Base 19

By Beth Reason

In the wake of the Pandora pandemic, Newton began. With Mother at the helm, it grew and blossomed. Her policy of open doors and shared information benefited not only those in town, but people across the continent. As her fame grew, she attracted the attention of what remained of the US army. They moved in next door, built a base, and for years, seemed content to simply watch her.

However, Mother would not follow the army's "supply and comply" policy. They were soldiers trying to give her orders, not government officials, and the more the soldiers pressed their case, the more firm Mother's resolve became. She did not vote them into office, she did not elect any of them to be her leader. The people she voted for were dead and buried, and until she cast a vote for someone new, there was no government. She refused to cede Newton to their control, and encouraged other towns and settlements across the former nation to do the same.

To the army, Mother is a traitor. The time has come that her people feared. With one defiant act, Mother tips the scale too far and the world at large knows things are coming to a head. The army is no longer content to wait and watch. And as she prepares her citizens for battle, Mother knows that far more than just one town is on the line.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beth Reason
• Release date: Jul 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310279249

Beth Reason

I love to try new ways to create things. However, writing is the only thing I always come back to. Life interrupted my path several times, until finally my family said to bite the bullet and give this scary "putting myself out there" thing a try.

Book preview

Base

19

Copyright 2014 Beth Reason

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be copied or resold in whole or in part, either for commercial or non-commercial use. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author!

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

About the Author

Other Great Books by Beth Reason

Chapter 1

Sam could not remember ever seeing a scene quite as intriguing as the one he watched through the lens of his telescope.

It was her, of course. Mother. The Great Mother, according to some people. Sam had to admit that there was an unfathomable draw to her and that the Great part was probably not that far off base. He knew he was captivated by her himself, if he was being completely honest. Wasn't he once again at the top of the watchtower spying when he should be in the fields giving directions? If he really stopped to think about what that meant, he might have been scared or shaken. Fortunately for his sanity, he didn't bother to question any of it. He wanted to be in the tower, so he was. He wanted to watch her again, so he did.

Besides, if he had been in the field where he belonged, he never would have discovered that she was a murderer.

He knew it for a fact now. He watched her unleash a rage that shook apart all he thought he knew about the woman. Nowhere in the seemingly endless dossier on Mother was there any mention of violence. It was assumed, of course, that she could be military-minded. No one had people that devoted to them without some show of force. But no outsider had ever seen it, and none of his spies spoke of anything other than her stern leadership. It was one of the most intriguing aspects of her. Her people were completely devoted to her, and no one could figure out why. If they could catch her in an illegal act...

And hadn't he done just that? Major Samuel Jenns, first official witness to the crime that would finally stop her. Major Samuel Jenns, who would no doubt get a promotion for his information and her arrest. Soon to be Lieutenant Colonel, maybe even Colonel Samuel Jenns. He watched through the lens as she holstered her gun and walked toward the crumpled man. Yes, Colonel. He thought hat had a real nice ring to it.

It was Mother's next move that gave Sam pause. He thought she fired a clean shot, and maybe she did, but the man wasn't dead. Damn. There went his promotion. Killing a citizen would have been enough cause for Sam to apprehend her. Simply dishing out a punishment, though, was all part of being in charge in the modern world. Sam watched as Mother walked to the man and kicked him, hard. Perhaps he could arrest her under the archaic laws of fairness to prisoners? Perhaps there was still hope for his shiny new name badge.

Sam frowned and moved the lens to see who else was part of the crime scene. Her guard dog, the man they called Wolf, was there, of course, never more than a step behind her. Sam hated him, but mostly because he was so damned good. The nerd they called Striker was there, too, as expected, nosing into the thick of things. Sam always got the feeling Striker was pitied more than accepted. Still, he knew the importance of the kid to the town of Newton. Though they tried, the army had no success in recruiting him. Yet.

There were a few odds and ends folks milling about, regular citizens that weren't key players. Sam frowned, looking for the one they called Eve. She wasn't there. Mother's protege was missing. Wolf started running and Sam whipped the scope around to follow. Mother was on top of the man on the ground, beating the shit out of him. He was obviously still alive, though Sam could see the dark patch of blood under the victim.

