“Nice to meet you, Snoopy,” Lorinda said. She turned off the engine and followed her companions onto the dock.
“What was the message,” Stimpy asked more insistently.
“Please follow me to the orientation facility,” said Snoopy, chuckling at his own officiousness. “Safer in there.” He started walking back to the dome.
The building seemed bigger inside than it looked outside. It was full of table-top models and Seasettling dioramas: a mom, a dad, a boy, a girl — the handsome, happy family from the billboards, now joined by a dog — having a picnic on a lush lawn, surrounded by the sea; two men playing tennis on a platform in the middle of the ocean; a couple dining in a fancy looking restaurant; two couples playing golf, apparently on a floating golf course; a few dozen jolly people seated in a mid-century-modern community dining room; a cozy family living room with a fire blazing in a big brick fireplace. Freestanding posters trumpeted
FIVE-STAR RESTAURANTS
HYDROPONIC FOOD AND CANNABIS FARMS
NO EXTERNAL GOVERNMENTS — WE’RE OUR OWN NATION
WORLD’S FREEST MONETARY SYSTEM
NO TAXES EVER!
EXCELLENT MEDICAL CARE
PERFECT WEATHER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BEAUTIFUL OCEAN
UNIQUE FLOATING GOLF COURSES
LOW ENTRANCE AND MAINTENANCE FEES
A SOCIETY OF PEOPLE JUST LIKE YOU
“So what’s the deal? Are we safe in here?” Stimpy seemed agitated.
“Yeah,” said Snoopy. “That’s the thing — there’s no one out here. My colleagues have all evacuated. We haven’t had a single visitor since … I can’t remember when. I sweep this dome twice a day for surveillance. But here’s the big problem. We just learned, this morning, that Libertyville is about to explode.”
“Like it’s not exploding now?” Lorinda said.
Ren laughed. “Good point.” Turning to Snoopy, he said, “Seriously? How do you mean?”
“Have a seat,” Snoopy said, indicating several chairs in front of a desk. He took the chair behind the desk. Clearly, this was where a Seasettling salesperson and potential Seasettlers were supposed to sit down and make a deal. Ren gently rested the heavy automatic weapon on the table. He motioned Lorinda to one of the chairs, but she shook her head no, waved her hands in a gesture of nervousness, and walked around the room. Stimpy and Ren sat.
“All these people who moved to Libertyville from around the CCSA, looking for the libertarian life — no rules, no taxes, all that shit?” Snoopy said. “Well, you know that ever since the billionaires ran away, the place has been falling apart. No jobs, no nothing. And —”
“Of course there’s no jobs!” Stimpy spat. “Who would open a factory here? Or a warehouse? Or anything? There’s no taxes, so there’s no infrastructure. The roads are shit! The utilities are shit!”
Snoopy held out two open hands to signal “calm down.” He said, “It’s true. And even if there were jobs, there’d be no taxes to keep the place going. The people who moved here, they’re pissed. Really pissed. Plus, they’re idiots. I know — you’re shocked. Thing is, they feel betrayed. With reason. Now there’s a big faction in the western sector, along the New Mexico border, they want to take over the whole enclave.”
“What do you mean, take over?” Ren asked. “Can they even do that?”
“Who knows? It’s anarchy out here, man. They want to kick out the owners and investors — I mean, if there are any left — and all their minions, kick out whatever remains of the government, and start the place over. And they’re on the march. And of course heavily armed. That’s what my message was about.”
Lorinda, only half listening to the conversation, was fascinated by the Seasettling displays. “So is anyone out there? Actually seasettling?” Lorinda asked. The three men looked at her, confused by the non-sequitur. Ren was the first to make sense of what she was asking.
“No,” he said, “and no one ever will be. It’s a total scam. They’re not even building it.”
“It didn’t exactly start out that way,” said Snoopy. “They tried to build it in the middle of the ocean, but they had to quit after a couple of months — it was way too hard, too many storms, too expensive, whatever.”
“Too stupid,” said Stimpy.
“The only thing they ever built,” said Snoopy, “is this marketing operation here, which they somehow forgot to close down. I took someone’s deposit as recently as maybe six weeks ago — for the good of the cause. Our cause.” He laughed. “Anyway, we can’t get you anywhere near New Mexico right now. It’s like there’s a war going on, and you have to go through the war to get to our tunnel.” He turned to Stimpy. “I was telling you to stay far away from Libertyville. That was my message.”
Lorinda looked crushed. “But … how will I get to New Mexico?”
“Fuck,” said Stimpy. “We had this nice, simple mission.”
“That’s the only way into New Mexico,” Ren said. “Unless the wall falls down. Looks like we’re going the long way.”
They heard a distant explosion, then another.
“They’re coming,” Snoopy said. “You have to get out of Libertyville. Fast.”
“What about you?” Ren asked.
“I’m going to ground. I’ve got an airtight cover, I should be fine. But y’all need to get in the dinghy.”
