New Birds

To Fight Another Day Part 36

Louis's watch was well over, but he lay awake, wide eyed, looking up into the dark, the flat roof of the trailer somewhere above him. One of the sofa springs annoyingly pushed into his shoulder and was competing now with his usual aches. Tilly wanted to wait another night. To make sure the town returned. She was now second guessing all that Bon had told them. Thinking now he had fed them a load of shit when he said the town were happy, new employees of the Anson Genetic Company. But Louis thought this was giving the soldier qualities he didn't possess. He didn't appear the type to fabricate a story just to alleviate their concerns for Smoke Junction, before killing them.

Chancy was on watch. His son slept soundly on one of the cots. Tilly was asleep on the other sofa. Her snores were even and loud. She had bunched a light pink shawl, most likely April's. into a ball to use as a pillow. Cameron had yet to return.

As the night went on, Louis picked up the sound of vehicles. An occasional shout of command. A squeal of brakes on tires. The sounds seemed to surround them. Some close and some distant. North, East, South, West. It was difficult to determine as he lay there in this steel contraption full of Chancy's memorabilia, but it all sounded like a fairly busy night out there. But if they came too near, Chancy would tell them.

He was regretting not taping a little of his winnings to his legs and abdomen before leaving the ark. But hell, he wasn't letting Brice, or his men find it on him and take his winnings. It may have been just as fool hardy to give his entire winnings to Farling, but at the time, it was his only other option as he saw it. He knew, no matter where he hid it on the ark, he was most likely never returning for it. There were still options for him and Tilly though. If they made it out of here. He could still round up some of his storks. Start over somewhere. But Tilly would find it much harder. She never knew anywhere but the ark. How she would grieve her trees and cranes. Perhaps, if he got her interested some in the show circuit. Convince her that there is hope and life out beyond her great grandfather's tall walls.

And Marshall and Samantha, what would become of them once found? He sighed and shifted again. Jason Anson had a lot to answer for in facilitating this monster coming west. But perhaps, Jason had already spent a lifetime answering for them. His original pact with this man, was most likely the reason he, himself, came west, as he tried distancing himself after selling his soul to this devil. Hoping New West and its laws would keep the likes of Brice Davies out. To forbid him entry. Which, up until this new administration, had done just that. But if it wasn't for Anson Genetics and their success with S.A.F.E. Food, this silver tongue devil would never have had their ears. How he just wanted to visit to help Jason chose a new production facility in this area, and how much of his capital he was willing to put towards it, in hopes of bringing this meat to the east. Or some such bullshit or another.

Meanwhile, Brice only truly wanted access to the area to discover what it was that Jason was keeping from him, which was the Ark. And he left a path of destruction in his wake just to show Jason who was in charge.

Still, Jason managed to keep the secret of the ark's water from him. At least thus far. His last remaining hold out against his partner and nemesis. His last hand to play if they didn't find Samantha, in hopes of keeping his daughter from Brice. But they would find Samantha. How could they not? The ark wasn't that big. Which meant it was only a matter of time before Davies knew all the secrets behind the success of vat meat. And with the ark's takeover, he would most likely put its production into overdrive. Louis sighed and turned again onto his back, the springs singing with his movement. And once the water was gone. What then? What did that mean for the ark. For Smoke Junction. For all those who are or will become dependent on this meat product. It was truly a hell of a mess.

* * *

Cameron stepped into the yard. The sun was rising behind him, splashing between the rocks, outlining him and his watch cap like an apparition. Three more steps and he was again in shadow, just his old tired self, his gun held dejectedly by his side.