The After War

by Brandon Zenner

  “My father …” There was anger in Nick’s voice, but he didn’t say anything further.

  After a pause, Nick continued. “Who is it that we’re executing tomorrow? Who are those people you brought in?”

  “They’re of no consequence to you.”

  “They are of consequence to me. This is my town, Karl. Don’t for a second forget that.”

  Karl lightened his voice and spoke in an amused manner. “Of course, Sir General. Please, let me explain. The men are nothing more than prisoners we’ve captured from previous campaigns. Awful human beings who deserve the punishment they are going to receive.”

  “And they’re admitting that they planned the attack themselves—how the hell did you manage that?”

  “I offered them fruitful promises,” Karl answered. “They were made to think that Alice was much smaller in size than it is and that freedom could be achieved if their valor was displayed on the battlefield. We accept many of our conquered foes among our ranks. Any whom we deem as a potential threat we simply kill or keep around to serve us otherwise—the men do need their playthings, you know. We told these derelicts that if they went along with the plan, put up with a beating, and admitted their guilt, they would be whisked back to safety and either promoted to the brotherhood of the Red Hands or given the opportunity to leave as free men. Many of my best soldiers earned their ranks in similar fashion.”

  “But you’re going to kill them?”

  “Correction. We’re going to kill them. Not all of my men get promoted in this method, only some. Do not pity these miscreants. They are slime. They are filth. They have fought against and killed many of my men … your men, now.”

  “What if they don’t go along with the plan? What if they don’t confess?”

  “What does it matter?” Karl’s voice sounded whimsical. “Just tell the people that they offered their full confession. Case closed.”

  Nick sighed and then mumbled, almost to himself, “In the long run, I know in my heart that this will be in Alice’s best interest. I know that I can lead this town to greatness.” He sighed again. “Alice will be the capital of the world one day; I’m sure of it. I suppose it’s unavoidable to dirty one’s hands in order to achieve such progress.”

  “Good then,” Karl said. “It warms my heart to hear you speak so candidly. We will become good friends, Sir Nicholas, I assure you. We will accomplish great things together.”

  “I can never forgive you for killing my father … but …” His voice lowered. “I see why you did what you had to do. But listen, no more secrets. If we’re going to make this work—you and me—no changes in plan. You tell me everything.”

  “Yes, General Byrnes.” A chair scraped against the floor. “No more secrets, I promise. Shake on it.” There was a muffled noise and then the sound of footfalls falling over the cement floor.

  ***

  Jeremy turned off the recorder.

  Simon spoke.

  “In light of what we’ve just heard, we know that our mistrust in Karl and his men is legitimate. Our little meetings in the garden are too feeble an attempt to stop the momentum that the Red Hands and Nick have begun. However, it may still be feasible to change the course of events. The army of the Red Hands and Nick’s Dragoons combined don’t outnumber Zone Red’s soldiers. Karl and Nick would be insane to attack without a much larger army.”

  Will shook his head, and his voice choked out, “There’re more coming … many more. An army’s worth.”

  Everyone looked at Will, and Jeremy spoke. “How many?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve heard them talking, Nick and Karl. The Red Hands have an army, several hundred, maybe thousands, I don’t know. They’re locusts, these guys. They attack and kill and take everything they can before moving on to the next target. Their plan was to gain our trust and destroy Alice from the inside, quickly, and then attack Zone Red with an overwhelming and unexpected force. They’re aware that General Driscoll has spies among them and knows their numbers here in Alice, but the general knows nothing of the army that’s set to arrive, and would never suspect a horde of men flooding his gates. If caught off guard, Zone Red couldn’t hold out, even if they have superior soldiers.”

  “Oh, Christ,” Bethany said, her fingers covering her mouth.

  Jeremy shook his head. “Zone Red wouldn’t be fast enough to mobilize the firepower to stop a force that size if they’re caught unaware. They have some tanks and artillery, but that’s about it.”

