The Omnivore Wars Page 6

  Genghis turned. “What do you say, Hannibal?”

  “I have been trained in the same tactics and strategies as Napoleon.”

  If you want a thing done well, do it yourself, Bonaparte said. Napoleon almost repeated the same thought out loud, but instead objected as a wild pig might have, with a loud grunt.

  “Enough,” Genghis raised his voice only slightly, but the room fell silent. “I want you by my side, Napoleon. You are too valuable for me to risk. Hannibal will destroy these humans with little trouble.”

  Napoleon stayed silent. Everything he knew told him it was a mistake for him not to be there. If nothing else, he wanted to experience this skirmish so that he would be ready for the next one, for he had little doubt there would be many battles in his future.

  Genghis continued, “Meanwhile, I have already sent Cassius and Brutus to Genesis Valley. They are under orders to kill every man, woman and child. They must be made an example of.”

  Another mistake, Napoleon thought, knowing Genghis was probably reading his mind. “But I thought we were going to wait until…”

  “Enough,” Genghis said. He showed no outward sign of anger, but it was his very stillness that was a warning.

  Napoleon fell silent. Attacking Genesis Valley would expose them to the outside world. If handled properly, the attack on Pigstown could be contained, but a separate attack on a human settlement would be impossible to hide. It was not strategically necessary.

  It came from solely from Genghis’s desire for revenge.

  “I am not doing this for vengeance,” Genghis rumbled. “If some of these attackers escape, they will have nothing to return to.”

  Saladin spoke up. He was obviously emboldened by Genghis’s rebuke of Napoleon. “The Machine is not yet ready. It will not do what it was made to do.”

  Hannibal snorted. “We don’t need it. We can defeat these invaders without it. Let Tesla and Marie continue to work on The Machine. In a few more days, it will be complete—and we will finish the job.”

  “Is this true?” Genghis asked Napoleon. “It’s not ready?”

  Napoleon hesitated. All their plans—his plans—depended on the Big Pulse. But if they were defeated on this day, that would never happen. “The pulse will be large enough to disrupt the attack. I don’t think we can afford not to use it. The Big Pulse will have to come later.”

  “Use it,” Genghis said, putting an end to the debate. “These humans must not be allowed to escape.”

  Beside him, Hannibal rose to his full height, making Napoleon feel small.

  “I promise you,” Hannibal said, “They will all die.” The big pig turned and left, followed by Saladin, who gave Napoleon a last, reluctant nod.

  Genghis was staring at Napoleon, who felt uncomfortable under the gaze.

  “I’m sorry, Napoleon,” the Great One rumbled. “You’ll see the wisdom of it someday.” He rose from his throne, standing on his hind legs for a moment, then dropped to his four hooves. “Come. We will watch the battle from the top of the hill.”

  Two chairs were placed under the camouflaged canvas shelter at the top of the hill, and Genghis settled into one comfortably. Napoleon had a harder time adjusting his haunches in such a way that he fit into the chair.

  We mustn’t become that which we fight, he thought. We should be proud of who and what we are.

  The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, and the desert was suddenly illuminated with a soft, diffuse light.

  Napoleon shrugged off his backpack and put on his opposable-thumb gloves. He took out the walkie-talkie that was linked to Marie and The Machine.

  Genghis pushed something onto his lap. Napoleon looked down at the binoculars, unable to comprehend what they were for a moment, then he grasped the binoculars and raised them to his eyes.

  He saw a flash of sunlight off of a windshield and, moments later, heard the sound of heavy vehicles approaching.

  Chapter Eight

  Day of the Small Pulse

  Seth’s arms were aching, and he could barely hold them up. Long minutes passed as they stood in front of the barn. There was time to look around and see that the place was even more fortified than it appeared at first glance. There were men and women patrolling the perimeter, which meant they’d been lucky to get into the compound without being discovered.

  Lucky, perhaps, not to be shot.

