End of the World, Start of My Empire novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: Throne of Scrap

They built the chair out of what was left of Haskell's pump.

Bria did it in two nights, with Hallie holding the light and a welding torch that ran on nothing but her amber cuff.

It was an ugly seat of bent axles and gear teeth, with a flywheel for a back.

It stood on a dais of railroad ties in the middle of the Yard.

It was meant for me.

The council met on the third morning.

The gate captain was there with his tin badge, and the tall laundry woman with the paddle, and the old man with the white beard.

So was the thin boy who had once held a welding torch, standing at the back with his head down.

Four hundred more filled the square.

"We've talked all night," said the old man. "We want you to rule, Nolan Greer. You and nobody else."

"Boss," said the laundry woman. "You've earned it."

I looked at the chair.

Then I looked at the three women standing behind me.

"I'll take it on one condition," I said.

"Name it."

"There are four chairs."

Nobody spoke.

"You saw who paid for the water," I said.

"You saw who stood on the road when the Governor came. If I sit, they sit, and every law goes through four hands."

"There's only one chair," said the gate captain.

"Then build three more."

Bria grinned.

She had known I would say it.

Behind a stack of crates, three more seats of scrap stood waiting, and two of them were already welded to the dais.

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