>>6144922The filtering of diesel kept the group occupied in waiting, it could not be sped up, in their estimations, as the used oil had to drip through the filter paper by gravity. The men took to killing the ghouls outside by lancing them through loopholes and watching for the crowd to thin out enough to go out and check over the possessions and dispose of the bodies. They found junk and some useful trinkets and some ammunition. How the Merchant made any profit from these creatures was a mystery, but they speculated openly about him.
>He is a mere trickster.The slav opined
>he has us do the dirty jobs to move his warehouse of goods from one place to another, clearing the way, and he makes his returns from usury.>no, noInsisted Andy
>he does not loan anything, and does not adjust his rates, even by a percent. He uses round figures, and keeps his prices stable. I think he is a socialist.>socialism? Never!Insisted Ray
>i've met socialists, and he is no socialist. I think he is a religious fanatic, a do-gooder, even a madman. He permits any eliment of traditional society, so long as it is nostalgic. He never once told us what to do, or asked us our business, or demanded anything. He just asked if we wanted to sell anything. Only a kook would act that way. A nice kook, but a kook. >nah, he's just civilized is all.And that's all you said to them. They could take it or leave it. You were feeling better than you had been, and spent much of your daytime hours watching the horizon for the return of the helicopter, another passtime which ran in shifts. However, after taking refuge, in the helicopter's absence, you'd not seen the thing in three days.
Andy had gone heavy on buying pecans from the farmer and had rationed them out. He traded alike with you and the others, and between that and some canned food you'd found a few days earlier, it was not desperate.
You'd dinished filtering diesel and installing a reserve tank inside the ambulance, and chose unanimously, though not without some discussion, to continue searching for Mike.
>we've been out long enough we might be overdue.>you get a workin' radio and we'll check in tomorrow.So the next day, in the dark, due to paranoia about the copter, you all loaded up and left out from the garage, still trying to head eastward. You manned the CB, and tried checking in.
>hey there, uh, merchant man. This is the undertaker, and we's still doin alright. Lookin' for what you said. Over.It didn't take too long before you heard other voices, some malevolent, some disingenuous, and some obsequious, but the merchant was not among them.
The most memorable voice acted offended, as though you'd insulted him, and claimed to be a Navy Seal, and threatened to kill you all, but of the many strange responses, this one seemed to bother you the least.
Mike gave no response, so far as you could tell, and so you figured to drop the business of reassuring your employer, when you were contacted by the helicopter.
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