Chapter 17

Finally, after things settled down and after a lot of thought, Clipper took Girl and Dylan on a long overnight trip around the mountain. He really didn’t have any idea why he chose the route he did, he just kind of made it up as he went along. He packed the gold pans and the fishing rods, just in case, and he carried the AK while Dylan carried the AR.

They practiced ways of moving through the forest where they weren’t all in a bunch, to break up targets. Clipper was working on hand signals and bird calls, too, to be able to communicate effectively and quietly at a distance. He did not want to be caught by bad guys, again. That was now his number one priority.

They had made it maybe three quarters of the way around the mountain, when far off in the distance on the next mountain over Clipper saw the mine. Once again, with no idea why, he changed their course.

Relatively soon, they descended down into the valley between the two mountains and then came back up. A day later, after a nerve-wracking outdoors camp-out, they came to the mine. It was a strip mine and it was huge. Damn near half the mountain was bare, with new, young trees just starting to creep back in to the mined area. Clipper wondered what they had been mining. Gold? For some reason he didn’t think so. Gold didn’t seem heavy enough in this area for mining on this scale. And the scale was huge.

Several miles away he spotted some building and machines. Just because it was interesting to him, and for something to show the kids, he headed that way. Plus, no telling what they might find. The whole place looked deserted.

A few miles later they stood on the outskirts of what was basically a small town. Sheet metal buildings were all around, with offices and huge warehouse-looking buildings where he figured the machines were worked on.

In the central open area, surrounded by buildings, stood some massive machines. Clipper recognized a few bucket-wheel excavators and lots of smaller backhoes and excavators, from massive sized to cute little baby ones. And, of course, lots of dump trucks.

He realized quickly that this was a surface coal mine, judging by the loads still in some of the trucks. He could even smell coal smoke, in the air. Shit, he realized. Somebody was burning coal. That meant somebody was here. He wondered if it was mine representatives, if the mine was still active in any way, or just simple somebody keeping an eye on it, for the owners. It was either that, or squatters. Really, he thought, a mine wouldn’t be a bad place to move into and take over. Plenty of warmth for the winter ahead, at least.

They walked down the row of silent buildings. At the end was a truly massive building, with giant doors halfway open. He could see a few small machines inside, and one incredibly huge bucket excavator, partially inside. The machine was four or five hundred feet long, he guessed. It was a big building.

They went through the doors and went inside. Inside, against the far wall, was a stack of office buildings, halfway up the wall. The smell of burning coal was strong inside and Clipper had just opened his mouth to suggest they leave when he saw a figure standing in a doorway.

He nodded towards the guy, and Girl and Dylan saw him too. Dylan slowly, casually lifted the M4 from his back, and Clipper lifted the AK a little higher, placing his hand on the trigger assembly.

The figure in the door waved at them, and then started down a staircase, seemingly unafraid by their subtle show of force.

Clipper looked at Girl, and motioned her behind him. He kept an eye on the wall of buildings, for any more people to show up. Was it just this one guy?

“I’ll watch your back...” he said, in a low voice.

“And I’ll watch yours.” Said Girl. They waited for the man to approach. The guy got to the bottom of the stairs, and headed towards them.

Guy? Man? It was a kid, Clipper thought, as the figure drew close. Maybe mid teens. He didn’t appear to be armed, not even knives or primitive weapons. He seemed fearless, coming right up to them, and stopping maybe ten feet away. Jeezus, thought Clipper. He’s still got pimples. He’s just a kid.

The kid was gaunt, not starvation gaunt, just really skinny. He had long brown hair, which stood up in several spikes. Huge green eyes. A little pug nose. What Clipper had thought were tattoos on his neck and arms now looked like Magic Marker or Sharpie tattoos. Definitely homemade.

“Howdy,” said Clipper.

“Howdy,” said the kid. Girl and Dylan just nodded.

“Sorry to bother you,” said Clipper. “We didn’t know anyone lived here. We were just out hunting, and saw the mine. Thought we’d stop by.” Girl suddenly grabbed Clipper’s sleeve and tugged on it. He glanced at her to see her half turned, looking behind him. He figured someone was coming up, from behind.

