“Do you even know what that means?” the kid asked.

  “It means I own 80 percent of the boats on this river. That’s what it means.”

  “Okay. Fine,” Caine said. “But Commodore to King is a pretty big leap.”

  “If you say so, Hollywood. But I am King of the River whether you believe it or not.”

  Caine had no problem acting tough once he realized no one was going to hit him. He crossed his arms, stuck out his chin and said, “Prove it.”

  Mason stared at the man for a tense silent moment before he stepped up to him. He towered over the actor. He didn’t say a word but planted one of the letters against the smaller man’s chest.

  Caine took the letter and Mason stepped away.

  “What’s this?” Caine asked.

  “Proof.”

  “How is this proof?”

  “Who is it addressed to?”

  Caine examined the envelope and read aloud. “King of the River. The river.”

  “There you have it,” Mason said. “It’s official if it goes through the post office. Just like that movie with Santa.”

  “So, what is all that?” Andy asked.

  Mason grunted. “Fan mail mostly.”

  “You know, I get my share of fan mail.” Caine said.

  Mason looked at the actor. “You don’t say?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then why don’t you read it and leave me the hell alone?” Mason held up several letters and turned to Jerry. “More job applications.” He chuckled and threw them overboard.

  Lana pointed at the letters in the water, “Hey, don’t just throw⁠—”

  “Shut up,” Mason said. “It’s my river.”

  “Job applications?” Dalton’s interest was piqued. “You get actual job applications?”

  “Sure. Until there’s a circus again, we’re the only game in town when it comes to running away. Well, me and Marco’s boys.”

  “I will say this is a relief,” Laura said. “We thought you were going to rob us.”

  “Rob you.” Mason roared with laughter. “I couldn’t rob you, ma’am. Robbing someone is taking something that doesn’t belong to them. Everything on this river belongs to me, Commodore Mark Mason, King of the River.”

  Laura shrank and Mason noticed the effect his boast had on the woman.

  “I’m teasing you, dear. You don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not going to rob you and besides, Captain Mike doesn’t get robbed.”

  “No?” Thomas Caine asked, “Why’s that?”

  “His rules. Didn’t he read ‘em to you. He doesn’t carry anything anyone wants. No guns. No drugs.”

  “What about kidnapping?” Caine asked.

  “No one’s going to kidnap you, Sweet Cheeks. Your movies aren’t that good.” Mason examined several more envelopes. “Besides, I’d hate to be the pirate that messes with ole Captain Mike here.”

  “And why is that?” Eve asked.

  “Don’t you know? Your captain here is a legitimate badass. He’s the big bad boatman of the Mississippi. He can outfight, outdrink, outrun, outswim, outshoot, out-gotdamn-swear, outsnore, outtalk and out-any-damn-thing anyone else on the entire Mississippi. ‘Cept me, of course, Commodore Mark Mason, King of the River.”

  Jerry laughed off the remarks as the passengers began reevaluating their pilot.

  Mason continued, “This little guy shows up out of nowhere some time back and starts kicking pirate ass and starts taking pirate names.”

  “That’s enough, Commodore,” Jerry said and turned the engine back on.

  “I’ve seen him take on seven men at once. While that dog of his took on three. A pirate would need a damn good reason to mess with him, that’s for sure. He’s probably the toughest thing on the river. ‘Cept me, of course, Commodore Mark Mason, King of the River!” He had the group’s undivided attention at this point and waved them closer as if he was about to share a secret. They all leaned in, but he didn’t bother whispering. “Some people even think he’s the Librarian himself, trying to live out a quiet life of anonymity on the river.”

  With this the passengers took a second look at the man they had hired to take them downriver.

  “And what do you think, Mason?” Jerry asked.

  Mason looked Jerry up and down for a moment. Then he slapped Jerry on the shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance. “You? You’re too damn scrawny to be the Librarian.”

  The King burst into laughter once more. “But I sure had them going. Didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, you had them going,” Jerry said as he directed Mason back to his own boat. “Now, your majesty, if you wouldn’t mind getting your royal ass off my boat. I’ve got a schedule to keep.”

