Copyright Tyler Danann
Old Galt stood over six feet tall with beaming hazel-green eyes.
This day though did not see him take up his usual despondent manner in the ramparts of Gelstown.
Instead, as evening moved to night-time he had the people loyal to him and his cause gather round.
He laid out his plan, as he started he remembered what had brought them to stage a breakout.
For too long now the place of Gelstown had changed, not a change for the better. It had gone from comfortable confines, to smothering regulations and
finally to a walled-prison.
First the town’s leader, Ferdez had been accepting and friendly, especially appreciating the supplies and skills the newcomers had brought with
In turn the newcomers found the sanctuary, with its walled perimeter and ditches ample defence against the nomadic raider bands who still preyed on
For Galt and his followers the first three months were as much a relief as they were exciting. For the items that had seemed as much elusive as they
had been a luxury were now much closer to hand and obtainable.
Three times a band of tenacious raiders struck Gelstown. Three times they were repelled. The last time with heavy losses. Old Galt himself being
slightly wounded at the last clash.
It had been nearly a season after ‘The Fall’ and, as Galt had feared, the new-civilisation that would rise out of the ashes of the old one was not
altogether benevolent. The old mentality’s and prejudice’s Galt had hoped would be burned away for fresher, more in-tune ways to blossom still
For while Galt’s wounded shoulder mended, a cancer that would not die rotted at the heart of Gelstown.
Ferdez, a likeable man was trusted by Galt’s people.
As he was originally one of the surviving town’s council men he took the reluctant leadership of the town.
Instead of being a commander first and decisive in the way Gelstown would go in this brave new world Ferdez instead took the softly approach.
Commendable in winning favour but also instrumental in devolving powers to dozens of his favourites. These became known as Magistrates and Galt was
quick to recognise the true power behind Gelstown.
Galt himself, before The Fall of Technology, was caught exposed on the highway, leading his few people to the mountain haven.
He cursed himself for not organising a leaving a few weeks earlier, but last minute temptation’s for more this and that had delayed him.
By the time they’d managed only fifty miles distance ‘The Changing’ occurred and their once reliable machines were powerless hunks of metal.
Rocked to the core by his failure Galt squared his shoulders and shouldered his pack.
Too far to trek into the mountains, they being over a hundred miles away.
The maps showed Gelstown was only ten miles distant and, fighting off raiders and marauders several times, his band of fifty survived to live another
What they survived, Galt realised, was to swop the enemy without, for an enemy within.
Much more secretive and insidious, ideologically opposed to the spirit of freedom and the flame of insight.
His first fear was realised when several ‘covenants’ were passed by order of the ‘Magistrates Council’.
All short weapons and side-arms were to be centrally pooled in the town armoury. Galt himself, although no master of arms, knew to be wrong and
argued bitterly argued with the Magistrates.
All attempts to speak directly with Ferdez were prevented. Few saw much of him after a mystery illness left him weak and near-bedridden.
By force of will and his arguing Galt won a compromise to have a handful of designated folk as ‘trusted-armsmen’ but the rest had to comply. Some
of the wily ones did not and craftily kept any future arms-carrying either out of sight or within their shed-houses.
They had to be careful though, as a Magistrate would present a ‘door paper’, ‘allowing’ entry into their dwelling to ‘second check’ for
anything that might have been ‘missed’.
edit on 23-12-2012 by WatchRider because: edit of align
edit on 23-12-2012 by
WatchRider because: copyw.