Before Parry realized what was happening, a blade sliced through the back of his right achilleas tendon. A scream of anguish tore through the late morning air, sinking the prisoner’s morale even lower.
Auska stood firmly as Everett walked closer to her, his eyes burning with excitement. “Let what you just have seen sink in deep, because keep up the shit and you’ll be next.” Without another word, he walked off.
Watching Parry struggle as they wrapped a cloth around his wound and threw him into one of the trailers sent the first true shiver of fear through her. To be hobbled would be to forfeit any hope of escaping or long-term survival out here. It would be worse than death; it would be suppression. She would die before she allowed that to happen.
The last of the dried, canned food supplies were carted into the storage room. The three men from the First Division that had been bringing it in over the last three days wiped sweat from their faces as they accepted glasses of water from Kelli.
“Well, that’s all of it, finally,” Owen, a middle-aged man who had been in Sanctuary for twelve years, said.
“So much more than I expected,” Vincent told them as he eyed it all. This was only about seventy percent of what had come in, the rest had needed to go into the freezers or cold storage.
“Yeah, it was a good haul,” another of the men replied with a sly grin. “Got a good deal this time.”
“A good deal?” Vincent asked confused.
“A good deal from those raiders,” Owen spoke again, his eyes glaring at the man who had spoken, “had we not found them and killed them, this would have only made them stronger, more of a threat.”
“Right,” Vincent replied, “of course. A great find for Sanctuary, indeed. You boys did well, plus fewer raiders in the world can only be a good thing for everyone.”
“You know it,” the third man finally spoke, though he shuffled nervously. “Hope now that everything is here there will be a big dinner tonight.”
Vincent nodded. “I got something good planned, might even toss in a little extra for you three since you had to do so much work the last few days.”
Owen clapped him on the back. “That would be mighty fine of you, Vincent, we’ll be looking forward to it.”
Finishing their water, they took their leave and left the kitchen with haste.
“Well, that was weird,” Kelli said, cleaning up the mess they had made on the floor. “The men from the first always make me nervous.”
“That’s because they are dangerous, and they know it,” he explained. “The worst part is they know people know it, and they flaunt it around like a badge of fucking honor.”
“I can’t believe how much food they got. Far more than what we first expected and what was on that list. With what we grew this year, and this, we will have plenty of food for the winter and well into spring.” She was smiling warmly at the stockpile.
Vincent was thinking the same thing. The list the council had given him had been large enough, but what was brought in was clearly more. He stared at the full storage room, suspicion running wild in him once more. “What if she was right?”
Kelli looked around cautiously. “Don’t start again Vincent. I just got you to calm down about it, things are just starting to go back to normal. People we called friends are finally coming around and talking to us again. Don’t start again… please!”
“But what if she was telling the truth? Look at it all, Kelli. You can’t tell me a band of raiders could have gathered all that in a few days of raiding around here.” He walked into the room and touched several of the boxes and crates where various canned good and boxed food was now stored. “Think about it! What Auska said makes more sense than raiders, way more sense and the more I think about it, it would start to piece other things together as well.”
“They wouldn’t do that. They built this place up for the safety of the people here. They may be assholes and full of themselves and live far better than we do, but they still shaped this place for the purpose of protecting the people within. And we are safe here, far safer than we ever were out there.”
“Or maybe they shaped it for the protection of themselves?” He caught her eye and knew she wished he would stop thinking about it, but he couldn’t, or more to the point, wouldn’t. “To them, what are a few lives for a winter supply of food? A few lives to keep the walls safe, to keep them safe. They don’t risk anything but ask and take everything from every other soul here.”
“Listen to yourself!”
“I’d rather you listened to me!” he snapped back, with more venom then he had truly intended. “Think about it, Kelli! Every year, we struggle to find and grow enough food, and yet every year we get by. Also every year, people get sick and die, or go missing out on patrol to never be seen or found again.”
“People go missing and die out there, you know that.” She scorned him. “It’s a dangerous place, or have we been here too long that you’ve forgotten what it is like? Maybe you should go out with one of the Divisions and see what it’s like again for a few days.”
“I have forgotten nothing of the world out there. But maybe you’ve forgotten the horrible nature some people can turn to for survival… for power.”
She packed away the broom now that the floor was clean. He needed to let it go; what was done was done, nothing would change that now. But he was holding on for dear life to something that pushing would bring nothing but problems.
“Think about it, how long could any one of them survive out there on their own?” he questioned her. “You’ve seen them. They are soft, fat, old, nothing in their features show the hardships of what this world has done to those who have had to live in it! They have stationed themselves in a place of power, found this place at the beginning, rallied stronger men and women to it, promised them safety, food, shelter and as close to a ‘normal’ life as one can have. All without ever having to put themselves at risk.”
“That doesn’t make them monsters, Vincent. Just means they used what they had to stay alive. We survived because we were tough and had sense; they survived because they got lucky and had a vision and knew how to rally people.”
