Standing at the Edge Read online

  “Heaven welcomes you both! Please, dismount and refresh yourselves. You and your horses must be hot and weary from your journeys.”

  Others working the field crowded around them and helped them dismount. Dusty clouds billowed in the breeze. The horses were led to a water trough while Jane and Bob sat in hewn chairs under the canopy of a juniper tree.

  James pulled up another chair and joined them, wiping his face on the long sleeve of his smock. “I am delighted see you both.” He gestured to their sidearms and smiled. “You won’t be needing those here.”

  “Habit,” Jane said. By tacit agreement, Bob let her do the talking as James’ followers again surrounded them, pressing close to listen. “A lifetime wandering the open country leaves you wary.”

  “Ah, yes, the flaws and perils of this imperfect world, this Place of Trial. All we can do is forge the best record of life that we can, in hopes of enjoying God’s mercy in the next.”

  Jane was sorely tempted to follow that into a discussion of his beliefs, but the image of Bear and his people harassing the Chinese to slow them down kept her focused on her objective. Instead, she swallowed. “I would love to spend weeks discussing this with you.”

  “Excellent!”

  “But I can’t. We’ve ridden hard to bring you a warning that a Chinese task force is coming up that highway—” She pointed southwest. “—and they’re heading right for you. They’re repairing bridges as they travel and could be here within a few days, a week at the most. And they’re heavily armed.”

  James didn’t react for a few seconds and she could see in his face that he was processing this information. Then he jumped up and raised his arms to the sky. “Thank you, Buddha, Zeus, Krishna, Jesus, Yahweh, Allah, and all of your other manifestations, O mighty God! Thank you for delivering these sinners unto us!”

  When Jane had mentioned the Chinese, as a reflex all of his followers had looked at James and judged his reaction. Now, with him dancing in place and waving his arms, they did the same.

  “What are you doing?” Jane had to yell to be heard. “Don’t you get it? The Chinese are coming to loot the depot and they won’t hesitate to kill anybody who gets in their way!”

  James waved his arms and quieted the crowd. Sweat poured down his face from his exertions, but his eyes reflected an absolute joy Jane thought might have been madness.

  “No, my child, you’ve got it backwards. The Chinese think they’re coming for the cruel weapons of war stored over yonder, but it’s not so! God leads them here! We will meet them with love instead of hate, a friendly hand instead of a hand dealing death. You’ll see, once they discover God’s love, they will settle among us in peace.”

  Bob crossed his arms and scowled.

  Jane gaped. Her mouth hung open without her realizing it did so. “James, none of that is going to happen. If you’re lucky, they’ll kill you quickly. If you’re not lucky, they’ll torture you first and rape the women.”

  “The Great Deceiver will tell them to do so, yes, but God will overcome him yet again and turn their stone hearts to love.”

  “Don’t you get it? The Chinese outlawed all religions in the areas they control. They’re atheists!”

  “All the better!” If anything, his smile broadened.

  “Do you have a death wish?” Bob asked, unable to keep silent any longer.

  “No, my brother, I have a life wish!”

  “So you won’t do anything to help secure the weapons?”

  James pulled his head back and cocked it to one side. “Secure the weapons? You mean the instruments of death kept on the base?” He pointed down the road.

  “That’s what the Chinese are coming for!” Jane wanted to shake him.

  “But that’s outside of our control. Believe me, I have held many discussions with Colonel Lamar to let us render them harmless, but she refuses. For His own reasons, God has not yet softened her heart.”

  “Colonel Lamar? Who is she?”

  “Don’t you know? She’s the base commander.”

  #

  Chapter 11

  Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear.

  Mark Twain

  Herlong, CA

  1544 hours, April 11

  Prophet James tried to keep their horses, but Jane made it clear that was a non-starter. Neither she nor Bob had to draw their sidearms, but they did have to insist on the return of their rifles and the ammo. James’ acolytes had removed both from the horses while they’d talked. In the end they left with everything they’d come with, plus full canteens.

