Campbell_Book One

Chapter 4




August 2001

Fort Macleod, Alberta



Lucy looked around the crowded emergency room for a seat, but saw nothing available. It wasn’t a big hospital, but it seemed like everyone in town was there, most of them grey and coughing or accompanying someone that was grey and coughing. The wait to check in was about thirty people long, and the hospital receptionist barked ignored commands, and tried to maintain some order. She was failing miserably.

The small girl zoned out for a moment, and she tried to process everything she was feeling. She was distracted by the blood running down her thighs, sticky and warm.

Cole squeezed her hand tightly. “Come on, Ce. We need to find a doctor, or someone important. Someone that can help.”

The pain between Lucy’s legs made it uncomfortable to walk, but she did so anyway, finally desperate enough to put herself in the care of someone else, someone that would hopefully be able to deal with the situation better than she was.

A nurse paused and looked at the two of them critically, there without anyone else. Without an adult. Lucy realized that she was young; close in age to her sixth grade teacher who had just finished school.

“We’re not taking in kids,” she said sympathetically. “I heard the police station was.”

“I’m...” Lucy took a deep breath, hoping the words wouldn’t catch in her throat. “I’ve been hurt.”

The nurse bent down and checked her vitals. “You seem all right to me. Better than most of the people in here.”

Tears streamed down her face and Cole let out a haggard sob, the night having taken its toll on him. “Our grandfather hurt her,” he said, with a firmness Lucy had never heard from him. “We need help.”

The nurse’s face screwed up at the desperation in their faces, took them into a small examination room and closed the door. “Look, unless there’s something medical I can do for you, you’re not going to get much help here. People are dying all over the place. You picked a bad time to do a brave thing…what’s your name?”

“Lucy Campbell,” she answered in a small voice. “Please, we need somewhere to go. We can’t go back there…he...” she took a deep breath, her eyes pleading with the nurse. “There’s blood.”

The nurse sat down in the task chair and cradled her face in her hands. Lucy knew that she hadn’t slept in a long time from the bags under her eyes. She looked at them both critically, her eyes stopping on Lucy’s faded Simpson’s t-shirt. Her expression tightened, and she opened her mouth a couple of times before words came out. She crooked her finger, beckoning them closer.

“I wish I could help you, but I can’t. I’m going to tell you something, and if the world turns itself to right, I’ll deny ever saying it, you hear me?” She scanned their faces as they nodded at her. “You do what you have to do. No one’s going to stop you now, and probably not for a long time.”



September 2012

Los Angeles, West



“So the money is…” Tal quizzed Leah for what felt like the thousandth time.

“Buried under the stairs at the old Scientology Center. I got it,” she nodded. “But I think you’re kind of taking this to extremes.”

“I hope I am,” he said with a shrug. “But if I’m not, you’ll be happy you have it. Just like the other money—”

“Our seed fund.” Leah beamed, peering out over their garden.

It had been a rough summer, beginning a week after they returned from Campbell and had to squash a small rebellion in Orange County. Two days after that, a series of forest fires devastated the Angeles forest, which was bad for general morale, and took a lot of resources to get under control. During that time there were a few more uprisings, which Tal knew had made a lot of people think, and not in ways that were favorable to their current situation.

Still, it was only a small part of the population who were taking it to such extremes. Small pockets of resistance, who really didn’t know what they were resisting at all. They’d just heard things were better, and wanted more. They didn’t understand the costs associated with actually making things better. General consensus was that the revolutionaries were whiny brats whose solutions wouldn’t be any better than the current situation.

Connor had done a great job of putting that rumor out into the masses, and people were actually buying it.


“I was at the market yesterday, and people were saying that they were happy with Connor. Happier than they’ve been in a while.”

Tal nodded, aware that the dropping of taxes on booze had certainly increased his popularity in some circles. “I know he’s trying. But things have a way of falling apart when you’re least prepared. I just want to make sure you’re okay. We’re okay.”

Leah hugged him tight. “I know. And I’m grateful that you think like that. We all need to think like that a bit more.” She looked up at him. “You’ll be home for dinner?”

Tal nodded. “I should be home by seven, since we’re going to Fresno for the election.”

“Bring Connor if you want. I’ll make lots. I’ve got a bunch of tomatoes. I’ll make something with those.”

“I’ll ask,” Tal nodded. “Call if you need me?”

She nodded, a troubled look crossing her face. “Call if you need me.”

Leah had been distant since he returned from Campbell a couple of months earlier, and he flip-flopped between loving and hating it. He knew she was doing a lot of thinking, but she wasn’t telling him what about, which was unlike her. She’d taken to crawling in bed with him in the middle of the night, sometimes looking for something, and sometimes just to sleep, but other than that, they weren’t communicating much. When he asked her what was up, her response was usually to change the subject, but Tal knew she was worried about their security, and there wasn’t much he could do about that. He had his concerns too, but Fresno was thriving.