“But how long do they stay alive if we all run out of food? When do the people start looking to them to fix it? I’ve talked to others before we arrived; they had some hard years, people starved to death, riots that needed putting down. What better way to stay on top and keep the population down enough to keep in check then to sell a few off each year? A sickness here, an accident there, a patrol that was ambushed, runaways? Tell me it doesn’t make sense to you!”
Kelli hated this. “Vincent, you are reaching too far.”
“But what if it is?”
“What would it change Vincent? What difference would it really make? We are alive, the people within the walls are alive, we are safe, we have food, we aren’t fighting every second of every day just to see the sunrise once more!”
Her words cut him deeply. “How can you say that? How can you justify it like that?”
“What else is there?” she countered. “If it’s happening, it’s horrible, but WE, Vincent, are alive and well. WE have a place to call home. WE no longer have to fight every waking moment.” She sighed. “Ever since the virus hit and I had to kill my first infected, then my first person, all I have wanted was somewhere safe, somewhere that I could feel some form of normal again. Before I met you, the hospital base was great, life there was good. Dangerous, still, but manageable. Once that got destroyed, I never expected to find a place I could truly feel safe again. These last years here have been the closest we are ever going to get, and I accept that and don’t want to risk losing it.”
In all his years he had known her, loved her, he had never expected this side of her, never dreamed she could be so cold. “I need to get some air.”
“Vincent, please!” she begged as he left the kitchen without another word.
Vincent threw open the door and stepped out into the chill of the afternoon. The sun was shin
ing brightly, but the promise of winter’s first snowfall was days away.
He stalked off, with no particular place in mind, he just needed to be moving, his mind was his worst enemy right now, and he needed to get it right before he could face Kelli again. Her words had wounded him greatly, angered him, confused him, made him sick to his stomach and worse, almost made justifiable sense. And that thought made him hate himself even more.
Something wasn’t right in Sanctuary. Something sinister was happening right in front of everyone and he needed to find out what, not only so Auska’s name could know peace but so the people of Sanctuary could know the truth. Then and only then could Sanctuary become what it should have always been.
Before he realized it, he was standing outside Preston’s shelter. It was an old structure, once the work camp’s small mailing house; now turned into the small home of one of the oldest people living in Sanctuary.
Preston had been one of the first settlers, had come within the first few months that Sanctuary was first being established. He knew the whole history; every nail hammered, every bullet fired, every person that lived and died there.
“What are you doing here now?” a gruff voice barked out. “It’s not time yet you fucking idiot! Were you followed?”
Vincent was stirred from his thoughts and saw the older man moving around from the back of the shack; the sixty-three-year-old looked none too impressed to see him. “I’m… I’m not sure. I was just going for a walk and ended up here I guess.”
“You guess?” he questioned, his eyes searching all around them for any hint of movement.
Cocking an eyebrow, Vincent began looking around, confused and suddenly worried. “I’m not sure… I wasn’t trying to hide my movements. As I said I was just walking. Needed to clear my head.”
“Well, get your ass inside already before anyone sees you, damn it!” he growled, stomping off into his house. “And close the damn door!”
Unsure of what was happening, Vincent quickly followed the old man and closed the door as he had said. “Look, Preston, I’m not sure what this is about or anything. I really was just going for a walk.”
“Don’t play stupid with me. You’re here, which means you found my note,” he said, putting a kettle on a small propane burner to boil water.
Now Vincent truly was confused. “Note? What note?”
Preston turned a dangerous eye on him. “The note I left inside your boot,” he looked down and cursed. “Those aren’t the boots I put the note in!”
“Note? Note about what? Jesus, what the hell are you talking about man?”
“About meeting me tonight! Not in the middle of the fucking afternoon!”
Vincent sat down on a chair by a small table. “Okay, now I truly am confused.”
“I am guessing the other set of boots were Kelli’s?” he asked with all seriousness.
“Well, yes they had to be.”
“I am assuming since she didn’t give you the note that she must have not seen it and it is still in the boot. When she takes them off, be sure to remove the note and destroy it or we all might regret it.”
“Okay, what the fuck is going on?” Vincent burst out.
Preston moved to the window and looked out from the crack in the thick curtains. “Keep your fucking voice down idiot! Look, the more time we waste the more likely we will get caught talking and then we both will have more problems than we will know what to do with.”
Vincent threw up her arms in defeat. “I am all ears for whatever it is you feel you need to tell me.”
“Your suspicions are likely correct.” He poured two cups with steaming water and added a random teabag to each and handed one to his unexpected visitor.
“My suspicions?” Vincent knew what he was talking about, but this topic was a dangerous one, and letting it slip out to just anyone would be stupid.
“I said enough with the dance. You know what I mean. The council, the missing or ‘sick’ folk.” He sighed. “I have lived here a long time, and I have witnessed a lot, and slowly pieced together all the small but subtle changes that have occurred. And when I heard you talking to Kelli after what happened with Auska, it was like a key piece that I had been missing clicked.”
