“I am a military man if you couldn’t tell by the pictures on the walls.  I am told of a nuclear conflict that happened a couple of hundred years ago.  When I first joined the military, the radiation levels had finally dropped enough that people could go outside again.  It was also the same time that the Central Hub really began to take on its current governmental form.  I hear there are five primary figures that make all of the final political decisions.  I knew as a young lad that I did not want to be one of those decision makers.  I wanted to be the leader who enforced the decisions made by this group of men.  These men are said to have a very strict list of requirements to be on this panel.  I may be smart, but I am not nearly as smart as they are.  In fact, there was a man who lived a very long time ago from where my ancestors came from, a place called Deutschland.  His name, I believe, was Einstein, or something.  This man, Einstein, was considered to be one of the smartest and most intelligently superior minds of the time.  These men who are now in charge of running the show are said to make Einstein look like a toddler in intelligent thought.” Machete Max found himself in a state of thoughtful admiration.  “I will tell you, Jim, that I am most pleased by your presence here.  It is about time that someone were to recognize that we do not have all of the necessary supplies at this outpost to continue providing the precious minerals needed for the city.”

Precious minerals? Jim thought to himself.  Had he just learned through no significant effort what this outpost was for? His curiosity begged him to find out more.

“I completely understand, Major Burnside.” Jim began to say.

“Please, simply call me Max.  You and I are one in the same.  Soldiers in an ever growing army.  Protectors of the future.  I would say that we are on a first name basis.” Max insisted, sincerity in his voice.

The rain outside picked up more as a flash of lightning lit up the darkened room.

“I do apologize for the lighting, if you’ll excuse me for a moment, Jim.” Max said, standing up again.

Machete Max walked over to a shelf on the wall and picked up a pack of matches.  He sparked the match and lit a tall candle sitting in a holder.  Max then brought that candle over to the table and sat back down.

“The storms in this area always cause the light of the sun to be lost earlier than anyone would like it to.  This candle should suffice.”

Another flash of lightning lit up the entire room, casting both silhouettes against the front wall of the building.

“I should tell you Jim.  I do not want this to be uncomfortable for you to hear, but you remind me of my son.” Max said, smiling to himself.

Jim didn’t know how to react to this sudden revelation, Machete Max had a son?

“He went missing a few years ago.  He was presumed dead.  No one has seen him, at least not to my knowledge, so I have no cause to believe otherwise.  I suppose there is still some hopeful part of me that he’s out there somewhere.  He was also a soldier, and he was being prepped to take my place one of these days.  He was a wild one, I’ll give him that.  His name was Wilhelm, Wilhelm Henrich Burnside, I always just called him Will for short.  He would be about your age as well.” Max recalled, again reminiscing.

Machete Max sat there deep in memorial thought when a strong gust of wind blew in through the window and extinguished the candle, breaking Max’s memory trance.

“Damned wind.” He exclaimed, striking another match and relighting the candle.  “Anyway, tell me more about yourself Jim.  I am curious to know just how closely like my son you are.  It could make your stay here even more comfortable for both of us.”

Machete Max now focused his attention squarely on Jim.  Jim could see the desire in his eyes.  There was an obvious desire to reconnect with his son on some type of level.  In fact, Jim was almost suspiciously convinced that Max might be holding on to his memory of his son, and Jim’s presence a little too closely.

“There really isn’t much to tell, Major Burnside, sorry, Max.” Jim corrected himself quickly.  He wanted to be on Max’s good side without getting too chummy with the man.  “I’ve never been married, I have no children.  Work takes up a majority of my time, far too busy with work for any kind of personal life.” 

Machete Max closed his eyes and nodded his head very intentionally.

