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From: Al Steiner <steiner_al@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} NEW: Aftermath by Al Steiner-Chapter 3 (FM) 3/5
Date: Sat,  4 Nov 2000 03:10:04 -0500
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Aftermath 3 3/5
Send comments to steiner_al@hotmail.com
Missing chapters can be found at www.storiesonline.net


He was marched to a three-story building that stood in the middle of a
small park just inside the main gate to the subdivision.  Several
vehicles, including a green fire engine and a grass fighting truck that
had belonged to the California Department of Forestry, were parked out
front.  From the bottom floor windows came the glow of multiple oil
lamps burning within.

"What's this place?" Brett asked his captors as they entered the
parking lot.

"It used to be our community center," the woman named Mitsy replied.
"Now we kind of use it as our headquarters."

"I see," Brett said, noting that they at least had guards posted out
here.  There were two of them before the front door; a male and a
female.  Like the two that had "captured" him, they were wearing rain
slickers and packing rifles.  When they saw him being led up to the
building at gunpoint they both jumped to their feet (they had been
sitting in chairs under the protective overhang of the roof) and rushed
over.

"Who's this?" the male guard asked, pointing his gun menacingly at
Brett's abdomen.  Brett saw that he was a younger man, probably no more
than nineteen or twenty.  He looked scared shitless.

"We caught him sitting on the wall," the flashlight bearing guard
replied.  "He wants to talk to the committee."

"He wants to do WHAT?" the other guard asked incredulously.  "And you
brought him here?"

"I think that maybe we're going to want to listen to what he has to
say," Mitsy said.  "He was very persuasive."

Brett stopped near the bottom of the steps that led up to the community
center door.  The male guard continued to point his rifle at him.
"Howdy," Brett told him, eyeing the kid's trigger finger nervously.  It
looked like he had about four pounds of pull already applied.  "I'm
unarmed now and I'll sit quietly anywhere you tell me to, but would you
mind pointing that gun downward a bit.  I sure wouldn't want any
accidents to happen."

"Shut up," the kid said toughly, not moving the barrel.  "I don't know
who the hell you think you are, but you can't just come walking in here
and..."

"Actually," Brett interrupted, "I DID just come walking in here.
That's why I want to talk to whoever is in charge of this joint, so
that it doesn't happen with someone a little more dangerous than I am.
So how about I go sit on those steps there and you go get whoever that
person is?"  Without waiting for a reply or even acknowledgment, he
turned around and plopped himself down on the cement steps.

The four guards all looked at each other in confusion for a moment.  It
was obvious to them that, even though they were the ones holding all
the weapons, they were somehow not in charge of the situation.  It was
Mitsy who finally spoke.  "Jeff," she said, addressing the male guard,
"are Jessica or Paul in there?"

"Uh... both of them," he answered.  "So is Dale."

"Go get them," she said.  "Tell them that we have a prisoner that has
some information that they're going to want to hear.  We'll wait here."

Jeff didn't seem too keen on this idea.  "What if he tries something
while I'm gone?" he asked, as if his mere presence would be enough to
prevent this occurrence.

"We got him this far," Mitsy said, a little impatiently.  "I think we
can safely watch him for the next couple of minutes.  Besides, as he so
dramatically pointed out to us earlier, if he had wanted to hurt us he
would have done it a long time ago.  Isn't that right?"

"That's right," Brett said, smiling up at her.

Jeff grumbled a few more times under his breath, but finally mounted
the stairs and disappeared through the double doors of the building.
The three guards watching Brett kept their distance from him and said
nothing while he was gone.  About two minutes later the doors opened
back up and two men stepped out.  They both had pistols in their hands
which they wasted no time in pointing at Brett.