Victim? Was he really a victim?

Hell, Sam didn't know. Justice was all over the map in the after times. Before, there would have been no question. If there was a crime, people were arrested and tried in a court of law. Period. But what constituted a crime in modern times was largely left to personal interpretation. And just as the line for what constituted a crime had been blurred, so had the clear path to justice for those crimes. Even the army only a very loose guideline for punishments. Usually it was simply up to the leader of a base or community to decide. Killing the man would have been the one thing everyone could agree was only acceptable in very certain circumstances. Simply losing her cool and beating someone up would not be enough. She could easily argue in her favor for that act, and even the army would be forced to concede.

However, Sam had never seen Mother do that, never seen her so completely lose control, and what started as any other day was proving riveting. Completely curious, he watched intently. She was beyond pissed. Even through the telescopic lens he could see the anger radiate off her. Wolf was pulling her away from the man on the ground. Striker was flailing his arms. A group grabbed the bloody man and hauled him up, pulling him off towards what Sam assumed was the holding cell he knew they had in the big barn.

And Mother was still pissed.

God, he wished he had mics down there. The only time Sam had tried to bug Newton, he got caught, no doubt thanks to Striker. Sam got nothing on the recording but morning instructions for coffee and the community breakfast hubbub before a fizzing sizzle noise and then silence. The nerd was damn good, that was for sure. If he was honest, Sam would have admitted he kind of got a kick out of that particular cat and mouse game with Mother. He'd get the best of her one of these days. He had his best men on it.

Wolf was holding her. She wasn't struggling to break free, but she wasn't listening to whatever Wolf was saying, either. She turned her gaze to the tower. Long ago she made it clear she knew she was being watched. If you want to get your jollies by watching us dig in the dirt and hang out our panties on the laundry line, don't let me stop you, Captain. She had said it with that smirk that Sam grudgingly looked forward to seeing.

That smirk was not there, though, not on this day. Sam would have sworn that Mother was looking him right in the eyes, even though that was impossible. He was over a mile away. At best she could see the very hint of the tower above the trees. He would still swear it, though. She was looking right at him, challenging him. She just tried to kill a man, and yet she was the one issuing the challenge. It intrigued him further and he wanted to know the whole story.

Mother turned and said something to Wolf. He let her go and she walked into the big house. No one in the yard moved, and they all stared at the door. Sam refocused the telescopic lens to get a clearer view. Everyone just waited. No one was speaking, they all just stood there, waiting. As the seconds ticked into minutes, Sam pulled out an apple and began to eat, too curious to leave the lens. By the time he was done his apple, he had almost resigned himself to giving up spying on Newton for the day when he noticed the people in the yard step back. Her jeep pulled up to the front of the porch and Wolf motioned to someone.

The door of the big house opened, and Sam frowned. Mother was carrying someone wrapped in a sheet, clearly dead. He saw no face, but it was obviously someone important. Eve? No, not Mother's pet. He saw her then, following Mother like always, openly crying. Wolf stepped up, but Mother ignored him, placing the body in the jeep herself. She addressed the people in the yard while Wolf got back in the driver's seat.

And then it happened.

Sam watched her place the wrapped body in the back of the jeep and then she bent and kissed the head. One simple action, and suddenly he was choked up. He felt the tears and blinked them away. How long had he watched her town? Two years. And nothing he had ever seen compared. He had seen her be tough, he had seen her be kind. He'd seen the devotion her people had for her and hadn't yet seen anything to explain it. One kiss. One open display that showed her people how much she was hurting. And damn it if it didn't cut right through Sam as well.

How many dead bodies had he seen? Thousands, tens of thousands, and every one of them less human than the last until they piled up in the mind and blurred into one, and any grieving done faded into numb acceptance. How long had it been since he saw true pain at a loss? Or felt it himself?

