We were at an impasse. The bodyguard, who I’d learned was called Pete, was physically barring our path to the truck in question. We could have gone to other trucks, but it felt like that would just turn into the weirdest game we could have. I didn’t like the idea of just running from truck to truck. Agitating a man with a gun, even if it wasn’t currently raised, was just asking for people to get shot, probably in the back. I was hoping to delay this a few minutes, but Natalie was already into it with him before I got there. If she wasn’t already engaging him, then I wouldn’t have felt compelled to back her up. I didn’t want to think about how much my feelings for her influenced what I was doing, but it was getting hard to ignore at this point.

  “Is your boss on her way?” Natalie asked the guard. “I’d love to open the trucks on the live on the air.”

  “Wait a second. Are you fucking recording now?!” He went from defensive to a strange combination of furious and scared all at the same time. His jaw tensed up and his arm twitched like he was going to raise his rifle.

  “Yes, of course I am. We should be live here in just a moment as part of Hound News’ commitment to providing America a glimpse into the apocalypse.” She used her on air voice, which told me that she was already live, whether the guard knew it or not. She smiled at him politely, but I sensed the undertones of that look. She had him cornered.

  “So, Representative Cassland, what seems to be the situation?” Natalie turned to me, but she already knew my answer. She was better at this game than most. The cameraman turned the camera’s facing to include me in the footage. I noticed he backed up a few steps to make sure everyone was in frame.

  “Ms. Snowe, I’m here in the capacity as a Captain in the now federalized National Guard. Someone wants to use up precious room that we need for people. I value the arts, and parts of our national history. I’m trying to inspect the items this person wants to bring. My commitment is to protect people first.”

  “Pete, I’m going to have to ask you to open up the back of the truck. If you don’t open it, then I will happily break the lock off.”

  “Uhh…. You can’t do that. Ms. Conway said only she can give me permission to open those.” He stuttered the last part. He looked from me, to Natalie, to the Cameraman, and then to Frank who was out of frame.

  “Pete, do you know what martial law is?”

  “Its something about the military and war time stuff. Hey man, I didn’t do so good in school. I don’t need no damn pop quizzes.”

  “That’s perfectly fine.” I slipped a bit into professor mode, but I was told I came across as more condescending than helpful. “Let me help you out with this. It means that military is in charge. We all fall under military law and jurisdiction while under martial law. I have the authority to view the contents of those trucks. Do you happen to have an active rank in the military.” He shook his head. “Thought not. So, this means I’m in charge, and not Ms. Conway.”

  “But Ms. Conway…”

  I heard the movement of her shoes before I heard her voice. The clacking sound was so distinct that it’s noise punctured through the background of distant explosions and slightly closer gunfire. “Mr. Cassland, you aren’t in charge here. This is my property, and you can’t just seize it.”

  I laughed. “While I would normally agree with you, martial law would dictate otherwise. We are only transporting that which we can fit in addition to any people.”

  “I don’t care about the people, that’s your problem. I have lots of things that HAVE to be preserved.”

  Natalie interrupted, “Ms. Karen Conway, billionaire hedge fund manager, can you repeat that part about not caring about people. The viewing audiences at home would like to have that context.” Smooth and cool, but cutting straight to the point.

  Ms. Conway turned towards Natalie and more importantly, her cameraman. There were multiple emotions that went through her face. For a woman who normally held all her emotions in check, the shock, anger, and raw hatred played across her face. It only showed itself for a few seconds before she was able to master her outward emotions, but those few seconds were more than telling about Ms. Conway’s real thoughts on all of this. Her words were already damning, but those nonverbal cues made her the villain of the moment. The questions was, did she realize that?

  “Excuse me, and just who are you?”

  “I’m Natalie, reporter for Hound News. So why are you insistent on devaluing people over property? What artwork and historical artifacts do you have that are so valuable? If the American public knew what it was that would be sacrificed, then perhaps it would be worthy of discussion.” I noticed Natalie didn’t say her last name. When introducing herself to people on means she normally used her last name. It was common knowledge that one of General Snowe’s children worked for Hound News. The question became, why the subterfuge?

  “Well, Natalie of Hound News. These are priceless historical and artistic artifacts. If we don’t preserve our culture and all the things that show where we came from and tell about who we are, then what are we even fighting for?”