  Finally, the blonde woman they’d seen earlier in the crow’s nest came bustling out the door, obviously annoyed at the intrusion. She was tall and slender, and from a distance, she’d looked to be in her twenties. Up close, it was obvious that she was closer to fifty years old, maybe even sixty.

  “What do you want?” she demanded. Then she shook her head and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re in the middle of something.”

  “I was hoping to speak to the Hunters,” Kathy said, sounding calm now that the surprise had worn off. Seth couldn’t help but be impressed. She really was cool under fire. Somehow she was managing to make it look like holding her hands up in surrender wasn’t really surrender at all, but placating crazy people. “I assume you’re Jenny?”

  The woman nodded absently. She was looking behind them, then making a systematic examination of the perimeter. It was a practiced motion, as if she’d done it a thousand times before.

  “We’re alone, I assure you,” Seth said, half surprised that he’d spoken out loud. Kathy frowned at him. She liked to be the only one who talked when they cornered their interviewees.

  The woman’s gaze finally came full circle back to them. “I’m Jenny Hunter. My husband isn’t here.”

  “My name is Kathy Comfort,” Kathy said. She hesitated, waiting for the usual excited response but, looking into Jenny Hunter’s eyes, it was clear the name didn’t mean anything here. That was rare enough to be surprising. “I have a show on CNN called Kathy Comfort’s Justice. We are investigating the events of two years ago, and we’ve been told by multiple sources that you know what happened.”

  The blonde woman almost seemed to smile. “The events? Well, I thought that was pretty common knowledge. It was all over the news. It was a rabies epidemic.”

  Kathy lowered her hands. Since no one objected, Seth and Gary followed her example. Gary had set the camera down when forced to raise his hands. Now, at a signal from Kathy, he picked up it and turned it on in stealth mode, so it was hanging from his hands but pointed at Jenny Hunter.

  “Listen,” Kathy said. “Do you mind telling your people to lower their weapons? We’re unarmed.”

  Jenny looked almost surprised by the request. “Sorry,” she said, signaling the others to back away.

  “That’s more like it,” Kathy said. Her voice had taken on the slightly more resonant tone she used when on the air. “Now why don’t we go inside your little fort and talk about it?”

  “Nothing to talk about,” Jenny said bluntly. “You’ve got to leave before…” She broke off, looking away.

  “Before what?”

  “Nothing,” Jenny said. “We’re just busy.”

  “Yes…well, I think there is more to it,” Kathy said, looking skeptical. “We’ve talked to several people who have told us as much.” Which was an exaggeration, but there was no rule that reporters had to tell the truth to their interview subjects.

  Jenny stood there, but she didn’t object.

  “I don’t believe that it was a rabies outbreak,” Kathy continued, her tone becoming accusatory: not so much so that the accused might run away—just enough to challenge her. It was surprising how often that elicited a lame defense from the guilty or a heartfelt plea from the innocent. “I think you’re hiding something.”

  “I don’t really care what you think,” Jenny said. Which was not the response Kathy was looking for.

  Kathy changed gears. “I do find it interesting that you’ve inherited Lyle Pederson’s estate. I understand you didn’t even know him until
a few days before the events. A single notary public and a signature, and you’re one of the richest people on the planet. How are we supposed to take that?”

  This was another patented Kathy Comfort technique. Talk to me or I’ll draw my own conclusions.

  Jenny’s face flushed in anger. It was clear that this approach was backfiring.

  Seth watched Kathy trying to come up with a follow-up question. For the second time, he dared to speak up. “We just want to know the truth,” he said. It sounded sincere because it was. He really, really wanted to know what had happened here.

  The barn door opened, and a small woman came out. She was shorter and slightly plumper than Jenny Hunter, probably thirty years younger, and looked Hispanic to Seth. When she spoke, she had no trace of an accent.

  “Why don’t you invite them in, Jenny?” she said. “What harm can it do? They won’t believe us anyway. But maybe, when things go bad, they’ll remember what we said.”

  “Barry won’t like it, Alicia,” Jenny said.