Brett looked up at them placidly, keeping his hands up in the air.  The
man who came out of the door first was in his late twenties or early
thirties.  He was a very average looking person, of medium build with
short brown hair.  He looked a little tense but otherwise calm.
Immediately behind him was a much taller man, a man who looked big
enough to be a professional football linebacker.  He had a head of dark
blonde hair and he looked nearly as scared as Jeff, the young male
guard who had retrieved him.  Again, Brett became cognizant of just how
filthy and disgusting he looked, especially in contrast to the
townspeople.  They were all clean.  Not just un-filthy, but CLEAN, as
if they had been bathing regularly.

"Who the fuck are you?" the linebacker demanded, stepping forward and
towering over Brett.  "And how did you get in here?"

"My name is Brett Adams," he said, keeping his voice mild.  "Before the
comet I was a deputy with the San Joaquin County Sheriff's Department.
Before that, I was a warrant officer in the US Army.  I got in here by
walking unobserved over the canyon bridge."

"You're lying," the man accused.  "There's no way that anyone could
walk across that bridge without us seeing it.  You came in from the
north side."

"You have two guards stationed in a Chevy Suburban monitoring the
approach to the bridge with night vision equipped video cameras," Brett
said, spouting off details so they would know he was being truthful.
"The Suburban has a Toyota Landcruiser parked next to it.  You've run
coaxial cables and power cords from the Suburban to another set of SUVs
parked on the other end.  That's where the cameras are.  The guards
watch the take on small television sets from the other end."

The two males looked at him in surprise for a moment.  The linebacker
than yelled: "That doesn't mean anything!  He still coulda come in from
the north and seen all that!"

Brett turned his attention away from the linebacker, shifting it
instead to the smaller man, whom he suspected had more authority.  "I
did not come in from the north," he told him.  "I walked in here to
make a point to you.  Your bridge defense is flawed.  If I did it,
others can do it.  I could have led an entire attack force right to the
gates of this subdivision if I'd wanted to and you would have known
nothing about it until the first shot was fired."

"Bullshit," linebacker declared.  He turned to the smaller man.  "Paul,
we don't need to listen to this shithead anymore.  I'll take him back
out to the north side and throw him out."

"No," Paul said thoughtfully.  "I don't think we should do that just
yet."

"What?  What do you mean..."

"Tell me how you got in here Mr. Adams," Paul said.

"It wasn't very hard," he said, only lying a little bit.  "I located
your guard position just by watching you from the hill across the
bridge.  Every time you fire a shot down at someone trying to cross,
you give yourselves away.  You probably waste a lot of ammo as well.
Anyway, the smaller hill on the east side of the canyon is mostly
hidden from that position by the larger hill across the road from it.
I simply walked around and placed myself on the edge when it was
daylight.  Once it started to get dark and your guards set up the
nighttime position, I walked to the catwalk and climbed up onto it.
Your cameras aren't looking at that part of the bridge and the guards
couldn't see me because of the darkness.  I simply walked across and
came up BEHIND your guard position."

"You climbed up from the catwalk to the bridge in complete darkness?"
Paul asked, though his tone did not seem to be one of disbelief.

Brett shrugged.  "I memorized the layout from across the canyon while
it was still daylight.  That's another security problem you have.  I
shouldn't have been allowed to even get that close to the bridge in the
first place.  Once I was on the surface of the bridge it was nothing
more than a matter of walking into town along the shoulder of the
road.  You don't have to be able to see to do that.  I climbed up on
the security wall when I got there and waited for your two guards to
arrive."  He shook his head a little.  "It took much longer than it
should have.  You really should increase the interval of your perimeter
patrols."

"Hey, fuck you," yelled linebacker.  "Our security is not any of your
fuckin'..."

"Shut up Dale," Paul interrupted, his voice still even.

"You can't talk to me like that!" Dale shouted, turning on his own
now.  Obviously he had a bit of an anger management problem.  "You'd
better remember who you're talking to boy!  Remember who feeds you!"

Paul did not seem the least bit upset by this outburst.  Nor did he
seem intimidated by it.  "I'll remember," he said.  "Now why don't you
go get hold of the bridge guards on the radio and make sure they're all
right.  I don't think Mr. Adams hurt them but it's best we make sure."

