Fencemen part Seven
Rebels part One
2144 Louisiana Territory
Southern Sector, Bogalusa
"How in detroit can we be so blessed today, Jack? No humidity, only a deader here and there, way ahead of schedule. I don't think
we deserve it this damn good!"
"I cannot believe you are tempting the gods like that, Trav. You just do not give a fuck do you?"
"No sir, I do not."
Mars and Morris Fencemen inc was having an easy day. Twenty plus miles north of lake pontchartrain, their latest job seemed to be going
easier than had been expected. A Narrower, more complex fence system was being put in place to enable various livestock and their herders, safe passage
through an area that was the only solid land bridge in the swamp. Used by Deader hordes as an invasion corridor, many of the unluckier ones got stuck in the swamp
and helplessly moaned at potential meals working just yards away.
"At lunch time, I say we have a little target practice, whaddya think?" Travis nodded to the dozens of stuck Deaders.
"Oh yeah, you don't care about your spent slugs. These mini harpoons can be reused. I don't feel like mucking around in there to get them out
and then get bitten in half by a gator. Some Fencemen I would be." Jack smiled. The old fifty cal air rifle versus spear gun debate revived.
"Oh you scared, Yank? Maybe I will get my west coast bonafide aristocrat warrior princess to fetch em, eh?" Travis nodded towards
their hemavore anti zombie muscle, Laurel Simone. The vampire warrior was sitting atop her anti-solar armor and veiled like a bedouin. Not much for her to do
but watch and listen. That was as important as smashing Deaders.
"Well might as well have her do something. She's getting top pay for just sitting around like a lady of leisure." Jack spat.
Laurel did not respond. Despite her heightened sense and mindspeak she did not hear Jack's insult. Partly from learning to tune out his
contempt and 'v-racism' but more importantly because she sensed something amiss a few miles away. Like a bird of prey she was still and looked to the north.
Travis was not long in sensing her sensing it. He walked up to the mark three Black Widow hemavore anti solar armor.
"Laurel, honey? What is it? A horde coming this way?"
"No. Not Deaders. Humans. A large group, in vehicles." Laurel's voice went into a monotone as if she was going into a trance. Travis knew she
was trying to do more in depth reconnaissance.
Jack also walked over, sensing his good friend's concern. Reading non verbal cues was an important skill for Fencemen. The difference between having a beer
later in the bar or being ripped apart like a barbecued roast chicken.
"Trav, whats up?"
"Laurel's spooked." No smart quip came out of Jack's mouth this time.
"About twenty people. Armed. Its a scout unit I think. They have those old flags on them, from the old empire."
Travis immediately had a look of anger on his face.
"Neo-Americans?!..Yankee scum! So there poking their noses around here, heh?" Travis turned to the north with his big bore air rifle and spat on the ground.
"There gonna fuck up these fences. Its what they do! Using Deaders as an auxiliary army. Following in the evil ways of Sherman and Grant!"
"Whoah, Trav there is nothing we can do. We need the militia's for this." Jack tried to reason with his hot headed friend.
"Jack is right, Travis. We are outnumbered and outgunned by the looks of it. There are also a few of my kind mixed in with them." Laurel advised.
"Figures, yankees and bloodsuckers. God help us." Travis shook his head and lowered his rifle.
"Alright, lets bug out. We need to reach the check point and warn the upper militias, pronto." Travis walked along the unfinished fence posts and began to yell
at his workers.
"Alright, boys and girls. We gotta bug out, grab your gear and go!" Immediately the Fencemen dropped what was too heavy to carry and gathered up
their tools. Evasion was as important a skill as taking out a Deader or putting up a Fence. Soon various trucks and bikes were heading south to the main road.
Laurel, Travis and Jack stayed in the rear to make sure they were covered. The crew sub chief was to report to the militia head as soon as he reached the
Soon the sounds of loud dirt bikes could be heard. Laurel looked concerned.
"They are only two miles away. They must know of that road. Our people are going to be overrun."
Travis and Jack looked at each other grimly.
"Shit." Jack sighed.
Laurel looked calm but her eyes shone red. "I will not kill but I will stop them anyway I can."
