Fiction Friday: The Mongers, Part 4

The Mongers, Part 4

The rest of the day went well. Butch was actually surprised at some of the things people would bring him to trade. Things that had been extremely valuable in the old world, but were frivolous luxuries now. Nobody even argued when he was sadly forced to offer a low price for a grandfather’s watch, or a great grandmother’s cameo.  

Finally, as the last customer was walking away, seemingly pleased with his transaction, Butch gave the signal to start packing up. At this point, they were like a well oiled machine. Each man knew exactly what to do. The whole operation was completed within a matter of minutes.

By the time they were done, the two waitresses who had served them their pie and beer were standing nearby, watching them. The moment they were done, they approached Gut and Bear. Soon, the four of them were talking and laughing together. Soon after that, they broke up into two couples and wandered away. Butch smiled to himself as he watched them go, then remembered he had a date himself.

“You guys good here?” He asked Rat and Nutcase.  

“We’ve got this.” Nutcase said. Rat gave him a thumbs up, unable to talk due to the screwdriver he was holding in his teeth as he tinkered with whatever new contraption he was working on.

“Good. I’ll check back in later. I’ve got… uh.”

“Have fun, Boss.” Nut told him with a knowing smile, saving him from actually having to say where he was going. He turned and walked away quickly before his men could see his reddening cheeks.

Butch didn’t actually know where he was supposed to meet Melanie. He began wandering around the school, hoping he’d bump into her. As he explored, he discovered where the peaches for the cobbler had come from. The school’s old football field had been turned into an orchard. In it were hundreds of trees heavy with various fruits. He marveled at the lush forest here in the middle of the barren desert, wondering how they kept everything watered. The areas between the trees were filled with what Butch at first took to be undergrowth, until he realized that these plants too were bursting with produce.  

He continued his self-guided tour, finally coming to the old auto shop. There were no vehicles in it, of course, but it still seemed to have all the tools. Butch was wondering if they’d be allowed to pull their vehicles in so Rat could perform some much needed maintenance when there was a tap on his shoulder. It was so unexpected, he actually jumped. When he wheeled around, he was surprised to see Melanie’s smiling face.

“Hey, Sugar. Happy to see me?”

Butch realized that his hands were clenched into fists and quickly released them.

“Sorry. You surprised me.” He said, a bit sheepishly.

“It’s okay. Are ya’ ready for dinner?”

He felt his stomach rumble at the thought of food.

“Lead the way.” He said.

Her room was small, but she’d done what she could to make it look as little like a classroom as she could. Brightly colored fabrics adorned the walls. A few ripped posters, relics of the old world, hung here and there. Butch noticed that there were two beds in the room.

“My roommate’s.” She said, catching him looking at it. “Don’t worry. I convinced her to stay with a friend tonight.”

Butch smiled, unsure of what to say. He’d gotten used to women being forward with him. In this new world filled with widely dispersed small villages, strangers were always popular with the ladies. Still, Melanie seemed braver than most.

His stomach rumbled again.

“Oh my. You are hungry. Have a seat, I’ll go get dinner.” She said, and flitted out of the room.

Butch sat in the folding chair facing the door. The battered folding table was a bit wobbly, but sturdy enough, he supposed.

With nothing better to do, he let his eyes roam the room. It took some effort to resist the urge to snoop. It wasn’t anything malicious, he was just curious. Still, he knew the best way to wreck what was about to happen was to have her come back and find him looking through her things.  

Before long, she was back, carrying two covered plates which she placed on the table. When she removed the covers, he was greeted by a sort of stir fry with lots of vegetables and some sort of meat. He didn’t ask what kind. Sometimes, it was something normal, but others, it was better not to know.

He was about to dig in, when she stopped him. She turned and bent down into a wooden chest, deliberately giving him a view he didn’t mind at all. When she stood back up, she was holding a bottle of wine and a corkscrew.

“I don’t have any glasses. I hope you don’t mind.” She said, uncorking the wine.

“It won’t be the first time I’ve had to drink right out of the bottle.”

“Let’s just hope it’s not vinegar.” She said, handing him the bottle.

He looked at the bottle, as if he had any clue. The label was singed and he couldn’t read the winery’s name, but he could make out the year. 1977. Of course, he had no way of knowing if it was a good year or not. He took a tentative sniff before upending the bottle and taking a swig. It tasted good. Decadent almost. He wondered if he’d have been able to afford it in the old world.

