gave me an anxious look before I offered a small thankful nod to the girl, turning my attention back to Rick. I unslung my rifle and leaned it against the counter before taking out the items I had bought him to trade. Placing the leather pouch and a small canvas bag on the counter, as Rick began checking their contents. His brow raised as he shook his head. “Fools and their money my friend—those dumb shits in the central district will pay a fortune for this shit!” he declared as he emptied out the collection of old-world gold jewelry laying it out on the counter. “Those Bishops are obsessed with this stuff, and all of their friends too!”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it still amazes me what people will pay for this stuff, but I will take what I can get for it.”

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, some people really have lost sight of the world we are really living in my friend. Still, they will pay, and I will gladly sell at the prices they are willing to offer. After all, it was one key lesson from my youth before all this shit started - something is worth whatever someone is willing to pay for it.”

I shrugged, knowing that his implication included people in the word ‘something’. But it wasn’t a subject I was interested in broaching with the man, certainly not on this visit. Pushing my distaste for slavery aside, I replied: “I suppose you’re right!” He then opened the other bag and ran his hand through the assorted collection of ammunition, books, and a few other assorted items. “There are thirty-seven 9mm, forty-one .22s, and thirty-one of these 5.57 rounds and a handful of .44 rounds in that bag.”

“And any info you have on that Elias fella; I need to know who I’m dealing with in this business. Because I hear he's been sent west to set up some new compound on the way to Corinth. I was thinking about a trade mission.” Rick said as he ran his fingers through the ammunition, “But with these, you’re talking my language, Jack!” He handed the bag to the older woman, as his ‘wife’ dutifully began counting the rounds on the counter. “I’m guessing you spent most of those .44s you had last night then?” He joked.

“I did!” I confessed, letting out a wry smile.

“Booze, women, or both?” He laughed, before letting out a shrug. “Not that I care, you’ve always got to enjoy the little things in life, Jack. It’s all any of us have these days really.”

I laughed and offered a small nod of agreement with his sentiment. Booze certainly helped to numb the mind from reality at times. “Yeah, most of it was on booze! Mick had a bottle of old scotch on the shelf that was far too good to pass up.”

Rick just shrugged. “I’m more of a beer drinker myself, but whatever makes you happy, my friend!” He then turned the subject back to business. “How many of those 30-06 rounds were you after?”

“Two boxes if you have them, and a few bottles of distilled water for the road was my main goal. After that, it’ll depend on how much credit you’re offering for the gold and the info.”

He shook his head in reply. “The first two are easily done with ammo alone. But that jewelry is going to make a small fortune here. And the info will depend on how good it is. But you can take any of those blades you want, and there’ll be enough left over for a slave or two if you want them. I have way too many as it is right now, so you can take your pick, I’d rather not send them off to the savages in the north if I can help it. Any of the women except the top tier. But I’d let you have one of them for a night or two if you prefer to keep it short-term.” He laughed, explaining, “Hell, I even took a second wife, I’ve got so many out in the warehouse.” As he gestured to the young girl who had returned with a glass of water, placing it in front of me before returning to her work.

I kept my cards close to my chest about the slaves, Rick knew my feelings on the matter, but I wasn’t about to open old wounds on that front. In any case, more ammunition and water would do just fine for the road, I could always make use of those. I wandered back over to the blades taking a machete off the shelf and placing it on the counter. “You know I’m not into slaves Rick, but I’ll definitely take this off your hands, and some additional ammo and water.”

“No worries, Jack, I get it!” He said, “How about that info?”

I nodded as I placed the blade down on the counter, while the younger woman returned with my water before Rick handed her a slip of paper and a list of items that I was after. Once she was out of earshot I said, “Elias is ex, or maybe current New Alice military. As I understand it, he is close to Isaiah Bishop.”

“Yeah, I know Isi. I imagine he’d have some more details about the man as well?” Rick said.

“I’d guarantee it, Isi was his commanding officer during the Northern War. We went through some shit together up there.” I explained.

“You fought with them?” He asked.

“Yeah, we were part of an assault team that took Davenport and Costello to the east. After the war, the old man gave Isaiah the governorship our west to get him out of the way and Elias and I stayed on for a few years cleaning up any resistance to New Alice's rule up there, it was nasty work. The last I heard Elias had been stationed up there to run security in the region, but I’m guessing he got a promotion.”

Rick stared at me, thinking over the information, before asking, “Is there anything else I need to know? What kind of man is he to deal with?”

I shrugged and said, “I was his commanding officer, so it’s hard to say for sure. But he was a good kid, Isaiah, Jimmy, and I found him on a recon mission in the north maybe eight or nine years ago. Half starved, living off whatever he could scavenge. He was maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. He was pretty much raised in the barracks in New Alice, Isaiah took him in as soon as he was trained up. He’s loyal, I can tell you that much, especially to Isi.”