"You're not gonna listen to this scumbag, are you?" Dale asked.

"Let's just say that he's captured my attention for the moment," Paul
answered.  "Now go check on the bridge guards and then meet me in the
conference room.  If Jess is not already in there, send her that way."

Dale grumbled and postured a few more times but finally disappeared
back through the double doors.  Paul didn't watch him go.  He kept his
eyes on Brett.

"Are you carrying any weapons on you Mr. Adams?" Paul asked.

"Not anymore. Your two guards took my pistol from me.  The rest of my
weapons are back at my camp across the canyon."

"Very good.  But you'll understand if I make a quick check, just to
make sure, won't you?"

"Of course."

While the other guards pointed their guns at him, Paul had him stand up
and submit to a pat down.  It was far from the efficient, all-inclusive
search that Brett would have performed had their positions been
reversed - Paul was squeamish about patting down the crotch area and
beneath the arms - but Brett decided to keep his comments to himself.
At least the man had been on the ball enough to make the effort.

"Walk through the doors," Paul directed when he was done, stepping back
and waving with his pistol.  He was wiping his hands on his clothing as
he did so.

"Sorry about the dirt and grime," Brett said, mounting the steps.
"Bathing facilities are a little scarce these days you know."

"Understandable," he said, taking up position behind him.  "You can put
your hands down if you'd like."

He was directed to a closed door off one of the hallways that was
marked: CONFERENCE A.  He pushed it open and found himself in a
spacious room that was equipped with several oak tables with chairs
around them.  Oil lamps set at both ends of one of the tables provided
illumination.  Standing next to the table was a tall blonde woman in
her thirties.  Though she was wearing blue jeans and an old sweater
there was no mistaking the look of aristocracy in her pretty face.  She
looked like a woman who had grown up with money and had lived with it
all of her life.  Brett had no trouble at all picturing her in one of
the expensive houses of Garden Hill.  She looked at Brett with unmasked
distaste in her eyes and stepped backwards to keep from being close to
him.  Her nose wrinkled up as she caught a whiff of the odor he was
exuding.

"Is THIS our intruder?" she asked Paul in a high, nasal voice.

"This is him," Paul confirmed.  "Meet Mr. Brett Adams.  He alleges to
be a former San Joaquin County Sheriff and a former army warrant
officer.  He claims to have walked through our bridge defenses and into
our town under the cover of darkness."

"But you said that was impossible," she said.

"No," he corrected, "I never said any such thing.  I told you that it
would be very difficult.  Dale is the one who has been saying it's
impossible."

She let that go.  "So why did you bring him in here?  Why don't you
take him right back out to the edge of town and put him back where he
belongs?"

"We may do just that," Paul said.  "But first, I think we should talk
to him.  He went to a lot of trouble to do what he did and then he
simply gave himself up.  I suspect that he has a proposal of sorts to
make for us.  Is that right Mr. Adams?"

"That is exactly right," Brett agreed.

"A proposal?" the woman asked.  "What could he possibly have that we
need?"

"What indeed?" Paul said.  He waved Brett to a chair.  "Why don't you
have a seat Mr. Adams and tell us what brings you here."

"Don't let him sit on our furniture," she said, wrinkling her nose.
"He's disgusting."

Paul looked at her pointedly.  "Jessica," he said, "Mr. Adams is a
guest here at the moment.  I will not ask a guest to remain standing no
matter what he looks or smells like.  Besides, it's a lot harder for
him to attack anybody if he's seated."  He waved to the chair again.
"Go ahead."

Jessica fumed and seemed about to say something else before deciding it
wasn't an issue worth pushing.  She pulled her own chair out and sat
down as far away from him as she could get.  Just from the brief
exchange that he'd witnessed, Brett could tell that Paul was a little
more conscientious about contradicting her than he was about
contradicting Dale.  Interesting.

