Warlock and McDonald were up before sunrise and spent an hour with the Security forces going over the trail data and potential locations from Cumberland to Ohiopyle which would be there area of concentration. Security magnified on the GPS screen potential sites along the trail that a hiker could use to avoid detection. They shared breakfast and by the time they got up to leave, all of the prior distrust related to their initial landing had been dissolved. In fact Warlock found out that he had served in Egypt with one of the Security men. They finished their breakfast talking of the campaign of 2030 when Gaza was finally settled between Israel and Lebanon.
It was right after the first rays of sun came over the mountains that Warlock fired up the vapor jets. Since they received the Security Flash from Pittsburgh, they talked about options available to Sloan in getting to and around Cumberland. Security in Cumberland relayed to them a report from a boat detail on the Youghigheny that a solo Anglo man had been seen west of Ohiopyle. They had chased him, but he had eluded them. Warlock and Martin had done data inputs into their GPS network seeking alternate travel routes. In Martin’s mind the most critical thing was the description of height, weight and heat that were close to what Sloan may look like in hiking clothes. The man who ran was white, which made the description valid because not many whites would be out walking the Laurel Mountain trails these days. Martin and Warlock looked closely at the print out of his trail options. As it turned out, Sloan had few choices. He could follow the Great Allegheny Passage directly to Cumberland or he could take branch trails that wound around the mountains which would take much longer.
The most logical alternative path would be the Old 40 Trail which had been built over the remains of the first turnpike in the early 1800’s. That would probably save him about one day. The only problem was that it went through inhabited and loyal areas built by refugees working in the logging industry the last decade. This was especially true around Frostburg. One possible choice was to take the Northern Trail which stayed above the old Mason Dixon Line before dropping straight down along the Will’s Creek Trail into Cumberland. They agreed that Sloan would probably stick with the main Passage trail but they would do a pass over the Will’s Creek Trail anyway before going back west toward Ohiopyle.
The sun was brilliant behind them as they headed west following Will’s Creek which was flowing as a river that day due to unusually heavy rains the past week. They followed the trail without incident until Warlock turned the skimmer due west and crossed over a large mountain.
“Mt. Davis,” he yelled into his speaker, “over thirty-seven hundred feet, McDonald. I can’t believe that guy is going to walk this whole trail system. Let’s get over to Confluence.”
Looking down at the desolation of the mountains and thick forest covering, Martin began to think that Warlock was right. Sloan was not in the shape to cover this much ground in such a short period. “You’re right, Warlock.
Let’s get back to the Youghigheny. From where he was spotted we know he was close to the trail. So he either doubled back or he is laying low trying to wait out Security. He certainly is not looking for us, that is for sure”, barked Martin into his speaker.
“If that was him,” Warlock countered. “Those Security guys on trail are probably not the brightest in the world.
He could have been a farmer but that GPS feedback put him into the overall description, so we’ll assume it was him.”
“Good assumption Warlock,” McDonald countered jokingly.
“No smart ass remarks to me. You want this guy, I’ll get him. That’s my profession.”
He swooped up and over a power line, then settled again into his glide path. Warlock was now following a river west. “We’re still over the Casselman River, McDonald. It goes all the way back to the Yough Lake,” he said.
For most of the day they circled some of the sites picked out by the Security people in Cumberland. Warlock said to Matin that he wanted to clear out everything east of Ohiopyle before concentrating there. Finally he turned west towards Ohiopyle, following the trail exactly and slowing the speed. It was early in the afternoon, when Martin who was looking at the line of the narrow river spotted what looked like smoke. “Over there.
What’s that?”
“Smoke,” Warlock shouted, as he banked over a cut in the hills.
“Something’s burning. Can you get closer?” Martin shouted excitedly into his mouthpiece.
“I can hover right over it, except I gotta stay clear of all that smoke. I’ll let you down if it looks clear,” he shouted as he reversed his rotors and dropped down to the spot along the river where spirals of smoke were dissipating into the air.
Warlock maneuvered them just to the left of the smoke, which seemed to have stopped.
“Someone put it out” Warlock shouted over the vapor engine noise.
“I’ll go down. Just move to the other side.”
“Here take this,” he said handing a slim laser gun to Martin.
Martin grabbed the shoulder harness,hooked his arms into it, and opened the side hatch. Warlock nodded to him. The auto winch dropped down towards the ground and in a few seconds Martin was gliding onto the soft, needle covered turf. The sight of a fire was only about twenty feet away and it was smoldering. Someone had just thrown water onto the pile of once burning wood.
