Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors Part 9

She snuffed. "Don't you think it's a little stupid to keep going?"

"What do you mean? We've got Chewy." He scratched the dog behind the ears.

"Let me rephrase that. Don't you think you're a little stupid to keep going?"

"To travel without the truck would be suicide."

"And this isn't?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm less worried now than I was before."

"Well, that answers my question. You are stupid."

"Hardly. Odds are in our favor now. Every single time we've run into a Super Smart Bear, everything has been okay."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Doesn't it?"

"That makes less sense."

"Look, Super Smart Bears are feared for their aggressiveness. I always heard that once provoked they were all but unstoppable. That apparently isn't the case."

"It's still crazy. Surely there's more than one."

"I don't doubt it. Now they know that we're coming. And, if they're so smart, they're waiting right at the end of the trail."

"You're not selling me on this idea."

"They can wait at the end. We've got a new trail to follow." He pulled back the reeds in front of him. Bright crimson marked the path of the fleeing bear.

TWELVE.

Logan had left the children pulling apart strands of cable. He had made a joke about teta.n.u.s that they didn't understand, and went to find the town's gadget man.

The mayor had not described him. No one had told him the man's name. Regardless, Logan knew whom to look for. Whether he was tall or short, the man would be round and a little grizzled. The man in charge of keeping the town running would have a lame sense of humor and a personality that many tolerated only because he maintained the machinery and invented things that the people needed most: water pumps, steam engines, and more. If not for these vital skills, the gadget man of any post-apocalyptic town would be friendless and, more than likely, left in the wilderness.

Logan found Carl Parker chatting to several men. Each had one foot out of the conversation waiting for the short round man to take a breath so they could excuse themselves. They had been waiting for a while.

Carl was regaling them with a series of jokes about the difference between men and women when Logan interrupted.

"Are you the gadget man?"

Carl turned to Logan and smiled.

The crowd scattered, each tossing a weak excuse over the shoulder as they moved away. The men split. Each went a separate direction as if they were being pursued by an axe murderer or the forces of the undead and were trying to lose their hunters.

"Howdy, stranger. Do you know the difference between men and women?"

Logan did and the answer was, "v.a.g.i.n.as."

"Well, yeah but that's ..."

"Are you the gadget man?"

Carl's round face lit up, he stood a little taller, which wasn't much because he was barely five foot five. "Around here they call me the Gadgeteer."

Carl pulled a four-pound sledge from his belt and held it triumphantly above his head. His grease rag rippled like a cape from his back pocket.

"The Gadgeteer. Really?"

"No," Carl sheathed the sledge, dug the oily rag out of his pocket and began to wipe his hands and forehead. Nothing was wiped away; the rag just added grease to his hands and forehead. "I've asked them to. They say the decision is stuck in committee. But, if you're asking if I'm the one who keeps this town running, well, yes, that's me. Mechanic, electrician, plumber, engineer, and umpire for the New Hope kickball league."

Pivoting like a Weeble, he turned and began to walk across Town Square. Motioning with the oily rag, his tone changed from one of pride to one that was much more b.i.t.c.hy.

Logan followed.

"Yeah, I'm the gadget man, not that you'd know it if you looked in my shop. I don't have two wrenches to turn together. And the people they send me ..." Carl shook his head. "Everyone is sent in rotation, so just the time I've got them trained, they leave."

They reached the open hood of a small blue and white pickup. Carl pulled a wrench from his tool belt and buried his head in the engine compartment.

"I tell you, that Murphy is a sonofab.i.t.c.h."

"Which one was Murphy?"

Carl laughed loud and hard at Logan's remark. It was an irritating laugh that sounded like it belonged in the front row of a laugh track. Still, the mechanic was genuine. The round man reached up and slapped Logan on the shoulder with an oil-covered hand.

"No, Murphy the lawyer."

Logan's confusion showed on his face.

"My friend, I'm talking about Murphy's Law that says s.h.i.t's gonna happen."

Logan nodded. This was the town's gadget man. He took another greasy slap on the shoulder, and watched Carl dive back under the hood to tend to the pickup's engine.

Metal clattered, tools clanged, but there was no end to the chatting. Carl continued the conversation with Logan, while simultaneously cursing the engine.

"So, now you know who I am ... sonofab.i.t.c.h ... stranger. And, I know who you are ... little t.u.r.d. You're the ... mother humper ... man who's gonna save New Hope ... you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. The man with the Mustang."

For a moment Logan considered closing the hood and walking away. But he needed this man's help. "I'm going to do my best."