  6

  The stretches between towns grew as the Boomer plodded downstream at a very unexciting pace in a very uninspiring silence. Eve watched the river roll along, unconcerned with their presence on it. Only the occasional boat coming upstream broke the monotony of the endless riverbanks.

  True to the Commodore’s word, almost every boat they passed flew a flag declaring the boat a part of Mason Shipping’s Fleet. Despite being a part of the fleet, each vessel was unique. They varied in size and design, naturally, but even similar vessels had been heavily customized by their captain and crew to better serve their individual purposes.

  Not every boat on the river was running passengers about. Many were shipping goods. It was a far cry from the days of towboats pushing a thousand plus feet of barges down the river, but crops were coming up, raw materials were going down and salvaged goods were going every which way as commerce took a hold on the country once more.

  Escort ships were a sizable part of the Commodore’s fleet, as few of the cargo ships went unescorted by a speedboat full of armed men that watched the Boomer with caution until they recognized Mike.

  For the most part, the other boats were friendly. The passengers exchanged waves and the captains traded salutes or blasts on the horns. But it was hardly an endless stream of traffic, and soon the boredom returned.

  “Let’s play a game,” Caine said after a lengthy period of silence.

  “I like games,” Fidget chirped, and bounded over to the actor’s feet. “I’m really good at fetch. Watch.”

  Fidget scrambled away with his feet all but pinwheeling on the fiberglass floor.

  Caine ignored the dog and pleaded with the other passengers. “C’mon. It will be fun.”

  “Yeah, but it won’t.” Connor seemed incapable of speaking in more than one tone. His voice simultaneously communicated how little he cared about what you had said, what an asshole you were for saying it, and how cool he was to hold this position about both you and your statement. It was as efficient as it was enraging.

  Thomas Caine stood up and walked to the back of the deck. “I promise it will be fun. It’s certainly better than staring at a whole bunch of nothing all day.”

  Fidget returned and dropped a stick at Caine’s foot. “See? I told you.”

  “I’ll play,” Laura said, and sat up straight on the bench with her hands in her lap.

  “Great, it’s called movie quotes and here’s how you play⁠—”

  “You have to guess the movie quote?” Connor droned.

  Caine lit up. “Oh, you’ve played before?”

  Connor sneered and looked away with an amplified expression of pure boredom. He turned his back on the passengers and stared back at the river.

  Fidget went to work on the stick.

  “I’ll get us started.” Caine stood up straight and waved a hand slowly over his face that erased his smile and left a neutral expression. He shook out his shoulders, danced a couple of steps and took a deep breath. It looked as if he was about to speak when he looked at the beagle. He bent down and took the stick from the dog’s mouth.

  “Hey,” Fidget growled. “I was fetching that!”

  Caine held the stick like a sword and his expression changed from blank to serious. He shouted as he spoke. “Hold your ground, hold your ground! People of West. My brothers in arms! I see in your eyes the same fear that would make any man run. And a day may come when our courage fails. It may be tomorrow. It may be many years from now. It may be some random Wednesday. But it is not today. It may be some random Wednesday when our walls fall, and the raiders conquer us! But it is not this day! Today we fight!”

  Caine blew out the rest of his breath and went almost limp. “Aaand, scene.”

  Lana applauded.

  Caine took a bow. “Thank you, Lana.”

  “Was that from that movie, what was it called?” Laura asked.

  “Yes, dear, that’s exactly the game we’re playing,” Andy said.

  “You know the one I mean. The one with all the guys in kilts.”

  “You’re thinking of Braveheart,” Dalton said. “But that bit was from Lord of the Rings.”

  “Good guess,” Caine said. “But, no.”

  “It sure sounded like it was,” Dalton said.

  “Any more guesses?” Caine asked with a smile. “Connor? Do you want to guess?”

  “Up yours.”

  “Okay. Captain Mike?”

  Jerry shook his head. “It thought it was Braveheart, too.”