  “I thought you’d been here before,” Bob said once they’d ridden out of hearing range.

  “I have, but it was a long time ago and I came in from the northeast, over land. I met a security patrol out in the desert and we traded a few things, but they warned against trying to get closer. They said the commander at the time, General Wistick, I think, was a real hard-ass and would probably lock me up for trespassing. This was forty-plus years after The Collapse. So I never got to look inside the base, but I still remember the two guys I met.”

  On their left, they passed a one-time military lodging hotel with a caved-in roof. Rusted-out cars still sat in the parking lot. Beyond that, several concrete barriers lined the shoulder. A guardhouse sat in the middle of the road and showed signs of recent repair. On their right, an M1A1 Abrams rested on a concrete pedestal. Streaks of rust stained its paint, which had faded from light sand to off-white.

  As their horses trotted closer, a man stepped out from the guardhouse and pointed an M-16 at them. “Stop and state your business.” His obvious youth surprised her. He was no older than his early twenties.

  After stopping, Jane held up her hands. “We need to see Colonel Lamar. It’s urgent.”

  “Oh, yeah? You show up out of nowhere and demand to see the colonel, so I guess you’re expectin’ me to show you the way or something? But that ain’t how this is gonna work. First get off those horses, real careful now, and drop any guns you’re wearing.”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “I understand you better shut up and do as I say.”

  Once they’d dismounted and disarmed, the youth nodded in satisfaction. “What’re your names?”

  “I’m Junker Jane and this is Jingle Bob.”

  “Junker Jane? Seems I’ve heard of you. Why do you want to see the colonel?”

  Being tired and drenched in sweat, Jane had had enough. She pointed back the way they’d come and yelled. “Do I look like I’ve got the time to fuck around? Well, do I? You’ve got the hammer of Hell comin’ your way and I’m trying to warn your commanding officer, but I can’t do it with all the fucking idiots who keep slowing me down!” She leaned forward, eyes wide, almost daring the young man to pull the trigger.

  It had the desired effect. He glared at her. “Leave your horses here.”

  “They need shade. This sun’s a killer.”

  “All right, bring ’em along, then. But leave the guns here.”

  “Like hell.”

  They remounted, rearmed, and followed the guard, who went on foot. They turned left at a stone sign with Sierra Army Depot chiseled into its face. Colonel Lamar’s headquarters was in the first building they came to on the right. The guard let them into a small waiting room and told them to give up their guns again, and this time they didn’t argue.

  After removing the weapons, the guard knocked on a wooden door. A muffled voice responded and he stuck in his head in. A moment later he opened it wider.

  “The colonel wants to hear you out.”

  Jane wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but Colonel Lamar wasn’t it. She stood about five feet tall and weighed no more than one hundred pounds. Close-cropped white hair shone against her dark skin and gave her a soldierly appearance that her wrinkled BDUs only magnified. Jane put her age somewhere past seventy, but her erect bearing showed no sign of her years.

  Her delight at having visitors was obvious.
“Please sit. I’m Colonel Aretha Lamar, and did I understand correctly that you’re the famous Junker Jane?”

  “I don’t know about famous, but yes, ma’am, I’m Jane, and this is Jingle Bob. I’m sorry to barge in like this, but we had to see you right away.”

  “Think nothing of it!” The colonel waved her hand and sat. “Honey, you’re the first outsider we’ve seen in more than a year. Can I get you some water, something to eat?”

  “Water would be great.”

  The colonel pointed at the guard and he left. “Private Lamar tells me you have something important to tell me?”

  “Private Lamar?”

  The colonel smiled. “My grandson, Marcus.”

  “I’m sorry, I was rude to him… but Colonel, you have to listen to me. The Chinese are coming and they could be here soon. They’re down the highway, maybe thirty miles from here, a lot of men and armored vehicles. There’s what looks like artillery, too.”

  “Chinese? So if they’re only thirty miles from here, and you’re on horseback riding to warn me, that means they could be here any time now. Is that what you’re saying, we might be shooting at the Chinese in a few minutes?” The prospect almost seemed to excite her.

