Desperate Times Three - Revolution Page 2

  Jimmy gritted his teeth and quickly changed the subject. “So, what are you planning to do with the resort? That’s a big place for you guys to keep up.”

  “Yeah,” growled Ken. “Why the hell are you up here? There’s no work here.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve got big plans for this place. Those rich bastards are going to pay me mucho ameros to spend time up here. They got the bucks. Hell, they got all the ameros or bucks or whatever the hell you want to call money these days, and I plan on taking as much as I can from those thieving bastards. They stole it from us and it’s time to take some of it back. Don’t you guys ever forget how we were treated back in the camps! Which camp were you at, anyway?”

  “Fargo,” said Doc.

  “Right,” agreed Ken. “Fargo.”

  “Oh ya, Fargo,” Dundlemore said stupidly. “So, how do you guys feel about getting chipped? You can tell me; I ain’t going to tell anybody. I think its bullshit, that’s what I think. Trish doesn’t care, but I think those bastards just want to keep tabs on us. I hear that we all have to get one of those microchip thingies shot into our forearms or foreheads by the end of the year. What do ya think about that?”

  “We don’t like chips,” Ken said, staring hard at both Jimmy and Doc. “Do we?”

  “Hell, no,” Doc said. He suddenly sprang to his full height and began to pace in the firelight. “Chips? Don’t get me started on chips. Those dirty, rotten sons-a-bitches! I knew it would come to this. I warned people for years and years, vote out the damn incumbents. I told them that this was where we’d end up. I told people that we needed term limits! Did anyone listen? Hell no… Aw, shit!”

  Doc stomped away like a seven-foot storm cloud, and Dundlemore, his head lolling from side to side, turned to Ken. “The tall guy can’t handle his beer. You’d better cut him off.”

  “What else did they tell you about the chips?” asked Jimmy. “They didn’t tell us much about them over in Fargo.”

  “I didn’t know they had any camps in Fargo.”

  “Who wants another beer?” asked Ken, digging into the cooler.

  Dundlemore held out his hand. “Keep ‘em coming.”

  “Then keep talking. Tell us more about the ameros and the chips.”

  Mark Dundlemore took the beer and began to ramble on, drunkenly spinning one of the scariest stories that Jimmy had ever heard. Ameros were units programmed into the microchips that the government planned to implant in each of its citizens. Dundlemore went on to say that the chips could be used to track a person’s movements to within inches anywhere on the planet. “The Constitution is history, man,” he’d said, slurring the words so badly that Jimmy could barely understand them. “They now say that the laws are based on the Constitution. What the hell is that supposed to mean? They took our guns and then they stole our goddamn liberty. It just isn’t fair.”

  “What are the people doing?” Ken asked. “Why aren’t they fighting back?”

  “Man,” said Dundlemore, staring at Ken as if he’d just sprouted horns. “What rock have you been hiding under? Do you remember those Occupy people? Well, they’re back, and they’ve brought friends. The people are mad as hell, and they’ve gone back to doing what they did before the crash. They’re out in the streets with signs, and the police are kicking the shit outta them. Nothing’s really changed, man. They have no leader; that’s the problem. Nobody is crazy enough to stand up against the machine.”

  “I’d stand up to those bastards,” growled Ken.

  “What?” asked Dundlemore, leering at Ken with bloodshot eyes. “Are you going to run for president? Yeah, and monkeys might fly out of my butt.”

  “Somebody has to do it, dammit. Why couldn’t it be me?”

  “Because you’re a nobody and you don’t have any money. How many more reasons do you need?”

  Ken began to say something, but he thought better of it and stared into the fire with intensity. Jimmy watched as Ken’s face darkened with despair each time Dundlemore opened his mouth. Corporate America was still alive and well and had continued to operate during the crisis with the help of slave labor. Jimmy covered his face as Dundlemore droned on and on. “You know what I think?” he whispered, looking over his shoulder drunkenly. “I think we’re being taken over. Those rich sons-a-bitches are taking over the whole goddamn world. That’s what I think. I think they planned this whole thing out.” He belched and rubbed the back of his sleeve across his mouth.

