by C C Roth
I huffed and started to leave when suddenly a little girl was pushed toward me by a group of look-a-likes, all giggling and conspiring. She twisted side to side nervously in front of me and finally whispered, “He’s in Karina’s room.” She then fell into a fit of giggles and ran back to her friends who were almost in hysterics at that point.
I rolled my eyes. Kids were dumb.
Following the giggle monsters’ directions, I stopped at the end of the hall in front of the door painted red. It was shut. I started to turn the knob when it occurred to me that bursting in on the two of them might be an awful decision. They could be doing anything in there. It’s not like Mike had never had a girl in his room before but this was different, he’d just met Karina. I should have walked away and given him space but, since when did I ever do the right thing?
I banged on the door as loudly as I could.
“Mike! You in there?”
I heard some voices and movement on the other side then the door opened with a whoosh to expose Karina, pissy-faced and blocking the entrance with her arm. Mike was sitting on a bed looking equally annoyed. Thankfully, they both had all their clothes on.
“What’s up?” he said coolly.
“I want to talk to you. About earlier.”
He looked at Karina then back at me. “Yeah. We can talk later, okay?”
“Or we could talk now,” I fired back.
Karina shook her head. “Geez, kid. You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”
I ignored her and glared at Mike until he stood up and came out into the hall, leaving Karina pouting and cussing under her breath.
“Sam, let’s just—"
“I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to say. You can go back to making out with Princess Freckles now.”
He laughed and stopped me from marching off. “Sam, we were just talking. Relax.” Rubbing his face, he took a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight with you it’s pointless. Thank you for saying you’re sorry, I’m sure it was incredibly painful for you.”
“It wasn’t my idea. Navin told me to.”
“Well Navin’s a good guy. Look, you know I’ve got your back no matter what so if you have to do this thing then I guess I do too. I just want you to think about it for more than two seconds before you sacrifice your life and everyone’s around you. What you’re signing up for is seriously dangerous and we might not make it. Are you really okay with that?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not okay with doing nothing.”
He was disappointed but he wasn’t going to fight with me again. “Maybe you should ask yourself why that is.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I just think you need some more time to process all of this. Do you want to do this because you’re taking up a cause to fight for these people or do you just want a fight? There’s a difference and it matters.”
We both knew my answer. I didn’t have to say it.
He shrugged. “This place seems as safe as any other. Let’s just take another couple days before we tell Mitchell our answer. Will you at least do that for me? I think you might realize there are better ways to spend your time than trying to get yourself killed.”
Not likely.
“Fine. I’ll wait. You coming downstairs or staying locked up with Red?”
He shrugged his mouth up thoughtfully, then looked longingly over his shoulder at Karina. “Yeah…I’ll be down in a little bit. Try not to be a jerk to everyone.” Then he disappeared behind the door after giving my arm a solid punch.
Gross.
“So, more waiting. Awesome.”
I mentioned I wasn’t great at being patient, right?
────♦────
I flopped on my borrowed bed, ignoring my dirty boots, and wiggled around trying to get comfortable. The room was set up like all the others had been with only one question in mind, how many beds can we comfortably fit in one room? Then they added one more. It had the appearance of summer camp or prison camp, not sure which, but it served its purpose and the bed was clean. More so than the dusty warehouse t-shirt pile I’d been sleeping on. There would be no silence in a house like this. From every corner the building ached with people talking, singing, playing games, running around, bouncing balls off walls. It was constant. I closed my eyes and tried to picture every room and what the occupants might be doing.
We can’t stay here.
“Why not? Mitchell’s nice.”
We should leave tomorrow. Go back to the lab alone. We’re better alone.
“Ugh, I’m tired. Go away.”
I flopped on my side, trying to end the conversation, but it’s hard to run away from a voice in your head. And even as I silently cursed my cold friend, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe It was right. Maybe I was better off on my own. Mike would be safer without me but selfishly I knew I needed him to keep me from going too far.
A corner of Mom’s journal peeked out of my bag on the floor, practically asking to be picked up. I hadn’t talked to Mike yet about the weird entries I’d read. He had enough to worry about. Besides, I didn’t want him to see what she’d written about me. He’d only use it as a reason for me to fall in line and do whatever he wanted. See, Sam. Even Mom knew you’re nuts. You can’t be trusted so let’s go home and keep you safe. Ugh. He’d probably be right, too. I just couldn’t let go of the coldness driving me forward, pushing me to seek out that next rush of adrenaline and feel alive. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care. Impatience won out and I jumped up, ignoring the journal and the ache for sleep.
The hallway outside our borrowed room was covered in photos and papers, so many it looked like crappy wallpaper rather than an adornment. But someone had taken the time to hang up every piece, a graduation photo, a letter of acceptance, a B on a spelling test, sloppy finger paintings. Everything was hung up. These kids were loved and made to feel like they mattered. And Mitchell had done that. I couldn’t see a sinister side to him, or even the possibility of one as I stared at the wall of accomplishments. How could Mike? My eyes lingered on a picture of a young woman holding a newborn baby. Her face was covered with an enormous, tear drenched smile. I wondered what that would feel like. To be so overcome with love and happiness that you actually cry.