  “Barry isn’t here,” Alicia answered. “You’re the one who is always saying the world needs to know.”

  Jenny Hunter looked around, as if looking for a second opinion. None of the people surrounding them with guns said a word, and Jenny sighed. “You know what? I’m tired of hiding. I’ll tell you exactly what happened. I won’t withhold a single detail. You’ll never broadcast it anyway.” She said that last with a tone of satisfaction.

  Alicia opened the door and waved them in.

  They were marched into the barn, a guard on either side. Seth wondered if they had fallen into the grasp of some apocalyptic cult. One that worshipped pigs?

  “Hard to believe we’re still in America,” Kathy said to him, loud enough that everyone could hear.

  “You’re welcome to leave at any time,” Jenny said. “We’ll open the gate for you, and you can drive away.”

  Kathy shut up.

  The barn was huge inside. People were obviously living there. Blankets hung from ropes at the back of the barn for some crude privacy, and Seth could see cots and clothing in all the nooks and crannies. On one side, there was a long workbench laden with state-of-the-art tools. Supplies were piled on either side of the front doors, and near the middle of the barn was a makeshift kitchen, some lawn chairs, and a couple of old sofas.

  There were also weapons everywhere, just lying around on tables and chairs and propped against everything, and stacks of ammo on the floor. There were round portholes running along every side of the barn. And beneath every porthole, leaning against the walls, were semiautomatic rifles.

  “Getting ready for a war?” Kathy asked.

  “You could say that,” Jenny responded.

  She led them to the largest table and sat down. Kathy sat facing her, with Gary Ornstein and his camera at her side. Alicia sat next to Jenny, and Seth sat across from her. There was the anticipatory pause that was always a thrill to Seth. What would they say? Would it be something new, something no one had ever heard?

  Kathy motioned for Gary Ornstein to—officially—start filming. Seth brought out his cellphone and started recording as backup.

  “First, if you will, please identify yourselves,” Kathy said, her glance including the smaller Hispanic woman.

  “Alicia Flannigan,” she said.

  Jenny shrugged and said, “Jenny Hunter.”

  “May I call you by your first names?” Kathy asked.

  Again, Jenny shrugged, evidently speaking for both of them.

  “Very well, Jenny, please tell me in your own words what happened two years ago in Saguaro.”

  Jenny looked over at Alicia, who returned a bemused smile.

  “You asked for it.” She then proceeded to tell the most outrageous story Seth had ever heard. Tuskers. Hyper-intelligent (she actually used the word swinesteins!) wild pigs rampaging through the Morrow Valley, out to kill every human they could find. Lyle Pederson had apparently been the only one who had seen the danger in advance and prepared to face it. The Hunters had showed up in time to help fight the Tuskers, though Pederson was killed.

  Halfway through the crazy story, Seth looked over at Kathy and, though she had her patient-listening expression glued on, he could tell she was disappointed. Small-town nuts weren’t news. They were everywhere.

  “We inherited Lyle’s money with the understanding that we would search out and destroy any surviving Tuskers,” Jenny concluded.

  There was a long silence. Seth almost laughed out loud, especially at the sight of Kathy Comfort being at a loss for words.

  “I see,” Kathy said, finally. “Well, that was very interesting.” She stood up abruptly. “I think we have everything we need.”

  Jenny shot an amused glance at her friend. “Told you,” she said.

  “I have a question,” Seth said, still sitting. Kathy glared at him, but for once he was less concerned about his job than he was in finding out the truth. Kathy sat down with obvious reluctance. Fuck this job and the fucking that comes with it.

  “How are you connected to this?” he asked Alicia. “I don’t think you told us.”

  “My father, Flaco Morales, owns extensive property in the Morrow Valley,” Alicia answered. “He and Lyle Pederson were friends. Father and I weren’t here when the Aporkcalypse happened, but we’ve both seen enough since then to believe it’s true.”