Then as I finished speaking, two men walked into the store, their faces etched with matching scowls with their eyes having sunk slightly into their skulls. They were likely nutrient deficient, which was not a surprise given their primary diet. They were obviously northern tribesmen, and they certainly didn’t look like the friendly sort. “Good morning, gentlemen!” Rick said, forcing a smile, as one of them appeared to be crewing on a strip of dried meat. I shook my head, realizing immediately what it probably was, but Rick was probably used to it at that point as he continued seemingly unaffected, “What can I do for you?”

“Trade!” One of the men said as they approached, placing a large bag of ammunition on the counter in a thumb as the sound of rustling brass sounded. “Bishop said you might have too much stock, we’re here to rate and collect. Minimum twelve.” The man said in a deep voice, before turning to me and growling. “Got a problem?”

Fuck, I hate these people! “Not at all, gentlemen!” I swallowed, turning back to Rick, knowing he was about to send a dozen people off to be slaughtered. I had a sudden urge to just take one or two off Rick’s hands just so they wouldn’t get their hands on them. And as the thought crossed my mind, I spoke without thinking it through fully, “How much for a couple of slaves?”

Rick nodded an acknowledgment, then turned to the two men. “Let me finish with my friend here, and I’ll meet you out in the stockyard in just a few minutes, my stock hand out back will take you to the cages to start your assessments.”

The one that was doing the talking simply nodded and then turned to walk out of the store before the other followed. The ‘stockyard’ as Rick called it was an old warehouse behind the store where Rick kept his slaves. Starting a fight seemed like a very bad idea in the middle of New Alice, and frankly, I was no hero, despite that underlying urge to do the right thing in this case. But if Rick was willing to sell me a couple of slaves and stop them from being turned into some asshole’s next meal, then I would do it. “How ’bout it, Rick?”

His voice turned into a whisper as he said, “I can give two at their price, I’m no fuckin’ saint, Jack. If you want to save them, then that’s on you; it’s your water.” He was clearly uneasy by the presence of the two men, who obviously made him as uncomfortable as they did me. I couldn’t blame the guy; he had a business to run and a life to live and making enemies in this place never ended well.

He had a point, two slaves with the water he had given me would be a big stretch on the road, and I am certainly no saint myself I reasoned. Making an enemy of Rick was certainly not my intention either, so I took the machete back to the shelf and swapped it for a smaller but good quality knife with a serrated back edge and said, “I’ll take this instead, and a little extra water for the road and just one of your girls.”

The smile returned to his face as he gave me a nod, “Smart man, remember my friend, don’t be trying to fix the world. We didn’t fuck it up, we just got left the mess. We just live in it now.” I nodded in agreement understanding his logic and he continued in a friendlier tone, “Come out to the yard, and you can make a choice, no telling how many these fuckers will want, they say twelve, but it’s usually more. Hell, knowing them they’ll take the whole lot, and that’d be a fuckin’ tragedy, there are some real pretty ones in there if I do say so myself. Hell, I might even take another wife if they’re only going to turn them into jerky for these fuckers.”

I sighed and nodded, “Fuck it. Worst case, I have some extra water for traveling and let the poor girl go.”

Rick laughed. “Fuckin’ hell, Jack. At least take advantage of the situation. I bet it’s been years since you used something other than your hand on that cock.” He wasn’t wrong, but rape wasn’t my thing either any more than slavery. But I let his comments go, once again opting for diplomacy on the matter.

I laughed off his comment as we walked out through the fenced-off area of the stockyard and into the warehouse where the other two men were browsing through the two separated cages on each side of the large room that were each filled with what he called ‘low’ quality slaves. The two men from the north seemed to be making a list as they perused the cage on the left filled with a dozen skinny young men as if they were selecting livestock, but then again that’s exactly what they were doing. They seemed to be estimating height, weight, and suitability for their needs. The thought still made me shudder, and for a moment, I pictured myself being in one of those cages. Along the back wall was another set of smaller cages with individual women and men inside, and it was easy to see why. The men were clearly robust and perfectly suited to hard labor, the women had clearly been set aside for other physical attributes and no doubt would serve other duties. But my focus became the large cage near the entrance of the warehouse on the right-hand side.

I turned to Rick, who was guiding me towards the cage filled with young women who were in various states of health each of them covered head to toe in their own filth. The cage smelt like shit and piss and hadn’t been properly cleaned in God knows how long. Several nearly full buckets in the corner of the cage were easily discernible as the source of the smell, but more than a few had simply decided to make a mess anywhere they could. Some of the women were in their early teens, maybe twelve or thirteen years old at the most, while others seemed to vary in age quite widely, from their late teens to their late twenties or older in one or two cases. The look of terror in their eyes was unmistakable; they knew what the two men were there for. It was nearly enough to make me sick in the stomach, and that was before the smell hit me. Instinctively my hand gently palmed the pistol that was still in its holster on my hip as I closed my eyes and tried desperately to calm my mind.