He drew the palm sized gun and walked cautiously towards the blackened pile.Obviously by the footprints someone had been here. “Don’t move,” said a deep voice from somewhere behind where Martin was standing.
He could see no one and he froze.
“What do you want here?” came the voice again from deep curls of bushes wedged in between pines.
“Why don’t you come out? I’m not here to harm you or anyone,” he replied.
“Why that fuckin’ government thing overhead?” came the deep guttural voice.
“We’re looking for someone who used to work with me in Pittsburgh. Someone who would have come through Confluence on the trail.”
“You’re a long way from Pittsburgh. Confluence is down around the next bend. This trail is never used anymore. You got a weapon there. You can drop it, now. Is this person you’re looking for, dangerous?”
“Not dangerous to you, just to the government. As far as the beam in my hand, if I drop it, the guy up there looking down at us will blast you away. He’s got a picture of us on his screen right now. I’d advise you to come out with your hands up so he can see you weaponless, otherwise I’ll drop this weapon and you’re gone.”
“Nice talk. You’re a cocky son of a bitch. While we were talking, my members have disappeared. No heat spotter or anything could find them. We flipped and I lost. I cover you until they’re gone. I pay the consequences whatever they might be. We’ve been out here quite a while. So it’s your turn.”
“Tell you what. I’ll call off Commander Warlock up there,” Martin looked up at the hovering Skimmer, “if you come out. We’ll talk. I have no need to harm you, unless of course you’re a fugitive yourself. Warlock probably knows that already. He’s probably sent your profile into headquarters. If there’s no response, he’ll back off.
At that moment a tall white man dressed in tan colored leggings and jacket came out directly in front of Martin.
He held a shotgun at his waist. He was well over six feet, narrow build, with a dark brown beard, mustache and a shaggy head of hair that came down over his ears. His deep blue eyes flanked a broad nose. Martin looked at the man, who was probably in his thirties. The man looked up at the Skimmer, hovering over their heads, then lowered the shotgun to his side.
“No problem down here, Commander,” Martin spoke into his collar phone. “I don’t see a place to land, so just hover for a few minutes while I talk to him,” Martin spoke into his phone.
“You can put that down, Mister. I don’t trust that thing you were pointing at me and if I have to, I’ll shoot it out of your hand.”
“Not necessary”, Martin said and he dropped the laser into a belt holster. “I got my security right above you.”
The man looked up, then lowered the shotgun and moved toward Martin. Martin raised his laser gun. The woodsman looked at it as if he had never seen this kind of a weapon before. He flipped his shotgun several times in his large hand, then threw it to the edge of the river.
“Who are you looking for?”
“A man called Kurt Sloan. He may be coming through on his way to Cumberland on the trail from
Connellsville. May have passed through Ohiopyle or even Confluence and be heading through here. Have you seen anyone walking it?”
“No one uses this trail anymore. First no one has time to walk for leisure and secondly, it’s not safe. It’s not like it used to be. Our people use it to get into Confluence. Other than that, it’s not used. We sure as hell don’t want to go anywhere. Families have lived in these parts for hundreds of years. We have some farms we’re trying to keep going. Don’t see too many people from Pittsburgh anymore, from any place for that matter. But we can grow enough for ourselves. Trouble is we have no place to sell what we make. You understand?” the man said.
“I think so. Why don’t you take your produce to the markets, to Bedford or even down to Cumberland?”
“We do. Problem is no one has any currency. Some people try and use old dollars. The credit chips from New York so far don’t work out here. No one trusts that. The Pittsburgh credit line was okay for a while, but now no one will use it. Would you?”
“Well, I do, of course. So what do you end up using?”
“Anything of value. Over east some even have voucher chips from Columbia. American currency printed in Atlanta is traded also, anything that others will trade for. It’s like it was when my folks first came here. Last week I got paid in old gold coins from a collection somebody got from a house over in Meyersdale. Most of the people still here are old. It’s not easy to just start a whole new way of life like they want us to do in Pittsburgh.
Is that who you work for, that new government?” he said cautiously.
“Part-time, but I’m a full time student. Just so you know, I totally believe in what they’re trying to do. It’s not easy changing a system that’s been around four-hundred years. They’re trying to help all citizens like your self and not just the rich, like it used to be. It takes a while to get a new system working right. You had any contact with the government representative? Have they come to meetings to explain what’s going on?” he said.
