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Dump Miner - Chapter Fourteen
Reagan Walker has a talk with his son.


It is late afternoon in the middle of a marsh like forest. A low-lying fog covers the ground, still wet from the rainfall earlier in the day. Other than the sound of an occasional bird, making its nest in one of the nearby trees, only the tall grasses and cattails make murmuring sounds.

The peaceful serenade is broken with the arrival of determined steps squishing through the moist forest floor. Today, the supreme Reagan Walker and his son John Walker are out in the woods on a hunting trip. These yearly trips have been a Walker family tradition for generations. Several secret service agents stand guard around them.

John Walker (raising his rifle and pretending to shoot in the air):
This is so boring. Do we have to stay out here all night?

Reagan Walker:
Just until necessary.

John Walker:
What does that mean? And why did you force me to go on this stupid hunting trip? I could be out with my friends.

Reagan Walker:
Your so-called cohorts are nothing more than leaches.

John Walker:
Well, at least they are there when I need them, unlike you.

Reagan Walker:
Watch your tongue.

The Reagan Walker looks at his son intently. Other than the fact that they have at least thirty years between them, his son is indeed his spitting image. They both have ashen blonde hair, his carefully parted to one side, and his son’s, much longer and tousled in the wind. They both have steel blue eyes, a “gift” from the Walker lineage. They both have high cheekbones, aquiline noses, and thin lips. Their broad foreheads denote the wisdom passed down from generations; and their almost square faces have strong jawlines, commanding respect. But that’s where the comparison stops. While he has a broad shoulder, his son’s are weak and narrow. While his gait is always military-like, his son’s are languid and feeble. Wearing the signet ring which bears the Reagan coat of arms, he always dresses in the Reagan tradition of formality and decorum. His son, however, chooses to garb himself entirely different, and as such, has been looked down upon by the Ultra Republicans, much to the shame of Americo.

John Walker:
Let’s get the hell out of here. If you want to do something together, let’s go to a club. It could be fun.

Reagan Walker (to his secret service men):
Would you please give us some private time? I would like to talk to my son alone for a moment.

Secret Service:
Where would you like us to be?

Reagan Walker:
We will meet you back at the camp. Just meet us there. I think this trip will soon be over.

The secret service agents start to walk back to the camp.

John Walker:
Man, I thought they would never leave.

John Walker pulls a small vial out of his coat pocket and sniffs it. The Reagan Walker slaps it from his hand.

Reagan Walker:
What the hell do you think you’re doing?

John Walker:
The same thing I do every night.

Reagan Walker:
Where did you get that?

John Walker:
Your private stash, where else? Was I supposed to offer it to you first?

Reagan Walker hangs his head and slowly raises it.

Reagan Walker:
Do you realize how important your place in society is?

John Walker:
Duh. I am the son of the C.E.O. of the World.

Reagan Walker:
And what does that mean to you.

John Walker:
I am bullet proof, what else? I am untouchable. I can do what ever I want; I get whatever I want; I am god. Damn that is good shit.

Reagan Walker slaps his son across the face.

John Walker:
Hey!

Reagan Walker:
Look at me, a great responsibility comes with being Reagan and when I am gone you will have to carry on the legacy.

John Walker:
I am ready.

Reagan Walker :
I don’t think you are.

With that the Reagan Walker points his rifle at his son.

John Walker:
Stop joking around. Come on dad, what are you doing?

Reagan Walker:
This is too important; I have to know that you are willing to change. Are you willing to rise to the position and be the man I know you can be? Are you man enough to do what has to be done!

John Walker quickly raises his rifle and points it at his father, the Reagan Walker, and pulls the trigger. “Click,” no bullets.

Reagan Walker:
Did you think I was going to put live ammo in a drug addict’s gun? Goodbye, John. I love you; I wish you could have made me proud.

The Reagan’s secret service men are almost near the camp when they suddenly hear a loud bang. It is a gunshot. The secret service men stop in their tracks, turn and rush back. They find the Reagan standing over his dead son. The Reagan looks at them. His face shows no emotion.

Reagan Walker:
Hunting accident. Call for air support.

 

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