The Last Gallon
The last gallon
Birth of the UCA
William E. Belanger
©2012-2013
ISBN
978-0-9850163-2-6
Print
978-0-9850163-3-3
E-Book
Cover Art by Carl K. Olson Jr. (6guns)
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Chapter 5- Welcome to Boston Laddie!
Chapter 10- Dinner is escaping
Chapter 11- District of Corruption
Chapter 13- Off the beaten path
Chapter 15- Badlands welcoming committee
Chapter 23- Little Rock, Zeta territory
Chapter 25- The Jonesboro Massacre
Glossary- (In order of appearance)
This book is dedicated to everyone who considers themselves a patriot. It is for those who believe that this country is worth fighting for and is something that must be kept alive for the good of the entire planet. It is for those who have fought and died in the name of our great nation and those who will fight for her in the future. May the republic stand forever.
“You are on your own.” Those words never had as much meaning as they did that night. When the President called it quits live on TV it didn’t take long for every remaining thread of normalcy to fall apart. Phones were down within minutes, power was cut,
and riots broke out all over the country and the rest of the world. The 60% unemployment rate meant that a lot of people had spare time. In that spare time many of them had taken up shooting and learning survival skills. They got the opportunity to practice pretty steadily in the coming months.
The 2
nd
Civil War lasted 2 years. It wasn’t an organized affair like the first one, in fact, nobody was really sure who or what they were fighting for. It was more or less a means to get frustrations out and settle petty differences. The only positive that came out of the war was the extreme decrease in population made the unemployment rate tumble.
The United States of pre-2016 is no more. There are no states and there is no Union. The country is largely what is now known as “
Bad Lands.” This used to mean rough terrain but it now more universally represents land that you do not want to find yourself in for any extended period of time. Large gangs control sections of land and they do pretty much whatever they want. This usually means you pay a handsome toll to pass through their territory. Tolls can be as simple as a large sum of currency or commodities or as complex as your virginity or one of your loved ones in trade. The consequences are often so brutal that the thought of handing off your daughter to a gang of blood-thirsty and horny thugs becomes the most pleasant alternative.
Cities still dot the landscape and they are more or less safe-havens. All cities are owned and operated by a major corporation. Greed and thirst for power are very much alive and well in the new world and major corporations often wage actual wars with each other for power and control. People who live in the cities work for the companies and are generally slaves or at best serfs for their mighty kingdom. The city can fire you at any time without any reason and you will suddenly find yourself in the Bad Lands with only the clothes on your back, if you are lucky enough to have them.
The people who live in cities live in relative luxury compared to the rest of the country. The price that has to be paid is one of having absolutely no pride in oneself. The company can require anything they please of you. One day you may be a hired assassin, the next day you are a prostitute. Only those who hold higher positions within the company have any kind of stability. Having a family is usually reserved for the management class because they don’t have to worry about their young children being pressed into service. You are free to do as you please but don’t even think about saying no when they come for your loved ones. Those that disobey meet fates worse than those who cross the Bad Lands gangs.
The world collapse
came out of nowhere to those who weren’t paying attention in late 2016. Everything was looking good and the economy was recovering at a seemingly record rate. The bubble burst for a second time and this time there was nothing that could stop the entire structure from collapsing. Large corporations folded overnight and the world woke up without a job.
Idle hands cause trouble and the people took to the streets. They protested anything and everything and would yell and scream at anyone who would listen. What the rabble didn’t realize is that everything was so far out of control that no amount of whining was going to fix it.
The new administration tried to get things under control. Unfortunately, like many forest fires, one spark lit off the powder keg that was America. The timing was right and the winds were perfect. Revolution had begun.
The Second Revolutionary War was fast and swift. The people were not organized and the government still was. Gun
s were abundant but nobody had cruise missiles and drones in their militias. The government pounded the opposition into the stone ages and God help you if you lived in a city occupied by a militia. B-52s were brought out of mothballs and carpet bombed Jacksonville FL with napalm. It is said there are still parts of the earth burning down there. Memphis was demolished by nukes once it was determined the militia had massive quantities of ricin and a deployment system that would devastate Washington DC.
The battles had their toll on the government and armed forces
as well. It is hard to level a town you were born in and in early 2018 a mutiny began on the governmental level. This was how the 2
nd
Civil War rolled straight into the 2
nd
Revolutionary War. Defining the two was semantics, the battles were equally bloody. The first two years were more rioting, looting, and feuding while the second half was organized military versus militia action. Several towns were ordered to be razed and it just so happened that many of these divisions were manned by people from the towns. They resisted and eventually revolted.
