Calico

Calico

Population:

146

The chill bit at Marley’s nose.

The desert is a cold place. A clean place, but a cold place. Especially during a funeral.

The old brown Ranger jacket defended her against the chill, but her nose was left in the icy wind. A quick rub with her small hands turned the stiffness into a flood of warmth; tears may come later, and Marley’s father, who had given her the old brown Ranger jacket, said “never cry in the wind.” Especially during a funeral; tears will come later.

The chill was interrupted by an occasional roll of thunder. Might be a gully-washer tonight, thought Marley. She was smart for her age, and agile, at least for a ten-year-old. She even knew chess. Sometimes, she cursed. She may curse later, but not here; the whole town was here this dark afternoon.

Marley sat on a rocky ledge, overlooking the burial of Ancil J. Brekken, the township’s resident Sheriff and beloved leader of the D.P.S. The Division of Public Safety themselves were standing on the cliffs above, hats off, paying homage to their beloved sheriff. The eighteen members remained motionless, save for one- Noah Brekken.

A shrill cry pierced the chill and thunder. Noah sat cross-legged by the coffin of his brother, slamming a fist on the hard top of the casket. Marley nearly cursed; she had never seen so much as a smile or sneer from Noah in the entire two years she’d known him and was certain he was made of stone. The Brekken Brothers and the Division of Public Safety had kept the small speck of civilization alive during the past two years. Marley personally had seen Noah, with his razor-sharp hatchet, kill at least a hundred zombies; plus many humans- two of ’em right in front of Marley. The pair or Norwegians were inseparable, until now. Every eye was on Noah. Each member of the town had their own feelings about the large man. Some were even scared of him.

Marley wasn’t. It was Noah who saved her life. In the early days of Calico, two men from a cycle-gang tried to rape the young girl, but two well-placed bullets from Noah’s pistol ended the attempt. Noah simply picked Marley up, dusted her off, and then dug two graves.

Thud! Noah slammed his fist again against the hard grain of the wooden coffin, as if he wanted to beat a hole into the wood to see his brother one last time. Tears ran down the man’s stubble. His short, wavy brown hair danced about in the wind. The township leader, an older man named Flynn, stepped toward with a shovel in hand. Noah whispered.

“Leave the shovel.”

Flynn stopped, nodded, and stuck the shovel into the earth. He turned around and addressed the town.

“Let us go back into town. The clouds are coming in. Citizens of Calico, my friends, my family, we have all lost a brother today. A good man. A great man. Ancil Brekken was our sheriff, a peacekeeper, and we bury him with all the love we can give, to a man who gave his love and soul to this town. Goodbye, brother.”

A low “goodbye, brother” resonated from the town. From the Water Division, to the cafeteria workers; from the Division of Agriculture to the baker and his apprentice, every man and woman in the crowd bowed their heads in appreciation and respect. Then, the mass slowly dispersed. Marley felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She turned and was greeting by the friendly, warm smile of Dani, a tattooed punk-rocker woman who headed the Division of the Interior.

“Come on, kiddo.”

Marley loved Dani. They were almost the same height; Dani was tiny, under five foot, but acted twelve feet tall. Her bulldog tenacity got her on the Council of Nine, the governing branch who ran the township. Dani even had Elvish tattooed on her body, and being a nerd, suggested the term “council of nine” for a name of Calico’s government. Flynn and the rest agreed. So the Council was born.

Divisions came later. There were five divisions for the existence of the town; Water, Agriculture, Interior, Medicine, and Public Safety. There were also numerous sub-divisions, with some directors pulling double-duty. These few individuals that aspired to make what was left of the world a better place made up the Council of Nine.

“The Remembrance Party is at the saloon tonight, remember?” Dani said, nudging Marley, “wanna play some chess?”

“Sure.” Marley wiped her tears with her sleeve. Dani hugged her and gave her shoulders a good squeeze. They stood up and walked with the rest of the people toward the main center of the town. The cemetery, or Boot Hill, was a medium sized-hill located further down from the central part of Calico. Past Boot Hill lay the crops and fields that fed the town, and beyond that was the highway, then desert.

Nothingness. The Outer World.

Marley gave one last look at Noah before exiting the cemetery. She felt a great sorrow for Noah, as she couldn’t imagine the loss of a brother. Just a father and mother. Marley gripped Dani’s hand as she walked with her, with Dani returning the lovingly grasp. Marley was the township’s resident “orphan”; Dani looked after Marley like she was her own kiddo. They hiked down the rocky cliffs of the Calico Mountains together.

The township of Calico lay in the Rainbow Basin of a southern California valley. The valley was flanked by Pickhandle Pass at the south entrance and Jackhammer Gap, a narrow canyon at the northern end of the mountains. A large jutting peak dubbed “the Shark Fin” shadowed the canyon; piles of cars and trucks walled off the exit to the rocky enclosure. It took the Division of the Interior two months, but after using a dozen industrial forklifts scrounged from nearby lumber yards, Dani and her builders created a twenty-two foot tall medieval wall of crushed automobiles at both ends of the valley. They also cleared the main part of the highway and erected an interior wall that encircled the central part of town. Marley dubbed that the “Alamo” wall.

The main section of town was nestled comfortably against the Calico Mountains, with the community spread throughout parts of the long, sandy valley. The D.P.S. would have riders stationed at both entrances to the valley, ready to raise the alarm if a threat was present. One sound that would send a shiver down Marley’s spine was the loud buzz of the approaching 150cc motors on the D.P.S.’s motorbikes; it meant trouble was coming.

The congregation moved up Main Street to the Shiloh Saloon, where the welcoming glow of the stone fireplace would greet the town’s citizens, offering them a frothy warm beer and a story to tell.