"And, I'm guessing ... little beggar ... that you're going to need something from me ... filthy wh.o.r.e."

"I can come back."

Carl's head popped out of the truck's hood, somehow even dirtier. "Why?"

"You seem to be busy."

"No, it's all right. Keep talking. I've just got a nut stuck."

Before Logan could continue, Carl reached out and slapped him again as he began to laugh.

"Sounds like a personal problem! Right?"

Logan could only nod and hope that the mechanic would stick his head back in the truck.

"I know, I know, TMI, TMI, too much information," Carl laughed again and attacked the nut with more vigor. The truck shook, the laughter echoed in the compartment.

"You're right," Logan tried to talk over the laughing, swearing, and clanging. "I need your help reinforcing the gate."

"Well, I only designed it to keep the animals out. We can ... c.r.a.p ... always weld some more steel on it ... rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Put a few more inches between us ... that's what she said ... and the bad guys, dammit."

"I had another idea."

"Oh yeah? What's that ... little b.i.t.c.h?"

Logan knocked on the hood, "I hope that was directed at your nuts."

Carl emerged again, "Come again?"

"That comment."

Carl didn't look any brighter when he was confused. He replayed the conversation in his head and it dawned on him, "Oh, no no no, no, no. Yes, I was swearing at my nuts."

Logan shook his head, knowing what to expect.

Carl slapped him on the arm-Logan thought he might be starting to bruise-and laughed louder than before. It took him a moment to catch his breath, and still, he chuckled.

"TMI! TMI! Huh? Ha-ha. What's your idea?"

"I came across an old cement truck, maybe ten miles down the road. It had a hardened load in the back ..."

Carl smiled and was about to speak. Logan hurried on before the mechanic could interrupt.

"A little plating and it would make solid gate ... if you could get it running."

"When you said hardened load, I was going to say ..."

Logan held up his hand. Carl stopped. Logan smiled and said, "If we go right now, I'll even call you Gadgeteer."

Carl smiled, pulled the sledge from his belt and began tapping it in the palm of his hand. "Let's go get her."

Across the plains and down a hill, they followed the trail of blood left behind by the super intelligent bear to a tree line.

It had made no attempt to cover its tracks as it fled back to its home. The trio dashed through the brush following snapped reeds and the crimson drops.

The nomad held the shotgun high, ready to fire at the first sight of fur. So far, they had encountered no other bears on the trail.

The growth had led to the edge of a forest. He peered into the trees and saw no movement, but he did see his motor coach. The Silver Lining rocked back and forth.

"So, this is where the Teddy Bears have their picnic," he said under his breath and was glad no one had heard him, because right after he said it, he felt stupid.

Chewy growled. Jerry turned quickly to hush the dog. Too quickly. His left foot slid in a patch of mud. Grabbing a tree for support, he caught himself and examined his footing. It wasn't mud.

"s.h.i.t." He tried to sc.r.a.pe his boot clean in the gra.s.s. "I guess the answer is ... they don't always."

He turned his attention back to the motor coach and its surroundings. He could see no other bears. Their cave must have been deeper into the forest. If the others were there it could work to his advantage.

"What are you going to do, d.i.c.k?" She never delivered the nickname as anything but an insult.

"I'm going to watch for a while and when the sun goes down, I'm going to get my home back. Then we'll drive it out of here."

"Won't it be difficult to see?"

"In the dark? Yes, but all the bears will be asleep."

"Aren't bears nocturnal?"

He was silent for a moment. "What? No."

"Are you sure? I think they're nocturnal."

"I never saw a nature doc.u.mentary of a grizzly night fishing. They aren't nocturnal." It was the end of the discussion. Until it wasn't.

"What about all the dangerous animal shows that played night vision video of bears raiding trash cans and dumpsters?"

"Uh," he had seen those. "That's different."

"How?"

He didn't know. "It just is. Nature doc.u.mentaries are way more reliable than TBS specials."

She remained silent.

"Look, who do you trust to know more about bears, Marlin Perkins or Vegas's Robert Urich?" he explained.

"I just think it would be best to go down there now instead of when you can't see. You could sneak in. Chances are they're trying to get your food and they're distracted. You'll have them cornered."

"First of all, do you have any idea how stupid that is? Sneak up on bears? Corner bears? Second of all, blood is almost impossible to get out of the upholstery. Theirs or mine. No, thanks. I'll wait for them to get bored and go home."

"Whatever, d.i.c.k. It's your precious truck. Besides, I thought you were some great warrior, but I guess you just wear the clothes." She put her back to a tree and crossed her arms.