The people briefly had the upper-hand. With the government split and fighting amongst themselves with some serious weaponry, the militias that were remaining suddenly had power. Instead of using this to their advantage they ended up battling each other for control of petty
resources.
When the
Vice-President and his shaky puppet government threw in the towel 2 months later the remaining states that had experienced relative peace were thrown into war. East Coast cities had tried to trundle along and were setting about creating new trade routes with the new European Union and Canada. When the dime dropped those dreams stopped and bustling cities became war zones.
Eventually wealthy leaders would emerge and influence people with their power and resources. The gas and oil giants took up in New York and Boston and proceeded to wall the cities in like enormous castles of old. Atlanta and
New Orleans became drug cartel havens. The corporations would trade resources with these cities to keep their citizens in check and slightly addicted but functional. Everyone had a vice and one of the few perks of living in the cities was free access to those vices.
Philadelphia became another gas and oil city and Washington DC soon fell under
Mechacorp’s control as well. Mid-west cities became farming fortresses and controlled the flow of food with an iron fist. Gasoline, drugs, and other commodities were traded for crops and animals. Several other cities became slavery centers where the management would just breed and sell its’ occupants to supply other cities with work-forces.
There were some small depot cities that had broad reaching powers as well. Coal facilities in West Virginia still supplied the coal needed to fire power plants that operated near or within almost all city limits. Some cities were lucky enough to have nuclear, wind, solar, and hydroelectric power and were not at the mercy of the small, but ruthless and powerful coal barons.
Outside of the major metro areas was nothing but bleak darkness. If you did not have solar or some kind of turbine of your own there was no electricity. Gas was scarce and usually obtained via raids or sometimes by trading with city corporations. Gangs would raid convoys and hold them ransom or slaughter the people and steal the goods. Sometimes they would enslave their captives and sell them or trade them for needed supplies.
The new economy had no real currency. Everything was on barter but your common goods did have a monetary unit attached to them. A gallon of gas was good for a meal, a small dose of drugs, or a mild sex act. A fully grown male slave could net a 55 gallon drum of gas, a cow, or a brick of low-end drugs. Of course the worth of each item completely depended on the customer’s needs.
It was a barbaric system but somehow it worked. Other than mild raids to try to take control of small aspects of business or disrupt another company the country had settled into a more or less daily routine.
T
he idea of heading 40 miles out of town became a multi-day affair full of gun-fights, explosions, and attempted rapes but the people were used to it and very few ventured out. Those that did need to go out did so with an arsenal at their disposal and an army under their control if they are smart.
Most business outside of the city was handled by couriers. They drove fast,
armored vehicles and delivered messages and goods to neighboring strongholds. The courier job was fast-paced, exciting, dangerous, and generally short-lived. It was a job reserved for the young and unattached though anyone could be pressed into service. You had to be quick, smart, and rugged to survive even a short trip.
Mark Stewart used to be a gas and oil pipeline engineer. He had worked his way up through the ranks of several oil companies and had finally settled on
ByzanCo before the bubble burst. He lived with his wife Kara and his son Joey near Albany NY.
When the world imploded the family retreated into the mountains and stayed largely out of sight for the better part of
4 years. Mark still wished he would have stayed up there in the mountains but he was fooled by MechaCorp’s propaganda.
The family had lived in an old cabin in the woods that Mark’s grandfather had built. Mark hunted for their food and Joey would help out by fishing one of the many creeks that were near the cabin. Kara grew a small garden and also had a knack for shooting birds with a pellet gun. All in all they lived a very simple and satisfying life.
Mark had ventured down the mountain one day in 2018 in hopes to pick up some much needed supplies and toiletries. He discovered that the world had pretty much ceased to exist as he knew it. At that point in time there was still some small-town life left and while perusing the empty shelves of a grocery store he noticed the ads plastered up everywhere for MechaCorp’s New York City operation. The posters promised “the good life” for anyone who had gas and oil experience and a “better life” for those who were willing to learn.
Mark didn’t realize that he was living the good life and what
MechaCorp was offering only applied to the scarecrows that were living on moldy bread and the flesh of their dead brethren out on the battlefields. He really didn’t know what life was like outside of the mountains but he bought into their lines and felt that he could do something positive again with his life.
