Chapter 3: In the Shadow of the Valley
To the average wasteland resident, Mockingbird was virtually indistinguishable from most other settlements. Past the protective boundary of the perimeter wall (this one made of pre-cast concrete as opposed to the glorified barricades built from the rusted hulks of vehicles and/or shipping containers) that surrounded the former industrial park sat a gaggle of ramshackle houses built from the refuse of the old world such as cinder blocks, sheet metal, and scraps of timber.
Mystery Inc.'s van pulled up to Mockingbird's front gate and honked the horn.
"Who goes there?" a voice rasped from a nearby intercom speaker.
Daphne rolled down her window, leaned out, and pressed the button on the speaker.
"We're travelers in need of a mechanic, and we heard you people had a good one."
"Pull the other one, it has bells on it."
Time to roll out the big guns.
"We're those traveling gumshoes you've probably heard about."
"Why didn't you say so in the first place?! Come on in!"
There was a rumbling noise as the gate rose up, and the van soon drove inside.
"Well, this is certainly more…upscale than what I was expecting." Daphne said as she saw the settlement proper.
Velma blinked as she exited from the parked van. Scattered across the concrete were expanses of green space, many of them dominated by both apple and crabapple trees. Other such expanses were fenced in to form animal pens, the sounds of goats and pigs rising from said pens.
"Well, that's not something you see very often these days…" she said to nobody in particular.
"What isn't?" Shaggy asked.
"Full-grown fruit trees outside of an ag center."
"Impressed?" a woman's voice asked.
Velma, Shaggy, and Daphne turned around. Standing before them was a redheaded woman wearing a brown duster and blue jeans, with a sheriff's star pinned on said duster.
"Who are you?" Daphne asked.
"Call me Cinnamon. I'm- well, I'm the closest thing to a sheriff around here."
"What do you mean by 'closest thing'?" Velma asked.
"The last guy to hold the post managed to turn himself into buzzard food, and I managed to catch the mayor's eye by catching some cabrón who figured he could cut a sweetheart deal with a raider band by siphoning a few things from one of our outbound shipments. But the thing is, I won't officially be the sheriff 'till election time rolls around. Comprende?"
Shaggy, Daphne, and Velma all nodded.
"Good. Now, if what Jasper told me is true-"
"Like, who's Jasper?"
" The guy who let you in. Anyways, if what he told me is true, you need your ride fixed, correcto?"
"Yes." Velma replied.
Cinnamon pointed in the direction of the gate.
"Garage is on the right, next to the weigh station."
"You hear that, Fred?" Daphne asked.
"Got it."
Daphne then turned back to face Cinnamon.
"So, what's there to do around here?" she asked.
"Depends on what you're looking for, señorita. Though if you'll excuse me for bragging, our little burg's one of the more…cultured settlements in this neck of the woods."
"Define 'cultured'."
"There's a theater in the more upscale part of town- used to be where the employees lived back when. Owner's a bit weird, but she can sure put on a show, whether live or a movie. Of course, if you're looking for something a bit more rough-and-tumble, then I recommend you swing by Gooseman's for a few drinks and games of chance. And if that don't float your boat, then we've got a pretty good marketplace."
Daphne perked up.
"What've you guys got?"
" Some of the finer things in life- 'gator skin boots, chili sauce, chili powder, genuine coffee and chocolate, liquor that's actually good, musical instru-"
"Say no more!" Mystery Inc.'s resident redhead gleefully exclaimed.
"Um, Daph, how do you expect to pay for those things? We're low on valuables as is-" Velma began.
"Well, there's a way to get a discount." Cinnamon said.
"Like, what do we have to do?" Shaggy asked.
Cinnamon winced.
"To put it nicely, you're going to have to give blood."
"What." Velma said.
"From what I've heard, it's something the mayor's had going on since she took office about…oh, four, five years ago. Apparently, it's some kind of tax- all residents give a pint every few weeks, unless they've got some kind of blood-borne illness."
"Can you, like, take us to see this mayor so we can, like, figure out what the deal is behind this 'blood tax'?"
"Just leave your weapons at the door and don't try anything funny unless you want a hole between your eyes."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Cinnamon is the name of two different DC characters- a gunslinger from the Wild West named Katherine "Kate" Manser (one of the many reincarnations of the ancient Egyptian princess Chay-Ara, who would eventually reincarnate as Shiera Sanders aka the Golden Age version of Hawkgirl), and then a modern gunslinger who was named after the one from the Old West. Needless to say, the one presented here is the latter.