He passed the bottle back to her.

“Well, dig in.” She said, taking a sip of the wine herself.

He didn’t have to be asked twice. He took his first bite.

“This is really good. You cooked this yourself?”

It was her turn to look sheepish.

“Oh, heavens no. You wouldn’t want to eat anything I cooked. I just stole it from the dining hall.”

“That’s okay. It’s still good.” He said, diving in.

Before long, his plate was empty. She was still picking at her food. Butch assumed she was trying to keep up appearances, but he knew better than to encourage her to eat. He reached for the wine bottle, but set it back down when he realized it was empty. Without a word, she retrieved another. This one had no label, but was still just as tasty. He leaned back in his chair, wishing for a cigarette. She smiled at him.

“So tell me. Have you always been a bad-ass biker?”

Butch couldn’t help but laugh heartily at that one.

“Not even close.”

“Okay then, what did you do before?”

“Well, let me ask you this. Do you know what the word monger means?”

“Well, sort of. I mean I’ve heard of warmongers. I assumed it was something related to that.”

“It means peddler. A salesman. We were all in sales of some sort. Gut and Bear worked at a motorcycle dealership. Bear actually sold me my first bike. Nutcase, he was one of those crazy guys you see on T.V. who smashes stuff while he yells about his insane deals. Rat was his assistant. The one who fixed things when people brought them back broken, which they often did.”

”What about you?”

“I owned a bookstore. I loved that place until the day it burned down.” Butch grimaced as he tried to push away the memory. “It started as a joke. When we all started riding together in our suburban motorcycle club, mongers sounded tough if you didn’t know what it meant. After everything happened, we decided to go with it and stick to what we knew best. Selling things.”

Melanie laughed at this. Getting up to retrieve another bottle of wine. It was only then that he realized he’d finished the second one. He vaguely wondered how many bottles she had stashed in her chest.

The conversation flowed as freely as the wine until Melanie stood up. He half expected her to tell him she was turning in and that he should go, but instead, she wordlessly took him by the hand and led him to her bed.

The next morning, Butch woke as the sun was just peeking above the horizon. His head ached from the wine, but not too bad. Melanie was still asleep. He considered waking her, but decided to let her sleep. Instead, he slipped out of bed, got dressed, and made his way to the courtyard.

Gut, bear, and Rat stood together in a knot, mumbling to each other.

“Mornin’, boys. Isn’t it a fine day?”

The three of them turned to look at him, their faces pale, even Rat’s. It was only then that butch looked up at the empty courtyard. Something was missing, but it took Butch a moment to realize what it was.  

The truck was gone.

So that’s it for this week, but remember, if you just can’t wait to find out what happens next, part 5 is already up on my Patreon page. It’s only a dollar for early access to this story for the whole month. More perks, like exclusive short stories, are available if you’re willing to pay a little more.

Don’t forget to stalk me online.

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Check me out on Facebook

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You can now help support my writing on Patreon

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

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Fiction Friday: The Mongers, Part 4. Now On Patreon

Part 4 is now on my Patreon page. It’s only a dollar for the whole month. Check it out here.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/21424192

Or wait a week, and I’ll post it here. I could really use the support.

Fiction Friday: The Mongers, Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

By the time the rest of them had showered and showed up at the courtyard, Nutcase had already begun setting up shop. He’d already set up the tables and had begun laying out merchandise. The old RV awning they’d attached to the side of the truck had been unfurled. Guns and other assorted weapons lay neatly arranged on a table between the main shop area and the truck where customers would have to ask to see them. On the table in front stood several ammo cans of loose ammunition in various calibers. Also on the table were various trinkets and baubles they’d rescued from the wastes. Various clothing items hung from the awning’s supports.

Each item had a meaningless dollar amount attached to it. Dollars hadn’t been a thing since the apocalypse, but Butch had found that the easiest system was to appraise whatever their customers brought to trade with a dollar amount and then give them the worthless scraps of paper which had once been money which they could then exchange for goods and services. Not only did it streamline the process, it gave their customers a sense of normalcy in this abnormal world which put them at ease and made them more pliable. They loved the farce of buying things with actual money even if the money had no real value except at their shop.

Without having to be told, Gut and Bear grabbed their rifles from the back of the truck and took up their posts at either side of the table. Not that they figured they’d have a problem with this lot, but it paid to keep up appearances.

