by T A Williams
“A housing shortage?” Freddie took a step closer to Landon. “We have a housing shortage because you all destroyed the homes of most of these people. Don’t call it a fucking housing shortage.”
Landon finally turned his attention to Freddie and there was malice in his eyes. Trevor stepped in between the two and gently pushed Freddie back.
“Freddie, go inside,” Alec said as calmly as he could. “Trevor, please find these guys a place where they can set up. I’d like to talk to Landon alone.” He waited for the men to file past them and get out of earshot. “What the hell is this about, Landon? He knew this wasn’t going to go over well. Is this some kind of test?”
“The man is paranoid,” Landon said frankly. “This will make him feel better.”
Alec threw his hands up in the air before catching himself and taking in a deep breath. “All that talk about salvaging and developing a relationship, and this is what he does? Is he trying to provoke us?”
“It’s simple. You either allow these men to stay here like they were ordered or you kick them out. In the first choice you get to continue living; in the other you don’t.”
“How long?”
“Until Noah feels comfortable.”
The world wobbled for a few seconds before stabilizing. “Anything else?”
“In a couple of days we’re going to drop off three transport trucks. From now on you all will deliver the food shipments to us directly.”
Alec clenched his fists but his face remained calm. “Understood. That it?”
“For now.” Landon turned and walked back down the road toward the trucks. They started the other two trucks but left one behind.
Alec turned and used his cane to walk back toward his house. Freddie was outside the door and ran over to him.
“What happened? Are they leaving?” he asked.
Alec merely looked at him.
“Son-of-a-bitch. Do you want me to get the Council together?”
“There isn’t really anything to talk about now. Fill everyone in. Tell them to stay inside unless necessary and to stay away from Noah’s men.”
Freddie nodded and left.
Alec walked inside his house and got as far as the kitchen before everything hit him. The world tilted before he closed his eyes and started taking calming breaths. This was only a temporary thing. They just needed to let Noah feel in power and then he would pull the men and things would get better. As Alec turned to leave the kitchen, his foot hit the wooden box that Noah had given him. He cracked open the lid and looked inside at over a dozen bottles of scotch. For a second he just stared at them, then he reached in and grabbed a bottle. He poured a splash of the brown liquid into a cup and in one swift motion threw it back. The liquid scorched his throat as it went down and then set his stomach on fire. Alec coughed and looked through his watery eyes for a glass of water to put out the flames raging in his stomach before they finally subsided on their own. Within a few seconds his head felt lighter and a feeling of calm washed over him. Things would get better.
Ally
She watched the flame from the candle flicker in and out of existence as the wind from the nearby window blew past. The flame scattered the darkness and caused the shadows to dance across the rear wall. The room was quiet, solemn. They had spent nearly two whole days trapped in the dark basement with the smell of smoke as their constant companion. They had survived on the small cache of water bottles in the basement as they gradually dug their way out of the destroyed house. When they finally emerged in the middle of the night, they were met by the sight of destruction. The missiles the helicopters rained down had destroyed nearly every building in the town. The few that remained still bore the scars of the attack. Ally had been on the verge of crying that night until they made their way out of town and found that Adam’s home, along with the few others that lived on the outskirts, still stood.
Adam did cry when he saw her. He had believed she, along with everyone else caught in the attack, had been killed. After walking through the destruction of the town, Ally could understand why he believed that. Over the next couple of days they went out to the town at night to attempt to find survivors. After three nights they had only managed to find five people still alive. The others had either escaped or were buried forever under the debris. The collection of four homes on the outskirts contained roughly two dozen souls, six of whom were soldiers, including Maclin. He took the few individuals who were capable of walking and set up warnings for the soldiers were who supposed to come home to help protect the President. On the warning signs he included a code word that he said would direct the soldiers to a safe place where they could meet up later. Ally remembered Maclin as a carefree soul who was always on the cusp of smiling or telling a joke; now his one good eye was always distant and the light had dimmed.
The candle flickered again as Adam walked over and sat down next to her. The living room seemed like a giant cave with the single candle in the middle. The man gave her a strained smile and handed her a water bottle. Ally took a swig of the warm liquid and closed her eyes as it flowed down her throat and into her stomach.
“You feeling ok?” he asked.
Ally’s arms, legs and face were covered in scratches and bruises. The basement had protected them from most of the debris when the house collapsed on itself, but digging out with little more than their hands had caused a lot of personal damage.
“I’m ok,” Ally said as Adam looked over her bandages and scratches for any sign of infection.
Once done he sat back and stared at the flame alongside her. “We’re going to be ok, you know. The farms on the outskirt weren’t touched. We have more than enough food to last us.” Adam didn’t even try to look convinced.
“How is Coby?”
Adam looked across the room where Coby was curled up in his sleeping bag, lost in a world of dreams. “He’s doing all right. He’s tough, like you.”
“Dena’s safe. I’ll get her back.”