The Remembrance Party would start soon.

Marley loved those, but it was a bittersweet occasion. After the passing of Calico citizen the township would bury the departed and proceed to the Shiloh, where drinks and dinner would be served, then a toast; music and dancing would follow, as Calico did have some fine guitar players in its population. Traditions are what the town lived for. Flynn said traditions are the glue of the community, yet this was the first time the town left the cemetery before the body was in the earth.

Marley hurried faster toward the Shiloh, letting go of Dani’s hand.

“Another for the departed!”

A hundred glasses and mugs clinked together simultaneously, followed by a split-second lull of quiet sipping. Dani, sitting in the corner of the room with her Interior friends, sipped her water.

She hadn’t drunk a single drop of alcohol since the First Day; since the day they all had met. The day after the world collapsed. The day after the mushroom cloud appeared. That day. The First Day.

Dani figured the world was worth fighting for. Her attitude was, “this is what we have left. Let’s make it work.” A true punk-rocker, Dani was all heart. The Interior gang loved her, and her voice was listened to on the Council. Before that Day, she had been a bartender and cosplayer- nothing special. Now she was a Director.

Queen to b6. Check.

On the chess board in front of her, Dani moved her piece into position, ready to mate Marley on the next move. Marley, focusing intently, had no other options. She tipped her king and they exchanged handshakes. Dani would never let Marley win; when Marley taught herself to beat Dani, then she would have a straight-up win, and not a false victory. That would give her a genuine feeling of accomplishment.

“Good game, kiddo.”

From her corner booth Dani observed the room. With Marley sitting next to her, she saw Members of the Town Band were setting up drums and tuning guitars, getting ready to pluck the night away. Flynn leaned against the long oak bar, chatting with Remy, the second-in-command of the D.P.S. Remy’s muscular build towered over Flynn’s head.

“Going after a new sheriff already, Flynn?” Dani thought to herself. Noah was the logical replacement for the new sheriff on account of him being the absolute best man for the deadly job, but Flynn saw something in Noah’s eyes on Boot Hill. Go away.

A burst of feedback sliced through the room, and the Band adjusted levels. Dani tried to get her train of thought back on track, but a rousing rendition of Sweet Home Alabama rang over the saloon. People whooped, hollered, and began dancing.

Tomas, the baker, moseyed up to Dani’s table.

“Is there a dance in you, Miss Director?” Tomas grinned, yet Dani remained motionless. She downed her water and slid out from the booth.

“For my exotic, beautiful boyfriend? Let me think about it…” Dani kissed Tomas on the cheek and folded her arms. Tomas pleaded.

“Please, I love this song. Reminds me of green trees for some reason.”

“It reminds me of death.” Tomas frowned. Dani could be morbid sometimes.

“How could this awesome song remind you of death?” He asked.

“It’s Lynryd Skynyrd. They all died in a plane crash.”

“Not all of them.”

Dani rolled her eyes. She hated dancing. It was embarrassing for her. Give her a house to build and insolate, no problem. Greenhouse needs to go up? Give her two days. The river flood its banks? Assemble the Interior brigade. But rhythm was her Waterloo. She looked at Marley, then at Tomas’s begging eyes.

“Please?”

Dani threw her hands in the air.

“Fine.”

Tomas fist-pumped the air, getting a guffaw from the Interior table. He took his small elvish princess by the waist and entered the moving group of dancers. Marley looked on and laughed, a good laugh that she needed.

Remembrance parties were nostalgic, as the town had hosted nearly a dozen such parties since Calico’s formation. Half were from members of the Division of Public Safety, by far the deadliest job. They kept themselves in top shape, and Marley would see them on their daily morning run, some with guns and full packs. To be a member of the D.P.S. was an allegiance to the survival and defense of the town and its inhabitants.

Brave men. Marley secretly wanted to be one of these fearless rangers.

Hundreds of homemade wax candles hung from chandeliers around the saloon. The light from the fire sent dancing shadows cascading around the room. Surrounding the dancers stood pockets of citizens, some mingling with other Divisions and friends, clanking toasts and telling tales of the departed sheriff.

Marley’s grin faded and she looked to the Shiloh’s front doors, towards Boot Hill. Setting her glass of lukewarm lemonade down, Marley snuck a plate from the table and walked toward the buffet where the food was. She loaded the plate with mashed potatoes (harvested two weeks ago) and some salted pork, a rare treat the town would have if any of their pig livestock died. The Division of Agriculture was run by an ex-farmer who kept a strict count of Calico’s animal population. Marley snuck an extra piece of pork onto the heaping plate; she then grabbed an unopened bottle of Bohemian beer and walked out the front doors of the Shiloh Saloon.

Tomas and Dani were twirling to the beat. Winded, Dani thanked Tomas for the chance to humiliate herself and took a break by the long oak bar. The bartender, a large man with kind eyes, approached with a glass of water.

“Glass of w-water, miss Dani?” Catching her breath, Dani nodded and gulped down the refreshing liquid. The bartender smiled, happy to please a customer. They called him Big Larry, and Dani could tell he was “on the spectrum.” The head of the Division of Medicine said Big Larry had a touch of possible trysomi 21; Down syndrome. So, the council gave him an easy job to earn his “rice bowl,”- be the town water dispenser. Big Larry loved it, and would work part-time for the Division of Water hauling five-gallon jugs of safe, boiled river water to the family compounds in the valley.

“Thank you, Lawrence,” said Dani with a wink, “have you seen Marley?”

“Juss saw her. Snuck a beer ’n a plate ’o food out the door juss now.”

“Where’s she going?”

***