World in Tatters Ch. 7

The walk back into the tent city was tense to say the least. I didn’t want Alice in the city with me. I needed her to be safe. She’s been through too much in the last few years, I don’t think I could forgive myself if my nosing around endangered the life she seems to have built here with Bertrand, such as it is. Or worse, dragged her into this mess that I find myself in now. She’s too important to me. But the decision had been made for me, and once Alice made up her mind, there was no changing it.

I let Alice lead the way through the ever changing mess that made up the several square miles surrounding the main city. As we make our way through, I notice that several of the tents on the outskirts have been packed up and taken away. I have a sneaking suspicion they will be replaced with other travelers by nightfall.

We didn’t really talk until we made it to Alice’s tent. As predicted, Bertrand had Alice’s pack ready to go just inside the tent. After inspecting the contents to make sure he hadn’t left out anything vital, Alice walks over to a large chest in the corner, and opens it to reveal a small armory. No surprise. She pulls out two daggers, wraps them in a pair of clothes from her pack, and stuffs them deep into the bottom.

“How many weapons does that make?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I just saw you stuff two daggers into your bag, and I know you well enough to know that you’re most likely carrying several more. So, how many does that make? I may need to know in an emergency.”

“Fifteen.”

“How…?”

“Two in the bag. Two in each boot. Three on each thigh. Two hidden in my vest. And one here…” She reaches for her midsection and tugs at her belt buckle, then moves her hand to touch something hanging around her neck. A little bit of color came to her cheeks “Well, actually, sixteen if you count this one. But I’ve never used it.” She pulls a thin silver-colored chain up to reveal a decorative silver leaf engraved along the margin.

“Is that…?”

“The necklace knife you gave me for my thirteenth birthday? Yeah.”

“So…why have you never used it?”

“I never needed to. I always had several other options. I didn’t want it to get damaged, or lost.” Gently touching the knife below her lower lip, staring wistfully at the wall behind me. Then refocusing, almost as if realizing where she was, “Plus, it’s too small to do any real damage.”

“Yeah right. We both know you could put someone down with a stick half that size.”

“Yeah, well, stop trying to flatter me. Let’s get going. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

With that, she throws her pack over her shoulder and disappears out of the tent. I swear I see a flash of red on her cheeks as she passes by. Probably just my imagination.

*****

Alice’s tent isn’t too far from the main gate into the city. It only takes us about twenty minutes to get to the back of the line at the gate. This line is slow moving, so it will probably take another hour or more before we even make it to the security checkpoint.

“Do we really have to wait in this line?”

“Unfortunately, yes. There are other ways in, but we’d have to wait until nightfall, and even then, it’s too risky. This is simply our best bet of getting in without raising too much suspicion.”

“Yeah, I hoped you wouldn’t say that. I just feel very exposed here. I can’t get recognized before we get inside. Not that I think anyone here knows me, but after the incident yesterday, it doesn’t feel safe.”

“Now you know how I feel being here every day. If I ever got recognized as the princess of Atlanta, Bert and I would be dead.”

“It’s different for you, though. You’ve been here for a while. You have connections. You have a cover established. I don’t. Rachel and Jason don’t. I’m just on edge.”

“Well, we’ll be in the gate soon enough. Just chill. The guards aren’t usually very smart, but they’ll notice if you start acting weird.”

We wait here for what seemed like an eternity. I feel like we were being watched the whole time. Which, I’m sure we are, considering the twenty-foot-high manned guard towers looming at several points around the city wall. The walls themselves are about half the height of the guard towers. They are made of layers of old, rusted sheet metal welded to steel beams. The beams stick up a couple feet above the sheet metal, and have hundreds of feet razor wire strung haphazardly between them.

There are guard towers on either side of the gate, and one every two hundred or so feet around the city. Each of the gate towers has two guards with rifles hovering over patrons seeking entry to the city, but the other towers only have one guard each carrying only a sidearm and a pair of binoculars. Security is pretty tight, I must admit.

We finally make it to the front of the line. The first guard takes my bag and pulls it open. He digs through it presumably to find any hidden weapons or bombs I might be sneaking into their precious city. The second guard pats me down. Guard one pulls out my combat knife and looks me in the eye.

“Is there a problem?”

“No. Knives like this are allowed, just don’t do anything stupid.”

“No worries. I won’t.” I lie.

The guard hands my pack to me and waves me on to the permit checkpoint. As I move to join the secondary line, I look back and see Alice hand her bag off. She walks up to the second guard and looks him in the eye. Without a word, he gets visibly nervous and barely touches her before waving her through. She grabs her bag and joins me in line for the next checkpoint.

“The perks of being a beautiful woman?”

“Aww, you think I’m beautiful?”

“I mean…uh… yeah.” I stammer out, “But more intimidating than anything.”

“Nope, nice try. You said I’m beautiful. You can’t take that back now. It’s out there. Forever.”

“Oh shut up, and hand me my papers.”

She digs through her bag and pulls out the leather folder left for her by Bertrand. She pulls out our permits and passes mine over. It doesn’t take much longer for us to get through the line for the next checkpoint. This checkpoint is manned by a few nicely dressed men. Anywhere else, I would have mistaken them for business men. Well, except for the sidearms holstered at their wastes. I hand one man my papers. He’s an older gentleman. Dark-skinned, with a hint of a Creole accent peeking through. From what I’ve been able to overhear, he seems well educated. Well, as educated as anyone can be around here. He peruses the passport for a moment.

