Children of Wrath

by Ryan King

  "Exactly!" said Jack. "It's a thing of beauty."

  "Yeah," said Nathan. "I ain't doing it. You been out here on your own too long, old man."

  Jack looked flabbergasted. "Why the hell not? It's amazing."

  "Because," said Nathan with exaggerated patience, "you're going to hurt someone you don't even know if you want to hurt."

  "If they come back here," said Jack, "they deserve to be hurt. That's the problem with you younger generations. You all—"

  "Soft, yeah, I know," said Nathan. "You realize you're more likely to shoot a wandering deer or some poor stray dog than a homicidal evil intruder?"

  "How is that a bad thing?" Jack asked with his hands out to his sides. "Dog's damn good eatin'."

  Nathan sighed. "I wonder about you Jack. You sure you're..." He stopped talking as the old man held up a hand and cocked his head toward the door, listening.

  Jack stood up slowly and moved in the direction of the voice, taking a zigzag route in order to step around the loud creaks on his floor. Once there, he picked up his shotgun and eased it up into a ready position while looking through a peephole in the door.

  Nathan reached down and pulled the .45 automatic out of the holster at his hip and laid it in his lap.

  "Grandpa!" yelled a gruff voice from outside. "You in there? Don't shoot. Just come on out. I don't want to come any further until I know you know it's me."

  "It's evidently someone who knows you well," whispered Nathan.

  Jack set the shotgun down with a grin. "It’s Conrad." He opened the door and rushed out.

  Nathan holstered his pistol, stood from the table, and walked over to look out the front. There he saw Jack giving a large man in an MA uniform a warm hug. They smiled and spoke pleasantries to each other that Nathan couldn't make out.

  Conrad's face changed as he caught sight of Nathan in the doorway. He slowly stepped out from behind his grandfather and just as carefully raised a Russian-made combat rifle to point in the direction of Nathan. "Who are you?"

  "That's my guest," said Jack, laying a hand on Conrad's rifle in an attempt to get him to lower it.

  "I'm askin' you," Conrad said, ignoring the old man.

  Nathan stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the frame of the door. "I'm Nathan Taylor."

  "That supposed to mean something to me?" Conrad asked.

  "Not really," said Nathan, "but that was your question."

  "Why the hell are you here?"

  "I came here by accident," answered Nathan. "I’m trying to find my son, and Jack here was kind enough to help me out."

  "He's from Kentucky," said Jack helpfully.

  "Kentucky," said Conrad. "How the hell you get here from Kentucky? Better yet, why?"

  "He's one of them exiles," said Jack with a big smile.

  Conrad looked at his grandfather and then back at Nathan. "That true? Show me your hand."

  Nathan held up his right hand, showing the now permanently scarred letters.

  "Okay," said Conrad. "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to get out of here. Now. I don't want to hear one more word, just starting walking."

  "No," said Jack. "It ain't like that. Nathan is my guest."

  "Grandpa," reasoned Conrad, "this man is obviously some dangerous criminal. If I let him stay, he'll likely cut your throat in the night. Why on earth didn't you just shoot him when he showed?"

  "Thought about it," said Jack. "He's just different, that's all."

  "Why don't we all sit down and talk about this," said Nathan in what he hoped was a reasonable tone.

  Conrad nearly growled at Nathan, "Why don't you shut the hell up before I blow your head off."

  "No need to be that way," said Jack. "He's just trying to find his son, that's all."

  "Likely story," said Conrad. "That's not why he's here. That brand on his hand is why he's here."

  Both men turned to look at Nathan now. "You're both right. I was kicked out for doing my job and my boy is missing over here."

  "How in the world would your little boy get from Kentucky over here anyway?" said Conrad. "You need a better story there, mister."

  "I didn't say he was little," said Nathan. "He's in the JP army. Led a routine patrol over here to check things out. Ran into some trouble with your kind if I'm not mistaken and got taken prisoner. His name is Joshua; he's about this high"—Nathan held his hand about six inches over his own squat stocky frame—"and has blond hair."