Who was it? Who was it that was that special to Mother? Get up! he shouted out loud, the words echoing around the empty tower. He knew why everyone in the yard was still. They were screaming in their heads, too.

But, the body didn't listen. It just lay there, dead.

Mother wiped her eyes and got in the jeep, saying nothing else to anyone. Sam moved the lens, but couldn't follow the progression of the vehicle. There were trees in the way, but he knew where they'd go. The burn pile. He could just make it out on the hill and focused in. The old burn pit, once used to rid the world of the contaminated history, was now used for their funerals. Per treaty, the army had permission to use the location as well. It was well chosen, the smoke and particles drifting over the edge of the hill towards the cliff and safely downwind from both the town and Base 19, and was well away from possible contamination of the water supply. Mother had agreed to the treaty request in her usual way, surprising them all with her attitude. What? We don't want people going off half-cocked setting fire to shells everywhere, do we? That's what Mother always called the dead. Shells. It was one of her funny little quirks.

Only, not this time. She clearly did not have a shell in her jeep.

Sam watched for their arrival at the burn pit. It was a couple of miles from the big house, so he knew it would take them a few minutes to get there. After half an hour, though, it was clear that they were not heading where they should. Sam slapped his knee. That did it! That gave him the excuse he was looking for to go investigate the situation for himself. He and Mother had a treaty, a rock solid pact on how to handle the remains of the dead. He wasn't being nosy, exactly. It was a matter of security, a public health issue, when he got right down to it. Triumphant with his justifications, Sam called for the guard to come back and resume his post in the watchtower.

Thanks, he said to the young private.

Anytime, sir, the private said. See anything interesting, sir?

Sam shook his head. Damn townies are acting up again, he muttered, half smiling as he began to climb down the ladder.

Give 'em hell, sir! the kid shouted after him.

On the ground, Sam got into his jeep and barked the order to be brought to base to check in. The driver gave a nod, and headed down the dirt road. Keep the engine running, Sam ordered at the door of their headquarters. Largely still a tent city, Base 19 was slowly coming along. In the three years since the decision had been made to build there, six permanent buildings had been constructed between the existing old civilian neighborhoods. Housing for the young recruits was almost finished, and just last year their impressive headquarters had been painted and polished. Sam walked quickly through the halls. As commander, he took great pride in his blooming community.

Sam went into his office and changed into dress uniform. Only once had he made the mistake of going to Newton in anything less, and she never let him forget it since. It was why Mother still called him Captain. It was, Sam knew now, not the best way to start off with her. He had been warned by Colonel Clark, his predecessor who had chosen the location for Base 19 and overseen the first year of construction, not to appear weak. She'll get you, boy. Plain and simple. She'll look you up and down and read you in one quick look. Sam had laughed at the time. Now he knew he should have taken the older man seriously. He dressed and groomed with care, and after he checked his perfect appearance in the mirror, he let his secretary know where he was going.

Take a guard, she said, not looking up from her computer.

Thanks Mom, he answered wryly.

Fine, cop attitude, the secretary said drolly. I'm just remembering a certain Newton incident last year...

Sam spun on his heel and left, his face burning. Everyone of higher rank, and their secretarial pool, knew about the incident, no matter how hard he worked to keep it under wraps. He blamed Striker, sure the little geek told the tale somehow. Mother had caught Sam out when he had strayed into her land with no more than his eighty year old driver for protection. And she caught him easily, too. Easier than he wanted to remember. One minute their jeep was parked and Sam was taking a piss on the side of the road, and the next Mother was there.

I think you'll be wanting to die with your pants up, Captain, she had said.

Sam hadn't even heard her come up the road. She could have killed him right there, and everyone who heard the story knew it. She could have so easily killed him.

Mother let him go, though, with no more than a stern talking-to about boundaries, which was almost worse than death. It's not nice if you don't ask permission to come over for tea, she had said. Her Wolf smirked, his hand centimeters from the knife he carried.

Now, next time you want to come over and play, you call up my Mother and ask permission, Wolf had said, relishing the moment. In another life, Sam knew he and Wolf could have been brothers. In this life, Sam had to hate him. If you're good, I just might let you use my toys. They could easily have been thick as thieves.