You’ll never know.
“Hey,” Navin rounded the corner, “what’re you looking at?”
“Oh, nothing. Just all the stuff up on the walls.”
He frowned at me, “Right. It’s nice, I guess. Looks like something my mom would do.” He had startled himself with the memory of her and suddenly looked down at the floor trying to suck up his sadness.
I fumbled to change the subject. “So, I told Mike I was sorry. Like you said.”
“Really? See, I bet you feel better, don’t you?” he grinned.
“Yeah, I actually do a little.”
“Nice! That’s called a positive emotion. Let’s run with it and see where it takes us.”
“Eh, it won’t last.”
“Not with an attitude like that it won’t. C’mon,” he was using his super condescending voice, “let’s go and hang out with some of the other people here in your age group. Those are called peers.” He dramatically steered me down the stairs and towards the basement as if I were a scared animal who might bolt at any second.
“Ew, why would we do that?”
“Because it’s what humans do. Just humor me. We’ll play a little game where you act like a real girl for a whole day and don’t shoot at anyone. You just might like it.”
Nope.
“Not likely,” I grumbled and dragged my feet on the tile floors as Navin practically carried me down the stairs.
The basement was loaded up with sofas, chairs, and a ton of games. There was a foosball table, dart board, and a mini basketball hoop. Not to mention the big screen TV taking up an entire wall. The room was packed with kids and I felt myself getting uncomfortable immediately. I wanted out and was in mid-escape when someone on the couc
h suddenly stood and shushed everyone while turning the TV up. Marta Cline, the steadfast anchor of the apocalypse, was wearing her close-up, super serious face and a stunning blue blazer. God, every time I saw her I just wanted to muss her hair and listen to her shriek. She would probably win an award for her news coverage of Avian-X while people like Mitchell were going unnoticed.
“Thank you all for joining us today. We have a very important message that concerns all of us. The Resistance is real. We have received several very convincing communications from individuals claiming to be part of a group of purists whose motivations are to figuratively reset the clock on America. These letters, emails, and social media posts are growing in number and although they originate from different sources, they all carry the same tone and end with the same message, ‘The Resistance is Real.’ So, what does this mean, you might be asking yourself. Who is The Resistance and what do they want? Well after posing those questions and more I was able to secure a meeting with a member of this so-called Resistance. Here is our recorded conversation from last Tuesday. The audio has been altered to protect the identity of the individual with whom I spoke.”
The screen switched to blue and a dialogue box popped up transcribing the interview.
Marta- “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I would like to start by asking you what is The Resistance movement that has been gaining more and more attention since the nuclear explosion in D.C.?”
Source- “The Resistance is everyone, they just don’t know it yet. We are mothers and fathers, teachers, engineers, environmentalists. We are simply a group of people that no longer trust the United States government to blindly lead us to the slaughter.”
Marta- “I see. What does that mean to you? What are your goals as an organization?”
Source- “Our core beliefs are that every human in our country and the world should receive the same treatment regardless of their gender, race, or religion. We believe that we should be shutting down our dependence on oil and eliminating our overuse of everyday toxic pollutants. We believe that the people of our nation deserve to know the truth about Avian-X and that a new political arena should be forged in order to prevent this from ever happening again. We want a healthier, more honest future for the survivors of Avian-X.”
Marta- “Mm-hmm, yes. Now, not to be dismissive but that doesn’t sound too bad to me and I’m guessing it doesn’t sound too bad to most of America right now. Clean planet, honesty in government, and fair treatment for all. If this is your message, why do you feel that you must hide? Why do you feel The Resistance movement needs to operate under the radar, so to speak?”
Source- “That is simple, Marta. Because we are being hunted.”
Marta- “I’m sorry, did you say hunted?”
Source- “Yes. I did.”
Marta- “Who do you believe is hunting you?”
Source- “I not only believe, I know for a fact that our government has operated outside the scope of their legal allowances to intrude upon, censor, and detain U.S. citizens. Average people who, because of their political beliefs or the beliefs of their families, have been kidnapped, murdered, or detained against their will.”
Marta- “Can you please elaborate on this because I am sure this is sounding a bit far-fetched to some of our viewers right now.”
Source- “There is nothing far-fetched about it. Members of our government have ordered our own military-elite to aide in the capture and holding of U.S. citizens for the purpose of keeping them silent. It is our belief that the United States government was not only aware of an imminent attack on U.S. soil but was also a party to it. We believe that politicians have been so blinded by their desire to win and beat the other side, they can’t see there should be no other side. In an attempt to destabilize our system and rebuild it as they see fit, certain members of the U.S. government conceived and executed the Avian-X outbreak.”
Marta- “This is an enormous accusation to make, surely you realize that. You are claiming that U.S. officials are to blame for the deaths of over half the U.S. population? What evidence do you have to support these claims?”
