“You’re gonna know my name before I’m through with you, girly girly,” I heard him say as black nothingness formed in the corner of my eyes. He released me right before I lost consciousness again, and I coughed hard trying to suck in air afterward. Quickly, I was dragged from the cell.
It was dark by the time I was taken from the jail and marched into the middle of downtown Texarkana. Like the street we had been on earlier in the day, the old buildings lay in ruins and debris was scattered everywhere. The courthouse sat as a shell of a building with two broken columns on its façade. A large, white sheet covered another part of it, the tangled circle, triangle, and crossbar symbol centered on it. I could only guess it was their symbol, something that brought them together.
A large bonfire blazed away in front of it as a mass of people gathered around. Smaller fires burned in trashcans and barrels as more men on motorcycles rampaged up and down the streets, their engines blaring. The angry leader who had brought me out here rejoined the masses. A beautiful, raven-haired girl ran up and wrapped herself around him, and they locked their mouths and bodies together like no one else was around.
I was taken to the front of the courthouse where these people looked upon us with contempt and hatred. A few people cursed me as I was hit with small amounts of food. I was nothing to them and I knew it. My only hope was if I was to die tonight, that it would be quick and painless.
Forced to kneel on a small cart, the wooden post holding me was tied to two others, making it impossible for me to move. I closed my eyes, waiting for time to come to an end, but every second seemed like an eternity, and the fear I had fought against so hard was now bubbling up inside of me. A tear ran down my cheek, and I did my best to look down, away from the hardened, irritated glares that preyed upon me.
“It won’t be long now.”
Looking to my left, I saw Alex, now tied much like I was. For some reason, they had left his hood on the entire time.
“Why don’t they get on with it then?”
To my question, there was no answer, but it was only a few moments later when car horns went off close to the courthouse. When they ended, the crazed people began to cheer, at what, I couldn’t see. But then I heard a voice coming from above me, from the building itself. It was older and well-refined, like nothing I had heard before.
“Thank you. Thank you all,” a man said, as the crowd’s clapping began to calm. “I want to thank you all for your service in making our beautiful city wholesome again. Today, you saw it with your own eyes, as we came under attack from armed gunships in the sky. They came to kill you, to take your very lives,” he said with passion and charisma. “And why? Because they do not understand that we are a new race of men, better than what has ever been seen before!” The crowd cheered again. “They know how weak they have become. They know they are no match for us. They are not equal to us! And someday soon, we will show them that they are of no use to this world any longer. Their time has passed. Now, it is our time to rule!”
The speech was again interrupted with thunderous applause and excitement. Car horns blared again after the man’s motivating words.
“Now, I have been told we not only took down their gunship, but we actually captured some of its crew—one with a mask and one without.” I could feel all of their eyes turn upon us. “Who here believes it is time we unmasked these charlatans, these insurrectionists, so they know what the SA7 can do for them?” Again, applause overwhelmed the crowd and a few made their way toward us, including the angry leader who’d captured us and his girlfriend.
I winced when I saw them approaching, remembering the slaps and punches I received from the leader. He immediately twisted my head so I was forced to look at Alex. After a moment, a shadowy figure appeared from nowhere. His eyes were deep, penetrating, and he was dressed in a long, black cloak over a dirty white undershirt. Wrinkles formed on his forehead and around his mouth. He was older than the others and I could only think he had to be the speaker that we had heard earlier. He wasn’t the strongest or biggest, but it wasn’t his physical potency that promoted him above the others; it was his ability to make the crowd become absorbed in every word he was saying. The man leaned forward slightly, resting his hands upon Alex’s shoulders.
“Who would like to do the honors?” he asked.
Many in the crowd responded to the question, but it was the girlfriend of the violent man holding me that made her way forward first, her leather skirt shimmering just for a second when the fire reflected upon it. She smiled up at the leader and then glared down at Alex with the same evil grin her boyfriend had given me. Also like him, a large tattoo ran from her neck and disappeared under her clothing, the dark ink running over her pale skin all the way to her black hair.
“No! Don’t do this! We can help you!” Alex yelled through his mask, bringing a few chuckles up from the crowd.
“You can’t even help yourself,” she answered back, and with a nod from the speaker, she leaned forward and ripped his mask from his face.
For just a moment, Alex and I locked eyes. I could see the fear in them as he tried to hold his breath. He said he didn’t want to be infected before, and I could only guess all of these people he called SA7 were just suffering from a disease. Again, many in the crowd laughed at his futile attempt to not breathe, but the girl stepped forward and locked lips with him, forcing her breath onto his mouth as he grimaced against her, coughing and gagging when she released him.
“Welcome to the dark side,” she said after the kiss, wiping her lips with her hand before turning and walking away. Alex ducked his head, taking in breaths now, but otherwise looking the same as before.
A yank of my hair forced me to look upward.
“And what about this one, Mayor?” I heard my captor ask.
I looked up past his crazed face and at the speaker. His eyes narrowed on me, but he smiled.