He pulled out a chair and made himself comfortable.  Paul remained
standing, his gun held in his hand, barrel pointing at the floor.
Before any conversation could begin, Dale entered the room.  He shot a
foul look at Brett and then walked over to the table, grabbing a seat
next to Jessica.

"The guards are still in position on the bridge," Dale announced.
"They report seeing no unusual activities tonight.  They say that there
is no way that anyone could have come up the ladder behind them without
them noticing it."

"The ladder?" Jessica asked.

"When you talk to them again," Brett said, "tell them that I came up
just as the female guard was finishing up the blowjob on the male
guard, but before they both ducked down and started making the Suburban
rock."

A collective gasp came from the three members of the group.

"That is disgusting that you would imply something like that," Jessica
said.  "Paul, take this man out of town immediately!"

"Goddamn right," Dale agreed righteously.

But Paul only looked embarrassed.  "Were they really doing that?" he
asked Brett.

"He's making this up as he goes along," Dale yelled.  "Jesus Christ
Paul, can't you see that?  Steve and Laura wouldn't do anything like
that.  Especially not on guard duty!"

"If he's making it up," Paul asked his companions, "then how did he
know that there was a male and female on tonight?  How did he know that
we use a Suburban?"

Neither one of them had an answer for that.

"They were really doing that," Brett said.  "But don't be too hard on
them.  They wouldn't have seen me anyway.  They were in a lighted
position and I was in complete darkness.  The rain and the canyon noise
kept any noise I made from reaching them.  While I wouldn't recommend
that particular activity on watch, it wasn't because of it that I got
in."

"Christ," Paul muttered, pacing back and forth for a moment.

"Paul," Jessica said, "don't go yelling at Steve and Laura just because
of something this... this man says.  I mean, sure, it might be
possible.  But I think that you should talk to them first and find
out..."

"Oh, I'm gonna talk to them all right," Paul said.  He looked over at
the doorway.  "Mitsy!"

A moment later it opened and she stuck her head inside.  "Yes?"

"Find me two more guards and have them take over at the bridge for
Steve and Laura right away.  Once they're relieved, I want those two to
report immediately to me."

Mitsy took a moment to digest all of that.  She nodded and said: "Right
away Paul.  I'll have Barbara and Maggie go out there."

"Good enough," Paul said.  "Please close the door as you go."

No sooner had it swung shut then Jessica asked, "Do you really think it
was necessary to do that, Paul?  I don't think we should make too big
of a deal about this.  Rumors have a way of getting out of control.
I'd really hate it if Cindy heard that Steve was..."

"The guards are my responsibility Jess," Paul said wearily.  "I'll
handle the situation as I see fit.  And as for containing the rumor,
you of all people should know it's already too late for that."

Jessica blanched a little, obviously unaccustomed to being talked to
like that.  "I don't really think that..."

"I will handle the guard situation," Paul said firmly, in a voice that
there was no compromising with.  "It is MY responsibility.  Now how
about we move on to the subject of Mr. Adams here, shall we?"

"Fine," she pouted.

Paul looked over at Brett.  "Why don't we get right to the point and
save everyone a lot of time?  What exactly is it that you want?"

"Safety," Brett said immediately.  "Since the comet came down I have
almost died more times than I care to count.  I want to be safe and
live long enough for the sun to come back out.  This town represents
safety of sorts.  You are organized and functioning.  I want to be a
part of this."

"You want to join this town?" Paul clarified.

"That is correct."

"Impossible," Jessica articulated.  "We're not a charitable
organization here.  We don't even know if we have enough food to feed
ourselves for more than a few months.  Taking on another mouth,
especially a sneaking thief, is out of the question."

"Oh, it wouldn't just be one mouth," Brett said, ignoring the sneaking
thief remark.  "It would be three.  After the comet hit I picked up a
couple of teenage kids that had been camping with their parents.  Their
parents were killed and now I'm looking after them."