Adam sat up, a look of worry on his face. “You’ll stay away from there. I’m not going to have you running off trying to be a hero. Those are trained soldiers. They aren’t starving bandits or reckless raiders. They are well trained and heavily armed.”
Ally didn’t have the energy to argue so she looked away.
“Ally, please. I have enough to worry about.”
Maclin walked over and looked down at them. “Do you mind if I sit?”
“No, of course not,” Adam said, still looking for some kind of answer from Ally.
Maclin plopped down and unfurled a map next to the candle, using its light to review it.
“What are you looking for?” Ally asked.
Maclin didn’t look up from the map. “Looking for the safest route to the rendezvous point. Enough time has passed that I’m sure there have to be quite a few of our men waiting there for further orders.” Maclin looked up at the both of them. “We need to get to them.”
“For what purpose?” Adam asked.
“Is that really a question you have to ask?”
“And what happens when you hit back? You think they aren’t going to send their helicopters on another run? You think they’re going to leave any houses standing this time?” Adam’s voice was soft but still echoed throughout the room.
“We can bring the civilians back to the rendezvous point. It’ll be safer there and there should be plenty of supplies.” Maclin’s voice was even and calm. “We don’t have the supplies or manpower to rebuild this place anyway.”
Adam opened and closed his mouth several times. “And…what about the prisoners? You think they are going to leave them alive if you attack?”
“Our primary goal will be to find and secure the prisoners.”
“And if you fail?” Adam asked, his face beginning to get red.
“And if we do nothing? You’d prefer we just leave the prisoners there? You think they will be ok with having a bunch of people that do nothing but eat up their resources?”
Adam looked to Al
ly, who laid a hand on his shoulder.
Maclin’s face softened and he took in a deep breath. “I’m scared too, but we can’t let our fear paralyze us. Their presence will grow and when it does it will get harder and harder to hit back. We have to do everything in our power to rid them from this place or they will never leave.”
Adam dropped his head and shook it several times. “People are going to get killed.”
“Yes, they are,” Maclin said matter-of-factly. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we are going to start gathering our supplies. We need to head out soon.” He folded up his map, placed it in his pack and then stood up and walked away.
Adam looked to Ally and then looked back to the flame. She laid her head on his shoulder.
“It will be ok,” she told him. She knew she didn’t sound convincing.
Ben
The ash swirled over the blackened remains of the town. The fires only lasted a night, the smoke lasted two more nights after that, but nearly a week after the destruction the smell remained. It was the smell of fire, ash and death. That night had been filled with screams of pain and anguish but when the sun came up it was replaced by an eerie quiet. Ben had argued they needed to mount a rescue operation to assist the injured civilians but Locke had refused; instead, Ben was forced to sit back, knowing that dozens of people were out there dying. To make matters worse, he learned that same night that Ambassador Berger had been moved to their original operating base, leaving the answers he was so desperately seeking just out of reach. Until now.
His truck rumbled down the roadway, past the destruction of the town and toward the base. While whatever remained of the pretender’s forces were still deemed to be a threat, it had been decided they were a manageable one. Daily convoys made their way from the operating base to the courthouse and with them came news of the rise of their strength. The transports continued to come with more men, weapons and supplies. Ben had heard the talk but when they pulled up to the once-abandoned mall he saw it for himself. Barricades had been put up along the building and the doors and windows had been reinforced. They had either expected more resistance or they were planning on turning this mall into a permanent base.
Ben got out, with Ty at his side. He had told Ty about his conversation with the person claiming to be Sylvia Carter and his conversation with Locke. Ty looked exactly how Ben felt.
“You going to Berger?” Ty asked once they were far enough away from the truck.
“I have to get answers.”
“I’m here when you need me, B.”
Ben headed toward the entrance to the mall when one of the soldiers came up to him. “You need to report to Central Command for debrief.”
Ben looked past the soldier. “Can it wait?”
“No sir.”
Ben held back a sigh. “All right, lead the way.”
They walked into the mall and Ben noticed security had been beefed up considerably. Every window was either guarded or boarded, and there were dozens of soldiers standing at attention, fully armed. It didn’t make sense they would still be on this high an alert. The soldier led him deeper into the mall, past more armed soldiers, until they finally arrived at the remains of a Barnes and Noble. The soldier stepped aside and Ben walked in. Less than fifty yards from him sat President Johnson at a large table with a cup of coffee in his hand. He waved Ben over and they shared a firm handshake.
“Good to see you again, son. Please have a seat.”
Ben sat down at the table and noticed the dozen soldiers stationed all around them. At least now he knew why security had been beefed up. “Mr. President, uh…what are you doing here?”
He laughed. “We’ve just taken the final step in bringing our country back together. You think I want to be halfway across the country when that happens?”
“I…guess not. Still, there is still the possibility of a decent sized force out there that-”
“Now, don’t worry about my safety,” Johnson said with a smile. “Have a drink.”