  Conrad looked like he had just been punched in the stomach. "You said you got fired for doing your job. What was that job?"

  Nathan hesitated but figured there was no harm in talking now. "I was in charge of security and intelligence for the JP. Something called the Strategic Security Agency."

  Conrad slowly lowered his rifle. "So you're that Nathan Taylor."

  Now Jack looked confused. "What?"

  Nathan looked at the man with a confused look that matched Jack's.

  "Maybe we should go inside and talk after all," said Conrad.

  *******

  "You'll be happy to know your boy escaped," said Conrad after telling how Joshua's recon was captured. "He and two other JP boys got away. We still haven't found 'em. Killed two of my men in the process."

  Nathan sat back and closed his eyes. He had been so filled with fear and worry about the inability to do anything that if felt like a large burden slid off his back.

  "I got to tell you," added Conrad, "that he was in bad shape."

  "What do you mean?" asked Nathan.

  Conrad looked a little nervous and glanced at his grandfather, but then continued, "Let us just say that when Vincent Lacert asks a question, he expects an answer. And he's the real curious type."

  "Torture?" asked Nathan, his hands going to fists in his lap.

  "Yeah," said Conrad looking down. "I tried to talk him into just cooperating, but he wouldn't do it. That's how I learned about you and your other son David and your wife Bethany and how you made it all the way from Maryland."

  Conrad's voice in Nathan's ears had slowly faded as he talked, as if Nathan were listening to the conversation from underwater. Joshua would have never told a stranger those things unless forced to. Nathan could only imagine what it took to force him speak of such personal thing to a total stranger.

  Nathan slid to the left out of his chair and onto a knee in one fluid motion. Next, he was up close beside Conrad holding the collar of his shirt with one hand. The other held the edge of his hunting knife against the side of the big man's neck.

  "Hey now!" hollered Jack. "No need for that."

  "Stay still, grandpa," said Conrad, holding his hand out to the old man. "Nathan and I are just having a little talk here." He cut his eyes to look at Nathan's tight face. "Ain't nobody getting hurt here."

  "I'm glad you're so sure," grunted Nathan. "I still haven't made up my mind."

  "Look," said Conrad, "it wasn't me. I tried to help your boy, but he wouldn't listen. I even got the doc to come see him afterwards. I did what I could."

  "Did what you could?" mimicked Nathan. "Well, that's awful Christian of you. How am I to ever express my gratitude?"

  "I get it," said Conrad. "He's your son. I can't imagine something like that happening to one of my kids, but...he's a soldier. Shit like this happens, and let's not forget, he's alive."

  "We think he's alive," corrected Nathan, but the worst of his anger was gone. He pulled the knife away from the man's throat and sat back down.

  Jack looked like he was getting ready to have a heart attack. "We'll have no more of that business in my house! You boys hear me?"

  Conrad nodded and then Nathan did as well.

  "Hell's fire," said Jack. "That's the damn problem with your younger generations. Everything is so dramatic. Don't even know how to talk to each other anymore with all those damn iPhones, and twixter, and lillypads and such."

  "You're still not blameless in this," said Nathan to Conrad.

  Conrad smiled wryly. "Didn't s
ay I was. Ain't none of us blameless. Not even you I reckon."

  Nathan supposed that was true. "Why are you even with the MA? Look what they've done to everything around here?"

  "What's the alternative?" asked Conrad. "Hide in a hole and starve with my family? Not cooperate and be made one of their slaves while my wife and daughter go to the whorehouse? Yeah, those are real fine options there, partner. Not all of us have our very own hydroelectric dam with unlimited supplies of electricity."

  Nathan thought about what the man was saying. There was a great deal of logic to it. "You could go to the JP," he finally said.

  Conrad looked at him for a moment and then laughed. "Right. They'd just let us stroll right on in and pick out a nice little house with flowers out front."

  "I could get you in," Nathan said.

  "You?" asked Conrad. "Nathan Taylor? The man exiled from the JP?"

  "I still have friends there," said Nathan, "and I still have influence."

