Dystopia Chapter 25: Barrio Hollywood

“Barrio Hollywood,” I said.

“You mean where we ran from, leaving our mark in Concreteville?” Frank asked.

“Actually, it’s beyond that, in the valley.”

“What happened to keeping a low profile?” Brett asked.

“Decision time. I’ve been running for several years, and at every turn, others have scripted my future. The committee, fate itself — both have dictated my tomorrows.”

“So,” Cord added, “is there a plan?”

“Scout teams have been visiting all around this region, losing team members, returning with next to nothing,” Addison said.

“You are right; now’s the time to step up, take a chance. The risk will increase; still, we need to find out what is available and who is in charge. Someone is closing in. It feels personal.”

“How do we pull this off?” Frank asked.

“I don’t know.”

Taking a deep breath, I imagined how we would do this. We have nothing to trade. No ready cash. I closed my eyes and considered various scenarios. Getting in should be easy enough. It’s getting back out that is more complex, with rogue gangs waiting for easy prey to appear. Wagons weighed down.

Expect gang encounters: ten to twelve armed, defiant, overconfident, but untrained individuals.

Lots of talk. Made me wonder how much individually they will invest, their lives? What’s it worth to face off? To engage. Maybe a few are actually crazy enough to step over the line when confronted by a psychopath. False bravado masking fear. How well will they handle pandemonium, a confrontation? What about their mounts? Any motorized vehicles? Their skills. A showy display of bravado that crumbles when tested.

“Frank — you and I will head out mid-afternoon. You will drive the wagon, one horse tied to the back. Be chatty. The story is simple: we are looking for a few supplies; we need some food, cheap, will spend the night, and let them know we’ll be heading out the next day. In the wagon, we will have a few odds and ends. When approached, inquire who we might trade with, where, etc. Whatever info you can glean. Make a friend.”

“And if they want to know who we are?” Frank asked.

“Never lie. We need to know what they know, and it’s too hard to keep track of lies.”

I continued. “The rest will arrive at dinnertime, each with a mount in tow. Your story. Looking for a blacksmith. You’re dirty, tired, looking for a meal, a place to crash for the evening, a space, cheap, maybe under a tree. You will spend the next day getting the horses cared for, scouting about, while trying to be invisible. Learn what you can; note places, events, people; be discreet. Try to avoid trouble. Hopefully, no one will get the urge to challenge our presence.”

“Meanwhile, Frank and I will beg, borrow, trade for, or steal the best we can in the few hours we will be in town. When we leave, we leave together quickly. Brett, you handle the wagon, while Frank will be back at shotgun.”

“May I make one suggestion, a modification?” Addison added. “Frank’s a great talker, but seriously, I’ll attract more eyes, more of a distraction, and helpful — can chat up other females without riling some possessive dude.”

“Makes sense,” Diana said.

“Sure.”

“What about getting out of town? We’ve got to travel uphill, pass by Concreteville,” Joshua added.

Silence.

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