  “And your husbands?” Kathy asked, picking up the gauntlet. “Where are they?” Seth doubted she was really all that interested, but she wasn’t about to let her assistant take over the questioning.

  “We have evidence that the Tuskers have reemerged, in the deserts of Utah,” Alicia explained. “My husband, Enrique Flannigan, was a master sergeant; he and some of his former comrades in arms, along with Mr. Hunter, have gone to investigate the situation.”

  Kathy looked over at Seth, and it was obvious she was giving up, all but rolling her eyes. She shrugged, as if to say, Go ahead, ask anything you want. But before Seth could say anything, one of the soldiers appeared at Alicia’s side.

  “Your husband’s on the phone,” he whispered urgently. “They’ve found something.”

  Alicia got up from the table and Jenny hurried to join her. Suddenly, it was as if the crew of Kathy Comfort’s Justice weren’t there. Not the treatment they were used to.

  Kathy raised her eyebrows and puffed out her cheeks. “Wow.” She got up and started walking to the door, looking around as if she expected to be stopped. But no one was paying any attention. Gary and Seth followed. Gary had already turned off the camera. Seth reluctantly switched off his cell phone. He was still intrigued, but he could tell that Kathy had completely lost interest in the whole thing.

  They opened the barn door. “I’ll see you out,” Jenny said.

  She led them to the front gate and unlocked it. Before they passed through, she grabbed Seth’s arm. “Be careful,” she said, then she locked the gate behind them.

  #

  “That was disappointing,” Kathy said as soon as she was ensconced in the backseat of the limo. She pulled a liquor bottle out of the door pocket and poured herself a drink. Seth had never seen her drink so early in the day.

  He wasn’t so sure it was disappointing. The whole story, as outlandish as it was, had the sound of truth. Either all these people were under the same delusion, or they were in danger.

  “Why?” Seth asked. “You knew that there was something different about this place. If nothing else, they could be a dangerous cult. And maybe…maybe there’s something to it.”

  Kathy shook her head. “Super-intelligent pigs? I certainly wasn’t expecting that. I thought it was some kind of government or big business environmental thing. Some bug or chemical that escaped and killed some civilians. I was figuring the Hunters had somehow blackmailed Pederson. Something like that.”

  “But is it really so hard to believe?” Seth insisted. In his heart, he still felt like there was some truth to the story
that Jenny Hunter had told them, even as his mind rejected it as ridiculous. “Have you ever seen a wild boar, Kathy? Not one of those little javelinas, but one of the big ones—the hogzillas?”

  “I’ve seen them in the news,” she allowed.

  “Well, my understanding is that they are hybrids: a mix of different breeds, bigger and smarter than anything that’s come before. But what if…what if we’ve pushed the environment to the breaking point? What if animals are starting to evolve to survive the human onslaught on nature?”

  To the surprise of both of them, Gary Ornstein spoke up from the front of the limo as he steered them down the dirt road leading away from the Pederson barn. “Pigs are smart. We used to raise them, and you’d be surprised how clever they are.”

  They were passing the burned-out subdivision on the way back to town when the limo jerked. It sputtered a few times and then shut down completely. Gary steered it to the side of the road.

  It was a dark late afternoon. Seth was looking at some lights in the distance that blinked out at the same moment. What would cause a car and house lights to stop working at the same time? he wondered. With a sinking sensation, he realized the feeling had been there ever since they had descended into this valley, growing every minute they were there. But he was only now becoming fully aware of the depth of the dread that had been coming over him.

  “What’s wrong, Gary?” Kathy asked. “Did those fuckups in the garage give us a lemon?”

  “I have no idea,” Gary said. “I’m a driver, but I’m no mechanic.”

  Seth sighed. He’d worked in a gas station in Oregon when he was in high school. He had a very rudimentary knowledge of engines, enough to at least pretend to look at the problem. He got out and motioned for Gary to hit the hood latch.

  The hood opened to a cloud of smoke. Seth looked down on a smoking mass of melted wires. This car wasn’t going anywhere. What the fuck did this?