  Finally, mercifully, Mark Dundlemore passed out in his lawn chair. He still held a tight grip on his precious can of beer and began to snore so loud that Jimmy had to move closer to Ken so they could discuss what they’d just heard. The moonless sky was now glittering with a billion stars above them. Tonight they made Jimmy feel small and insignificant.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Ken said.

  “What’s going to happen to us?”

  “I don’t want to think about that right now. Honestly, I think we’re screwed, kid. Even if we get back to our homes, how the hell are we supposed to survive? Son of a bitch! How the hell did we let them get away with it? They probably planned this for decades, and we continued to reelect the bastards. What a crock of shit.”

  Jimmy took a stick and stoked the embers of the dying fire. “Do you think the Democrats were responsible for this mess?”

  “I think both sides have been conspiring with those corporate pukes to do this for a long time. We were played, kid. Right, left, it was all a smokescreen to hide the fact that they wanted to take our country from us. They sold us out, that’s what they did. I’m sure of it. They ran our beautiful country into the ground and we stood by and watched. Hell, we’re almost as guilty as they are.”

  Jimmy took a long pull on his lukewarm beer. Reality was setting in and the fear was growing in the pit of his stomach. “What about the bird flu? Aren’t we going to have to be inoculated or something?”

  “If we live that long,” Ken mumbled. “I don’t think we’re going to be welcomed back into the fold with open arms. I hope I’m wrong, but I doubt it.”

  Jimmy would remember those haunting words for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 3

  “The old days were the old days. And they were great days. But now is now.” ~ Don Rickles

  Jimmy woke that morning at just before five to the quiet humming of the generator and the distant sound of someone filling the basement woodstove. The morning air was so crisp that he nearly crawled back in bed before getting dressed. Last night’s beer had caused both Ken and him to forget to load the stove, and they would pay for that mistake for hours. Jimmy put on a sweatshirt and pulled a hoodie over that, thinking that the temperature inside the house must have dipped somewhere into the forties.

  Jimmy poured himself a cup of coffee and stared out the window into the inky blackness of the morning. The basement door was open, and he could hear Ken mumbling curses to himself as he snapped twigs and sticks to kindle the fire.

  The magnitude of yesterday’s events suddenly hit him, and he sat down at the table to think about things. He thought about what Dundlemore had told them and tried to imagine what that meant to rest of them. The world had changed and there was no doubting that. Somewhere inside of him, Jimmy had been expecting that all along. There would be a bill to pay, and the price would be high.

  Jimmy heard Ken close the door to the woodstove followed by heavy footsteps as he climbed the basement stairs. Ken nodded to Jimmy as he entered the kitchen and made his way to the coffee pot. “That was stupid,” he grumbled. “Remind me not to trust you with the fire.”

  Jimmy shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Ken’s eyes were bleary, and he wore an old stocking cap and his faded bathrobe. “Nice hat,” he said. “It really brings out the color in your eyes.”

  “I feel like shit. I can’t do that anymore.”

  Jimmy nodded. Despite everything that had happened yesterday and all that had been said, there had been a subdued sense of celebratio
n in the air. The world was finally returning to normal, or at least as close to normal as they would ever know again. Ken poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across the table from Jimmy. Steam rose from their cups in the frigid morning air.

  “You hungry?” Ken asked.

  “Not really. How about you? I could fix you some pancakes.”