  Natalie shot me a look to not to interfere. I gave a half smile in response. I didn’t want to steal her glory in unmasking the shittiness of one Karen Conway.

  Natalie pressed, “Would you have artwork take the spots of people?”

  “Well, I didn’t say those words. I was merely pointing out that we as the world’s sole remaining superpower, and possibly the last functioning government on the planet to preserve as much knowledge and cherished history as we can.”

  “Very well spoken ma’am. However, we now have on record that you said you don’t care about the people. You said so, just a minute ago. So, what is more important, getting people out of here or preserving these historical and artistic artifacts?”

  “Dear, they are both important. One cannot simply choose either one over the other quite so easily. Which is why I am happy it is not my duty to tell these people that they will have to wait until another train can leave.” Very politician of her. However, she left openings in her statement. Mostly because she knew damn well that she wanted the property to be preserved instead of people.

  Natalie turned to me, and I noticed the cameraman pivot slightly to make sure I was firmly in frame. “Captain Cassland. Are you simply going to turn people away that are only seeking safety and refuge amidst our current calamity?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I shook my head, as I sensed her pass the baton right back to me. I looked right into the camera. “No. I will not abandon a single person to such a fate. I would sacrifice property before a single person. I would like to preserve what art and artifacts that I can, but not at the cost of people.”

  I barely got the last part out before Karen started to lose what cool she might have had, “You will not be leaving a single item behind.”

  I looked at her for a long moment. It was incredulous to think that we would put some artwork or statues over citizens. Over actual human beings. “Karen, I am under no obligation or orders to preserve the items in these trucks. I have been told to help escort you. The fact that you someone are putting some artwork over and above human beings is appalling. Demons are trying to either eradicate us or enslave us. Saving and protecting people who have a chance to help us turn the tide against them is of paramount importance. If you think for one minute that I will order a single person off the train that we’ll be boarding soon, then you’re out of your God damn mind.”

  The tension felt like it was rising once again. All her bodyguards had weapons drawn, but not raised yet. Their fingers were twitchy, which wasn’t a good sign. There was no way they would shoot someone here while being broadcast on live television. That just wasn’t possible.

  Karen looked back at me. She was livid, and not really hiding it. I seemed to have gotten under her skin. “Captain! You have your orders! You will bring all of the things from these semi-trucks with us. All these items need to make their way to Colorado Springs, Colorado. It will become the new capital of our country. I will be travelling with all this art. It WILL BE PRESERVED!” Her cheeks colored slightly as she started yelling. She was really going to make an issue of it.

  “Orders? You don’t give me orders. Not a single fucking person in my chain of command has even suggested that I bring these things with us. I’m about to decide that you don’t need an escort anymore. You should stay here to protect your precious artwork.”

  “How dare you! Colonel Kent will hear of this!”

  “Lady, I don’t report to Colonel Kent. Wrong Colonel. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t do it if my actual Colonel ordered me to. I won’t sacrifice people.”

  “Colonel Kent said I would be in charge of everything here. He assured me of as much. You will do as a superior officer says!”

  “I’m not sacrificing lives. Since I am in charge here, I need to actually be in charge. To that end, I need to see what it is your transporting. I will then only move what we have room for. The rest of it will stay here. That is the best I will ever offer you.”

  “You don’t get to open those crates!” She was incensed. Why would she care about us looking into packing crates of artwork? Her face was becoming more and more flushed with anger, bordering on rage. “You will do as you are told. I swear! You are no better than your father.”

  I smirked, “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” I saw her guards starting to slowly raise their rifles. “Guys, you will want to lower those rifles. Nothing good will come from you shooting anyone.”

  All three of the bodyguards looked hesitant. Pete seemed out of his depth. He was much younger than the other two. He was visibly sweating, and not just from the heat. Granted, it was getting up to 100 degrees.

  Natalie picked that time to bring it back to her by turning to the camera, “Well folks, it sounds like we are at a bit of an impasse.”

  Karen Conway couldn’t resist. Impasse to this woman was like a defeat to her money, prestige, and power. “You will not be getting into the crates, only transporting them to the train.” She wasn’t on the verge of shouting anymore, but she looked and sounded like she refused to lose this fight.

