End of Women: Part Two

Lockdown

Wilkes tapped his fingers on his desk slowly. 

Four men stood opposite him, tall and grim-looking. Their faces were half-covered with leather masks and they wore gloves of the same material. It amused him how quickly vigilante gangs seemed to invent their own dress code and language.

'Where is she now?'

'In the truck,' the eldest answered, taking a step forward, 'we passed judgement last night. Our council is certain.'

'Your council...' Wilkes clucked his tongue and smiled in spite of himself, 'we never sanctioned any such council.'

'We're well aware of that.' He inclined his head to show his greying temples. 'Our organisation is not linked with yours. It would have been much easier for us to carry out the sentence ourselves. This is a gesture we hope will establish a strong relationship between the Arrowhead Society and Bluenorth.'

Arrowhead Society. Wilkes had to chuckle to himself now. Whatever things they might have in common, a love of subtlety was not among them. 

'Shailene Lucille.' Wilkes scratched his unshaven face and pressed up a half-curious mug. 'Not exactly Millie Slate.'

'Its a feminist that has been rallying against you for weeks. I didn't think I would have to convince you of her value.'

Wilkes blinked twice at the old man.

'Who are you again?'

'Chairman Rathers.'

Wilkes ignored the title and thought back to the files he had drawn up just before the Arrowheads' arrival.

'Robert, if you don't mind. I thank you for bringing me the girl, and will deal with her in my own way. What you expect in return is-'

'Only your recognition of us, our organisation and a promise not to interfere with our judicial process during this time of transition.'

The other three nodded and murmured in agreement. So that's what they wanted. A free reign. Total immunity. Why they thought he could give them such a thing was more than he could say. 

'Fine. I don't speak for the police, or for that matter-'

'We know you have contacts in the White House. We know they go pretty high. How else did you get away with any of this?'

'I dislike being interrupted. I especially like being interrupted twice.'

Rathers stared at him. He didn't say anything more but the set in his face had not changed. 

'Very well,' Wilkes breathed heavily, 'bring her in and talk to the Commander. Set it up in the yard.'

The Arrowheads filed out with a few short thanks. Wilkes was glad to be rid of them. Even if he was glad to have Shailene - whether he admitted it or not, she had been on his list - he had no desire to make these vigilantes feel welcome. What they do without encouragement was enough to make him nervous. With his backing they could tear down the entire operation and start the war before he was ready for it. Women he could deal with, but men on a mission was something he had not considered. Not at this stage, at least.

Deek bumbled into his office with arms full of extremely unappealing-looking paperwork. Wilkes groaned.

'Sorry, Sir, but this just can't wait. We have over a million requests from customers eager to get onto the waiting list, and then you need to sign these expense reports-'

'Do I have to put you in charge of this place before I can get some peace?!'

Deek clamped his tongue and faced the floor, eyes like snooker balls. Wilkes let out a sigh and patted the young man on his shoulder.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.'

Deek mumbled its fine and sat down. Wilkes pulled up a seat next to him.

'Actually, I'm not so sure I didn't mean it. You could run this place, you know. One day you probably will.'

'That's very kind of you, Sir.'

'I never actually asked you to call me that.'

'I know, Sir. And don't worry about all this. Everything will be fine when Degan gets back, you know how he is with business matters. A lot better than you are!... I'm sorry, no offence meant, Sir.'

'None taken,' said Wilkes, and he meant it, 'you're right. Wherever Degan is, he had better work out where he wants to be pretty damn fast.'

'Where... Sir, I thought you said he was in Aruba?'

Wilkes met Deek's eyes for a moment and then forced a smile.

'Yes, sure. Sure, what am I saying. Hey, do you wanna see something?'

'What?'

'Have the commander assemble all the girls in the yard.'

The air was clear and fresh when Wilkes stepped out onto the platform overlooking the five-acre space enclosed by high grey concrete walls that was the yard. Inside were hundreds of thousands of naked and vaglocked women, chained into lines and packed like sardines. In front of them was a newly constructed invert of wood and metal; the compound gallows.

Deek stood beside him, transfixed by the scene. All was quiet, eerily so for the mass of bodies present. Along the walls were guards carrying sniper rifles and assault weapons, an unecessary show of force in Wilkes' opinion. Alongside him on his left was the Commander.

'Have her brought up.' said Wilkes.

The Commander disappeared and began barking orders. Wilkes placed his hands on the cold metal railing and leant forward. He heard so little, just a cough and a whisper. They were motionless as mannequins. Had they learned already?

Their silence was broken as Shailene was dragged up the flight of wooden steps towards the gallows. She wrestled with the guard that carried her, swore and screamed at everyone she could sense around her. When they whipped off her hood and she saw the huge crowd of women watching her voice went flat.

'Oh God...' he heard her say.

'Listen up!' Wilkes yelled, hearing his voice echo back to him. Every one of their tiny faces turned to him, 'The woman brought before you today is Shailene Lucille. Her actions, which have also cost the lives of many other women, will now result in her death. This is a lesson which you must learn; defiance is not intelligent. You cannot fight back because if you do, you are fighting against reason. Against the truth. The truth is that you belong in here, and not out there. Women who defy this truth belong nowhere, and they will become nothing.'

A huge lumbering boulder of a man dressed in an Arrowhead uniform (or whatever they called it) made his way up the steps of the gallows with a rope noose in his right hand. Lucille immediately threw herself away from him, pounding her feet against the woodwork as the guard held her by the wrists, struggling to grapple her back under control. The huge man took her by the neck and picked her up like a rag-doll, slung the noose around her throat and dropped her, holding the rope in his right hand. She dangled in his grip, grasping at the rope and gasping for air as he suspended her before the crowd. The sounds of her choking and wretching carried back and forth, over the hundreds of thousands of them, and still they made no noise. Soon Shailene stopped kicking and the huge man threw her body down on the dais.

'You have only two choices,' Wilkes barked at them, 'to obey, or to die.'