“So, you believe the council is trading its own people for supplies then?” Vincent asked, excited to finally be talking about it to someone who believed in the possibility.
The older man sipped his tea. “After what your girl told you before they took her away and killed her, there isn’t a doubt in my mind anymore.”
The reminder made him wince. “So, she caught them in the act, and they lied to justify killing her to keep the secret?”
“It would seem most likely.”
“Holy fuck. We need to tell everyone,” Vincent stammered. “People need to know this. Then we can storm the council’s little castle and put an end to this!”
“That would just get us killed, and likely not as nice as Auska died, granted.”
Vincent was confused. “Not once the secret is out! Once we blow the whistle, everyone will know. Then any move made against us would only prove it!”
“And we’d still be dead and I’ll not be made a martyr, not like that anyway,” Preston told him without give. “Besides, not a single soul out there is going to believe a word we say, at least not without solid proof. They are cattle, Vincent. They will do and believe what they are told because a carrot of safety and a full belly dangle in front of them.”
Vincent was about to argue the fact, but the man was correct. The people here had come to rely on the council and all it did for them. They trusted them, revered them in a way. The council gave them all the safety of Sanctuary. If he tried to blow the whistle without solid proof, all they would hear is fabrications from a man whose adopted daughter betrayed them and murdered several of their own. No, Preston was correct, they needed real hard evidence.
“How do we get that proof?”
Preston looked out the window again. “Million fucking dollar question right there. But I may have some clues that might lead to some solid evidence. About twelve maybe thirteen years ago, near the same time the first major ‘accident’ happened and people went missing, a friend of mine told me the council was digging a secret tunnel out of Sanctuary, in the event we were overrun and needed to get out. Claimed he was one of the workers on the job and was sworn to secrecy with the promise of extra rations for the next five years. Now, he was a drunkard and wasn’t sober when he told me, so I passed it off as bollocks, but he was one of the first to have an ‘accident’ and go missing. Along with several others who often were gone long weeks at a time, ‘scouting’ the area. People who, as I recall now, were awful quiet and strangely secretive.”
Vincent was listening intently. “So, you believe there is a tunnel, and that would be how they transferred the ‘sick’ outside without anyone seeing? Claim they died and the bodies had to be burned before anything could spread!” He slapped his leg. “Fuck, it makes so much sense.”
“It does, now the only problem is finding the fucking thing to prove it. I have a few ideas but nothing for sure, though if I were a betting man, I would suspect it was somewhere close to the infirmary. And I’ll tell you this right now, son: you’ll be doing this on your own. If you can find it and find enough proof, I’ll stand by you, but I’ll not get myself killed for anything. I’ve survived too long to go out like that.”
“Well, if I can find this tunnel and where it leads, maybe I’ll be able to find all the proof we need. Then we can turn the tides and expose the council for what they are!”
Preston waved him silent, as he perked up. “Someone is outside!” he whispered and went to a picture on the wall, which moved aside, and he peered out a small hole. “Two of them. It’s Tavish from the First Division and another fellow.” He replaced the picture and cursed. “Damn it, they know you are here! Or they are looking for you!”
Vincent’s heart began beating faster. With everything they had just talked
about, then it was likely they were indeed keeping tabs on him. “Shit, is there anywhere in here I can hide?”
Preston rolled his eyes. “Don’t be fucking stupid! That’ll never work if they come to the door, idiot.”
“Fine, just play along then!” Vincent grumbled, pulling a plan from his ass, knowing he needed to leave before any more suspicion could be cast.
“What the fuck are you doing!” Preston went to grab for him, but Vincent was already opening the door and stepping out.
“Look, Preston, I like you, I really do old man, and I thank you for the cup of tea,” Vincent began, “but any tea or coffee that was brought it this week is to be rationed out during mealtimes. I can’t trade food supplies under the table like that. You out of all people should know this.”
Preston caught on quickly. “I know, I know, I wasn’t trying to make it sound like that, but if you could ask the council on my behalf, maybe they’d listen to you. Winter is coming around, and something warm on those bitter cold nights help this old body sleep just a little bit better.”
Vincent threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, I will ask them when next I get the chance, but I make no promises. Now I have to get back to the kitchens and start getting dinner ready or I am going to have a lot of pissed-off hungry people.”
With that said Vincent turned and walked away, catching from the corner of his eyes the two men hiding in the shadows of several small trees. Good, he thought, that would curb any suspicions they might think… at least he hoped so. Suddenly this was becoming all too real and all too dangerous. But the danger he could manage if it meant finding out the truth and exposing the lies, for all of them… and Auska.
“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.”
“Yes, yes, of course. What news do you have that is so important to bother us?”
“Someone knows the truth or is close to the truth.”
“Vincent?”
“No, but they tried to contact him. A note was found, they were to meet up tonight, by the old water tower.”
What Remains (Book 2): What's Left Page 12