The embarrassment still burned every time Sam thought of the exchange, and he refused to acknowledge his secretary's jab. He gave a curt order for two MPs to follow his jeep, and left the building, ignoring his secretary's smirk. The big house in Newton, he said to his driver.

Aw, man, the driver grumbled. I didn't sign up for Newton duty.

Yes, you did, Sam cut him off. Go.

The new driver sighed. He'd only been to Newton once, and never wanted to go there again. Mother had made him cry. He glanced at his Major, saw the look in the man's eyes, and knew he couldn't argue. He sent a quick look of dread to the two MPs, also squirming in their uniforms, and headed down the road.

Taking the short route through the fields, the trip to the Mother's big house on the hill only took about five minutes. Sam used the time to instruct his men.

I mean it, he said forcefully. Any one of you speaks out of turn and it's mucking duty for a month. I'm sure the soldiers working the barns would be more than happy for you to take their places in the cow shit. Give them a vacation! The MPs exchanged glances behind the Major's head. Not one word without my say so.

What...what if she talks to me again? asked the driver painfully.

Did I stutter? Sam demanded. No matter what, you wait for my instructions. I won't have you bawling like a baby all the way home again.

But she said..

Sam held up his hand, stopping the driver's words. No excuses! Don't you fall for that crap again, you hear me? No one says or does anything without a direct order from me. Goddamn it, one of these days I'll come out on top!

The driver highly doubted that, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Everyone knew that Mother always won in the end.

They stopped at the gate. One of Newton's guards came out and asked what the Major wanted. I need to discuss matters of state with Mother, Sam said formally. It was exactly how she demanded he speak, and he knew it was futile to do any differently.

She's unavailable right now, the man said calmly.

Sam wondered for a second how to proceed. I know there was difficulty here this morning, he said carefully, but it's of the utmost importance that I be seen.

The man went into the gate shack and picked up a walkie. Sam couldn't hear what was said, but the man motioned them forward. Leave your weapons.

Sam nodded and told his men to hand over their guns. They did as they were told, and the gate keeper instructed them to go only to the house. I mean it, Captain.

It's Major, Sam said through clenched teeth.

The guard shrugged. Whatever. It's your ass if you don't listen. I mean it, man. Don't push her today. It's just... The man looked around. It's just not the day for it.

Sam's eyes narrowed. I don't take orders from you.

The older man at the gate sighed. You want to play today, Captain, you're in a game you can't win. He gave the gate a tug and it opened for the jeep. Just giving you a fighting chance, son. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The MPs looked nervous as they rode through into Newton. Just keep your cool, Sam said as they turned up the hill towards the big house. They parked in front of the porch and Sam got out. Stand at the ready and come only if I call, he instructed. And don't talk to anyone! The driver slumped in the seat, wishing they were already leaving.

She's not here, said one of her lackeys as soon as the door opened.

Who are you? Sam asked, unable to place a name with the face.

Uzi.

Sam sighed. Can't one of you have a real name? Uzi set his jaw, and Sam held up a hand. Fine. Where is she? Uzi shook his head. Now don't give me that. It's important. Where is she?

Busy. Pick another day, Captain.

It's Major, you... Sam took a quick breath to calm his temper. Uzi, you said? Well, Uzi, I suggest you tell me where to find Mother in the hopes that you can save her from arrest and prosecution.

Uzi's look changed. What do you mean?

The look of uncertainty on the man's face let Sam know it was the right card to play. He pressed on. Earlier today I observed Mother in the act of breaking an accord between the army and Newton over common ground laws. Now, I think even you can understand how serious this is. If you want to help her, you will tell me where she is so that she can have a chance to explain herself before she is up for a court martial!

It was a bluff, a huge gamble...and it worked. Her men were loyal but, on the whole, uneducated as to the way the army really worked. Sam couldn't court martial Mother, and she would know it. No doubt that very afternoon, Uzi would be educated on such things as well. For now, though...