  “I know,” Lana said with a raised hand.

  “Well, I would hope so!” Caine scolded her playfully. “But we need to let them guess.”

  Fidget guessed that it was called Fetch but aside from that, there were no other takers.

  “It’s my monologue from The Fall of West!” Caine’s smile was met with blank stares. “You know, when the raiders have gathered at the gates and the townspeople have finally come together with neighboring towns to face them?”

  “So, what was with the sword?” Dalton asked pointing at the stick.

  “It was a rifle.” Caine said.

  “It looked like a sword.”

  “Well, it was a rifle,” Caine said, and tossed the stick in the river.

  “Fetch!” Fidget yelled.

  “Fidget. No!” Eve shouted after the beagle, but it was too late.

  “I’ll stop the boat,” Jerry said, and stepped into the cabin.

  Dalton groaned.

  “I could have sworn that speech was from Braveheart,” Laura said. Then she pointed at Dalton. “Or the one you said.”

  “It was from both.” Eve stepped onto the swimming platform and waved to the beagle to swim back to the boat. “He stole lines from both.”

  “I didn’t steal anything.” Caine’s defiant laugh was more grating than his pandering laugh.

  “You came up with all of that yourself?” she asked.

  “It’s not stealing if everyone’s dead,” Caine explained.

  Eve pulled Fidget from the water by the stick then put a finger in his face. “Stay in the boat.”

  “But, fetch,” Fidget said and dropped the stick to the floor.

  Jerry returned to the pilot’s seat and the Boomer resumed its journey downriver.

  “Who’s next?” Caine asked. “Or should I go again since no one got it?”

  “I’m sorry,” Dalton said. “I’m confused. I thought these were supposed to be quotes from real movies.”

  “It was a real movie!” Caine snapped.

  Dalton stammered a reply. “I know, but I thought you meant movies that people have seen.”

  “Lots of people saw it!” Caine defended himself.

  Lana stood up beside him. “We sold out New Hope Theater, I’ll have you know.”

  “Thank you, Lana, that’s enou⁠—”

  “Twice!”

  “That’s… thank you, Lana, but let’s just forget it.” He leaned back against the rail and folded his arms. “I’d much rather hear your stories anyway. Like, you two,” he said pointed to Laura and Andy. “You’ve got everything but the kitchen sink on board. Where are you headed?”

  Laura pounced at the opportunity to pull out her letter. “We found our daughter!”

  “That’s great,” Caine said, and politely declined to look at the letter.

  “We got separated when the fit hit the shan, as kids like to say,” Laura said with a giggle, because swearing, even something this close, made her feel dangerous. “All this time, we thought we’d lost her. And you know what?”

  “What?” Caine asked, matching her enthusiasm.

  “We have a grandson! Can you believe it? Can you believe I’m a grandmother?”

  “Well, yeah, you’re really old,” Connor said without taking his eye off the river.

  “I told you, Laura,” Andy said. “No one is going to not believe it.”

  “Shut up, Andy,” she said with a playful slap.

  “So, you’re moving to be with the family,” Caine concluded. “That’s a wonderful story. What about you, Captain Briefcase?”

  “The name is Dalton.”

  “So, what’s your story, Dalton? What does the end of your movie look like?”

  “Me?” Dalton laughed as if it should be obvious to anyone paying attention. “I’m going to be the first post-apocalyptic billionaire.”

  Caine sat forward on the bench. “Well, that will certainly be a story worth telling. How are you going to manage that? Wait, are you the guy that finally got into Fort Knox? I heard it was empty.”

  “Nah, I’m a big idea person. I’m heading to Cairo to open my first franchise.”

  “So, what’s your big idea?”

  “Donuts.”

  “Oh my God, I loved donuts!” Lana said.

  “So, like Dunkin’ Donuts?” Laura asked.

  “No, not like Dunkin’ Donuts. We’re going to serve donuts and coffee and⁠—”

  “That sounds a lot like Dunkin’ Donuts.” Andy said.

