“I’ll be honest. It wouldn’t have surprised me if people rioted over the results,” said Collin.
She laughed.
“Has everyone simply resigned themselves to this fate? Or is their faith in the pastor and the Lord just that strong?” Colin shrugged.
“Oh sweetie, this is the world we live in now. I know it’s new to you, but we’ve lived like this for a long time,” said Doris. She patted his arm. “Death is a blessing. A release from the constant struggle and fear.”
Collin couldn’t believe it.
“Think back to the world you knew before,” she said placing her hands on his shoulders. “What was everyone’s preferred way to die, if given a choice?”
Collin’s shoulders fell. His head bowed. Then he looked into her eyes. “Peacefully, in their sleep.”
“Exactly.” She patted his cheek. Then she turned and put an arm around his waist. Collin followed her slowly to the window.
“You know, our men and women died from arrows and bombs,” Doris said softly. “Falling asleep doesn’t sound like such a bad option. Whether it’s old age or the fever matters not. The Lord will bring me home when He’s ready for me.”
Collin pulled her into a hug.
She giggled and squeezed him. “It was very sweet of you to try to tell me.”
Collin smiled. “Why did you assume you weren’t on the list?”
Doris sighed.
“I’m old, dear. I can’t fight, and I don’t go to church as often as I should. Either of which is cause enough to keep me out of the ‘lottery.’” Doris made air quotes around the word lottery. “This isn’t the first time either.”
“You didn’t make the lottery before? How did you survive?”
“The first time, Pastor Pendell and the Council managed to get more medicine. Another time it was winter.”
“In winter?” Collin thought surviving during winter would be more difficult.
“Well, there’s no pollen during the winter, silly.” Doris nudged him with her elbow. “So the chances of getting the fever during winter are almost zero. But the snow doesn’t last forever and spring brings death. Time is never on our side.”
Collin thought about that. Winter was a sort of safe zone. Winter is when he would leave Goshen to search for his family. If they survived this long without him, they could survive until winter.
“Winter. At least we have something to look forward to,” said Collin.
Doris looked skeptical.
“Don’t forget you woke up just before Easter, and winter is a long way off. If we last that long,” she said with a shiver. “And while the river doesn’t always freeze over, if it does the Vipers will sneak across and steal our food. With so few Eagles left to defend us, I fear there will be little we can do. Yesterday’s attack may have been the beginning of the end for our little town.”
“Don’t say that, Doris. We will figure something out,” Collin said. He felt the conviction in his voice and realized he meant it.
“We’ll see.” She turned away from the window and faced the room. She looked at the people eating quietly. “You’re a good man, Collin. We did the right thing praying for you all those years, we are lucky to have you with us. But in this case, the people who fall asleep may just end up being the lucky ones.”
Chapter Fourteen
Collin leaned back in the padded wood chair and kicked his feet up on the railing. In his hands, he held a mason jar of steaming black coffee. After the last few days, he came to enjoy drinking his coffee out of a glass mason jar. The strong, earthy scent drifted up while he enjoyed the quiet morning.
When Koby showed him the coffee orchard he had raised inside one of the greenhouses, Collin actually whooped with joy.
Three weeks had passed since the lottery notices were posted. Goshen had turned into a virtual ghost town. No longer was it the thriving dystopian capital it had seemed to be when Collin first woke up. Residents feared another attack by the Vipers, and they went about their daily activities with less vigor. Many of the residents simply opted to stay home as much as possible.
Collin attended church every Sunday and attendance dropped noticeably every week. It was unsettling to know people were slipping into fever-induced comas. Yet, even some of those who received inoculations stopped showing up for service. Sometimes Collin questioned why he bothered going. For the town, it felt like there was a real shift in attitudes and Collin wasn’t sure what that meant for the future of Goshen.
Worrying to say the least, he thought.
He pushed those thoughts aside to watch the sunrise, a new habit he picked up over the last few weeks.