I...don't arrest her, Uzi said quickly. I don't know where she is. They got off and left and I don't know... Uzi shook his head, becoming more upset by the second. Shit! Striker! he bellowed through the open door behind him.

Striker came out of the house and openly glared at Sam. What the hell do you want, Jenns?

Sam sighed. His ploy worked with one monkey, he'd have to sell it to another. Or at least try. As I was just explaining to Uzi here, he made a face at the name, I am here to see Mother on a matter of great urgency.

Yeah, well, she's a bit preoccupied, Striker said with a sneer.

The little punk was half Sam's size. He could literally break the kid without even getting winded. And yet, the geek had guts. Stupid, stupid guts. Nice chip on your shoulder there, kid.

Why don't you just turn around and go back to your puppet master?

Sam pressed his lips firmly together in a tight line. While I would normally love to stand here and marvel at your lack of concern for your own mortality, I don't have time. Let's cut the chit chat and just tell me where she is.

Striker crossed his arms and shook his head. Not today, man. She doesn't need you up her ass today.

Stupid. Annoying. Nerdy...but devoted. I know, Striker, Sam said, softening a bit. I get it. But she broke a treaty. I'm actually here to give her a chance to defend herself before she faces a court martial.

Striker held up a hand. That's crap. You can't court martial her.

Can't I? She signed a treaty. Inside, Sam silently begged for Striker to buy it.

Striker's eyes narrowed. He believed it was a bluff. This asshole had no authority over Mother, no one did. But, he knew she signed treaties, and he knew just how seriously Mother took those contracts. Damn it, he said under his breath. You're a real shit, you know that Jenns? You can't do this tomorrow?

Sam gave a small shrug, knowing his gamble worked. Might be too late.

Striker swore a blue streak as he went inside and motioned for Sam to sit. You can wait your damn turn there. He pointed to the kitchen chair. Sam considered arguing, but decided he pushed it far enough as he took a seat and folded his hands on the table, the picture of the perfect guest.

Striker glared for another minute before turning away and walking back outside. In a moment, he returned with Uzi and another man Sam didn't know, both obviously instructed to stand guard.

I don't get coffee? he needled.

Striker clenched his jaw. It was one of Mother's rules that all visitors got coffee, and Striker damn well knew it. It would be his ass in a sling if he didn't follow protocol. He stomped over to the coffee pot and poured a cup, slamming it down in front of Sam with a fake smile. Anything else I can get you? Fresh towels? You need a little snack? How about a complementary mint on you pillow?

Sam let out a laugh. You have an excellent future in the service industry, kid. Striker told him where to put what and stormed off, Sam's laugh following him out the door.

Sam sighed deeply and sat back to wait. He was familiar with the big house and how it ran, as much as any outside observer could be. If he got up and tried to go into another room, he knew he risked being shot. And rightly so, he admitted. He'd do the same if they were on his base and poking around. He didn't hold that against any of them. Even Striker's attitude was more amusing than offensive. Mother ran a tight and highly admirable ship around Newton.

Guests were to be ushered into a kitchen. The first time Sam was brought to the kitchen for a meeting, the banality of it shocked him. He had assumed that such a place would have a professional meeting space, as his base did, as all the bases did. The people spoke so formally in Newton, almost as if they were a real government, then had their visiting dignitaries, as they called guests, sit in a damn kitchen. But over the years, Mother's reasoning became clear.

In modern times, the kitchen was a symbol. Sam knew that if he got up and looked, every cupboard would be filled with food. There were three stoves, all of which were used at the community meals to feed the great number of citizens of Newton. He knew from his own snooping that behind the little door was an entire pantry full of hundreds of plates and buckets of silverware. And no one could miss the electric lighting all around the kitchen or the hum of two working refrigerators.

In the after times, a full and functional kitchen was the best way to show success and it wasn't an accident that visiting powers were met in such a room of modern opulence. Newton needed hundreds of plates and buckets of silverware to go around because they had so many people to feed. Newton had enough food to always keep their cupboards crammed full. Newton had not one but two working refrigerators, which meant they not only had electricity, but fresh foods to store as well. It was all carefully designed to leave an impression.

