![]() Then it would basically be a game of chicken, seeing if they cared about the people fed by my (theoretical) ability to keep the factory running. But I could always say they threatened me. It was a fair point, especially how it was implying that I’d have to back them up on whatever story they made up or be in trouble. But now, if we get pulled over, we’ve got a bunch of witnesses saying got in willingly.” “But if we got caught,” a nerdy-looking black man said, “you would just say we kidnapped you. “If it had just been me,” I said, “it would have worked.” “Let me guess: Marines? Law enforcement?” The man looked surprised for a second, then returned to his stony silence. “This is puttin’ me on edge,” Eliza said.Ī burly white man who was about my age, maybe a little older, and sporting a buzz cut responded, “My plan was to shove a bag over your head and force you into the van, ma’am.” A few moments later, the engine started up and the van began moving. In front, I heard the driver’s door open, then slam shut. Four of the civilians followed us in and shut the door. It was set up for cargo, so there were no seats or windows and the view to the front was blocked off. I began walking and Eliza grudgingly followed. She was in her fifties and had an anarchist symbol tattooed on her chest right beneath her collar bone.Įliza gave me a look that just screamed “this is not a good idea and you should feel stupid.” I shrugged. “Get in the van.” One of the people dressed like civilians said this. “These ladies and gentlemen would like you to meet someone. “There’s a five-minute window,” one of the cops said, an elderly black man. It wasn’t surprising that the cops were armed, but underneath the weathered clothes, the civilians had bulges or clothes pulled down in odd ways. A small group of cops and better-fed civilians had surrounded us. ![]() The man looked at me for a while, a cold expression on his face. ![]() “I’m sorry, but my girlfriend just got out and is making me quit the booze.” Everyone was suffering from malnutrition, and judging by the man’s straw-like hair and flaking skin, he was no exception. If you ate nothing but birthday cake (minus the icing,) you would probably end up fat. One of the few remaining reliable source of food was cake mix. The guy running it was extremely chubby, but that didn’t fool me. “Trust me, voluntary confinement in a big building isn’t much better than involuntary confinement in a small room.” “You’re only saying that because you’ve only been in there a few days,” I said. A few of the reconstituted cops and Dragon’s Teeth soldiers walked around, making sure none of the stalls made out of rubble were being looted. “Nate,” Eliza said as we walked through the bombed out buildings of Worcester, “You sure this is a good idea?”Īround us, dozens of people walked milled in an open-air market.
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