Sunlight lanced through the spaces between mountain peaks, casting beams of light down into the valley. Like spotlights moving slowly across the valley floor, as birds arose and began to sing, the light grew in intensity as the sun rose. Halos of orange and yellow light back lit the mountain peaks. A cool breeze carried the scent of damp soil, half-composted leaves, and pine trees. Collin called it forest cologne. He took a big breath enjoying the freshness that calmed his soul.
Although Collin couldn’t see the river, he could hear the water rushing through the hydroelectric dam that kept their town powered. Collin sipped his coffee and watched fog running down the mountainsides, desperate to escape the sun’s rays.
He thought he heard a turkey gobble behind his house. It would be fun to go hunting. Right now thought, he was too content to move. Besides, Collin was an Eagle now. Given his unique skill set, it was clearly the most suitable job for him. He could leave the hunting and trapping to the capable citizens assigned to those tasks.
Their skills at harvesting the bounty of the river, and surrounding woodlands, were evident in the number of fur hats and coats among the townsfolk, a necessity as their manufactured nylon, fleece, and Gore-Tex jackets wore out from years of hard use.
Collin stood up and took a big gulp of coffee. It warmed his belly and satisfied his reacquired caffeine addiction. He leaned on the railing and smiled at the beauty laid out before him. He had an amazingly good view from his home. For the first time since his awakening, he felt blessed.
Buzzing drew his attention away from the splendor of nature. A bee zipped by Collin, dipping and swerving through the air. It was the first bee Collin had seen, supposedly a rare sight these days. Collin walked down his front steps as the bee flew along the tops of the bushes that lined his porch, then it reversed course, and dipped down by the sidewalk. The small honeysuckle plant that had sprouted up from a crack in the sidewalk made a perfect landing pad for Collin’s insect visitor.
Collin crouched down and watched the bee at work on the fresh blooms.
“Hey there,” he said. “I thought you guys were all gone?”
The bee hopped and buzzed from one flower to the next, extracting the minute yellow powder that was the cause of so many problems.
“I’ll have to tell my friend, Koby, about you,” Collin said with a smile. He stood as the bee flew away seeking more flowers to pollinate.
How could a world so beautiful and peaceful be so deadly? he thought.
Collin stretched and finished his coffee. He then turned to make his way back inside the house for another cup of Koby’s greenhouse arabica. His mind kept working through the questions that remained. How did this all get so out of hand? Why weren’t people more responsive to the plight of bees, and nature as a whole, before it became a critical problem?
His family was always in the back of his mind. Over the weeks, Collin had experienced more memories resurfacing. He still had the problem where faces were blurred out. None of his family members would be recognizable to him. They could walk right past and he’d never know them from the next person.
Collin started up the stairs and gripped the rail for support. It felt wobbly. He stopped and examined it.
I’ll have to fix that, he thought. Then he laughed.
It was the first time he thought of the gifted house as his own. The blue house
at the end of the street was his and it truly felt like home. Goshen felt like home too. He cared about what happened to the town and the people in it. He hoped his family would feel the same when he found them.
He rushed up the stairs to refill his coffee jar. He couldn’t spend the entire morning sitting around. There was serious work to do around town.
After he got ready, and finished his second jar of coffee, Collin went outside and started down the stairs.
One of the steps creaked. It was the first time he noticed it. He stepped back and tested the wood stairs. It creaked again, revealing its location.
“You’re next after I fix the railing,” he said. Noting the location of the creak, he left his house, crunching his way down the gravel road toward the Goshen High School gymnasium. He had some training to attend to with Major Logan.
The day after the lottery notices went out; they began training the new Eagle recruits. Collin enjoyed the work. It gave him something productive to focus on. A great side benefit was his rapidly improving strength and endurance. He’d felt soft when he woke up in the hospital. Now his muscles were already rebuilding, growing full and powerful.
He strode down the street looking around, hoping to see another bee or some other surprise. Collin waved at the people he passed in the road. It was a typical morning. Nothing exciting happened along the way. When the school was in sight, Collin felt a burst of energy and decided to jog the last block.
