Resurrection

by Michael Clements

  For no other reason than “Why not?” Theia located the exit and stepped out to the playground. She observed that the field circumvented around the left side of the property as well, which had been visible when she and Mercy pulled in. First she encountered were the boys playing basketball. One of the basketball courts was cleared to be used for the sport. What if the ball hits someone’s tent? was Theia’s first thought.

  Among the players was a single girl, probably a year or two older than her, and a lot more of a tomboy, dressed in looser attire than the boys; trash-talked more and better, too. Seeing the girl interact with the boys triggered a memory – a disturbing nightmare of a memory. Chase… Spencer, and their group. Even the cold air from that December day returned, chilling her skin. As she watched the game, she feared the boys would attack the girl. Each team had at least five people, she estimated. Nine boys, one girl… Such odds were against her. If Theia needed to save the girl from attack, no chance could she fend off nine people.

  Then, she remembered how that memory ended…

  As her mind traveled back to that time in full, her heart beat ferociously. Did I kill him? she asked over and over. It didn’t seem likely, but it had to be possible. By the moment she had stopped punching Chase with the very brass knuckles he acquired, she was gone. Reaction, then flight. No thought had even gone into it. She punished Chase with the same brutality he had inflicted upon Benny. What came over me? I don’t hurt people! Having run away before she perceived the end result, she didn’t know what condition she left her victim in. Even after what Chase did – cold-blooded, heartless murder – regret consumed her.

  More troubling than Chase’s actions, more troubling than her own, was the fact that Chase’s friends stood aside and watched. He killed Benny, and they still stood by him. They helped… Theia was now absentmindedly pacing around the playground as her thoughts enveloped her. They weren’t all like him. Spencer wasn’t. He was nice. He said he listened to Chase because he was afraid of him. What if the other kids were different, too? Benny stood up to him, but Spencer didn’t. Benny died because he stood up to Chase. If the other boys weren’t like Chase, they should have stood up to him. They couldn’t be scared of him if they outnumbered him. If they all stood up to him at the same time, Chase would have been forced to stop. So, maybe the other kids were exactly like Chase. Evil, and sick, and heartless. If that’s how they were, I hope they get hurt just like Chase did.

  She stomped back toward the office, pushing aside anyone in her path. She was angry; enraged, at herself, and at Chase. Once she sat again, more memories flooded in: Memories of her mother before the world went to hell, of her father leaving her shortly after he found her, and most things in between. Every memory that returned worsened her physical state, to the point she was shaking. Too many emotions, too much pain, too much confusion.

  “Theia, honey?” said a voice a few feet away which carried soothing familiarity. She looked up, and then Mercy asked, “The meeting’s done. What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Hunching forward, dipping her head low, her face parallel with the floor, she mumbled, “Nothing.”

  Mercy approached Theia, kneeling down, folding and resting her hands on Theia’s lap. “Are you sure? I’m here if you need me.”

  “Yeah, you’re the only one.”

  “That’s not true. A lot of people are here for you. Nobody’s trying to hurt you anymore.” Theia didn’t adjust her head any. “You know who’s always going to be there for you?” When Theia shook her head, Mercy answered, “Your father.”

  “He left.”

  Mercy shook her head. “No. He promised he’d–”

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m on a tight schedule.”

  The unfamiliar voice prompted Theia to finally look up. It must have been that Fallon person Mercy kept talking about; the one in charge of the zone. The woman had long, black hair. She seemed close to six feet tall, and old enough to be Mercy’s mother. Merely from how Fallon stood, Theia knew she commanded great authority and respect.

  “Fallon!” said Mercy with surprise. “Sorry. This is Theia.”

  The woman walked over to them, smiling. Theia wasn’t certain if she should feel uncomfortable or relieved that Fallon was staring at her. “H-Hi,” she tried to say.

  “You’re Ethan’s cub, aren’t you?” Reluctantly, Theia answered with a nod. “You’re a beautiful little girl. Boys will be ogling over you for decades. So, tell me, what did you want to ask me?”

  “Ask you?” reacted Theia. The entire reason they were there nearly slipped her mind. “Oh, right! Umm… Well, school hasn’t started yet. I was just wondering if I could… I don’t know.”

  Fallon chuckled. “Just speak, Theia. You don’t need to be afraid of me. I can’t be that scary.”

  “Can I go with my mom?” She just spat it out before too much thinking made her hesitate again.

  “Go where? Be specific.”

  “You know, out. Help her do her job.”

  Fallon glanced at Mercy briefly. “Well, Theia, your mom aids our medical teams. We send her into dangerous areas where refugees are looking for a safe haven away from the war. You know the war is still happening, right?”

  “I thought things were getting better.”

  “Only in reclaimed zones, like this one. Whole sections of the city have turned into slums. Thousands of people all around the country are leaving the big cities every day, fleeing into the farmlands, and even that’s causing problems. We’re doing everything we can, bit by bit, until everything’s better. You want to go with your mom to these places, helping her rescue people from war-torn regions? It’s very dangerous.”

  Theia actually laughed at her warning. “I was all alone, you know. People were coming after me all the time, and I still survived.”