“Welcome to the city, Mr. Eubanks. I see that it’s your first time here. Business or pleasure?”

“Oh. Uh. Business and pleasure. I’m looking to sell some horses, and get a good drink in the process.”

“Very good sir.” A smile cracks across his face, as he stamps my papers and waves me through. “Enjoy your time in Picayune.”

“Thanks.”

I step through the other side of the checkpoint and into the city, stopping a few feet away to wait for Alice.

“Good day to you Ms. Alice.”

“Hello, George. How are you today?”

“I’m not too bad. It’s a bit too hot out here for my tastes. It always is this time of year.”

“Very true.”

“How about yourself? Oh, can I see your papers?”

“Of course. Here.” She hands him her passport. “I’m doing alright. An old friend came into town last night.” She flashes me a sly grin.

“That’s really nice. Well, here you go. You take care now.”

“I will. Say hello to your wife for me.”

“Will do. But she’ll expect you to come by for dinner again sometime.”

“I look forward to it. Take care.”

“Adieu, Ms. Alice.”

With a slight wave goodbye, Alice crosses the checkpoint and joins me.

“So, who is George to you?”

“A friend. He and his wife took me in shortly after I got here. Bert and I had gotten separated, but George found me: cold, exhausted, starving, drenched from a storm. He and his wife Rowena brought me some food, a blanket, fresh clothes, and took me back to their home inside the walls. They were the first people to really be nice to me after leaving Atlanta. I stayed with them a few weeks, until George used his government connections to help me find Bert. We’ve kept in touch. Rowena and George often invite Bert and me for meals. George is a great cook, and Rowena’s work gets them access to some prime ingredients.”

“I see. So, they can be trusted.”

“Yeah. I mean, George did help us get our initial papers here in Picayune. That being said, I don’t want him getting involved in any of this.”

“Good to know. Do they know who you really are?”

“They know that we escaped Atlanta during the coup. But they think that Bert is my uncle and they have no idea that my mom was… you know.”

“Probably for the best. So, anyway. You’re the one who knows your way around. Where to first?”

“First, we go meet up with my contact. He’s got a place for us to stay. We’ll drop our gear, and figure out the next move. My contact has some connections we might be able to exploit.”

“Great. Lead the way.”

We move quickly through the densely packed streets. Streets lined with a hodgepodge of old, rundown buildings built in the time before the Fall, and newer simpler buildings. The area we entered seems to be an open-air market, vendor booths set up throughout. Horse carts filled with various fruits and supplies make deliveries.

We walk for a time before Alice tugs at my sleeve, guiding me down an alley off the main market. We follow the side of a two story building around to a rear entrance.

“My contact here will set us up a place for a couple days. He’s already expecting us.”

We enter the building into the maid’s corridor and follow it to a set of stairs at the end of the hall. We hike up to the second floor where the hard concrete and tile floors gives way to dingy carpet. Several numbered doors line both sides of the hallway. Alice knocks on the door labeled 206 in a pattern I recognize as an ancient code for S.O.S.

Slowly, the door creaks open, stopped by the chain latch. I briefly catch a glimpse of a tousled head, and a bespectacled eye, before the door closes again. We hear some rattling on the other side, then the door opens up completely, revealing quite the scene.

The room appears as though a tornado passed through it recently. Gadgets and old circuit boards lay strewn around floor. There’s a desk in the corner with a kerosene lamp burning bright, and tools haphazardly scattered around some sort of contraption. The sheets and blanket are hanging off the side of the bed, the couch is littered with pieces of discarded projects.

The man who opened the door is the complete opposite of the room he keeps. His hair is a bit curly, but it’s neatly kept. His beard is nicely trimmed, and his clothes clean and unwrinkled. Frankly, it’s quite a jarring contradiction.

“Hey, Alice. Come in. Quickly.” The strange man ushers the two of us into the room, checks the hall behind us, and shuts the door.

“We’re not staying in…here… are we?” I gesture to the mess surrounding me.

“No. Of course not. I have the key to your room over here.” The man crosses over to the polluted desk and pulls a briefcase out from beneath. He sets it on the bed and opens it revealing a disorganized jumble of keys. After fumbling around for a moment he pulls out a set with a tab labeled 409 attached to the ring. “Here. This is yours. Don’t lose it. It’s the only one I have.”

“Thanks, Alexandre. I really appreciate the help. Especially on short notice.”

“It’s not a problem, Alice. I’d do about anything for you.” At that, Alice became visibly uncomfortable, glancing my way, eyes pleading for a reason to leave.

“Well…Alex, thanks for the key, but we should probably get going.”

“It’s Alexandre! If you please.”

“Alright, fine. Thank you, Alexandre. We should get going.” I insist.

With that, I let Alice cross behind me to the door before following her out myself. We head back down the hallway into the stairwell. Once we reach the fourth floor, I tap Alice on the elbow to get her attention.

“What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“Oh, you know, the fact that ‘Alexandre’ very clearly upset you. I mean, what was that, ‘I would do about anything for you, Alice.’ Seriously?”

“It’s nothing. Alexandre and I had a bit of a fling a while back. I ended it, but I don’t think he got over it.”

“I see, and yet, you still have to use him as your contact here? That’s gotta be awkward.”

“You have no idea. But I think he’s harmless.”

We proceed into our room and shut the door, finding in the room only one bed, a table, a chest of drawers, and a tattered wooden chair.