  Dalton squinted at the older gentleman.

  “So, your big idea is Dunkin’?” Lana asked.

  “It’s not Dunkin’, it’s different, it’s… look, it’s just the start, okay?”

  “And you’re on me for stealing lines. You stole the donut shop.”

  “Donuts weren’t anyone’s idea to steal. All right? They’re just donuts. But I’m bringing them back because donuts make people happy. And happy people are going to make me rich.”

  “Are you going to do bagels, too?” Laura asked

  “No bagels.”

  “Why no bagels?”

  “I said I’m trying to bring joy back to the world, not bagels.”

  “Oh,” Laura said softly. “I liked bagels.”

  “But there’s no cream cheese,” Dalton said. “And cream cheese is the only reason people ever ate bagels to begin with. They’re just a delivery vehicle for spreads.”

  “You know what you could do,” Caine started. “And you can have this for free. You make a donut that’s only half a donut.”

  Dalton shook his head and chuckled before flatly saying, “No.”

  “Wait, hear me out. A lot of times there will be, like, a box of donuts for everyone. And I’ve always tried to watch my waistline, so I would cut a donut in half and leave half a donut for someone else. So, if you made a donut that’s only half a donut, I think people would like that.”

  “You have no idea what you did, do you?” Dalton asked.

  Caine looked confused and tried to say so but Dalton cut him off.

  “Of course, you don’t. How could you? You’re so unbelievably selfish that the truth doesn’t even register to you, does it?”

  “First of all, hey. Second, what truth are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t leave a half a donut for someone else. You took half of someone’s donut! Because you’re watching your figure, you denied someone what was rightfully theirs.”

  “It was just a donut.”

  “Exactly. A donut is a unit of measurement. It is a single thing. When the next person came up to that box, lured by the sweet smell of the sugary goodness, do you think they saw your handy work and thought, “Oh, how kind of someone to leave me half a donut. Obviously, their concern was for my hunger. I’ll eat that half donut; it should sate half my craving.” Or do you think they maybe said, “Son of a bitch! Some son of a bitch stole half of my motherfucking donut!?” Dalton was foaming at the mouth now, heaving and generally frightening everyone.

  “Dude. I’m sorry. I’ll only buy whole donuts from your store.”

  “Oh, like you’ll be welcome in my store, you selfish prick.”

  “Will you have sprinkles?” Andy asked to break the tension.

  “Why don’t you all just leave me alone, huh? What about her?” Dalton pointed at Eve. “She’s got a talking dog and you’re pestering me about my story?”

  Lana’s hand shot up. “I would love to hear her story.”

  Everyone silently agreed and turned to face her.

  “So, what is it you do, Eve?” Caine asked.

  Eve laughed and looked away. All the attention was a bit much. She wasn’t interested in telling her story at first, but she looked at their faces and saw a genuine interest. What the hell? Everyone else had gone. “I’m what people call a post-apocalyptic nomadic warrior.”

  “No way,” Caine said in disbelief.

  “Like the Librarian?” Lana asked.

  Eve tried not to show her fatigue with the comparison. She turned it into another shrug. “He basically did what I do, yeah.”

  “Wow,” Caine said. “You must think I’m a total loser.”

  Eve responded by rocking her hand back and forth. It would be taken as a joke, but she didn’t mean it that way. She saw Lana smile at the gesture.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Laura interrupted. “What is it that you do?”

  “She’s a hero for hire,” Caine explained. “A hired gun. Like a mercenary but only for the good guys.”

  “That’s not really what it is.” Eve said.

  “Yes, it is. They’re badasses. They wander the wasteland looking for people in need of help.”

  Laura lit up. “Well, that’s a wonderful thing to do.”

  “They fight mutants and raiders,” Caine went on. “They topple tyrants.”

  “Well, we can’t all topple tyrants,” Eve clarified.

  “You must think I’m a total loser,” Caine said.

  “You said that already,” Lana said.

  “Yeah, but somebody stepped on her line and I wanted to give her a chance to argue.”