  Simon stared straight ahead, his mind whirling. He tried to stop and focus his breath.

  What do we do … what do we do?

  Then ideas began piecing together in his head like a jigsaw puzzle forming a vast picture of the future. He took a deep breath and said, “I have an idea.”

  Everyone turned to him.

  “This doesn’t leave the room.”

  He looked about, and everyone nodded. Jeremy said, “Nothing we’ve discussed leaves the room.”

  “I know how Zone Red can better arm itself and prepare for an attack. I stumbled on a place a long time ago along my journey to Alice. A field deep in the woods full of tanks, helicopters, and a warehouse stocked with ammunition. Everything was new, still in boxes. Dozens of vehicles. The army guarding it had died of the disease.”

  Jeremy’s eyes opened wide. This was the first Simon had ever mentioned this.

  “Where?”

  “In a park—Livingston Park, in a town named Sullivan. It’s not far, about halfway between here and Zone Red and a bit to the west. I’ll show you on a map.”

  “Do you think it’s still there?”

  Simon shrugged. “I don’t know. But it hadn’t been touched in a long while when I was there. All you would need is fuel and trained soldiers to operate the vehicles, and that’s something Zone Red has plenty of.”

  Bethany spoke up. “We have to get out of here. If Karl’s army is expected any time, we have to warn Uncle Al—I mean, General Driscoll—now. We can’t wait any longer.”

  “No, we can’t,” Jeremy agreed. “You, Bethany, have to leave right away. You have friends arriving from Zone Red on tomorrow’s supply run, right?”

  Bethany nodded.

  “Then you’re leaving with them, and you’re taking the recording with you.”

  Will shook his head. “That’s too risky. They’re checking everyone coming in and out of the border for contraband. We can’t risk letting both the recorder and the general’s niece fall into the enemy’s hands at the same time.”

  “Fine, then,” Jeremy continued. “We’ll split Bethany and the recorder up. Simon can sneak past the front line without a problem, can’t you, Simon? If anybody can, it would be you.”

  “Well … yes, I’m sure I could.”

  “Then this is what we’re going to do. Bethany, you’re leaving on tomorrow’s supply run. You’ve gone across the lines dozens of times; is there a safe way to get you out?”

  Bethany thought it over and answered. “I think I could do it. I could forge a letter saying that I’m assigned to go on the next trade run. I know the exact wording on the paperwork, and it’s all handwritten. Once I’m there and unloading boxes, I’ll talk to my old coworkers from Zone Red and explain the urgency of the situation. I still have my Zone Red credentials, so I’ll blend in when they’re exiting and leave with them. It would be just like any other supply run.”

  “That’s not a bad plan, but it’s still risky,” Jeremy said. “I trust your judgment on how to proceed.”

  Bethany nodded.

  “Tomorrow night,” Jeremy continued, “Simon will sneak over the front line with the voice recorder. You, Beth, have to speak to your uncle as soon as you get to Zone Red so they expect Simon’s arrival. When General Driscoll hears the recording, he’ll have no option but to act fast. In the meantime, Will and I will try our best to rally the people, get our hands on some weapons, and get the children and elderly into hiding.”

  Everyone was silent. It wasn’t a bad
plan. It was the best plan they would come up with at that late hour. Simon had no doubt that he could sneak past the guards and out of town at night.

  “All right,” Simon said. “Jeremy, you’ll have to watch Winston while I’m gone.” He sighed. “All I ever wanted was to make it home safe.”

  “You will.” Bethany reached out and rubbed the top of Simon’s hand. “You will, Simon. I’m sure of it. But your journey isn’t over yet.”

  Chapter 47

  Late Hours

  “How can nobody know anything?” Carolanne was frustrated.

  “I’m sure someone knows something, but they ain’t talking.”

  “Did you talk to Pat O’Hern?”

  “Pat wasn’t there. There was nobody at the trade ground I recognized.”