In Sam's opinion, it was the coffee, though, that really did the trick. Sam took a sip and found it was exactly as he expected, full force, not watered down. Mother had to have a source for the beans, some supply line Sam didn't know about. No one else could offer real coffee, every single time. It was fresh and always available. That's what stuck with Sam. Beyond every other show of success Mother could display, it was the coffee that got him at his core. Everything else could merely be a show. The food, for all he knew, could be empty boxes and cans in the cupboards, no more than an illusion. The plates and silverware could also be carefully designed for visual effect.

But having coffee, with milk and sugar, every single time, even when he wasn't expected and just popped in, was different. That wasn't just a show Mother put on, that was true success. Even on his base they only rarely had it, when some hidden stash was found somewhere. Yet Newton did, always. And sugar. He sighed and heaped another scoop of luxury into his coffee. They had to use honey at the base. Sometimes even molasses. But not for a long time had he managed to find real sugar for his base, either white or brown. Sam would kill for Newton's trade connections. He fought the childish urge to fill his breast pocket with sugar that he could savor later.

Sam finished his first cup and hesitated only a second before getting up for a second coffee. Uzi jumped when he moved and Sam laughed. Calm down, killer. I'm just getting coffee. Uzi's jaw tensed but he said nothing. Sam got his coffee and sat back down. He was spooning in ridiculous amounts of sugar when he heard the jeep pull up in the front yard.

In seconds Wolf burst through the door. Look you little punk ass, he said, marching right up to Sam. I'm not going to believe some half-baked story about a treaty, so why don't you just tell me what's so important that it couldn't wait one damned day? He was hissing at Sam, obviously not wanting Mother to hear.

Interesting, thought Sam. Easy there, big dog. You got rabies or something?

Wolf let three seconds pass before speaking. His temper was too close to snapping to trust himself to speak without trying to cool down first. All Jenns had to do was say one wrong thing and Wolf would unleash. He'd feel better, he knew, for about five seconds until Mother came in and saw Jenns in a beaten and crumpled heap on the floor. It was that thought alone that kept him in check. Ask her about it tomorrow, he said through a clenched jaw.

Where'd the body go? asked Sam quietly. It was clear that Wolf's bark was real, and Sam respected the fact that it must have been one hell of a bad day for him already.

A muscle in Wolf's jaw ticked and for a second, Sam wondered if the man would talk or swing. Not where it should have, he conceded curtly. I know, okay? I get it. But you know better than to question. If she says it's fine, it's fine.

Sam shook his head. I don't know anything like that, not when it's clearly an act of emotion that's taken over. You know every single body is supposed to be burned. It's the safest...

Save the safety lecture, Mother snapped, walking straight to the coffee pot. Both men jumped in surprise at her voice. She got a cup of coffee and stood at the counter stirring in milk, either ignoring the fact that she was dropping clods of dirt on the floor or simply not caring. There's nothing that says I have to burn. I can bury if I damn well want to.

Wolf shot Sam a look that spoke volumes.

Okay, Sam said slowly. Maybe it's not technically forbidden. However, just as it's your responsibility to keep Newton safe, it's my responsibility to do the same for Base 19. Since we share a lake and a river system, it's my duty to swiftly and thoroughly investigate any possible contamination threat.

Mother sighed heavily. Are you done yet, Captain? Sam didn't bother to correct her. He learned long ago that anything he said would only make her ribbing worse. I assure you the location I chose puts no one in danger. He opened his mouth to argue, and then Mother snapped. She slammed her cup on the counter, shattering it in a shower of ceramic and coffee. It was the first time she had ever let her composure slip in front of him, and Sam was stunned.

No one in the room moved. Out the corner of his eye, Sam saw Striker peek around the doorway then slowly back away. Perhaps the kid had a self-preservation instinct after all.