  Fallon laughed. “Oh, I’ve heard all about that. You’re a clever and resourceful little girl.”

  “Only because of my dad.”

  As if Fallon didn’t hear Theia’s comment, she said, “Because you’re smart and careful, I’ll permit you to go, but only to the secure areas. You’ll stay with Mercy at all times, understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Theia, bowing her head.

  Fallon’s eyes widened. “You bowed to me.”

  Theia shrugged. “I saw people bow to my grandma all the time. It’s a habit.” Fallon laughed, as if she found that cute.

  Mercy then addressed Theia. “We heard terrible news today, honey.” Terror struck Theia. “The government’s been dismantled. That means it’s broken up.”

  I know what ‘dismantled’ means!

  “All the states are on their own, now. Actually, for the most part, it’s not even every state for itself, but every city for itself. Things might be starting to get better here in Portland, but not so much everywhere else. The Army will be in charge for a long time, keeping peace and order. I hear people are starting to migrate to Portland because it’s safer here… That might make it even more difficult to keep peace.”

  Fallon added to the information being fed to Theia. “My husband’s commander, General Alexander, took his best troops and attacked the Reformist leader hiding in Woodburn. The whole town was taken over. Fortunately, the Reformist leader surrendered before hundreds more lost their lives. Woodburn is mostly intact now, so that’s where I was going to send your mom. I guess now, you’ll be going there, too.”

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Theia.

  “You’re little, so I don’t want you getting too involved. Just talk to the wounded troops and civilians. That’s an important job; when people are hours from dying, it helps to have someone to talk to.”

  “Talk to people? I won’t be doing anything important, like getting supplies? I’ll be in everybody’s way!”

  “No, Theia. If someone asks you to retrieve medical supplies for them, do it,” responded Fallon. “It’ll help a lot. Trust me. Now, I’m afraid I have to go. Mercy, you have all the details, so I’ll see you down
there.”

  –––––––

  “Talk to people? Seriously?”

  “Calm down, honey. Fallon just wants you to be safe.”

  “No, she doesn’t want me to get in the way while other people do more important things. I might as well not go at all. Just stay home and sit on the couch.”

  Mercy slowly braked at the red light on the intersection of 148th and Halsey. The teams and squads were to leave only half an hour after Fallon’s meeting at H.B. Lee. With such little time to arrive punctually, Theia pondered hard about staying or ditching. She wanted to jump out of the car then run home to cry the rest of the day.

  “Remember what you said about being in the streets alone? You said one of the biggest things you wanted was just having someone to talk to. You know what it’s like to be lonely. So, how could talking to soldiers and refugees be a bad thing, Theia?”

  When the light turned green, Mercy drove forward, and a short drive to their destination remained. Before they reached it, Theia had to ask, “How long are we gonna be down there?”

  “Not sure. Maybe all day, maybe two days. The recovery effort will take some time. Once we’re there, we can only leave when we’re permitted. Did you pack at least three sets of clothes like I asked?”

  “Yeah, I just didn’t think we were really going to leave the same day Fallon said yes, if she even would say yes. You knew what happened in Woodburn before your meeting, didn’t you?”

  “I heard about it.” They pulled in to the lot to the former Glendoveer Golf Course, a large tract of land with a circumference exceeding two miles.

  Less than ten minutes after arriving, both found themselves already being loaded up in a transport helicopter. Theia couldn’t believe it. The experience was already half thrilling, half confusing. It seemed excessive, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. She and Mercy were brought aboard and strapped in before she could fully process that she was being loaded into a fucking helicopter! It seemed half the neighborhood was joining them inside. This thing can hold a TON! thought Theia. She lost herself in a world of questions, all involving the aircraft, such as how much fuel it consumes every minute they’re in the air, or if it could fly through a hurricane.

  “Roads are too dangerous these days,” said Mercy. “We could be ambushed or something down there.”

  “How can the Army afford to use these things?”

  “Our troops aren’t short on resources. Not yet. Someday, it’ll be harder, I’m sure, with half the country against them and the government being virtually nonexistent now. For now, they use what they can.”

  The aircraft reached Woodburn and landed without any trouble. Troops kindly escorted everyone from their seats, out the back ramp. Additional bodies lined up around them for security. While Mercy was being instructed to follow someone, Theia clung to her shirt. From her eyes, everyone seemed perplexed that there was a child among the arrivals. Theia spotted Fallon shortly after they exited the chopper, and she could hear the woman receiving some flack for allowing a child to be present. No one confronted Mercy about it, though.

  Several hours of chaos started right there. So much for sending help, Theia thought after a while. She was running around with Mercy, bringing her mom supplies and delivering messages to staff all across the med camp. It was almost as she had wished her job to be. An additional benefit was the fact she was too hurried to think much about what she was witnessing. When five o’clock rolled around, it was time for break. They rested for a few minutes at the doctors’ tent. Mercy was far more exhausted, having been keeping pressure on so-and-so’s wound and holding down people writhing in pain. Observing how heavily Mercy was breathing, suddenly, being everyone’s retriever wasn’t so bad. Unfortunately, after being inactive for an extended period of time, as she sat in that tent away from the sight of it all, she was now seeing it more than ever.