  “Nah, I couldn’t eat a thing. I’m too worked up about what that asshole said last night. What the hell are we going to do?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t know. I suppose we’re going to have to go back sometime and see if there’s anything left for us. The way Dundlemore was talking, there’s a free-for-all going on out there, and you had probably better get back to Crown and claim what’s yours.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. What are we supposed to do when we get back? Should we come clean and get it over with? Like it or not, we’re going to have to follow the herd and let those bastards have their way with us. You know, I knew this would happen. This shit didn’t just happen. They’ve been planning it for a long time. It’s all about control, kid. Still, we can’t stay here forever. Like it or not, we’re going to have to get with the times.”

  They continued to discuss the matter in hushed voices as the sky turned to gray, and finally orange light streamed in the kitchen windows. They were on their third pot of coffee before Doc joined them. Doc said nothing as he filled himself a cup and sat down at the table. He didn’t need to speak; his dark expression spoke for him.

  “How did you sleep?” Ken finally asked, breaking the silence.

  Doc scratched his beard and shook his head. “Not too good,” he said. “Damn, it’s cold in here. Have you checked the fire?”

  Ken smiled. “Give it time. You should have been up an hour ago. That was cold.”

  “Did someone forget to do their job last night?” Doc asked, looking directly at Jimmy.

  Jimmy bristled at the accusation. Things had been strained between the two of them ever since Doc and Paula had become a couple. “I guess nobody thought of it,” he said. “There’s nothing to loading a woodstove. I’m sure I could teach you how to do it.”

  “Oh, please,” grumbled Doc. “Give it a rest, Jimmy. We’ve got a serious situation here, and there just isn’t time right now for your petty jealousy.” He turned to Ken. “What the hell are we going to do? We can’t stay here forever.”

  “We were just talking about that,” Ken said, glumly. “What’s your take on all of this? Do you think Dundlemore might have been making some of that shit up? That sounded pretty far-fetched. I don’t know if I trust the guy...”

  “I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him,” Doc said. “He made a pass at Paula last night, and I want to bust him in the chops.”

  “What a guy,” said Ken.

  You’d better get used to it, Jimmy thought to himself wryly. “I don’t think he’s smart enough to have made all of that up. I think he actually believes what he said. Maybe things aren’t as bad as he made them out to be?”

  “And maybe they’re worse,” Doc replied ominously.

  Patty suddenly entered the kitchen and stared at the three men as if she had never seen them before. Jimmy felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs as he caught sight of her. The look in her face was one of complete delirium and her mouth hung open in a silent scream.

  “Patty!” exclaimed Ken.

  “Let’s get her back to bed,” ordered Doc. “Jimmy, get out on the porch and grab my bag!”

  Jimmy didn’t have to be asked twice and bolted past Patty without a word.

  Jimmy stood on the deck and watched the large RV roll past the open gate as it crept across the gravel over to the lodge. Mark Dundlemore and his brood were over there, and Jimmy watched as they dropped what they were doing to welcome the newcomers. Ken and Doc were still attending to Patty, and Julie was washing clothes out back in the washtub. Cindy and Paula stepped outside to join him.

  “Look at that thing,” said Cindy. “Wow, somebody has some serious money.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Ameros,” he corrected. “Yeah, that’s one helluva rig.”

  Paula said nothing as she stood with them. Jimmy avoided her as much as possible, but now that she and Doc had become an item, he found her to be slightly more tolerable. She was dressed in tight jeans and wore a low-cut blouse under a white sweater. Jimmy watched her as she stood on her tiptoes to get a view of the scene below.

  “Do you know that guy?” he asked.

  Paula turned and frowned. “Get serious, Jimmy. How the hell would I know who that is?”

  “I don’t know, I was only asking.”

  “There goes the neighborhood,” quipped Cindy. “I’m going inside to sit with my dad.”

  Jimmy nodded as Cindy turned and went back inside the house. “How is Bill today?” he asked Paula, turning away from her. “I haven’t been in there yet.”

  “He’s wiped out. Doc shot him full of morphine when he started complaining this morning. He’ll probably be out of it until dinnertime. Let’s take a walk down. I want to see the new people.”