  Jane rubbed her eyes. Dust and sun glare had left them watering and tired. “We have a little more time than that. They’re stuck with using the main highways because of their large vehicles… my friends to the west said they were in Reno Junction, repairing a downed bridge, and had at least four more bridges to fix before they could get here. The road is also damaged, so we still have time to prepare a defense.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we. You, me, my friends in the Enclave, some others around Mount Shasta… if we don’t stop them, nobody will. We’re guessing they’re coming for the tanks and whatever else you’ve got in store here. If they get those, nobody’s safe.”

  Colonel Lamar rose from behind her desk. Frowning, she paced by the window. “How strong are they?”

  “I don’t know. Bear, that’s my friend from the Enclave, Bear said they had some armored vehicles, and he saw hundreds of men.”

  “The Chinese have stayed put in their portion of California for over forty years, so why are they coming here now?”

  “Bob has a theory about that.”

  They both turned to him. Just then Colonel Lamar’s grandson came back with a pitcher of water and two plastic glasses. To Jane’s surprise, they were clean. Bob downed his entire glass before answering.

  “I scrape down south, sometimes as far as the Phoenix area, but usually north of there. Last year I ran into some Indians I know, Apaches, who told me about two big battles fought last summer, one northeast of Phoenix and the other near Prescott.”

  “Prescott? Where’s that?”

  “It’s in some mountains about a hundred miles north-northwest of Phoenix. There’s a big pine forest near there, too. There’s been a warlord in Prescott for years who calls himself General Patton—”

  “Like George Patton?”

  “Yes. He rules over something called the Republic of Arizona and claims it’s the rightful… ummm… what’s the word?—”

  “Successor?” Jane said.

  “Yeah, that’s it. He claims it’s the rightful successor to the United States, but by all accounts he’s a real bastard. Anyway, the story goes that the Chinese sent this army of tanks to Prescott to capture the place and extend their reach into old Arizona. Except out of nowhere, Americans showed up with helicopters and artillery and tanks of their own. And when I say Americans, my Apache friend emphasized that he meant the American Army, the real one. Like from before The Collapse.

  “The Chinese weren’t expecting them and got their asses kicked. Lost a lot of tanks, to hear it told. Now, I’ve heard a lot of wild stories over the years, most of which turned out to not be true. But I’ve never gotten bad information from an Indian, in particular an Apache. Everything they’ve ever told me checked out, so I decided to see for myself, and damned if they weren’t right, at least about the fight outside Phoenix. I found all kinds of bomb holes, spent shell casings, bones, you name it. Along what used to be Interstate Seventeen, near a little place called New River, I saw hundreds of wrecked and burned-up cars, trucks, and you name it scattered all over the desert.

  “But what’s really interesting is that I couldn’t get too close, because there were troops there. Young troops, in new-looking uniforms. As a scraper, it’s my business to know what kind of uniforms they were, and I can tell you one hundred percent they wore MCCUUs, Marine Corps Combat Utility Uniforms. I’m dead-shit certain about that. Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve heard the word before… Bob? Bob.”

  “I found a crate filled with MCCUUs once and so I recognized them right off. After that I decided to see if the rest of what the Apache said checked out, so I headed north for Prescott.”

  At this point even Jane stared at him, enrapt. She hadn’t heard that part of the story. “Was that true, too?”

  “I never got close enough to find out. There were patrols everywhere near the city, so I skirted it to the west and found what they call Skull Valley, this long stretch leading into Prescott from the northwest. That’s where I saw the tanks. Dozens of them; I counted more than forty. Chinese tanks. Men were all over the valley, salvaging what they could, men wearing American Army ACUs, Army Combat Uniforms…”

  “Are you sure they were ACUs and not BDUs?”

  “Yeah, so you see what that means?”

  “ACUs were in use before The Collapse, but surplus stockpiles are mostly BDUs. ACUs in everyday use would all have either rotted by now or been worn out. It’s not likely a whole unit would still be wearing them. And Marine uniforms are even less likely.”