“It’ll be fine. Fresno is fine.”

“Not reassuring,” she muttered, grabbing his hand. “Has Juan cooled down yet? Is he driving you?”

Tal shook his head. “We’re driving ourselves.”

Connor had f*cked things up with Juan a few days earlier by causing a fuss over a little questionable overtime that he’d marked down and made some rather unflattering comments about the mother of his two children in a moment of anger, which left Connor with a swollen lip and without a driver or a pilot.

In a rare moment of fury, Tal had completely and utterly lost his cool on Connor. It was not the time for them to be pissing off people they’d known since they were kids, and their history with Juan went back almost as far as their history with each other, since Juan’s mother, Lupe, had been Connor’s nanny until her death. Juan was as laid back as they came, and his jumping on him had been an entirely ridiculous way to deal with something that was likely innocent enough. It was a few hundred dollars. If Juan wrote it down, he probably needed it.

Even if he didn’t, it wasn’t like Connor couldn’t spare it. Tal didn’t know why he gave a shit.

After picking him up, Connor started off the drive quiet, which made it fairly obvious that he wasn’t over their fight. He also turned up Dance Mix ’96, which was the album Tal hated more than anything ever recorded.

“The f*ck?” Tal finally snapped. “Look, just f*cking say it, whatever it is you need to say.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, and you’re not.”

“What are you talking about?”

Connor finally turned down the music. “You didn’t have my back with Juan.”

Tal answered with a groan and an eye roll. “Jesus, Connor, it was like two hundred dollars, and he’s a friend. He’s got kids to feed.”

Connor glared from the passenger seat. It wasn’t about the money. They both knew that. It was that he’d attempted to take something from Connor that wasn’t his. If Juan had asked for the money, Connor would have been likely to give it to him willingly, with no repayment required. Connor wasn’t an easy person to ask favors of though, and the costs were usually high.

“Don’t ever think I’m someone that’s to be taken advantage of, Tal. It doesn’t matter that we’ve known each other since we were kids. I’d ruin you too.”

“F*ck, you’re melodramatic. You’ll ruin me?”

“It’s about trust. It’s not about the money. I don’t give a f*ck about the money.”

“Well, I’m not going to f*ck you over, so I guess you don’t have to worry,” Tal muttered. “Now enough with the cold shoulder.”

His cold shoulder was met with a hearty punch. “Fine, a*shole. We’re good.”

“Good,” Tal muttered. “We’ve got enough problems without creating unnecessary ones between us.”

Connor nodded and Tal could see relief flood his face “We’re good man. We’re good.”

The election went fine. The right man won. Connor and Tal were revered guests, and it was after dark when they began their drive back to Los Angeles.

They’d just passed Bakersfield when Connor’s phone rang. The look of surprise on his face when he answered caught Tal off guard.

“Campbell? What? He’s gone?”

“Who is it?” Tal mouthed.

“Rosa.”

Rosa was a shitty actress Connor paid a lot of money to in order to give him the run-down of the goings on in Campbell. She’d been up there for a couple of years, after living in Los Angeles for a long time, and Connor trusted her. They’d dated for a while. Tal had never had great love for Rosa, and he’d suggested Connor fire her after their visit. She was manipulative and would do anything for fame, which was likely how Connor had talked her into moving to Campbell.

He pulled over on the side of the road and put the car phone on speaker. “Slow down. Okay, say it again.”

“Cole Campbell’s presumed kidnapped by East. Everyone up here is fluttering around like it’s the biggest thing since the adults died. There’s talk that they’re viewing this as an act of war. They’re like arming up and shit.”

Immediately, Tal’s feelings on the subject were unclear and his mind raced to reach conclusions. It could go one of a few ways for them, if Campbell and East went to war. Either way, they were the next logical choice for the winner to devour, but it did buy them some time. Or maybe Campbell and East would destroy one another, and leave them the spoils.

“How do they know it was East?” Connor questioned, raising his eyebrows at Tal.

“There’s some sort of letter ordering them to disarm, and merge territories, or he gets it. Cole. I guess there were some pictures too, of him all tied up and looking rough.”

Tal and Connor frowned at one another. “What’s the buzz up there?” Tal asked. “What are they going to do?”

Rosa cleared her throat. “Well, it’s not like I’m close enough to know exactly, but they’re not going to do what they’ve been asked to do, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, well, keep us posted,” Connor said, an amused look on his face. “That’s an interesting turn of events.”

The President of West hung up his phone and tossed it on the dash. “Shit.”

“Shit indeed,” Tal replied, still processing what this meant for them. “That’s a pretty extreme thing to do.”