Travis began to laugh. "Well we aren't holding back, Laurel. You won't have a problem with us killing do you?"
Laurel smiled. "My vow is not to kill, it is not yours. I have no problem with whatever you do. You are paying me after all. If you should kill one I immobilize or if
a Deader gets them, I am technically keeping my vow."
"It seems like this vow, was put on you. Not chosen. Am I right! You fang faces all do that code of honor crap on each other." Jack added. "You never extend it to us
Laurel said nothing, but Jack already knew the answer. He was raised under vampire domination. They used the term 'v-racism' all the time, what about using humans as prey?
How could they use such stupid trotskyite terms when life was now archeo feudalist? Jack had ranted and raved about that so much he did not see the point anymore, these southerners seemed to worship these fang faces!
"Well then its settled. So, How bout you Jack? You ready to go to war, brother?" Travis motioned to an extremely angry looking Jack.
"These assholes are messing with my money! Thats all I care about. Its not our first time dealing with bandits, Neo-American or otherwise."
Travis smiled. Jack tried to act like the calm and rational west coast guy among the crazy southerners but he had the rage and was quite capable at fighting, whether in a bar or
life or death. All the humans from vampire territories were tough and rather angry. Perfect for Fencing. When all was tried and failed and when it could no longer be avoided, every Fencemen was a fighter. A warrior. A killer. Destroying a Deader was not considered 'killing'. Killing was for your own kind, human kind. Vampires were a special case, blurring the line.
"Rebels versus Damn Yankees..this battle will never end. But you are in our territory! Like always you are gonna get the worst of it!" Travis snarled.
Then he said not a word. The three formulated a quick ambush plan.
Laurel shot into the woods like a shot, she would thin the herd non lethally a bit and then lead the others into the open area to be picked off by Travis.
However she could sense two of the scouts were hemavores and thus quite dangerous. She would try to take them out first if possible.
Jack got on his silent bike. He was going to come in on the flank and use his poison and explosive harpoons, made special to deal with the still living.
Plus he had something for the other walking corpses that made life a living hell. Special oak harpoon/stakes for hemavores. Jack really wanted a shot at
None of these scouts could be allowed to escape. They were trying to buy time for their Fence brothers and sisters, not defend New Orleans.
This made it easier but also harder.
"Well everyday for a Fencemen is another gift. We had a good life. Still would like some more money, though." With that Jack turned on his electronic bike
and peeled off into the swamp.
Forty miles North,
A tall figure was silhouetted by the flames of burning settlements. Sounds of random gunfire and screaming in the background did not move the man from his
position. The fire seemed to be telling him things and reflected in his eyes, matching the fire within that grew from an ember into a raging inferno. He walked forward
and tore the old flag from the window it had been hanging from. The flag of evil or at least one of them. Thought eradicated before the Darkness Dawn era, it had returned
with a vengeance after the unholy break up of America. That tragic day, when the devil himself threw the children out of their New Jerusalem.
The Shining City on the Hill. Hope betrayed and changed into a wasteland.
The commander tore the hated battle flag of the old confederacy apart with his powerful hands, no easy feat.
He turned to his soldiers in the middle of executing the last of the settlements inhabitants. His deep voice rising above the cacophony with ease.
"Kill them all! Kill the Demons! Let the light of righteousness cast them into darkness for eternity!"
"Whoah, this guy. There is something about him.." A Neo American soldier was in awe just as he blew the brains out of his third prisoner, an older man.
"Yeah. I would march into hell and back for him." A female Neo American nearly giggled. She would not waste her precious ammunition on these backwoods
troglodytes. Her preferred method was beating fascists to death with an axe handle.
The two Neo American sub commanders watched arms folded from their main battle command truck. Captain Sammie Devine and captain Marjorie Winslow. The Leather clad transexual strategist and muscular lesbian platoon leader made a formidable pair, both partners and rivals in one.
"We have some good new recruits. Hope they last a while." Sammie smiled. Some of the new recruits were cute and she/he
looked forward to their 'personal' training.