Butch was the main dealmaker with Nutcase filling in when Butch was busy or replenishing stock as it was needed. Rat’s table stood off to the side with his toolkit and a banner offering “Repairs and Modifications”.

By the time they were open for business, the residents of the school were standing in the early morning shadows eyeing them curiously, but afraid to be the first ones to approach.

Butch nodded to Nut, who dashed into the truck. Moments later, the hatch clanged open and Nutcase clambered out of it and stood atop the truck. He took a deep breath and launched into his pitch.

“Step right up, folks. Don’t be shy. You won’t find better deals anywhere in the wastes. If we can’t make a deal, I’ll throw myself off the top of this truck.”

As if to prove he was serious, Nutcase then ran the length of the truck’s roof and jumped high in the air, executing a perfect front flip before landing on the edge of the roof and tottering precariously for a moment before reversing it with a backflip and landing on the center of the roof.

Butch smiled to himself as the enraptured crowd first gasped, then clapped and cheered. He didn’t need to watch Nut’s antics. He’d seen them all before. In a moment, Nut would do another flip down through the hatch and onto his bed which was positioned below the hatch. Even as he thought it, he heard another gasp from the crowd accompanied by a thump from inside the truck followed by more cheers and applause as Nut emerged from the back of the truck unscathed.

“Good job, Nut. You really roped ‘em in today.” Butch said.

“Thanks, Boss. I still think it would be more effective if I had a monkey or a tiger or something.”

Butch sighed. They’d been through this countless times before.

“A tiger would be out of the question, but if we ever run into a monkey, I’ll get him for you.” Butch said.

“Deal.” Nut said excitedly.

The crowd approached the makeshift shop. First they wanted to talk to Nutcase and shake his hand, but even as they did, Butch could see that most of them were carrying bundles which undoubtedly contained whatever they felt they could part with in exchange for more useful items.

As soon as they had finished talking to Nut, they began to line up in front of Butch to reveal their treasures. Most of it was useless junk, but Butch did his best to give them a fair price. As Butch did his appraising, Nut climbed back onto the top of the truck and began shouting for their most wanted items. Of course ammunition and ammunition components were at the top of the list as always.

“Live ammo, brass casings, primers, and unirradiated lead, weapons parts. Even broken parts may be useful. If you have any of these things, just bring ‘em to my buddy Rat at the repairs table and he’ll treat you right.”

Once more than a few people had cash in hand, Nut once again jumped from the top of the truck and began making deals. Butch joined him as soon as he was done with appraisals. As usual, the weapons and ammo were the biggest draw. Butch couldn’t blame them considering he’d already seen how much trouble they seemed to have from raiders. Almost as popular as the weapons was the food. Still, there was a good amount of interest in things like clothing and even jewelry.

Butch saw a feminine hand reach out to stroke a silver necklace studded with emeralds. He looked up from his wares into Melanie’s bright green eyes.

“Good morning, Star Dancer.” Butch said with a grin.

She returned it with one of her own. Hers with a touch of mischief in it.

“Figured it out, did you. What took you so long?”

“Well, I hardly expected to run into an actual celebrity out here in the wastes.”

“I was hardly a celebrity.”

“Besides, you look a bit… different.”

“Well. It’s not easy finding good makeup in a post-apocalyptic world. Speaking of which, I’m surprised a man such as yourself watched beauty videos. Something you’re not telling the rest of your gang?”

Butch felt his cheeks reddening.

“My niece used to watch you. I had no choice but to watch with her.”

What he would never tell her, what he would, in fact, take to his grave, was that while it was true he had watch one of her videos with his niece the first time, he had looked her up and watched the rest of her videos on his own afterward.

“So, do you like the necklace?” Butch asked, changing the subject.

“I do, but I need something a bit more practical.”

“Such as?”

“Protection. I need a gun.”

“I have just the thing.” Butch said, wheeling around to the weapons table.

Moments later, Butch slapped a small piece of metal into her palm. He could immediately see the disappointment in her eyes as the looked at the pearl handled derringer. Butch had to admit, it looked tiny even in her small hand.

“Really? I was hoping for something a bit bigger. I guess it’ll have to do though. Especially since this is all I have to trade.” She said, unveiling the small jewelry box. “It was my grandmother’s.”

Butch eyed the jewelry box. There was nothing special about it. In fact, he had left identical boxes behind out in the wastes, most of which had been in better condition. Still, he had always been a sucker for a pretty face. He took back the derringer and swapped it for a snub nosed .38 special.

