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Mr. Maddox cautiously leads the occupying team forward, including several families, artisans, and muscle, the goal, stabilizing the proximity. The work began. Still…
Invariably! Without fail, someone will challenge the change. This day it would be our new ‘friend’ Mike or, Mikey and a couple of companions.
Several hours have passed. Late afternoon. Here they come.
Once halfway to the wagon, security, including Mr. Maddox intervened, ordered the group to, “stop, please, the agreement we would not trespass on each other’s space.”
Emphasizing. “This is doable, but two at a time and with a tour guide. Surely you want us to respect your property.”
Mikey insist, “I want, or rather we want, you gone, your gang of intruders. That decision made by another and, since we are here, think we’ll look around. So, step aside.”
Couple of hours and already trouble has arrived. Everyone is on alert, tense, as I approach the uninvited visitors. This should have been a no brainier, benefits for all.
Hoping to deescalate the confrontation, smiled. “If you want to make this transition easy for everyone, here is the nonnegotiable. This space, this area, is now ours and as promised we will secure it, and protect this end of your building, coordinate with your folks roadway access to our common area, provide medical assistance, and thinking we’ll offer to drill for water, if water is even possible. Finally, if anyone enters this lot without permission, we’ll confront them and invite them to leave.”
The group appearing restless, considering their options… okay, “So, we will provide this white arm band, tie it around your arm, and it will be your ticket in… for now leave, then bring back one individual at a time that requires medical assistance, no weapons…”
“We choose to look around.”
This is not going well. “So where is Les?”
“Occupied for the moment,” grinning, “charged with treason, I’m the interim director, the mayor of our community and upon a re-vote, decided you all need to… leave. But please leave your materials, for which we are most appreciative.”
The first time I killed a man, I felt ill, guilty for weeks, couldn’t sleep. Sadly, now, I get over it in a day. We have devalued life since before the turn of the century. Reporters reporting, videos in the news daily filming innocents being killed by the thousands in body bags or yet to be collected. Bodies decomposing in the streets. Buildings leveled. Death by denial of basic needs. Drones seeking targets while someone miles away, sitting in an air-conditioned room, snacks nearby, coffee in hand, erasing lives with little thought. Orders followed, scruples scarred as body counts rise. The story of humanity, except we had mastered the art and science of manslaughter. How we avoided a nuclear holocaust, I know not. Ineptitude? Today the rule, be the last one standing.
“You interested in a renegotiation?”
“Nope.”
“And you’re in charge?”
“Yep?”
“And, who is second in charge?”
Pause, “That makes no difference.”
“And you’re sure we cannot renegotiate?”
Voice raised, "I said, n…”
From my back holster, pulled my revolver. One shot ends his refusal. Just like him, the person on his right who tried to join the fight meeting the same fate. Meanwhile, Mr. Maddox and security personal, stationed behind the wagons, quickly neutralized those in the windows.
Unlike TV shootouts of old, this was over in seconds. I randomly select the next leader, aimed and...
“Don’t, please don’t,” he responds feebly, “We’re leaving.”
“You’re not leaving. Not until Les appears. The others are excused, peacefully. Your life depends on it.”
Without hesitation, he demands, “go get Les, now.”
Within minutes, Les appears, approaches and studies the bodies crumpled between us. Looks up, making eye contact. “Seriously?”
“Seriously, like I said recently, Mike needs to be a bit more diplomatic.”
Anyway, “Les, a gift, the white armband, your ticket in, others can only enter if you are present. Here is a second arm band. No more than one other at a time. Are we clear?”
“I really don’t want…”
“I don’t really give a damn what you want. As you can see, this day has not gone well. I’m tired. Hungry. You are the man in charge. We will respectively move the dead to your side of the fence. And a last suggestion: cover all the windows at this end of the building.”
“Mr. MADDOX, this is Mr. Les. Assist him please. He’ll need your help.”
The Scout Team’s members head home, tied, leaving the new ‘mayor’ and community to behave themselves. For now, back to the main campus completing the Committee’s directive, leaving bodies behind. Our reputation and bounties grow. We are no longer invisible. Sun slipping behind the horizon. Evenings are cooler now as we enter the Well, cleanup, eat dinner, and debrief, still hoping to hear from Brett and Cord… nothing.
Mike’s face, his ultimate expression etched in my mind. What have I become?
Community leaders sitting in a darkened room, snacks nearby, coffee in hand, pushing my buttons, the body count increasing.
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