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is pretty well organized. It usually means there is one less tribe on the mountain when it’s all over. I can’t remember the last time they managed to do any real damage. They ran out of bullets a long time ago.”
    “What about here? You said there is a cannibal group across the river?”
    “Yeah, but there’s only a sickly handful left. I honestly don’t know how they lasted this long. We’ve talked about putting them out of their misery many times over the years, but it’s never really worth the risk, since they know better than to come our way. They used to be a real problem though. But that’s getting ahead of my story. You’ll have to wait.”
    “You know, Bill... It occurs to me that you are putting a lot of time and effort into telling me your story. Can you tell me why? I can’t imagine you recruit everyone with this story.”
    “Just look at me, Terry. I’m getting on up there. When I was a kid, people could live up into their seventies, easy. We don’t have hospitals or much in the way of medicine anymore. I could make it another thirty years, but the odds are that I won’t. I can tell you I’m feeling my age. I’ve spent half my life surviving, and the other half trying to build this place. I guess I just want to make sure that somebody can carry on.”
    “But, why me?” Terry asked.
    “You have no idea how rare you are these days, Terry. You learned to read when most kids don’t bother. You ask questions when most kids either leap without information or just wait for someone to give them an order. You watch and observe, and you seem to have a good grasp of people, especially for a young man. But most of all, you have principles and integrity. I spotted that when we first met, when you stood up to me on the basis of your principles. My father would have argued all day that the reason the Breakdown ever happened was that we lost our principles. Everyone who was supposed to be leading the people was too busy trying to line their own pockets to pay any attention to what this country was supposed to be. We’ve paid for that loss for more than a generation. Somebody has to remember what it all means, you know?”
    “Just like the Judge,” Terry said. “He’s only worried about himself.”
    “Yeah, just like that. The sad part is that his father was a good man. He looked out for his people. We fought together. He’s probably rolling over in his grave right now.”
    “Well, thank you for your trust, Bill. I never knew I was anything but a troublemaker.”
    “People are tired. You ask too many questions, and they are too tired to answer. Sound about right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, it takes hard work to build up from nothing. Sometimes you have to keep pushing, no matter how tired you get. If people always did that, we would live in a different world.”
    Terry nodded silently, and gazed across the field.
    A pickup truck appeared on the road west of the community. It left a billowing cloud of dust that glowed in the sunset light.
    “Ah, here comes your ride. Let’s get your bike out to the road.” Bill said.
    The two men, young and old, rose from the rebuilt folding chairs and scooped up the empty beer bottles. Bill showed Terry the plastic bin where they went, to be washed and refilled. Terry leaned his bike upright, and pushed it through the close clipped grass, in the long shadows thrown by the horse apples along the western fence line. The old blue truck rolled down the road towards them, leaving a black plume of diesel smoke in the clear air. When it reached them, it practically stood on its nose in a hard stop.
    “She’s just showing off.” Bill said.
    The driver of the truck was none other than Red Sally herself. Terry didn’t fail to notice the obvious setup, but he smiled to see her just the same.
    “Hey there, Lazybones. I see you’re just standing around again. What does it take to get some work out of you?” Sally said, smiling back at him.
    “Well, ma’am...” Terry