"The main battle is yet to come. This is nothing. More like a test to see who has it and who does not. Speaking of which.." Marjorie motioned with her functional eye
to some development a hundred yards towards the center of the settlement.
One young Neo American soldier was quarreling with his comrades. Captain Marjorie walked over with a casual stride, like a jaguar stalking prey.
"Whats this, now?" She demanded of the two male soldiers pushing and grabbing a third who resisted.
"He won't follow orders, ma'am. Simple and plain. We got a traitor!" One of the soldiers, blood drenched, saluted.
"Well, is this true soldier?" Marjorie looked at the man, one of the newest recruits. Some starving kid who needed a job.
"I..I..I didn't sign up for this..I..I wanted to recreate and reclaim the Empire..but.." The soldier seemed almost in tears. Weak.
"So did you not think that reclaiming the promised land would not be earned with the blood of martyrs?" Marjorie raised the eyebrow of her eye.
"Our sacrifice yes, but not this..slaughter..this is.."
Before he could finish his sentence, Marjorie pulled out a derringer and shot the young man point blank in his head. His body dropped instantly, brains leaking.
"Yes, your sacrifice. Exactly." With that she turned and walked back to the command vehicle, issuing a command to the other two soldiers. "Use him for Deader bait."
"Ma'am!" The two saluted and then turned and picked up the dead traitor.
"Such strict standards, tsk, tsk. I would hate to have to take orders from you." Sammie said with a smile.
Marjorie closed her eye and leaned against the truck again.
"My men, my rules. I hope he wasn't one of the ones you wanted to 'train' later."
"No, he wasn't. He was one of those devout christian holy types. Just more Deader chow." Sammie sighed.
Both captains then saw their commander walk towards the vehicle. The two saluted at attention.
"Commander Jefferson, sir! What are your further instructions?"
"At ease, ladies. This settlement of racist scum had been eradicated. Its a good day. Our people have a lot to be proud of."
Commander Jefferson then looked over at one of the newest recruits. Looking back towards his captains he asked for their assessment.
"How is he doing?"
"Private Shan is learning fast, he shows a lot of promise." Sammie said almost nervously.
"Sir I have not seen him shoot or kill anyone yet. He is a good shot, being a Fencemen but I don't think he is quite warm to our cause." Marjorie said
matter of factly.
Commander Jefferson walked over to Private Shan. The young man looked nervous as well.
"So, private Shan. We spare your life and allow you to renew your status as an American, but you won't do what we ask of you?"
"Hey, man..err.. Sir. I fought. I took part in the assault. What, you want me to execute people? Maybe they want to join us?"
Shan was trying to come up with anything. His life had been a living nightmare the past two weeks since being 'pressed' into Neo-American service. These yankee motherfuckers were as crazy as they said and that transvestite dude scared him most of all! At night he prayed for Mamaloi Maudette to come rescue him from these psychos and bring him back to New Orleans. But she did not answer. Served him right for not paying his annual respects. I mean, she was a hemavore. Could she really be his great great grandmother? Wasn't there a statue of limitations on still living ancestors, vampire or no?
"I wan't you to follow my orders. Not for my sake but for the sake of justice and equality. Liberty and Freedom. You do like those things, don't you private Shan?"
Commander Jefferson's grey blue eyes seemed to bore into Shan.
"Good, then you won't mind the mop up..There are a few left to be executed. You will have that honor."
Commander Jefferson then turned and walked off into the night, flames licking the shadows. No Deaders in sight, they left the fences up to the east for a reason.
"Oh man, I..can't do this shit."
Captain Sammie walked over to him.
"You can do it soldier. If you don't I have to shoot you. Survival, Shan. Survival. I know you southerners understand that. I don't want to kill so much either, but orders are orders. If it means bringing back America, it's worth it."
Shan began to sweat. He was no softie, he had killed a man in New Orleans for trying to steal his bike. It wasn't squeamishness. But Shan was a man, killing helpless people was wrong, not to mention southerners for the benefits of yankees.
"This is fucked up.." Shan muttered.
"Yes, yes it is." Sammie had a sad look on his/her face.
Shan prayed to the saints for forgiveness and then went on with his unwilling grim business..
To Be Continued