  Jimmy’s initial thought was no, but he didn’t see any harm in going down to meet the new arrivals. “Sure,” he said, drawing a surprised expression from Paula.

  “You see,” she said, smiling at him for the first time in nearly a year. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Jimmy shook his head and turned to walk down the steps. He didn’t trust her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get the wrong idea. They were simply walking down to meet the neighbors. That was all.

  Paula followed him as he walked down the driveway and out the gate. The morning was clear, and the day promised to be one of the warmest yet in an unusually early spring. The lawn was already green in spots, and the air smelled faintly of fresh flowers. Paula stepped next to Jimmy and smiled at him seductively. “You’ve still got a great ass,” she said.

  “Knock it off.”

  “I was just making conversation. Don’t get all weird on me. Look at that thing; it’s as big as a house.”

  “That’s why they call them motorhomes.”

  “Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

  Jimmy only smiled and shook his head. Paula returned the smile, and they continued walking. Jimmy could now see the driver of the rig, and he was much younger than Jimmy had expected. He had always associated these big motorhomes with retirees, but the man who stepped out of the driver’s seat looked as if he were still in his twenties.

  “He’s kinda cute,” Paula whispered.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” Jimmy whispered back to her. “You’ve already got a boyfriend.”

  “I don’t see any ring on my finger. I can do whatever the hell I want.”

  They locked eyes for a moment, and Jimmy saw Paula for what seemed like the first time. Poor Doc, Jimmy thought. Doc had fallen madly in love with this woman, and she had been playing him for a sucker all along. Doc had cut his hair; he’d trimmed and colored his beard and was now working out two hours each day. He had devoted himself to her, and Jimmy had never seen him happier. All of that was about to change; Jimmy was somehow sure of it.

  “Look, Nate,” Mark Dundlemore said as he pumped the hand of the new guy. “This is Jimmy and his friend Paula. They live next door.”

  The young man smiled at them, but Jimmy could see that his eyes weren’t on him. “Nate Vetter,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”

  “What a beautiful motorhome you have,” gushed Paula. “I just love it.”

  Jimmy stepped forward and shook Vetter’s hand. “Jimmy Logan,” he said. “This is Paula Peterson.”

  “You sure got a good-lookin’ woman,” Vetter replied, still eyeballing Paula’s exposed cleavage. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “We’re not together,” Paula quickly interjected. “We used to be, but Jimmy found someone else.”

  “Really?” Vetter asked.

  “And so did she,” Jimmy said. “Paula has a boyfrie
nd, and he’s next door. He’s a doctor. You should come on over after you get settled and meet everyone. Paula and I just wanted to come over and introduce ourselves.”

  “Jimmy, I can speak for myself. So, Nate, where is the rest of your crew?”

  “What crew? I’m up here all by myself.”

  “Yep,” Dundlemore said, stepping between them as his family went back to whatever it was that they had been doing. “Nate’s dad and I were pretty close. I said that we’d look out for him. Nate used to be a builder. New home construction, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right,” Vetter said, turning to face the lodge. “And it looks like I have my work cut out for me. How bad is it in there? That place looks pretty shabby.”

  “It’s not as bad as it looks. Take a walk around; I’ve got to get back to Trish. She’s got a bug up her ass today, and I’d better not piss her off. Maybe Paula would be nice enough to show you the cabins? They stretch out all the way to the end of the bay. Go ahead and claim one.”

  “Paula?” Vetter asked with a leer. “Would you be so kind as to give me the tour?”

  “I don’t know,” Paula said, turning to Jimmy. “as long as he doesn’t go running back to report me to Doc. You wouldn’t do that, would you, Jimmy?”

  Jimmy narrowed his eyes and waved them off. “What you do is none of my business. Just don’t be gone too long. I don’t want Doc to get worried. If he asks where you are, I’m not going to lie for you.”

  “Nobody asked you to lie, dude,” Vetter said, with a distinct hint of challenge in his voice.