Someone brought him over a steaming cup of coffee. For a second Ben just stared at it.
“Everything all right, son?”
“Uh, yes sir. It’s just…I’ve actually never had coffee before,” Ben said.
Johnson nodded sadly. “I forget you were young when everything happened. Too young to have coffee when our country fell apart, yet still you have played such a large part in helping to put it back together. Absolutely amazing.”
Ben took a small sip of the warm liquid and felt it flow down his throat and into his stomach. “It’s good,” he said before he had actually made up his mind either way.
“Hell, if you like this stuff you would have loved the old stuff. Before we lost power.” Johnson took another drink and then placed his cup on the table. “This was nasty business. How are you doing?”
“Good,” Ben lied. “Just glad it’s over so we can start picking up the pieces again.”
“Indeed,” Johnson said, slapping the table once forcefully. “We’re interviewing the enemy and going through their documents to locate and reacquire lost assets.”
“Locke said that they had other bases?”
“They did. The same time you all were storming their castle, we were hitting them with the last of our usable long range missiles. We took out their bases but I understand that there are still going to be loyal men and women willing to lay their lives down for that woman. Which is why she is still alive.”
Ben hadn’t thought it was a choice on whether she remain a prisoner or be executed. Apparently it had been. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand, sir.”
“If she pretended to be Carter because her intention was to save people’s lives then it will be easy to convince her to admit her lie. She admits it, then the majority of the resistance forces will stand down. If she did it because she desired nothing more than power, then it will be difficult.”
“Do we know she pretended?” Ben asked.
Johnson paused what he was doing and sat back in his chair, regarding Ben carefully. “Locke told me you went to talk to her. Was she able to convince you of her lie too? I have a photo of the real Sylvia Carter if you need it.”
“No sir. I…saw the photo. Of course, she claims it is phony.”
Johnson stared at him for a few moments in silence. “What else did she claim?”
“Nothing really,” Ben said, trying not to shift or fidget. “We didn’t talk long. I only wanted to know why she did it. Why she lied.”
“Power,” Johnson said forcefully. “The same reason must people do anything questionable. Before the world turned dark it was either power or money. Now that money is worthless, it is just that one thing. I don’t really blame her. Back in the day I was the same way, always striving for more and more power. Now that I have it, I find it….wanting.” Johnson trailed off for a moment then snapped back. “Anyway, I’m having a small get-together here shortly. The old movie theater in this mall has quite the banquet room that I’m looking to put back into use. There will just be a few people but plenty of drinks and food. Want to head over?”
“Of course,” Ben said. “Will Ambassador Berger be there?”
Johnson’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m not sure. I’m sure she will drop by before the night is over.”
The door opened moments later and several soldiers walked in and led them through the mall to the banquet room. The small group grew larger as more soldiers and civilians joined their trek. Some of the soldiers Ben recognized but most of the civilians were unknown or new. They entered the banquet hall, which was nothing more than an extremely large and open room, but there were tables upon tables of cooked meat and drinks sat out before them. The group of around thirty stopped in the middle of the hall while the President walked out in front of them and then turned to address them.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. This celebration is dedicated to you. Some of you served on the front lines when we raided the pretender’s base. Others of you put yourselves in harm’s way to obt
ain and provide much needed intel. It is thanks to you that we may be able to bring this country back together again. So please, drink up, eat your fill and enjoy the night.”
The President stood in front of them until the cheers and clapping stopped, then merged back into the crowd. From there people broke up into several small groups and began to talk. Ben found himself on the outside looking in. A few people nodded as they walked past him but most ignored him completely. Ben grabbed a drink from one of the tables and stood off in the corner and watched. His mind drifted to Crimson, Ty and the rest of his lost unit. He remembered the dark, cold nights in New York when they huddled together, always listening and waiting for a possible attack; all the while their stomachs rumbled because they never had enough food. Now he was sitting in a warm banquet hall with all the food he could ever want.
He found it fascinating watching the groups of people interact. All of them clumped together talking and most moved from group to group but the largest was always the group around Johnson. It was never more than eight or nine people at a time, but everyone in the group seemed to hold their heads higher while they were there. The other groups hovered around them and whenever someone was called over they were all smiles and when they were dismissed they seemed deflated. As the night dragged on the groups got smaller and the chatter began to die down.
Ben attempted to get out of his chair and the world swirled about and it felt like he was floating. He looked down at his drink and struggled to remember which glass he was on. One of the servers walked by and offered him another glass. He hesitated for a moment but waved him away. Ben had to concentrate to stand up and walk over to the President without tripping over his own feet, and by the time he finally made it over he had broken out in a sweat. The members of the group seemed to stare at him as if he was from another world, or at least that was how it felt, but the President saw him and smiled.
“Ben, where have you been all night?” The President took a step to the side to keep his balance and Ben realized he wasn’t the only one with too much to drink.