“She’s already one of us. Leave her here so she can watch her friend transform too.” He stepped away, back up the steps of the courthouse. The man yanked my hair one last time for his amusement.
“Remember,” he whispered, “you’re going to know my name. See you later, girly girly.” He threw my head forward and rejoined his girlfriend, both smiling back at us as they left.
The crowd began to dissipate into smaller groups around the fires and we were temporarily left alone. At least they weren’t watching us anymore. I looked over at Alex, but couldn’t bring myself to say anything to him. Finally, he turned his head toward me, his eyes defeated, all of his fight gone.
“C1,” he whispered. “C1 was your classification where you were being contained. That was your official name.”
“My official name?”
“It’s what you were called by the higher-ups. The rest of us, we called you Jennifer. Jen for short. That’s the only name I’ve ever heard you called. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more.”
Alex lowered his head and coughed loudly. When he looked at me again, his face was already reddening, blood ran down his chin from thinning skin, and his eyes were sunken into his head. Whatever this infection was, it was rapidly making him sick.
“Why was I being held...wherever you had me?” I asked before Alex completely lost all consciousness. He was breathing heavily and his head was down against his chest.
“You...you are the reason for all of this,” he stated poignantly before he closed his eyes and his head sunk one last time. I watched his breathing slow and finally he was no more.
Chapter Five
I sat there unable to move, Alex’s final words haunting me. He had played a part in my imprisonment out in the middle of some forest in Arkansas because I had caused all of this. Was the end of humanity entirely my fault? Were these vicious people who had captured me, the cannibals that tried to kill me, the mindless woman at the gas station, all of them in a deranged state of mind because of something I had done?
And now, Alex was dead because of me. I looked over at him, expecting nothing differe
nt from the last hour in which he lay there still, but as I did, his blood red eyes stared back at me. He screamed and gnawed at me, only feet away, trying desperately to get out of his restraints. Alex was no longer there. A monster, a thing that only wanted to tear me to pieces, replaced him.
A few of the mob ran forward, many with smiles on their faces. One grabbed Alex by the hair and forced his head upward.
“He’s SA8!” The young man smiled as Alex lashed out at him. A few more spouted off about how Alex had completely transformed from a normal person to the snarling animal. “Let’s put him with the others,” someone finally suggested, and quickly, they took Alex away.
My head dropped as they dragged him away, believing he was the only protection I had from these heathens.
Cold steel pushed against my forehead. Lifting my head, I looked into the vehement eyes of the young man who had captured me. His pistol pressed hard against me. My only sorrow was he was going to be the last thing I would see on this Earth.
“Damien,” he said forcefully. “Say it! Say my name!”
“Damien,” I whispered to his amusement. He pressed the gun harder against me.
“What will you do with her?” someone asked. His answer seemed to take forever, like the decision was not his to make.
“Put her with the SA4s,” he finally relented, pulling his gun away from me, but still watching as I was taken away and out of his sight.
The board confining my movements was finally unfastened and someone pushed me into another, larger cell with people inside. I scurried away from the door, looking back in time to see it close behind me.
All of my possessions were gone. Everything I had collected was now in the hands of this group, which held me captive. I checked over my shirt and my pockets, only finding the silver chain and medallion in my pants pocket. I immediately put it around my neck and buttoned my shirt all the way up, hoping that even just keeping the chain would be beneficial.
The chamber was dark and reeked of unclean bodies, an odor as foul as the dead in the cars along the interstate. I gagged but choked back the urge to vomit. Looking around, I could barely make out the faces around me, many of which stared at me with lost eyes.
“Where did you come from?” one finally asked.
“I was captured by these people on the road. They brought me here.”
“Is this your first time to our town?” I heard a woman’s voice ask in such a positive way that I wasn’t sure she was talking to me.
“Yes, yes it is,” I answered, confused.
“You should really come back during the holiday season and see all of the lights,” another one said. I looked at the person strangely and could see a small smile encrusted upon his (or her) face, the eyes all but dead. These people all seemed the same, like the woman at the truck stop, their minds lost in total obscurity.
I crawled away from the center of the room and found an open area next to the bars. There was nothing but darkness on the other side, and all I could do was roll up into a small ball, try to keep my wits, and wait for what was to come next.
* * * *
The early morning rays of lights falling upon the floor woke me up and I could see the faces of those around me much clearer. There were men and women, boys and girls, all dressed in ragged clothing, not much different than the individuals that had locked us up here, but dirtier, like these people had worked the land and not taken a bath in days, or even weeks.
In the light of day, no one bothered to acknowledge my presence. Most of them stared across the room, into nothingness. There were no conversations, no questioning why they were there. Whenever someone did speak, it was an offhand remark, which made no logical sense to me. The older woman next to me told me her daughter had been an honor roll student and she was very proud of her. When I asked where her daughter was, she told me she really wanted to paint her bedroom blue, but her husband wasn’t sure they had enough money. Afterwards, she simply turned away, not saying a word.
The creak of the jail door caused me to stir, but before anyone could move, someone pushed through two pails of food and the bars were slammed shut again. I got a glimpse of the young man’s painted face and the tattoos crossing over his cheeks and nose. He gave me a wink and a grin before he moved back down the hallway.