“It’s cool,” said the kid. He motioned behind them, smiling. Clipper turned and looked, and his heart stopped. Behind them, a huge crowd had assembled in complete silence. Kids, mostly. Completely. He was shocked, both at the silent stealth with which they’d assembled, and their age. None of them looked to be over twenty. All of them seemed to be armed, whether just sticks or shovels, and a few even held axes. Shit, he thought. Girl had been watching his back, and she’d tried to warn him. He needed to remember to tell her thanks. Assuming they got out of this alive.

He turned back, and licked his lips. “Seriously. We mean you no harm. We are just visitors, passing through.”

Jeezus, he thought. His mind raced. He looked at Girl for a second, and saw fear on her face. He was sure that a little showed on his, as well. These kids had them. There must have been a hundred of them, at least. They didn’t even have that many bullets on them, at the moment. Not that he planned on shooting kids.

“You guys all live here?” he asked, and the kid nodded.

“Yeah, some of us been here a while. And some are new.”

“You from Skipps?” Clipper asked.

“Most of the new ones are. I’m not,” the kid said.

“So you guys live here then. Lots of coal? Other supplies?”

“Yeah, but nothing to give away,” the kid said.

“We’re not looking to take. Just wondered how you all made it. That’s a lot of mouths to feed.”

“We still have some food in the cafeteria. And we hunt. We have two bows. We need a rifle, though,” the kid said, looking pointedly at Clipper’s AK.

Clipper was silent. He wasn’t going to just say, here, have mine. He felt for these kids, though, trying to survive out here on their own. He wondered why there weren’t at least a few adults helping them.

“What you got to trade?” Dylan said, taking the initiative.

The kid thought a moment. He finally said, “coal,” with a laugh. “Lots of diesel. A little gasoline, though it may be sour. Lots of hand tools, tons of them, literally. Oxygen tanks and masks. A half dozen generators, both gas and diesel. Building supplies. Lots of work clothes. Stuff you work a mine with ... that kind of stuff.”

“Clipper. Can we talk?” Dylan asked, and Clipper nodded. He looked back at the kid. “Give us a moment, okay?”

The kid nodded. “Sure. Take your time. We ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Clipper. Could we use anything they have?”

“Hell yeah,” Clipper said. “Coal would be nice to burn, though it’d be a bitch getting it home in any quantity. We could use a few tools, if they’ll let us pick them out. And the folks in Devonsville could probably use gas or diesel, or better yet one of those generators.”

“Clipper. We only got thirty rounds in the AK, at the moment, right?” Clipper nodded. Dylan went on. “If they want a gun, that’d be the one to give them. Enough bullets to hunt with, assuming one of them can handle a gun, but not enough to let them to take over the mountain or anything.”

Clipper agreed. He hated to lose the AK, though. It was the ultimate defense weapon.

“Clip. Just loan them the AK, or rent it to them,” Girl said. That was a good idea, Clipper thought.

“Yeah,” said Dylan. He nodded at Girl. “Good idea.”

“Okay,” said Clipper. “We rent them the AK, for a load of coal, some tools, and maybe some stuff for the town, like a generator. And let’s see if they got a truck, in working order, to deliver the coal. They got diesel, probably? From all these machines?”

“Probably,” said Dylan.

Clipper turned back to the kid that seemed to be in charge. The kid was waiting expectantly. Clipper pulled the AK off his back, pulled the clip, and slid the round in the chamber out. He handed the gun to the kid, who took it gingerly.

“Okay,” said Clipper. “We will ... give you an open-ended lease on this gun, for a dump-truck load of coal, some tools, and maybe a generator. We don’t need the generator, but the town near us might want it. Does that sound fair?”

“Hell yeah,” said the kid. That seemed like a pretty one-sided trade, but the kid obviously knew the value of a gun in today’s economy, Clipper thought. The kid motioned to somebody in the crowd behind them, and a large kid stepped forward, and took the AK. He examined it carefully, getting the first kid to hold the bolt open while he looked down the bore, even. He nodded, and took the gun. Clipper put the bullet in the clip and handed it to him. The kid disappeared back into the crowd behind them. Remember that, Clipper told himself, there’s a gun at your back, now. He looked at Dylan, who nodded, still facing the crowd of kids, loosely holding the M4. He trusted Dylan. More and more, though, he trusted these kids, too.