"Kids?" Paul asked.  "Where are they?"

"That doesn't matter!" Jessica yelled.  Next to her, Dale nodded his
head in agreement.  "We can't take any more people in here!  Our food
supply is critical enough as it is."

"Why don't we hear the man out before we make any decisions?" Paul
asked her.

"There's nothing to hear," she said.  "He's a beggar.  We've already
made the decision that we can't feed beggars.  Not if we want to live."

"I'm not a beggar," Brett interjected at this point.  "I have something
quite valuable to offer you in exchange for taking me and my companions
in.  Something that you need here almost as much as food."

"Oh?" she asked, looking at him skeptically.  "And what might that be?"

"My experience," he said simply.

"Your experience?"

"Exactly," he told them, leaning forward a little.  "I have six years
of active experience as a military man.  I was the pilot of a combat
helicopter as part of the 3rd Armored Cavalry.  I flew medivac during
the invasion of Panama.  I flew combat missions during Desert Storm.  I
know all about natural and man-made defenses because it was my job to
penetrate and destroy them.  I was also a cop for eight years in one of
the shittiest cities in California.  I know about security.  I can help
you defend this little town from invasion by the hordes of starving and
desperate people that are outside, because, believe me, they will be
here and they will find a way to get in if what I've seen so far is any
indication of how you're protecting yourselves.  Quite frankly, I'm
amazed that you've made it this long without being hit."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Jessica said icily.  "Our security is quite
adequate."

"No," Paul said, taking a step closer to the table.  "It is NOT."

"Paul?" Jessica said, glaring at him.  "What are you saying?  You are
the one that set up our defenses!"

"And that is why I'm saying it," he said.  "I'm a fireman Jessica.  A
fireman.  My job was to sit in a fire station and wait for someone to
get sick or burn their house down.  I've never been in the service.  I
did the best I could because no one else had any ideas, but, as Mr.
Adams has shown us, my measures are simply not enough."

"We can't feed him!" Jessica insisted.  "Especially not with two kids
tagging along with him."

"If we don't take him up on his offer," Paul told her, "there may not
be anyone here TO feed.  He penetrated our most secure line of defense
Jess.  That bridge was the one thing I didn't worry about and he walked
right across it and sat on the wall less than a half mile from here.
Can you imagine the kind of mistakes I've made on the north side of
town or the east?"

"How do we know he's not scamming us?" Dale put in.  "So he SAYS that
he was in the army and that he was a cop.  How do we know he's not just
making that up?"

"I agree completely," Jessica said, smiling at the linebacker next to
her.

Paul looked over at Brett, giving him a look that told him the ball was
in his court.  Brett handled that ball nicely.

"I have no way of proving who I am," he said.  "All of my
identification is buried under a couple of tons of mud up by Castle
Point.  All you have is my word at this particular point in time.
However, as a gesture of good faith, I'll give you some free advice
about how to secure your bridge route and keep from being invaded from
that direction."

"I don't think we need to listen to any advice from this man," said
Dale.

"I do," Paul disagreed.  "Let's hear it."

Brett looked at Jessica, waiting for her to parrot the opinion of Dale,
as he had done with all of her opinions.  She did no such thing, she
only looked at him expectantly, an arrogant expression upon her face.

"You need to occupy the hill on the other side of the bridge," Brett
said.  "The one that I observed your current guard position from."

"Oh that's just brilliant," Dale said, smirking.  "You want us to put
our people outside of our protected area and let them get cut off?"  He
turned to the two other members of the committee.  "This guy is
scamming us."

"He does have somewhat of a point," Paul said to Brett.  "What happens
if that position is attacked?  How would we get them back across the
bridge?"