  Carolanne huffed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

  “Do you think it’s still safe?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I asked all around Hightown, and everyone’s tight-lipped.”

  “The soldiers probably aren’t allowed to give details.”

  “Probably not.”

  “So, what do we do? Do we leave tomorrow?”

  “Look, this is what we do know: General Byrnes was killed, his son took power, and he’s hired some outside mercenaries. Aside from that, we don’t know much.”

  “The timing of it all just seems strange.”

  “I reckon it’s plenty strange. With Tom’s death, the town is going through a change in policy. Maybe it’s nothing to get riled over.”

  Brian was tired. For over an hour they had been lying in bed, discussing whether or not to leave with the convoy team in the morning as planned. His eyes were now fully adjusted to the dark room. Carolanne had heard rumors at the hospital from doctors and nurses that daily life in Alice was getting rough. They said that Alice was on the verge of a revolution. But none of the soldiers had uttered a word, and Uncle Al had been too busy to talk.

  Brian yawned, and then said, “The revolution stuff could all be hearsay. People like to talk. Besides, Bethany is waiting for us. She’s counting on us to join her, and we’ve given her our word.”

  Carolanne seemed to think this over.

  “Yeah … I guess so.”

  Brian heard the trepidation in her voice. “If you’re nervous … maybe we should wait. If you think it could be dangerous, maybe we should ask around a bit more. We could try sending word down to Beth—”

  His words were cut short by a booming knock from the front door. Carolanne jumped and instinctively clung to his side.

  “Who is that?” she asked.

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  Brian swung his legs off the side of the bed. The knock repeated.

  “All right, all right. I hear ya.”

  “Brian—”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Brian took his robe from the door hook and was tying it around his waist as he looked through the peephole on the front door. He saw the face of a soldier staring back at him.

  Brian opened the door.

  “Brian Rhodes, sir?” the soldier asked.

  “Yes?” A car sat idling in the road behind the soldier.

  “Sir, I’ve been given orders to escort you to General Driscoll.”

  “What, now?” He looked again at the car.

  Carolanne came out from the bedroom, tying her robe around her waist.

  “Brian, who is it?”

  “I think, um,” he called back to her, “General Driscoll needs me.”

  “Actually,” the soldier cut in, “I’ve been ordered to escort both you and a Carolanne Rhodes to headquarters. Ma’am,” he bowed slightly to Carolanne.

  “Why? What’s the matter?” Carolanne stroked the smooth side of her ring at hearing her new last name.

  “Ma’am.” The soldier took a breath and relaxed his tone, seeming to remember that these were civilians he was talking to. “I’m sorry to have woken you both. My name is Sergeant Irons. The general asked me to escort you to headquarters. I’m one of his personal guards.”

  Brian recognized the man.

  “Okay … okay.” Brian was starting to wake up. “Do you know what this is about?”

  “Sir,” Sergeant Irons said, “all he said was that you’re needed urgently and that he has reason to believe a certain Bethany Rose might be in harm’s way. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but he didn’t elaborate.”

  Brian turned in a hurry. “Let me get some clothes on.”

  Chapter 48

  Askew

  Will Holbrook left after several hours of planning, and Bethany sat at the table, hunched over in concentration, forging the paperwork she would need in only a few hours. When she was done and a dozen sheets of paper lay in a crumbled heap, she showed Simon and Jeremy the final product. They passed the papers back and forth.

  “This is good,” Jeremy said, squinting at the writing. “I wouldn’t know that this is a forgery.”

  They then went through their belongings together, counting weapons and ammunition. They had ample firepower to arm themselves, and Jeremy had several thin, police-style bulletproof vests, enough for each of them. They decided that it was best, from here on out, to be prepared for the worst. Since firearms were outlawed, they would carry concealed pistols only.

  The empty coffee cups on the table were cold, and the first rays of sunlight were fast approaching. Jeremy stood from a chair in the living room, where they had circled around the displayed arsenal. “We need to call it quits,” he said. “There are a few hours left until morning, so I suggest we try and shut our eyes.”