Source- “I cannot give my information now because I would be dead by the end of the day. I can tell you that former government employees from various factions have shared, and will continue to share as long as they are breathing, documents that prove upper level CIA as well as the president himself knew about the terrorist threat. They did nothing.”
Marta- “So what does The Resistance intend to do in order to rectify this wrong?”
Source- “We will continue to grow. We will continue to share the truth whenever we can. And soon we will be big enough that we can do so without fear of retaliation from the monster that is our broken government. We are not a violent movement, as we have been portrayed in the news. We simply want justice and we want what is best for our country.”
The screen returned to Marta in her newsroom. “Draw your own conclusions from this information but in my opinion this source is very serious, and I do not believe this Resistance movement is going away anytime soon. We have reached out to the Press Secretary and received no official response from the White House as of yet. This interview will air again tonight, and we will continue to give you updates as we receive them. That is all for now. As always, stay safe, America.”
A guy on the couch, almost completely covered in unfortunate tattoos, jumped up and threw a wad of trash at the TV. “I knew it! I f-ing knew it! I’ve been saying from the beginning, from day one! Those f-ing guys in Washington in their f-ing White House mother-fucked us! They mother-fucked us! Jamie, haven’t I been saying that?”
Jamie looked around and nodded, clearly not feeling as passionate as his buddy but not wanting to leave him hanging either.
“Right? I told you they knew about it. They do this all the time. I bet they even helped the sons of bitches deliver the goddamn X-bug.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I blurted out. “Why would anyone do that? They’d be putting themselves at risk too. Not to mention wiping out most of humanity helps no one.”
He turned on me and squinted his eyes like staring me down would make me agree with him. “Because that’s what they do, they mother-fuck people like us. They mother-fuck everyone whenever they get the chance.”
A few of the kids were actually nodding along with Captain D-bag despite the fact he had yet to make a logical argument.
I couldn’t resist kicking the hornet’s nest. “Did you use a noun as a verb? Mother-fuck? That’s fabulous. I love it. I’m using it all the time now.”
Navin snorted at my joke which unfortunately drew the guy’s attention on him.
“You think this is funny? What country are you from anyway, man?”
Navin shook his head. “I’m from India—"
“See I knew it man, you’re not even from here.”
“I’m from Indiana,” Navin said, interrupting him. “I’m a United States citizen, not that it matters.”
That kind of took the wind out of racist Shouty-McShouterson’s sails, so I grabbed Navin’s arm and headed for the door.
“Well thanks. It’s been fun but we have to go mother-fuck someone. Bye!”
Navin was full out laughing by then. “Wow, what an awesome vocabulary lesson for the day. How many times did he say that?”
“A lot. I really do love it though, it’s kind of genius. I can’t wait to use it in a sentence again.”
“Ha! I don’t know if genius is the right word, but the phrase certainly does stay with you.”
We took off down the hall in a fit of laughter shouting an imaginative stream of expletives as we went.
────♦────
Despite Navin’s best efforts and a crash course in normal people training, I found no solace amongst the close-knit group of locals living in the house. I just couldn’t relax. Mike and the guys had no trouble making friends, whereas I could feel the walls closing in and it was only our first day. I found myself alone and wande
ring the sidewalk out in front of the ancient building. I had tried to wrestle with Mitchell’s offer but the cold inside me was in charge and I knew we were going into that lab no matter how Mike felt about it. If only there was a way to convince him that Mitchell wasn’t a bad guy, but he was so wary of him it seemed unlikely. I flopped on the curb and ignored the drifting sounds of laughter from the courtyard out back. The streets were empty. No shopping cart people, no plague of infected stumbling around, no nothing. Some would find it peaceful, the solitude, but to me it was more like a high-pitched tone pulsing in my brain, threatening to shatter me to pieces. Our car was still parked along the curb and I thought about taking it for a drive just to shake loose some of the boredom. I obviously could’ve used the driving practice. And if I’m being honest, I considered leaving and never looking back.
Yes! Maybe we can go find some new friends!
“Friends? You want friends now?”
Did I say friends? I meant targets for practice.
“That sounds more like it.”
I raised Mom’s rifle and took scope of the apartment building windows across from us. Several of them had homemade signs hanging down from string and sad duct tape, indecipherable now after exposure to the elements. What had they said? I wondered. Were they begging for help? Warning others to stay away? No clean-up efforts had happened in Toledo yet, like most of the Midwest, so I knew those apartments must be a mess inside. Bodies left to rot while others had fled, spreading more X as they went. This couldn’t go on. Someone had to do something. But who? Who was going to be the one to wave a magic wand and make it all go away? Something resembling homesick swirled around my insides creating a longing for the solitude of the cabin in Hillsboro. But even as I thought about it, my cold friend pushed it aside. If It had its way, I wouldn’t be going back anytime soon. I hoped Frank had checked on my garden.
The front door opened and closed behind me and I turned to find Mitchell coming down the steps. He sat on the curb next to me and folded his hands under his chin, a habit I noticed he did a lot.