  I reminded myself not to call her a bitch. It wouldn’t help me in the court of public opinion. I nodded to Frank. He held up his shield and his pistol. “Karen, I’m done with the games. We are searching the crates. If we find things that are not priceless artwork, then we know that you were just using all this as a cover to move your own personal stuff. You all should be up.”

  Her guards backed up out of the way. Karen shouted, “WHY Are you BACKING UP! Stand your ground! It is what I pay you for.” I stepped up with Frank as her men continued to back up slowly, not raising their weapons an additional inch. Karen was to the left of Frank, who was between her and me.

  “Frank, I’ll hold your pistol, while you use your axe to pick the lock.”

  Despite the situation, Frank chuckled, “Pick the lock with my axe, he says… Sure thing.” Frank handed over the large sidearm to me, which I held barrel downward. I didn’t want to escalate this any further. I was hoping heightened initiative would help me prevent any worse developments. He used the axe’s strap to lift it over his head and steady it in his right hand. Frank aimed the axe at the lock keeping the back doors to the truck sealed shut. He softly stroked the axe forward and down at the axe. He stopped right before the lock. He did these practice swings twice more before slamming the axe head down with violent force slicing the lock into small pieces. His axe then proceeded to slice through the rest of the locking mechanism and the door as a bonus. “That thing ain’t ever locking back up.”

  I shook my head, “Nope, it is not, my friend. Good lock picking skills.”

  Karen was fuming to our left, but so far hadn’t gotten any worse. “How can you call that lock picking? He sliced the door part way off. I should have that axe confiscated for use by people that are more trustworthy than that man.” I wasn’t sure if she was making a dig at him for being my friend, or she was just racist, but I didn’t care to find out.

  “Yeah, Karen. Not gonna happen. We killed many abyssal orcs and lost far too many fellow citizens that day. You don’t get any of the wonderful shinies of our new reality.” I wonder if my Tolkien reference was lost on her. To be fair, she’d hire Golum if he did exactly what she wanted.

  We opened up both the back doors all the way only to find crates. “Well, at least these look like the crates for artwork.” Frank climbed inside and opened the first one. It was indeed artifacts. They looked to be really old, ancient Greek or Roman old. Pottery and a bust of what I was guessing was a Roman Senator or Emperor.

  We began the laborious process with half a dozen onlookers helping to lower the first crate. We had indeed attracted a lot of onlookers. There were people taking pictures and videos of the event of my confrontation with Karen Conway. I stepped back to allow people the access they needed and soon all the crates from this truck were removed. Karen looked like she would spit bullets at me if she could.

  Natalie and her cameraman had worked their around to the side of all of this as we continued to opening boxes. It wasn’t long before the eighth crate was opened and someone shouted, “These don’t look like art pieces.”

  I turned to see shoes. Some of the shoes looked modern, while others were older. This didn’t look like shoes from five centuries or so ago. All of these looked like they were well under a hundred years old. What the Fuck! Were we transporting Karen’s special shoe collection? I turned to look at Karen right as Natalie put the microphone in her face, “Karen, this does not look like ancient artifacts. What are these?”

  Karen was speechless for just a moment, “Oh shut up you stupid little girl. Just go away… Forever!” Karen pulled out a pistol, I didn’t know she had and unloaded her gun on Natalie. Natalie was closer to her; she was right there, beyond my reach.

  “Your shitty Bitch!” I raised my gun quicker than I thought I could and pulled the trigger as many times as it took to empty the clip of the desert eagle. I didn’t know if Natalie lived or died, but it I couldn’t hold back. I wouldn’t hold back.

  I turned to Natalie. She was bleeding from many holes. She was a mess, and I went for the cookies in my pouch, but they were gone. I dropped to my knees and checked for potions, as Natalie bled out in front of me. I looked at her face; blood was dripping from her mouth as she tried to move her lips. I had no potions. We were well and truly out until Brittney got here.

  I was speechless. I tried to stop the flow of blood, but there were too many bullet holes. I didn’t know what to do. Others rushed in to help, but all I saw and heard were the last two words on her lips, “Love you.” She stopped moving. I then stopped caring about anything else.