The people in the cell slowly crawled across the floor to the pails. I stood and looked over their shoulders as they dipped their hands into each bucket, pulling out some sort of gruel and lapping it off of their hands. As one finished, others would take their place. It was orderly and without any pushing or shoving. Even though I hadn’t eaten since the day before, I didn’t think I could bring myself to partake in their meal. It wasn’t long before the cell door opened again and three large men rushed in.
“Get to your feet!” they shouted, pulling people up by the arms, shoving them in a line, and forcing them toward the door. None of them tried to fight back, nor did I, but rather I joined the crowd in being marched out of the cell. At least I could be out again, lost in the crowd. Our guards marched us out of the holding area to the front of the courthouse and hopefully I could plan for some sort of escape. There, the speaker, dressed in his long, black jacket, discussed something with Damien. I could only reason that the mayor, what they called him last night, was the leader of this group and Damien was his henchman, carrying out all the physical activities he couldn’t or wouldn’t do. Together, brains and brawn, they led, needing each other to provide insight and brute force.
The guards forced us to line up in front of them. I watched as the mayor pressed a pointed finger into the inked chest of Damien, who snarled back, but with a grin in the corners of his mouth. He turned quickly and looked at us, and at me, giving me another smirk.
“This group has been assigned to gather wood,” he practically screamed at us. “You will move forward and grab your axes and saws. If you try anything foolish with them,” he tapped the revolver he carried in his waist belt, “then we will kill you on sight.” He looked directly at me with his final words.
Again, the guards forced us to march forward, handing each of us a tool for gathering wood. Someone shoved an ax into my hands, which I swung over my shoulder.
Afterward, we were marched out of the town in a group. Damien and five others, including his girlfriend, walked around the group, each of them pointing their weapons in our general direction with their fingers on the trigger.
As we reached the edge of town, an older man fell on the broken road in front of me. It was more than just losing his balance: he had collapsed from exhaustion and fatigue. When I came to him, I leaned down to pick him up, but was pushed hard by the point of a rifle in my back.
“Move on!” a deep voice commanded. “He’s done.”
I looked down at the man, pleading with my eyes for him to get up, but he only smiled back blankly, the wrinkles around his mouth and on his forehead deep and penetrating. The gun hit me again, harder this time and I knew the enforcer was losing his patience. When I let the man go, he fell again, still smiling, but lying motionless on the pavement. We walked another block before we all heard a shot. Others continued to walk like nothing had happened, and to them, lost in their own minds, nothing probably had. But for me, the tragedy was just another part of this world I had entered, and I had to be strong enough to stay alive here.
The morning’s work was arduous. The ax I swung was heavy and within a few swings, my arms were burning. Still, I continued the best I could, keeping my head down as the armed men and women walked around me, waiting for me to make a mistake. When I did, I was screamed at, pushed, and threatened with a gun in my face, forcing me to work harder and quicker. The wood that was cut was loaded into wheelbarrows and taken back into town.
Finally, we were given lunch, the same disgusting gruel that had been given that morning. This time I ate along with the group, dipping my hands in the buckets and eating the paste, which slid down my throat. It tasted like flour paste, but I forced it down because I had no
idea where my next meal would come from. After lunch, a few of us were taken deeper into the wooded area to find bigger trees.
“You!” Damien pointed at a tree, “cut this. You! This one.” He continued down the line of prisoners until he got to me. “And you, girly girly, follow me.” He pushed me forward with one hand, but kept enough distance afterwards so he could easily kill me if necessary.
I hated going deeper into the woods with him, alone, but all I could do was follow orders. If he chose to kill me, what could I do? I had to accept the inevitability I might not be alive much longer, and since my escape, that had become easier and easier to acknowledge.
“This one!” he yelled at me, slapping the tree with his hand. I looked at the tree, the largest one I had seen all day with a trunk at least four feet in diameter.
“It’s too big,” I muttered under my breath, but I immediately felt the cold steel of his pistol against my temple.
“What was that, girly girly?”
“The tree. I can’t cut it down. It’s too big for me.”
“Oh, is it?” he questioned sardonically. “Well guess what? If you don’t do it by dark, I’m going to kill you.”
I looked at him, past the pistol, past the tattooed arm, into his fiery eyes that showed no remorse. He was breaking me down, breaking any resistance I had left and if I couldn’t cut down the tree, I would not make it back to town alive.
I picked up the ax and swung it into the side of the thick oak. Bark flew back in my face as a violent vibration of the ax wound up my arms and into my shoulders. I had hardly made a dent and was already exhausted, but I had to continue. Each chop hurt worse than the last; each swing was harder to muster. Sweat ran down into my eyes and my clothes were also saturated. I looked back at Damien, leaning on a distant tree, his pistol in his hand, grinning as he watched silently as my body wore down. Still, I continued to fight though the pain, the exhaustion, knowing each chop was keeping me alive.
Resistant, no. 1 Page 4