“I guess they were smarter than us and realized there wasn’t much reasoning with her. It was only a matter of time before she turned her attentions east, and they’re all Canadian up there, no matter how things have changed. They’ll side with her, and her communist—”

“Socialist.”


“Whatever,” Connor rolled his eyes. “What do we do? This has the potential to change the game.”

That it did, Tal thought. “I don’t know. I think we need to sit on it, and really think things through. She made it very clear that she wasn’t interested in working with us, but this could change things. We don’t want to work with East. Even her shit system is better than their utilitarian bullshit.”

Connor shrugged. “Maybe? Let’s sleep on it. We’ll meet up tomorrow morning and decide. Immediately, I think we should re-approach Campbell and see how this changes things for them. F*ck East. There’s no way we’re adhering to their system.”

“Nor will Lucy Campbell with ours.”

“Maybe we deal with the other brother.”

“Maybe he’s more of a douchebag than her,” Tal said, chuckling. “Can a woman be a douchebag?”

“That chick can be whatever she wants,” Connor replied, laughing. “I should go up there and console her.”

Connor’s oblivious ego never failed to amuse Tal. “Dude, you’re delusional. She’s gay.”

“You shouldn’t think of things as so black and white. She just hasn’t met the Wilde.”

“Don’t name your dick,” Tal groaned. “You know that doesn’t get you anywhere with the chicks.”

“Lots of chicks like taking a walk on the Wilde side. Maybe I could be all conciliatory and shit and give her and her girlfriend what they’ve been missing.” Connor blew a kiss in Tal’s direction. “You’re just pissed because I get more tail than you. It’s okay to admit it.”

“If anyone goes, it’s me,” Tal replied, shaking his head. “Because you’re going to come home without the Wilde if you go, because that chick, she’ll take it and not in the way you’re hoping.”

“I think she’s sexually repressed. That’s totally it with a chick like that. She’s trying to play a man’s game, so she goes after p-ssy in the hopes that it’ll make her fit in better.” Connor smiled.

“You’re so deep. No wonder the chicks can’t resist you.” Tal rolled his eyes. “If anyone goes, it’s me.”

“Maybe we should both go again.”

They thought about it for a minute and shook their heads.

“That’s a terrible idea,” Tal said.

“I knew it was as soon as I said it. I just…I feel like there was a real shot there, and I blew it.”

“Diplomatically, of course,” Tal chuckled.

“Absolutely.” He waggled his eyebrows. “My diplomat really wanted to work with hers.”

“So we’ll sleep on it?” Tal said, once they’d finished a series of penis innuendo and jokes that spanned the better part of half an hour, as was the norm on their drives. “And decide our next move?”

“We’ll have a coffee summit tomorrow morning on your porch.”

Upon returning home, after several beers, and arguing his way out of sex with Leah—which resulted in him making himself a can of beans for dinner that looked like they’d been in the house for a decade and probably had—Tal finally settled in to his father’s study to think about the Campbell situation. He had a brief fantasy about consoling Lucy Campbell, which resulted in him screwing her in the grass where they’d laid that night a couple of months earlier. Then his mind wandered to her girlfriend arriving, and before he knew it, he was rubbing one out on the worn leather sofa.

It wasn’t a productive evening, but it was a satisfying one.

When Connor arrived the next morning, Tal knew that, unlike himself, he’d spent the entire night thinking of a plan and his notebook would reflect this perfectly. There would be at least five neatly written pages outlining a way forward, all of which would make perfectly logical sense. Tal might have been good with money, and he was more even tempered than Connor, but was no good at long-term planning. Connor had him beat there.

“So, I think you and Juan should go. Just show up, offer your help, offer whatever we can give. Stay as long as necessary to cement the relationship. Probably don’t sleep with her.” He waved a finger at Tal. “Although you are looking extra manly with that two day beard.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Tal muttered, rubbing his stubble. “Since she is—”

“She’s what? Nineteen? Twenty? She doesn’t know what she is. She’s a dyke because it suits her purposes, like I said before. If you want to roll with the wolves, you’ve got to howl.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Tal chuckled, sipping his black coffee. “And I’m just saying, if the opportunity comes up, I’m probably not going to turn it down. There’s something about that girl, and I don’t usually go nuts for tail like you do.”

“If you’re smart you’ll keep your hands to yourself. You’ll play by her rules, and keep the business and pleasure apart. She seems to be winning with rules.” He shook his head. “F*ck knows why.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Tal mumbled. “You’ll keep an eye on Leah?” He glanced at his friend. “And by keep an eye on, I mean keep your dick out of—”

“Your cousin wouldn’t f*ck me anyway. I’m not one of God’s chosen people. I f*cking run shit, have millions of dollars, and I’m not good enough for her,” he muttered. “I’ll keep an eye on her. Hopefully when she’s out here in her little bikini, and she’s got it untied so she doesn’t get tan lines—”

“F*ck off,” Tal grumbled, punching him in the arm, happy that Leah could barely tolerate being in the same room with Connor most of the time.