“I’m afraid this is the best I can do.” He said, handing her the revolver. “Straight up trade.”

She hefted it in her hand and her smile brightened.

“Are you sure? This has got to be more valuable than my old jewelry box.”

Butch looked over his shoulder to make sure none of his companions were paying attention.

“It’s good to be the boss.” He said with a wink as he reached into the can which held the .38 ammo and gave her a handful of cartridges.

Her eyes widened.

“So when are you guys leaving?”

“I’m not sure. It usually takes Rat a few days to finish his orders.”

“Good.” She said. “How about letting me cook you dinner tonight as a way of saying thanks.”

“I’d like that.”

“Then it’s a date.” She said with a smile a she turned on her heel and walked away with that wiggly walk of hers.

Butch wondered once again if it was for his benefit, or if that was just the way she walked. He shook his head, remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

“Next!” he shouted.

.     .    .

Okay. That’s it for this week. I’m still not sure exactly where this story’s going, but I’m starting to get an idea. I hope you enjoyed it. I’ll see you next week with another what’s up Wednesday.

Until then…

Don’t forget to stalk me online.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

On Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr

You can now help support my writing on Patreon

And, of course, please buy my debut short story, Blood Moon

You can find my Amazon influencer page here.  https://www.amazon.com/shop/justinmkellywriter

And my blog on Steemit. If you really want to help me out, go there and drop a like or a comment. I get paid if you do and it doesn’t cost you anything.

Flash Fiction Friday Number 4: Reymir’s Savior

Welcome to another Flash Fiction Friday. On a Saturday. Apologies. The time got away from me yesterday. So since we’re already running late, let’s get into it. Shall we?

What I have for you today is actually a prequel to my Children Of Pyrelia series. So far, Bloodmoon is the only published part, but it will soon be followed by Daughters of the Flame.

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Reymir’s Savior

Reymir wandered down the dirt road that ran through his village, dwelling on his misfortunes. There were almost too many to count. He had always been the fat kid. Other kids made fun of him mercilessly. Girls were out of the question. His father was an abusive addict, but nevertheless was a village elder, so nobody would speak out against him. And then there was Bearok.

“Hey fat boy. Do you have to take up the whole road?” A voice came from behind him.

“What?” He said, turning around. He had been so engrossed in his myriad miseries that the surprise of being torn from them made it come out sounding more angry than he had intended. As if summoned by Reymir’s mere thoughts, he found himself face to face with Bearok, his constant tormentor.

Bearok’s face registered surprise for a flash of a moment before returning to his default sneer as Reymir cowered before him.

“I said you’re in my way, fat ass.” Bearok said, pushing him to the ground.

Reymir curled into a ball on the ground, covering his head in anticipation of the beating to come. His years of experience with his father’s temper had trained him for this. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for his mother to come and rescue him. An odd thing for him to do since she had died giving birth to him. His father had implied on numerous occasions that it was his size, even then,  that had killed her.

Reymir waited for the first punch to land, but it never did. He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched. The hand didn’t hurt. It gently squeezed his shoulder. He cautiously opened his eye, just in case it was some sort of trick.

It wasn’t Bearok at all. It was Terek, the son of the chieftain. He extended a hand to help Reymir up from the dirt. Reymir looked around and saw Bearok standing a few feet away, holding his nose and hate burning in his eyes. As Reymir watched, blood began to seep between his fingers.

Bearok mumbled something unintelligible but clearly threatening before running away. Terek helped Reymir to his feet.

“You okay?” Terek asked, genuine concern on his face.

“Yeah. He just pushed me.”

“Well if he ever touches you again, come get me. I’ll handle him.”

Reymir nodded and immediately made himself a promise. If Terek were ever in trouble, he’d make sure he was nearby to help. He owed his savior that much.

.     .     .

And that’s it. I wrote this story in part to satisfy a friend who wanted a little more backstory on Terek and Reymir. I hope you enjoyed it. As I said earlier, part two in the series is coming soon.

I’ll see you on Monday with an update on what I’m reading.

As always, be sure to stalk me online. Also, I hate to beg, but I’m really trying to reach 100 subscribers on my YouTube channel, so please check it out and, if you like what you see, subscribe.

www.justinmkelly.com

Check me out on Facebook

On Twitter @JustinMKelly1

My Amazon page, in case you want to read more

And on Goodreads

And on YouTube

I also post a copy of this blog on Tumblr