the Crackers of Dawn

By Garrett Stinson

Survivors of the socialist takeover of several coastal states have formed a small community in the west where they can exist free of the oppressive regimes.

As many had feared, there soon appear a marauding band - one that extorts and enslaves a region. Only this group has a far more ominous agenda.

Some of the community want to form a leadership council but one member refuses adamantly. He insists on anarchy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Martian Publishing
• Release date: Jul 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005043186

Book preview

THE CRACKERS OF DAWN

By Garrett Stinson

MARTIAN PUBLISHING

Copyright © 2020 by Martian Publishing Company

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

No portion of this volume may

be reproduced in any format

without the express written

permission of the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction.

Any resemblance to persons or

organizations, living or extinct,

is entirely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

The strut slipped again.

With Alyson's voice echoing in his head, he cursed under his breath – quickly looking around to make sure none of the kids were within scorching range.

Jordy lay on the dirt about twenty feet away, absorbed in his reading. The sisters were a bit further, weaving hemp fibers in the shade of the canvas awning in front of their adobe home.

Gazing past the building, he noticed a haze just beyond the western escarpment where the plateau dropped off into the dry Babocamari Wash.

Alyson's voice had been talking about… like a dream dissipating on waking, the memory of the imagined conversation slipped away. He shook his head and thought he would ask Fred Morganson about what was happening in the Wash; he lived closest to the escarpment – surely his sons would have been curious.

Looking back at the troublesome strut, he debated how to attempt the repair a moment before looking toward his son.

Jordy, can you give me a hand?

Looking up from the book,the boy grinned. Sure thing, Dad. Setting the book on its open face in the dirt, he got to his feet and approached the solar collector. Whatcha need?

Nodding toward one of the supporting struts, he said, Hold this one steady while I tighten it down. The wind last night seems to have knocked it out of alignment.

Jordy put his hand on the strut while his father checked the angles.

Down just a little… a little more… Okay, right there. Twisting the wrench, he quickly tightened the bolt at the base of the platform. Let me check… He grinned. Perfect! Thanks for your help.

Releasing the strut, Jordy grinned. Anytime, Dad.

Glancing toward the book laying in the dirt, the father said, So, whatcha readin' today?

"Treasure Island."

He chuckled. That's the third time, right? He saw the nod. We do have other books, y'know? He chuckled.

Yeah, I know but I just like that story.

Okay, Jordy. Have fun. He watched the boy return to his patch of dirt and quickly become reabsorbed in the timeless tome.

Putting the tools back in their box, he heard a sound to his right and looked to see a familiar head appear, coming his direction up the rise. Thanks to the uneven terrain on the plateau, he could see the Morganson's place a half-mile distant but could not see the house of his nearest neighbor in the opposite direction.

He grinned and waved. Eric! Good morning!

Howdy!

He waited until his neighbor got closer before he continued. How'd you fare that storm last night? Some wind, huh?

Pulling a handkerchief out of the back pocket of his jeans, Eric chuckled while wiping the sweat off his receding gray hairline. Yeah, heck of a storm it was but we came through without any damage. I was up to the wee hours making sure it didn't get any worse. He nodded toward the collector. It mess you up much?

Glancing back a moment, Reggie shook his head. Nah, just knocked the collector a bit out of alignment. The usual stuff. He shrugged and his eyes returned to the haze in the west.

Following the gaze, Eric said, You noticed it too, huh?

Some damage from the… His voice trailed off at the shaking of Eric's head.

Eric's look was hard. After a sigh, he said, Outliers.

Concern was immediately evident. Out here? So soon?

Yep. Heard from Morganson. His place is high up on the ridge, y'know, and he came over real early this morning to spread the word. He nodded. One of his sons, not him of course. Said he skipped your place as the curtains were still pulled.

Yeah, we were up late for that storm. After working his jaw a bit, Reggie nodded. So, does it look as bad as it sounds?