“So you’ll go? You’ve lost brothers so you’re probably the best one there too.” Connor said. “We’ll keep a tail on you up there in case anything goes wrong.”

Tal thought about it for a few minutes. He decided it would be nice to get away from Leah for a bit, and have the chance to do something on his own, without Connor or anyone else dictating his actions. It was a great opportunity to set himself apart, and potentially forge an alliance where he was the lead. That, or he’d be the one to f*ck things up even more than they already were. Tal doubted anyone could do any better than him though, least of all Connor. Strategy and negotiation were entirely different things.

He responded with a smile and a sharp nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

In ten years, through Connor’s strategizing, and Tal’s financial management, they’d managed to build an empire. Movies were made, kids became stars. Neither of them were as involved in that world as much as they once were, but a hell of a lot of the money they touched went into the film industry. Movies kept kids engaged and kept them happy. As long as there was culture, people were relatively civilized.

That day, nearly ten years after they’d released their first movie into fifteen theatres across California, Connor put Tal on a plane with a set of every DVD they’d ever made in a huge binder. There were hundreds of them, some quality and some embarrassing.

“You can sell what we do in a way she’ll understand,” he said, as he hugged Tal goodbye. “Call if you need anything to secure her support and I’ll do what I can.”


Tal nodded, looking down at his friend. “We’ll figure this out. This…it’ll be all right.”

“It will be good,” Connor replied optimistically. “See you soon.”



***



Juan still wasn’t speaking to Connor, but he was speaking to Tal. Unfortunately, this was mostly about what an a*shole Connor was, and it went on for most of their flight.

“…All our lives, and he’d throw it away over two hundred bucks, that he did owe me….”

Tal zoned out over what had been Montana and tried to give some serious thought to strategy. He’d be nice. He’d be accommodating. He’d negotiate. He’d be more flexible than last time. If East was going after Campbell, West was surely in their sights once they’d moved Lucy Campbell out of their path straight to the Pacific.

He had to admit, he was excited not having any idea about what the next couple of days would bring. They landed in a field about two miles from Campbell, a bit more roughly than last time but safely, and Juan took a huge breath when he got off the plane.

“F*cking smells like freedom, doesn’t it?” he said, a huge grin stretching across his broad face. “Away from Connor, the kids. This is going to be a good time.”

Tal didn’t feel like bursting his bubble by telling him there was an equally good chance that it would be a terrible time. Instead, he just smiled and nodded as Juan continued rambling during their walk to the Campbell farmhouse. The town, which seemed to have been once called Fort Macleod from the signage, was busier than the last time they’d passed through it, with more and more buildings going up in every possible space. There were a few churches along the way that looked fairly well-maintained, but a couple that were in complete and utter disarray. The smell of cow shit persisted, but after ten minutes or so, Tal found himself acclimating to it as much as he could hope.

“This town is booming,” Juan remarked, as they passed a group of people constructing a house frame. “Do you really think it’s all for her?”

“The farmland around here seems good too,” Tal shrugged. “But yeah, probably.”

They hadn’t been walking very long when they started getting stares from the kids they passed. Those kids didn’t look so different from them, although they were maybe a little better dressed, Tal thought, but when a wall of a man with an impressive moustache stopped them both dead in their tracks, they realized they stuck out like sore thumbs.

“Who are you?” he asked gruffly. “We’ve had some trouble with strangers in these parts lately.”

“We’re from West. We’re here to see Lucy Campbell and offer our support—” Tal winced as found himself pinned to the ground.

The man’s face went beet red with anger. “You don’t just come see Lucy Campbell. You got an invite?”

Tal shook his head, as the kid held him in place, and two more held Juan down similarly.

“Where’d you come from?”

“West,” Tal grunted.

“I mean now. You didn’t walk.”

“We flew,” Juan rasped. “The plane is a mile or so out.”

The boys exchanged looks. “I guess we take them to her?”

“We’ll just go and make sure she’s safe and they don’t mean her harm,” the big one said, before releasing Tal. “You better not mean her harm, or it’ll be the last thing you do.”

“We came to help. We’re from West,” Tal muttered, as he was shuffled onto the back of a pickup truck. “We’re not here to harm anyone. It’s just the two of us.”

A large machine gun was pointed at the two of them through the window of the cab of the truck. “Shut your trap,” the big guy barked. “And you better be telling the truth, because if you’re not, you’ll wish we’d just killed you on the road.”