Then, Rick’s voice brought me back to reality, speaking in the same tone he reserved for his best customers, “Take your pick, Jack; which one of these lucky fuckers gets to live.”

The looks of terror soon shifted to sobs and cries then one woman stepped forward with a girl next to her that looked no more than eleven or twelve years old. “Please, sir. Please take my daughter, please!” she begged; her tears fell as she pleaded.

I sighed looking down, as several other women stepped forward, making similar claims about the younger girls in the group. They were clearly desperate and would say anything, though the bruising on some of the younger girls said a lot. I was in no position to care for a child, and knowing the northerners were unlikely to eat them eased my mind slightly. They would likely use them to replenish their numbers. It was unfortunate, but there was little I could do to help them. Only one of the adult women sat in the corner saying nothing, making no case for herself. She just glared at me, sporting what appeared to be a black eye and several bruises like the younger girls as well as having been smeared with shit at some point recently. And still, she made no effort to beg for her life. Her messy red hair spilled down over her beaten face and filthy torn dress that barely covered her body which was little more than skin and bone. But there was still fire in her eyes, a sense of defiance that caught my eye, she didn’t have nearly the same kind of desperation that the others. And that was something I might be able to work with. She held on to some sense of pride in herself, despite her appearance. And I got the sense that under it all, she was very pretty, probably even more so than many of the women along the back wall. Most likely, the traits that I found appealing were the very ones that had landed her in this cage to begin with.

It was quite understandable that most of them would say or do anything to survive, but that was simply not something I was equipped to deal with on the road. Certainly not when I considered the peace and ease that I thought of my own death. Theft or a knife in the back seemed likely with most of them, and despite my desire to die, I preferred it to be on my own terms. If not that, then I would be expected to carry them for their whole life in exchange, probably for sex, or maybe the occasional cooked meal. In either case, it was not something I found appealing. I could live without either honestly, but I didn’t want whoever I picked to simply come right back as many slaves did after escaping. So, my decision, in the end, was an easy one, and it wasn’t made based on her looks as many of the women growled and angrily berated me for my selection. They threw slaps and punches at the red-headed girl as she moved through the crowd towards the entrance, one of them knocking the girl off balance. I pulled my gun on one of the older women who had struck the girl hard, “Back the fuck off!” I growled.

Once the girl was outside of the cage, she stood in front of me, staring into my eyes with a slight glare—defiance, anger, rage, and a strong will to fight all present in her eyes. She was wearing a light-coloured though extremely dirty dress that went down to her knees. It was badly torn, and she would need better clothing and shoes for the desert, but I didn’t have the means to purchase those things from Rick. I stepped forward, causing the girl to flinch slightly, as I raised my hand gently taking the girl's chin and assessing the bruising. It was light, and most likely not done by a whip as Rick might have done had he been punishing an unruly slave—instead, it seemed as though the women in the cage had formed a pecking order of sorts and the younger ones like this girl were not only slaves to Rick but servants to the older women in the cage as well.

“Come!” I said calmly, nodding to the girl as the other two men stepped forward to the cage and began assessing the woman exactly as they had done for the men.

Rick nodded to me once before leading me back into the store with the girl just behind us, her ankles shackled and chained so she wouldn’t be able to run or move too quickly. Something that would need to change once we were out of New Alice. “A good choice, my friend!” Rick said warmly, “Take good care and don’t forget your things. I can have the boys out back clean her up a bit if you want?”

I nodded my thanks to Rick, and said, “No, that’s fine, I’ll organize something.” I gathered my backpack and loaded it with the water and several small containers of food that Rick threw in for good measure along with a small pouch for my new knife. I clipped the blade to my belt before I threw the bag over my back and said, “Thanks, Rick, it’s always a pleasure.”

“Anytime, Jack!” He said with a smile as he tossed me a small key and waved just once before heading back out to the stockyard.

“Let’s go!” I said to the girl as I walked out of the store and back into the street without checking to see if she was following. It was still early, but the sun had finally moved above the horizon. Thankfully the heat had not yet settled in, but it wouldn’t be long, and I wanted to get at least a few kilometres out of town as quickly as possible.

I nodded my thanks to the older Rick’s ‘wives’ as she scrubbed the front of the store and left, with the girl trailing behind me. I took in a few deep breaths once I was clear of the store and the oppressive atmosphere that hung over it. The girl was keeping up with my walking pace, though she was taking two steps for every one of mine, her shackles clearly hindering her stride. We moved through the market area and out onto what was left of the old highway which led south out of New Alice. It was little more than a dust-covered dirt road with a few exposed areas of tar where the wind had blown clear the dust. But there were a few creek beds just out of the town to stop and figure out what the hell I was going to do about my unexpected company.