  Five men, at minimum, were missing limbs; at least twenty people suffered severe burns. Cadavers were kept in her peripheral and ignored as much as she could; a nearly impossible feat since they were as abundant as the injured. Still not used to it, she told herself. As expected, it still worsened every single time. Death was death. These people won’t get their life back, ever. Questions seized her mind: Did they need to die; did it hurt; did they have a chance to say goodbye?

  Mercy was beside her, conversing somewhat casually, not overly consumed by the horror of what they had been dealing with. Same applied to the other aids, too. Theia did notice most had shaky hands, including Mercy. Apparently, everyone was attempting to cope by conversing about stupid, irrelevant trifles.

  “Is he here?” asked Theia, tugging on Mercy’s shirt.

  “What, who?”

  “The guy. The Reformist leader. The guy they attacked.”

  “Oh, him. You mean Paul Ritter. Yes, he’s here. Fallon’s husband is holding him about a mile away. Why?”

  “I need to talk to him right now.”

  Her words caught the attention of the others in the room, doctors and regular aids alike. It may have been the craziest words they ever heard.

  “Honey, that’s not possible. He’s the Army’s prisoner, held in a secure location.”

  Theia shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not like I’m an enemy or something. You know me, Fallon knows me… Why can’t I go? I just want to ask him something.”

  One of Mercy’s colleagues responded, “You could write him a letter?”

  “No!” Theia almost screamed. “I want to see him, with my own eyes. Talk to him, hear him, and all that stuff.” She turned to Mercy. “Ask Fallon. Please?”

  Fallon wasn’t even reachable for 45 minutes, long after their break ended. Theia abandoned her task of running amok the instant she heard her boss was finally available. First words out of her mouth upon hearing the request from Theia had been, “What’s next? Are you gonna beg for your own army too?”

  Ultimately, the decision didn’t belong to Fallon (and she repeatedly specified this). Back-and-forth the two went, countering each other’s statements like a competition. Theia knew all along that there wasn’t any good reason, aside from merely taking up the Army’s time, that she shouldn’t be allowed to just talk to the guy. Ultimately, Fallon decided to have Theia ask her husband. Excusing Theia from her tasks for the rest of the day, Mercy stayed behind while Fallon took Theia to see the Colonel.

  A short drive across the remains of Woodburn later, Theia stepped out of the car and stood before a building that appeared to be an old factory. Soldiers armed to the teeth surrounded her, which was nearly as intimidating as mutilated dead bodies. Theia had told Fallon exactly what she planned to ask this Paul guy. It must have been adequate enough.

  Fallon had the troops open a back entrance to the building, where a tall officer was waiting on the other side. She knew his face. Recalling how he brought her out of downtown Portland before she knew anything about him, she felt uneasy seeing him again. Then, recalling how he tried to restrain her when she ran up to her father in the hospital, she already liked him a little less.

  “Hello, dear,” the man said to Fallon. He kissed and embraced his wife, then looked at Theia. “Good to see you, too, Theia.”

  Knowing she was interfering in important military affairs, she told the man, “I promise I won’t take a long time.”

  While looking at Theia, Fallon said to her husband, “She’s a persistent one, Tyson.” Theia took note of the name. “If Ethan aided us in Marcus Solomon’s capture, I figured if she wants five minutes with another valuable prisoner, it couldn’t hurt anything.”

  “Indeed,” sighed Tyson. “He’s just sitting alone until we’re prepared to bring him north. Follow me, Theia.”

  “Where’s my dad?” Theia promptly asked before starting to walk. Hearing Fallon mention Ethan made her think perhaps someone knows where he is.

  “Your father is alive, I’m sure of it.”

  “But where is he? Do you know?”

  “I do not know where he is rig
ht now.”

  No need to worry, thought Theia. Dad promised me he’ll be back.

  She was led to the door where Paul was on the other side. “We’ll be right outside watching and listening, so you’ll be safe. Try to keep it short, though,” said Tyson.

  “Yes, sir.”

  –––––––

  “That’s a rather blunt question, don’t you think?” said Paul, sitting patiently against the opposite wall with his arms folded. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why they’ve sent a little girl to interrogate me …, you didn’t even bother to say hi. So, starting over would be nice.”

  While he was talking, she observed his appearance, drawing connections to how he was a leader to so many people. He was probably in his fifties, but looked and sounded healthy like a man in his early adult years. Half his hairs were gray, he wore faded clothes, and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. Above all, based on what she read from his face, he wasn’t stupid, nor afraid to stand up for himself, which already earned him at least some respect. War had beaten him up physically and mentally, no doubt.

  Theia remained persistent. “I’ll ask again: Why were you a murderer when you could have just told people to be peaceful?” Theia looked dead in his eyes.

  “Why don’t you tell me your name?”

  “Answer my question first.”

  Paul sighed. “Alright, then. I’ll be the adult here. I would say that nobody who does evil deeds knows they’re doing it, unless they’re aware and they simply justify it.”