Eric's dry chuckle could barely be heard. Yes, son, I'd say so.

Shaking his head, Reggie glanced over at his children; Jordy re-reading his book in the dirt, the sisters by the hut.

Eric was still talking, I'm pretty sure the situation back east is like it is on the west coast with the oligarchs clinging to their control but I'm certain we won't get any help from that quarter.

Nor would I want it. Reggie shook his head. This is our problem and we'll take care of it. He grinned. Or die trying, right?

After a moment gazing at Reggie's kids, Eric nodded. It's the price we pay for leaving the system behind. Doesn't come as a shock to me.

Good man! Patting his neighbor's shoulder, Reggie grinned. Now, what do we know about the situation?

He led his guest into the hut. Furnishings were sparse. Reggie went to a counter jutting out of one wall. Removing the dishcloth from a pitcher, he poured the contents into a couple of glasses.

Accepting a glass, Eric nodded and drank, then made a face. Damn, Reggie. Can't you even make a decent pitcher of lemonade? Alyson's was… He paused at the shadow fell across his host's face. Oh, sorry, man. I didn't mean…

No. Reggie waved it off. It's been over a year now I know. I still miss her but, you know, you gotta keep on truckin'.

Sorry, man. He sighed. It's a shame y'all couldn't get anything done about that… well, you know… before.

Reggie shrugged and blinked his eyes a few times, staring toward the door. Pre-existing condition, they said. Insurance wouldn't cover it and we certainly couldn't. We did whatever we could to put off the inevitable… she fought so valiantly… His voice grew a bit thick. Just… He shrugged. Damned rules. Nothing we could do.

Yeah… I know.

Turning back, Reggie sipped the lemonade, wincing a bit, and sat. So, what do we know about these outliers?

Shrugging, Eric shook his head. Not much, I 'spose. They've apparently come out of the west but no one saw them arrive. Fred Junior – he's the one who brought the message – said they've set up their encampment over on the Babocamari Creekbed. He didn't know how long they'd been there but it was when they started drilling operations that they noticed anything.

Reggie tipped his glass back and forth, watching the fluid level. Drilling, huh? Any idea what the water table depth is over there?

It can't be too very far down, I'd 'spect. 'Course it hasn't had any flow in the creekbed for a couple of years, s'far's I know. Shrugging, he shook his head. Drilling means they're here to stay.

His eyes drifting up to the corner of the room, Reggie said, So, their first concern would naturally be water. Did Junior happen to notice any tanker trucks in the mix?

Eric nodded. Yep. He says they got one clean rig that looked like water and a couple of bigger messier plugs that look like gas or diesel. He raised his glass, pausing before he drank to say, And, he said, they've already got a lower class.

Slaves! Reggie grunted. So they've already been busy somewhere in the Reggieion. As far as I know, outliers don't travel too far without them.

Don't know, Eric shrugged. And I doubt most of them last very long at that employment. He shook his head. Nobody has heard of anything yet, that's for sure.

After taking another drink, Reggie's gaze was intense. Do we know anyone beyond the ridge to check with?

No one that I know of well enough. He shrugged. Morganson should have some connections out thetaway but my contacts are all on this side of the ridge.

Yeah, same here. Another sigh. We should really have something more to go on before we even begin to form a risk assessment. He grinned. Who knows? Maybe these guys are different from the one we've encountered before.

After grunting, Eric downed the last of his glass, and winced. I woulda thought there'd be good pickin's available further west. I didn't think we'd see any of their kind out hereabouts for years.

Guess the supply of such groups has already tapped the demand out there.

Eric glared. You and yer fancy talk!

Reggie laughed. For all we know, this present group may have evolved beyond its nastier roots and is willing to simply survive alongside the rest of us in this wilderness.

With slaves? Eric grunted. And that, son, is what I'd call a pipe dream.

Hey, he shrugged, there's always hope.

Rising, the older man sighed. "And I'd best be getting along. I told Junior that