A beautiful person was taken from me today and hell yes I'm angry! But that doesn't mean I'm an idiot. I assure you the location of the... Her voice faltered for a second at the word. The grave is nowhere harmful. I haven't spent five years breaking myself for Newton only to let some sadistic fuck screw it all up. I'm not deaf, blind, or stupid! Wolf got the impression she was yelling at him, too, and shifted uncomfortably under her gaze before she turned and looked directly at Sam. I know you'd love nothing more than for me to go away, but surely even you'll admit I kind of know what I'm doing.

Sam's face was red and all he could do was nod. Once again a it only took a few simple words, and he was put in his place. He really wanted to hate her, truly he did.

Now, if you'll excuse me, you nosy bastard, I've got a long day of shit ahead of me and now I have to face the rest of it without coffee. She pushed off the counter and strode out, bellowing for Wolf and Uzi over her shoulder.

Wolf glared at the soldier. Happy with yourself, nosy bastard?

Sam stood and slammed his hat on his head, grinding his teeth in anger and humiliation. At least I get to leave.

Wolf let out a bark of humorless laughter. And if I were you, I'd stay gone for awhile.

You tell me that every time.

This time I mean it. You poked the bear at the wrong time, Jenns.

Uzi ran back in. Wolf, come on. She means it!

Wolf sighed and headed after him.

Why do you put up with it? It was a question Sam often asked of Wolf.

Wolf gave the answer he always did. You'd trade places with me in a heartbeat and you know it. He gave Sam a nod and trotted off across the yard.

As Sam walked down the porch steps he could hear Mother's yell coming from the barn. He stopped in front of the blood stain in the front yard and glanced back at the barn. He knew what would happen to the man, and he now knew why. It was justice, not some unprovoked crime of passion he witnessed. He was sure the body was buried in a safe place; he hadn't honestly thought otherwise. And he learned that Mother could, indeed, get pissed and lose her cool. While the details of the day were still a mystery, it hadn't been a total waste of a trip.

Sam hopped into his jeep and told his men they were ready to go. So who got killed? he asked his driver casually.

Some chick named Carol.

Cora, Sam corrected quietly, swearing fiercely under his breath. Well, that explained the temper. Cora was one of The Herd, as he and his men called those who lived in the big house with Mother. The inner circle, as his predecessor called them. She was the lady with one leg that often greeted people who waited for an audience with Mother. He had spent hours with Cora himself over the years. She was kind and sweet and good, her ridiculous optimism infectious. Where'd they bury her?

Oh, 'bout two clicks down that way, under some big tree she liked.

Though grateful for the information, it bugged Sam that he knew beforehand that his men would ignore his orders and gossip with the people of Newton. And how did you come by this information?

One of those kids outside was feeling chatty and... The driver stopped and tensed his hands on the wheel, realizing his error. Oh, shit.

Oh shit is right, Sam said sternly. A month's worth, in fact.

The driver slumped in his seat, his face burning. Mucking detail for a whole month. Yes, sir. He hated Newton. Nothing good ever happened when they went there.

Sam nodded to the gate keeper as they passed and sat back in his seat, removing his hat and rubbing his eyes. It could have gone worse, he consoled himself. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, wishing he was already home with a stiff drink. And poor Wolf. Sam let out a small laugh thinking about the hell that man would go through the rest of the day. Yes, it could have been a lot worse.

And still, there was a hint of truth to what Wolf always said. If Sam was honest about it, he'd hop ships. He didn't feel like a traitor for it. Things in the after times weren't as concrete as they once were. It wasn't traitorous to take the advantageous road, it was just survival. The old man he took over for had said the same thing. If I weren't in bed with the army down to my toes, I'd beg on my knees to be over at her place.

But something kept Sam where he was, kept him pushing up those ranks. It could have been as simple as the comfortable life, a thought that made him feel uneasy in its shallow truth. A house, hot water, even recently some form of television on Base 19. They were doing things, big things. Great things, even. They were taking huge strides towards getting back the lives they lost. And he was proud of being part of it. He was proud of what he could say he offered his own people.

They drove through the outer gates of