  "Okay," said Conrad, "but I’m not saying I'm up for that. Still a lot of details to work out, don't you know? Like keeping me and my family from getting flayed alive by the MA should we get caught, that sort of detail, but why the hell would you do that?"

  "There'll be something I want in return," said Nathan.

  "Wouldn't have expected anything less," said Conrad.

  Nathan paused for a moment. "By your estimate, how many JP men are still with the MA?"

  Conrad thought. "We had seven that came in with the original squad. Then twenty-one more when your boy and his two squads came in. Three escaped, three were hung, and one died in an accident. That leaves..."

  "Twenty-one," said Nathan. "There are twenty-one JP boys still there."

  "Sounds right," said Conrad.

  "You're going to get them out," said Nathan.

  Conrad started laughing. "You have no idea what you're talking about. They're spread out over different units. As new personnel, they're being watched like hawks, and despite the recent successful escape, our security is pretty good."

  "I understand it's going to be difficult," said Nathan, "but I think it can be done."

  "Why do you even care?" asked Conrad. "Your Joshua is out. Who are these others to you? Are you doing it for the same JP that just spat you out?"

  "No," said Nathan slowly. "Not for the JP. But there are twenty-one families back there worried about their son or husband or father. I know how important family is. That's why I'm doing it."

  "Didn't I tell you he was strange?" Jack said.

  "Yeah," answered Conrad. "So how the hell you think we're going to do this?"

  Nathan smiled. "I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Let's start with you sketching out the camp for me."

  Chapter 9 - River in the Earth

  Someone was shaking Joshua awake. They were trying to be gentle, but getting progressively more insistent the harder he tried to ignore them.

  "Come on now," said a voice Joshua had never heard.

  He opened his eyes to see a gangly man with shaggy black hair and thick glasses.

  "There we go," he said. "Good morning to you."

  Joshua rubbed the remains of sleep out of his eyes. "Who are you?" he asked groggily. "And what time is it?"

  "My name is Frederick," the man said. "I'm your hall representative, and"—he looked at his watch—"it is seven in the morning. It does take some getting used to. No night and day makes it hard to tell."

  "Okay," said Joshua, sitting up in his bunk. "What's up?"

  "What is up is work for you," Frederick said. "I thought it would be a good idea to get to know my newest constituent, and the doctor thought the biofarms probably weren't a good place for someone still healing up to work. So you lucked out."

  "Lucked out how?" asked Joshua.

  Frederick smiled broadly. "You get to work with me down at the river turbines."

  Joshua had already noticed that everyone in Genesis seemed to be artificially upbeat and happy about everything. As if they were living in a toddler's television show. He idly wondered if there was Prozac in the food.

  "Come on," said Frederick. "It's fairly easy duty, but you'll want some food in your belly regardless.

  Joshua stood and got dressed. There were three others in the bunkroom doing the same while another seven still slept. Everyone ignored each other and did their own thing. Joshua squeezed into the latrine and brushed his teeth and washed his face. When he walked out, Frederick was holding out a bag for him. "What's this?"

  "Boots," said Frederick, "and six pairs of socks. You need to wear boots down below for safety, but don't put them on until I tell you or you'll get a fine."

  "Okay," said Joshua, looking inside and seeing that they appeared to be a perfect fit for him.

  Frederick turned and opened the door out into the hallway and, once he saw Joshua was following, led them to the cafeteria. This morning they had oatmeal, brutally strong coffee, and a glass of orange juice. Not having coffee in months, Joshua expected that to be the best part, but the juice tasted like heaven.

  "Wow," said Joshua after it was all gone.

  Frederick smiled, pleased. “None of us before the bombs really had much food that was actually fresh. It was pumped full of pesticides, hormones, minerals, hell even LSD for all we know."

  "But not here," Joshua said.

  "Nope. No need. We don't have any bugs or insects that we don't need, just the bees for pollination. It grows year round, and we consume it the same day it comes ripe."

  "That's pretty impressive," said Joshua, digging into his oatmeal.