The sounds of explosions and gunfire continued as they returned from the island. They left the boat at the dock and, moving quickly, retraced their steps. At the main street — the extension of the pedestrian mall — all hell was breaking loose. A caravan of pickup trucks was several blocks away and closing fast. You could see them, hear them, and — with their stacks belching black smoke, even as the store fire continued to rage — smell them approaching. People lined the street, some panicking, some cheering. Each burst of automatic gunfire seemed closer than the last. A nearby bullhorn blared: “We are the Libertyville Liberation Army, liberating Libertyville from the billionaires. If you’re not with us, you die! If you’re a billionaire, you die!”
A tall, sixtyish man with wavy salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed gray beard, wearing a silky blue track suit and, incongruously, brown leather dress shoes, and carrying a big automatic weapon similar to the one over Ren’s shoulder, pushed his way past Lorinda and looked toward the approaching trucks. “Goddammit!” he screamed. “This is my enclave. I’m a frickin billionaire! I own this place!” He pointed his gun to the sky and fired off a short, loud burst that made everyone around him, including Lorinda, Stimpy, and Ren jump. For a moment she thought her ears would never work again. The billionaire turned and looked around. His blue eyes, blazing with insanity, locked on Ren.
“Stay cool, man,” Ren said gently.
The man thrust his gun into Ren’s chest, screaming “You’re one of them!” And he squeezed the trigger.
Ren and the woman pressed up behind him, craning her neck to see what was coming down the street, were both torn apart. Lorinda screamed. Stimpy reflexively grabbed the billionaire’s gun and smashed him in the face with the butt, breaking his jaw and sending him sprawling to the pavement. Then he spun around and dropped to his knees next to Ren. One look told the story. Though he knew it was pointless, he slid a hand under Ren’s chin and felt for a pulse. Lorinda watched, frozen in anguish and fear. Stimpy looked up at her and shook his head. He gently slid the gun out from under Ren. Then he stood facing Lorinda, holding both of the bulky guns.
“We’ve got to get out of here. There’s nothing we can do for him,” he said.
“But —”
“He’s gone. We can’t help him. If we hang around here we’re next.” He clicked the safeties on both guns. Before he could hand her one, she fell to her knees and vomited on the ground. When she stood up again, Stimpy patiently gave her a gun and said, “If you need to use it, you do this.” He demonstrated the safety catch. “Wear it like this.” He put the strap over her shoulder and placed her hand on the butt. “Hold it like this or it’ll bump into you every time you take a step. Let’s go.”
In a daze, Lorinda walked next to him. They were on the main street, striding fast to stay ahead of the pickup parade. He muttered, “fuck fuck fuck” under his breath as they threaded their way through the chaotic throng hustling in panic in all directions. Finally they reached the front gate. As they entered the parking lot they heard a big explosion behind them. By the time they turned to look, flames were shooting up from the street of billionaires’ mansions.
Exiting the parking lot was relatively easy. There hadn’t been many cars there to begin with, and most of the tourists inside seemed too paralyzed — or too thrilled — to leave. With the guns on the floor in the back, Stimpy drove, Lorinda sat in the navigator’s seat. They were both dazed. Their hearts were still pounding. Lorinda finally spoke: “Where are we going?”
Silence.
“Tell me what’s going on!”
Stimpy gave her a stonefaced look. It took all his strength to show nothing. He said, “I don’t know,” and pressed down hard on the gas pedal.
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PREVIOUSLY in THE SPLIT!
Chapter One. In which we meet our heroine and her dainty little gun.
Chapter Two. In which Lorinda demonstrates her bartending virtuosity.
Chapter Three. In which our heroine receives a promotion and prepares to celebrate.
Chapter Four. In which our heroine proves herself an immoral citizen of the CCSA.
Chapter Five. In which our heroine goes to church.
Chapter Six. In which Lorinda contemplates her future, ignores Pastor Doug, and gets something unexpected from Emmie.
Chapter Seven. In which Lorinda learns something that threatens her big dream.
Chapter Eight. In which our heroine freaks out.
Chapter Nine. In which our heroine says the forbidden word as an unwelcome visitor arrives.
Chapter Ten. In which two unpleasant men perturb our heroine.
Chapter Eleven. In which our heroine seems to have found a solution to her problem.
Chapter Twelve. In which that black truck follows our heroine all the way to Austin.
Chapter Thirteen. In which Lorinda lashes out.
Chapter Fourteen. In which our heroine gets a taste of life in the big city.
Chapter Fifteen. In which our heroine meets a fellow bartender and has a drink.
Chapter Sixteen. In which Lorinda once again takes a swing with her little pink gun.
Chapter Seventeen. In which our heroine prepares to escape.
Chapter Eighteen. In which our heroine gets in a truck with a couple of slightly scary strangers.
Chapter Nineteen. In which our heroine learns that she’s got a long way to go.
Chapter Twenty. In which our heroine spends a night in a gas station.
Chapter Twenty-One. In which our heroine learns about the enclaves of the CCSA.
Chapter Twenty-Two. In which our heroine learns way too much about the enclaves of the CCSA.
Chapter Twenty-Three. In which our heroine experiences liberty run amok.
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