“I know that feeling all too well.  My own wife, ex-wife, was only with me for a few years after our son Will was born.  It seems the military life was simply too much for her to handle, too lonely I suppose.  I can’t really blame her either.  I was away from home far more often than I was there.  She had given me a son, and she couldn’t take the loneliness that came with my life.  Being away for months on end then returning only for a few weeks.  She wanted more.  It was the kind of ‘more’ that I couldn’t give her.  Unfortunately she also complained that I brought my work home with me.  That I was too demanding.  When your whole life is in the military, and maintaining a military bearing, love isn’t shown very often in a way that is satisfactory.  One day, she confronted me and demanded that I give her a divorce.  I wasn’t crazy about the idea, but I understood why. We made a deal that night that she wasn’t very crazy about either.  I told her, if she wanted a divorce that badly, I would grant it on one condition.  I took my son, and she could have everything else.   I’ll never forget her response to that. ‘Over my dead body’, she said.  If I'm being honest, I do not accurately remember what happened after that.  I must have blacked out.  I only remember waking up to find her lifeless body on the floor, surrounded by a pool of her own blood, and a machete in her hand.  I had blood on myself as well, and a slash mark across my chest.  I wish I could tell you what transpired that night, but I can’t.  The authorities were called and it was determined that she attempted to kill me as her fingerprints were the only ones found on the blade.  I was found by the military court to have been innocent, and that she believed me to be deceased then took her own life in her grief over what happened.  Perhaps it’s best that I don’t remember the events of that night.  I took my son, gave him a great life, and that was all there was to it until he went missing.” Machete Max lowered his head.

Jim couldn’t be sure, but he thought, even for a moment, that he saw a tear being shed by this maniac before him.  Jim knew he was a psycho, everyone did, but somehow, in this moment, he seemed to actually be human, vulnerable.

“I’m truly sorry that all of that happened to you, Max.” Jim responded, knowing that it was the only real response he could give that would sound even remotely genuine.  Jim was at a true loss for words.  “I don’t mean to be rude, Max, but it is getting kind of late and I have a big day tomorrow inspecting your outpost.” Jim said, in an attempt to break the awkward silence between them.

Machete Max coyly wiped the tear drop from his eye and looked back up at Jim.

“My apologies, Jim.  I, of course, did not mean to keep you up this late.  By all means, inspect every square inch of the place.  I am convinced that you will find everything up to the standard you’re looking for.  I will have Father Edward accompany you.  He has a good rapport with the volunteers.  He can keep you protected in areas where safety is of the utmost concern.” Machete Max reassured, standing up from his chair.

Jim stood up almost in unison with him.  By now the storm outside seemed to have leveled itself off.  The wind blew in from the window again, once again extinguishing the candle on the table.  The smoke from the candle gently rising up, leaving a mild waxy aroma that intermingled with the very pleasant scent of cedar.  

Jim was guided back to the door.  Machete Max pulled a folded object from a nearby closet.

“Take this if you wish, it will shield you from the rain.” Machete Max casually said, presenting an old coat.

Jim was about to tell him no thanks until he noticed initials on the collar, W.H.B.

“Please take it, it used to belong to my son. I was holding it for safekeeping.  As the years drag on, it seems less and less likely that I will be seeing him again.  In your travels, it seems that you have a higher likelihood of perhaps running into him.” Machete Max spoke, a deep sense of lamented longing in his tone.

Jim took the jacket, for fear that refusing such a gift would be taken as an insult.  That wasn’t something that he was prepared to do, at least, not right now.

“Thank you, Max.  I’ll treat this jacket like gold.” Jim spoke, reassuringly.  Noticing the faint hint of a gracious smile underneath all of Max’s military bearing.

Jim left the building and stepped out into the weather stricken night sky.  A moderate flow of rain, falling onto the walkway below him.  Jim wrapped himself in the jacket, slipping his arms into the sleeves one by one.  The jacket fit him surprisingly well, and it was very warm as well.  The wind seemed incapable of penetrating the leather now binding him.  A flash of lightning in the distance lighted his path before him.  The silhouette of the tower he had to climb down standing ominously against a backdrop of tall trees and the nearby lake.  The faint red glow of a lit cigarette from a guard that had given him a single glance when he first walked out, now staring out into a desolate night. Jim briefly turned to look into the general direction of where he and Sam and staked the place out. He was reminded that it would only be a couple of days until he had to make or break on an escape plan.  He could only hope that Sam was going to hold true to his word.  

Jim turned back toward the tower and began walking back to his little bedroom.  Each step lightly splashing in the accumulated rain water.  He had to find out everything he could about the place tomorrow.  He wasn’t certain how honest he could be about his intentions with Father Edward accompanying him.  He openly talked of rebellion in his brief conversation.  Granted, he was referring to the bible, so he could have just been speaking in general, but that look.  Father Edward was trying to say something that he was not freely allowed to speak.  He would know more the following day, for now it was time for this day to end. Jim traveled back to his bed in no particular rush, almost enjoying the weather at this point. There was something almost cleansing about the rain, purifying.