  Frederick ate his own. "We bought into Genesis more as something new, something exciting. Just fun, you know. We never thought it would really come to this."

  "We?" asked Joshua.

  "My wife and I," answered Frederick. "I was chief engineer at a big company in Chicago that designs all sorts of cool gizmos, but after a while, it just gets dull."

  "So you bought into Genesis?"

  "Yeah, we came for our very first stay," Frederick said, "and then poof, it all comes apart. Good thing we weren't in Chicago, right?"

  Joshua nodded.

  "Where were you when it happened?" Frederick asked.

  The memories were as fresh to Joshua as if they had occurred the previous day. "We were on an Army post in Maryland, between Baltimore and D.C."

  "I bet both of those got hit pretty hard," said Frederick.

  "They did," said Joshua.

  Frederick's brow wrinkled. "How did you make it out? I mean, even if you survived the initial blast, the radiation would have killed you, I would think."

  Joshua smiled. "My father saved us. None of us would have known what to do. Within seconds, he had us underground with food and water and all the air vents and cracks sealed up. Kept most of the radioactive particles away, evidently. We stayed down there for a week and a half until all the stuff had settled out of the atmosphere."

  Frederick whistled. "That's incredible. How did you get out of there?"

  "We drove as far as we could," said Joshua, "then walked. It took a while and was pretty dangerous. I wouldn't recommend it."

  "I wouldn't imagine so," said Frederick. "I'd think it was a miracle you even survived, much less made it away from the east coast. That's a giant graveyard now from what I understand."

  Joshua just nodded and finished his coffee.

  "Time to go," said Frederick cheerfully. "You finished?"

  Nodding, Joshua stood and followed the other man out into the main open area and then toward another hallway. He stopped in front of what was obviously an elevator and pulled a key from his pocket and slipped it into the slot and turned. Joshua heard a heavy mechanical whine, which stopped with a loud clang, and then the doors were opening up before them.

  "After you," said Frederick.

  Joshua stepped on board, and Frederick followed. He put his key into a slot on the inside labeled Lower Level B and turned his key. The doors closed, and the elevator began to descend.<
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  "This has got to be a little overwhelming," said Frederick.

  Joshua nodded, deciding that this man was obviously one of those who could not stand for there to be silence between two people.

  "You'll get used to it," Frederick offered. "Soon enough you'll know this place like the back of your hand."

  "Will I get a key to run the elevator?" Joshua asked.

  "Maybe if you end up staying on the turbine and river detail permanently,” said Frederick. “We'll see how you do today."

  The lift stopped with another loud clang, and the doors slid open. Joshua was surprised to see a dimly lit opening surrounded by rough rock more resembling a cave than a manmade structure.

  "This way," said Frederick, leading him over to one side where metal shelves were bolted to the floor and a wide rubber mat covered the ground in front. "Put this on over your clothes," said Frederick, handing him a thin one-piece jumpsuit, "and then put on your socks and boots. Try not to step on the mat since we want to keep everything as clean as possible."

  Joshua slid the jumpsuit, socks, and boots on, and then stowed the bag with the rest of his socks on a shelf. Frederick next handed him a hard hat.

  Looking at the inside of the hat anxiously, Joshua slid it on over his still-healing scalp covered in burn cream and light bandages. Once the hat was on, Joshua felt better. His head was more sensitive than in actual pain.

  "Follow me," said Frederick and led him down a shaft with dim light bulbs attached to the ceiling every five feet. They passed only a few fellow workers going the other way as they descended and Frederick seemed to know them all.

  Joshua became aware of a slight hum and then a rushing noise. "Is that the water I hear?"

  The man nodded. "Wait until you see it."

  Walking down the shaft for another ten minutes brought them to a carved outcropping with safety rails overlooking a flood of water rushing by them at incredible speed. Joshua had seen plenty of rivers, but this one appeared angry and full of tightly suppressed power.

  "It's the confinement," said Frederick. "The rock forces the water into a narrow channel. That water is moving with incredible strength which is good for us." He pointed across the river at two giant machines spaced about fifty feet apart.