"You don't seem to understand," Brett said.  "I'm not suggesting that
you place people outside of your area, I'm suggesting that you extend
your area to include that hill.  From up there you have a panoramic
view of every conceivable approach to the bridge.  The only blind spot
would be if someone came around from the other side of the smaller hill
across the road like I did.  And even then they would have to cross
about a hundred yards of open ground along the canyon ledge before they
could access it.  You could close that loophole simply by stringing
some barbed wire or something like that on that approach.  Or you could
maintain another watch from your original post."

"I'm sorry," Paul said.  "I really don't see the advantage to what
you're talking about."

"The advantage," Brett explained, "is that no one could approach
anywhere near the bridge without being seen.  As it stands now, they're
able to walk right up to it before you see them, right?"

"Well, right."

"And as I've proved, they can use the very hill that I'm talking about
to conduct a thorough reconnaissance of your defenses.  If you position
your guards where I'm suggesting, no one will be able to get within a
quarter mile or so without being seen.  That overlook is perfect and it
would be almost impossible for a force to dislodge your guards from
there without heavy weapons, mortars, or air power - things which are
in kind of short supply these days.  The only way up that hill is from
the road, which is a very steep climb, or from the south, the way we
came up, which is an even steeper one.  If you hold that hill, you hold
everything within view of it because your guards can just pick off
anyone that tries to climb up or get to the bridge.  Two guards with a
sufficient supply of ammunition could fight off fifty people easily."

Jessica and Dale were both doing their damnedest to keep looking
skeptical about him, but he could see that they were carefully
considering what he was saying.  "Does that make sense to you Paul?"
Jessica asked hesitantly.

"Yes," he said.  "It does make sense.  I'd have to look the place over
to be sure, but I don't see any flaw in what he's saying."  He looked
over at Brett.  "What about at night?  That was the problem we had with
the original guard position.  You just can't see the bridge at night.
That's why I came up with the idea of the video cameras."

"And that was a damn good idea," Brett said.  "I have to give credit
where it is due.  I'm not sure that I would have even thought about
something like that."

"Thanks," Paul said, beaming a little.  "I was rather proud of that."

"And you should be.  But your problem is that, although it's a great
idea, you did not execute it as well as you could have.  You left a
hole that I was able to find and exploit.  And the reason I was able to
find that hole is because I was able to observe you at will before I
made any sort of move."

"So what is your suggestion?"

"I'd have to see the capabilities of your camera system before I came
up with a firm plan," Brett said after a moment's thought.  "But the
one thing that is absolutely necessary is that you move the two SUVs on
this side of the bridge backwards so that they are between the ladder
from the catwalk and the bridge entrance.  You can't let people come up
behind your position like I did."

"We don't have any more coaxial cable connectors," Paul said.  "We made
the chain as long as we could."

"Then either splice on some more or move the camera positions back.
It's better to do that than to leave yourself exposed from the rear.
Also, those ladders should be removed on both ends to keep people from
moving up and down on them.  Hell, if you can cut holes in the catwalk
itself or even drop the whole damn thing into the canyon, that would be
even better.  The important thing is that somehow, some way, you deny
the use of that catwalk to an enemy.  Without that catwalk, I wouldn't
have been able to get in here from that direction.  With that catwalk,
I could have led as many people as I wanted to across to this side and
you wouldn't have known about it, even if your guards HAD been doing
their jobs at the time."

They discussed other aspects of the bridge defense for more than twenty
minutes, Paul and Brett holding up most of the conversation but Jessica
and Dale gradually starting to throw in a few contributions and ask a
few questions as well.  Brett began to sense a thawing of the
malevolent feelings that Jessica had for him as the talk went on, a
very small thawing but a thawing none-the-less.  The look of disgust in
her face whenever she looked at him was replaced by a look of something
that was almost like interest.  He sensed no such warming from Dale,
who seemed to perceive him as some sort of threat, but he had also
figured out that Dale's position among the town leadership was more
symbolic than anything else.

Finally the discussion wound down and the time came to take a vote on
the matter of Brett's leaving or staying.  The vote did not go well.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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