He rushed back to the cabin and told Kara all about it.
To say she was tentative about the move was a complete understatement but she wanted Mark to be happy. He told her how he felt his talents were wasted out here. She tried to point to the water pipeline he had engineered and installed but he just wasn’t going to listen.
Their talk melted down into an argument and it ended when Mark said if she didn’t come he was going to go on without her. She didn’t want to be alone in the wild without him so she finally relented. They told Joey the news but he already knew, he had been spying the whole time. He was actually happy because the city meant girls and he had not seen one other than his mother for several years.
Mark knew he had made a big mistake when they reported to the recruiting office the next day. They were unceremoniously shoved into an over packed semi-truck and shipped into the city like cattle. Once in town the group was split between experienced and non-experienced people. They were about to force Kara and Joey into the non-experienced line but luckily someone had asked what Mark’s experience was and he was qualified enough to be allowed a family. As they were escorted into the interview room so Mark could prove his worth Kara punched him in his side and told him he was an idiot. He had to agree.
Mark woke up to the incessant buzzing of his alarm clock. “
Damnit” he cursed as he shut the annoying machine off. Another day, and for what? He thought. The job had not brought meaning to his life at all, it had turned it inside out. They were “well taken care of” by the company and kept constantly fed and clothed. They were also awarded to an addiction for their troubles. Mark was given a cocaine ration, Kara had to take pain pills and Joey had a hardcore caffeine addiction that immobilized him with headaches if he didn’t get his fix.
It was all part of the game. Working for the company was a rough life. Mark even had it good as he was part of “management” which meant that Kara didn’t have to be a concubine and Joey didn’t have to slave in the oil fields of the Middle East (yet). When he turned 18 in two years he was fair
game though Mark was secretly working on a way out for him.
Mark looked over at Kara and frowned. He felt awful for forcing her into this life. Her vibrant and beautiful-self had been morphed by a veil of depression. She hated taking the
pills but was a horrible person without them. She was still a beautiful woman but Mark knew the pain she was suffering. She was such a free spirit that being chained down like they now where just tortured her. He gently stroked her hair and longed for the days of their life in the cabin again.
Mark carefully removed the sheets so he could look at Kara. She slept naked and as he took in her form he felt the urge to jump in bed and ravage her. He knew he couldn’t because not only would it make him late there was a better chance that she would be pretty pissed about being forced awake at such an hour. He admired her curves and her curly red hair, gave her a pat on her butt and replaced the covers. He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead and proceeded to get ready for his day.
A shower, a shave and a line was how Mark got his days going. Most people would enjoy a cup of coffee but Mark preferred coke. It was his gift from the company. Everyone in the city was required to have an addiction, he happened to get a pretty high end one. He was glad for that and felt a little more important within the company after he found out that there were only 400 people in the city authorized to be addicted to cocaine. The reality was they just wanted to have the ability to overwork him that much more and could always slip him some extra to put some pep in his step.
Mark checked in on Joey before heading out the door. He was growing up so fast and was becoming a strong little man. He was 16 now and in only two years would have to perform his required duty on the rigs. Most boys came home with some sort of permanent disability due to the lack of training and need for safety measures. Mark had given thought to disabling him prior to being sent so he would have to stay home but he knew his fate would be sealed as a second class citizen if he did that.
Once a kid was 18 he was outside the parent’s bubble. Unless you were one of the 10 board members your kid was going to serve. If they were not worthy of serving overseas they would become servants or worse. He didn’t want to see his son mangled but he didn’t want to see him become a boy-servant to some pervert either. It was a lose-lose situation as almost everything in this bleak world turned out to be.
Mark took the elevator down to the lobby and exited the gate of the compound. There were a pile of bodies near the main gate left in the street to rot. “Looks like someone attacked last night” Mark said to himself and shook his head. Some of the
lower-level employees often revolted and attacked the management and upper management housing facilities. They were always dispatched by the guards and left on the street as an example. Eventually the trash service would pick up their rotting bodies and dump them in the land-fill outside of town. Fighting the company was a very stupid proposition and almost always led to death or exile.
All trains head into headquarters at this time of the morning so there is very little wait. Mark missed one but another was right behind it, so close he thought it was attached until the first one sped off. He jumped in and took his seat and proceeded to watch the drab world go by on his 5 minute ride.