  Simon and Bethany nodded from the couch, their eyelids heavy.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” Jeremy shook his head, walking toward his room. “This has been a hell of a night.”

  He closed the door behind him, and all at once the apartment became eerily quiet.

  “I’m so tired I’m starting to tremble,” Bethany said, her legs curled up to her chest under a throw blanket.

  Simon sat next to her on the couch, his head reclined and his eyes puffy slits.

  “I know what you mean. We should go to bed.”

  “I don’t think I can sleep.”

  “Yeah … I hear you.”

  Winston slept curled in a ball on the rug by Simon’s feet, his breathing the only noise in the room. Then Simon heard a gentle humming sound.

  “Beth?” He turned to her. “You okay?”

  She was crying.

  “I’m just tired.”

  Simon reached over and rubbed her arm. Bethany wiped her eyes and sat up on the couch. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

  “Hey, I’m scared too. Terrified.”

  Bethany shook her head. “I’m not scared ….”

  Simon put his arm around her shoulder, and she accepted, resting her head on his chest and curling back up.

  “I have complete faith in you,” he said. “You’re going to wake up tomorrow and do what has to be done. You’re going to be fine.”

  Bethany nodded against Simon’s shoulder, and he felt the warmth of her tears.

  Jesus, he thought. We have to succeed. And then his next thought was, Her hair smells incredible. My God …

  Bethany nodded. “You’re a good person, Simon. You’ve been really good to me.” Her eyes were shut, and she didn’t move from where she sat curled against his body. Simon stretched his legs out on the couch beside her and pulled the throw blanket over their bodies. They lay curled together in the dark room, holding each other, listening to Winston’s deep breathing.

  Feeling the heat from Bethany’s body pressed against his own was making Simon’s heart pick up speed. They had shared so much together within a short period of time. A desire to protect her—to hold her forever on that couch and make the moment eternal—washed over him and calmed his mind.

  Simon thought he would never fall asleep.

  Then, his eyes snapped open with the morning rays of sunlight shining through the w
indows. Some time had passed. Winston’s face was inches from his own, panting hot breath. His tail wagged in wide sways. Simon reached out and ruffled the dog’s head.

  Winston backed away and stretched his back.

  Simon looked at the top of Bethany’s head, the side of her face pressed against his chest. He tried not to move, to let her sleep, but then she said, “I’m awake.”

  Simon pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Try to sleep a little longer. It’s early.”

  “No, I’m up.” She sat up on the couch, rubbing her swollen eyes.

  Winston was standing by the door, whining a low whimper.

  “I have to take him out.” Simon stood and stretched. “It won’t take long.”

  “I’ll make some coffee.”

  Simon took Winston outside, and the dog promptly did his morning routine in a small field across from the barracks. It was nice this time of the morning, with the dew dissolving in pale drifts over the grass. A slight chill remained in the air, but by all accounts, Simon could tell that the day was going to heat up fast.

  “Come here, boy. Come here.” Simon held out the end of a thick stick, and Winston came sprinting over with his tongue bouncing out of his mouth.

  He still has so much energy, Simon thought. He still acts like a puppy.

  Simon tried not to think about Winston’s age, but it was always on his mind.

  When Winston neared the stick, Simon grabbed him by his scruff and pulled him in close, rubbing him all over his chest and back. “You’re a good boy, buddy. Aren’t you? You’re a good boy. I love you so much.” He buried his face in Winston’s fur, smelling the deep scent of the earth that his dog seemed to carry. Winston’s tail and tongue were going crazy. Simon let him go and threw the stick.

  He watched his dog sprint across the field, yet his mind kept wandering back to the previous night and the feeling of holding Bethany tight.

  Keep your mind sharp, Simon, he told himself. There’s a lot to do today. Keep your mind sharp.

  About twenty minutes later, Winston was walking over the grass instead of running, his morning reserve of energy used up.

  “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”