“They were at meetings over in Meyersdale. All I know is that they talked about buying up properties to divide amongst other people. Mostly people from God knows where, who didn’t do a goddamn thing to earn the land like the folks who have it. Most of this land has been in families for centuries. That didn’t go over to well. But I did go so I would know what they were up to. Not many showed up. People were afraid if they went to the meetings they’d be profiled. Once you’re profiled, then what I heard, you’re programmed, which means you eventually will lose all we got left, our independence, our freedom, and worst of all, our land. That’s what we’re all afraid of losing. Our freedom to live the way we want to. Do you know what I mean?”
“I know very well. I’ve never had freedom, sir, never. That why this new country is trying to get freedom for all its citizens. You have to listen to them, give them a chance. You never had freedom in the old system. I mean only the rich were controlling things. Only the rich white people were getting anywhere! Now everybody can participate and get mutual benefits, equally: schools, housing, jobs, healthcare, and most importantly, opportunity is open to everyone.”
“You sound like a politician. All we want is to be left alone to live. That’s all. No offense to you, but not the way some black or Latino bureaucrat thinks we should live. What the fuck would they know about living out here? All those immigrants know is living in a big city. Look at you, this country is just right for your kind. It’s yours now.”
“No offense? My kind of what? Sir, I came here asking for your help!” Martin screamed. “I have a Skimmer and Security on top of your head. He could disintegrate you in a second, if I ask him to. I don’t believe in violence, but your insults make it tough. This country is trying to help you. So I guess you’re saying you don’t want our help, but you are now a citizen of the country of Atlantica and you will be programmed. Whether you believe it or not, it’s for your benefit. It will make you eligible for the social benefits that you’ll get for free.”
“Nothing is free, young man, especially my freedom. You can keep your benefits,” he countered.
“That’s up to you, woodsman, but I can’t let your insults go unanswered. Since you noticed, I’m both a black and a Latino on a Security mission. How many of you are here?” Martin said looking past the man to the surrounding woods.
“Not gonna tell you that, but we have families that live in adjoining farms and have banded together, like it was back in the seventeen hundreds. The older folks are still here, but most of our young folk went back to England”
he offered.
“Why didn’t you?” Martin said.
“We just couldn’t leave our land. This has been our land. It’s still our land. It’s fed our families and it’s still feeding our families. No matter what you say or want in Pittsburgh.”
It was a bit strange as the two of them spoke about the new country with the Skimmer humming away overhead.
Finally Martin, the advocate for the new way, realized he wasn’t getting anywhere and was wasting his time.
“Believe me, what is being achieved is for everyone’s good.”
Now equally impatient, the tall man looked at Martin and said, “Sorry, I don’t believe you...You need anything else from me? I got to find some lost sheep,” he said raising his shotgun and putting it up on his shoulder.
“Wait a second,” Martin spoke into his collar phone. “Warlock, can you hear me?”
“Yeh, what do you want? Are you ready to come up?”
“Not yet, but any profile on this guy?”
“Nothing’s come back. Probably clean, McDonald. Let’s get out of here.”
“OK, but listen. Circle about a bit and see if you spot any heat groupings that could be sheep.”
“Sheep? You did say sheep? Getting a little horny McDonald!” he laughed as the Skimmer peeled away above.
For a few minutes the debate picked up again between the patriot of the new society and the remnant of the old one. Neither understood the other. In a few minutes, they stopped talking and looked up as the Skimmer moved in over their heads.
“About a mile south, there seems to be a small creek. They’re at that creek. Hear me McDonald?”
“Okay, Warlock.” He turned to the large man. “See that Mister, we’re not all by the book. We found your sheep. They’re about a mile south of here by a creek. Give us some time, things will work out,” Martin said. As he was turning to leave he asked him one last time, “Are you sure you haven’t seen anyone on the trail?”
“I ain’t seen anyone. I don’t spend too much time near the trail, except as I said to go into Confluence or back over to Rockwood. Maybe he hasn’t got this far yet,” the tall man said and began to walk away from Martin. He went four steps and turned, “Nothing against you, it’s just difficult getting along these days,” he said quietly.
“Thanks for your help. I’ll be off to get those sheep.”
“By the way, how many of your countrymen are back there?” Martin said looking off to the thick wooded area behind them.
“Just me,” he said as he moved off, laughing to himself.
Martin watched the tall woodsman disappear into the trees. He shook his head and looked up at the Skimmer that hovered above him.