  “Exactly. Anyway, I couldn’t stay long or get too close, but I did see helicopters flying into the city and all kinds of vehicles, and they all had a big white star on them. Now, I’ve seen old U.S. Army equipment before and I never saw white stars on them, so I don’t know why these had them, but to my mind there’s no doubt this was the real American Army. I wish you could have seen them; these guys were pros.”

  He refilled his water glass and drank it more slowly than the first. “So that’s why I think the Chinese are coming, to replace their losses from last year’s battle.”

  Both scrapers turned to Colonel Lamar, who stood as still as an ambush predator. She said nothing for more than a minute.

  “I’m not sure what to say,” she said, lightly touching her throat. The excitement in her face was gone. “If they’re coming in force, we can’t stop them. And it’s not just our tanks and APCs I’m worried about them getting their hands on. The chemical and biological weapons storage is here, too, and enough ammunition to refight World War Two. We’ve got more than five thousand shoulder-fired recoilless rifles… the list is endless. But if they’re bringing AFVs and have air support, there’s almost nothing we can do to stop them.”

  The two scrapers exchanged a quick glance.

  “I’m sorry, Colonel, but I don’t understand,” Jane said. “There must be hundreds of tanks here, and that seems like more than enough to fight off an army.”

  “What exactly do you think I command here? It’s true that once upon a time the base had thousands of ranks garrisoned here, but that all ended with The Collapse. When supplies stopped coming, most of the people stationed here left. Some stayed with their families, but over the years a lot of them went looking for a better life than just existing in this barren hell-hole.”

  “How many men in your command?” Bob blurted.

  “Ninety-seven men and women. And that’s if you count teenagers as adults. There are also twenty-one younger children. Over the years, we’ve tried to maintain three working M1A1s for just such a contingency as this, but the good fuel ran out ten years ago. I’m surprised it lasted that long, to be honest. Whatever fuel stabilizers the military developed worked well, otherwise the pre-Collapse fuel wouldn’t have lasted a year. We’ve s
till got some left but it’s so stale the vehicles won’t burn it any more. We do have some Javelins in the ammunition bunkers, but nobody alive has fired them, so we’ll have to learn on the fly, and the Carl Gustavs I mentioned.”

  “Javelins and Carl whats?” Jane said.

  “Gustavs, the recoilless rifles. Officially the M3. The Swedes developed it right after World War Two and it stayed in use right up until the end. It had a lot of nicknames.”

  “And Javelins?”

  “They’re anti-tank rockets.”

  “Like RPGs?”

  “Much bigger. They’re supposed to do a lot more damage, but they usually need two people to operate. I don’t know if you’ve seen pictures of the old bazooka, but something like that, only larger. I’ll have my executive officer bring some out… but those bunkers are more than a mile from here and Javelins are heavy. That’s going to take a while.

  “We might be better off sticking with the Gustavs. They aren’t as big but still pack a wallop, and we can get some here in short order. Other than that, all we’ve got is small arms and a few machine guns. And none of my people have had any real training.”

  “What do you mean, no real training? Aren’t they in the Army?”

  “Technically, none of us are. We’re all children and grandchildren of those people who either stayed here or came soon after. We organized as a military unit on our own because it offered the best chance for protection, but not everybody joined. Did you meet our resident eccentric on the way in?”

  “You mean Prophet James? Yes, we’ve had the pleasure.”

  “Poor deluded James… he’s my oldest son, you see, Marcus’ father, and while I’m all right there with him, having faith in God, James takes it to extremes. If he doesn’t want to work that day, he says God doesn’t want him to and then sleeps all day and lets his followers do the work.

  “My father was a major in the Army and we were on vacation, camping at Honey Lake, when The Collapse came. Within days, the roads were effectively closed by gangs of thieves who killed without mercy and stole whatever they could find. Dad didn’t want to risk going back to San Francisco, so we headed to the nearest Army outpost… here. We watched things go to hell in the outside world on television and decided to make this a permanent billet.