When he reached the building, his breathing was still light. It felt great to stride down the road like a kid just having fun. Collin pulled the old metal door open. It creaked loudly, announcing his presence.
Inside, Major Logan was pumping out push-ups. Collin smiled. Major Logan must be feeling energetic today too.
“Up and at it early, eh Major?”
Major Logan paused briefly between push-ups and said, “We have to train harder than the Vipers if we want to win.”
“In this situation, define winning,” Collin said. “I was under the impression we were defending and surviving. We aren’t going out after the Vipers. And what good is winning if there’s nothing left in the end?”
Major Logan hopped up, wiping sweat from his brow. He walked over, scowling, and stopped right in front of Collin.
“I’m a winner,” Major Logan said.
Collin wasn’t impressed. He looked at the major for a moment before turning away. It was too early for that kind of bullshit, as far as Collin was concerned. Thankfully, Major Logan didn’t pursue it any further.
Collin walked a few paces away and started stretching out.
Major Logan began a set of bodyweight squats.
The door creaked open and a pair of recruits entered the gym.
Not wanting to leave any tension between him and the major, Collin glanced at him and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m sure glad Koby had the foresight and resources to grow coffee.”
The major grunted.
“While I was drinking my first cup this morning, I saw a bee. It buzzed past me and landed on a flower growing out of my sidewalk,” he said.
Major Logan stopped his squats and laughed at him. “Did you spike your coffee? There hasn’t been a bee in Montana for at least nine years.” He shook his head and began doing walking lunges across the gym.
Collin made a face. Then he got down and started his own set of push-ups. He didn’t need to prove himself to the major. He knew he wasn’t imagining things; his encounter with the bee was as real and beautiful as the sunrise.
Nine years? Collin thought as he barely finished twenty-five push-ups. That surprising nugget of information made him feel even more excited to tell Koby.
He stood and stretched out his chest and arms. Collin shook his head. He might feel stronger, but twenty-five push-ups — pshhh — he still had a long way to go.
Once all the recruits arrived, Major Logan formed them up. They took a quick roll call, started with some warm-ups and stretches, before beginning a tough physical training session. Soon everyone was sweating, huffing and puffing, and looking forward to skill classes.
By 10:00AM, they had broken into two groups. Major Logan took his group to the far side of the gym and worked on basic hand-to-hand combat techniques. Collin taught a basic knife fighting class.
He reviewed the warrior stance with the recruits since it was basis of the techniques he was about to teach them. Collin had no recollection of learning it himself. Again, he only knew for certain that he knew the techniques backwards and forwards.
Once the review was complete, he passed out rubber training knives from the police station. Training aids from the old days.
“Okay so from the warrior stance, we’ll call this ‘home’. You hold the knife in your strong hand. Use the same kind of grip you would use to hold a hammer,” Collin said. “Glen, what the hell kind of hammer have you been holding?”
Collin corrected his form. The students chuckled.
“Hold up your knife hand, at the ready, just like a normal fighting stance. Keep your empty hand up. It’s your guard hand, use it to protect your neck. Good.” Collin walked around checking everyone. “Pretty simple, right?”
“The training manuals will tell you that your primary goal is to strike your enemy’s vital areas - face, the front and side of the neck, or abdomen.” Collin swiped his finger at each area so the recruits could visualize it. “In real life, take any strike you can get. His palm, forearm, thigh, hell - even his foot. A cut will distract, demoralize, and weaken your enemy. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a good strike, cause massive trauma and then you can bide your time, or move on to the next enemy while the first guy bleeds out.”
“That’s awful,” one lady muttered.
“It is awful, Sandy. But they want to do worse to you. This is war. We are fighting for survival. When you’re at the point where you’re using knives, there is no room for hesitation. No room for mercy,” Collin said, clapping his hands for emphasis. “Strike first. Strike hard. Put them down.”
Carrying the momentum, Collin shouted his favorite new cadence call. “Eagles strike!”
“Vipers die!” shouted the recruits in response.
“Goddamn right.” Collin smiled at them. “You carry the fight to the enemy. Right, Sandy?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“We step toward the enemy. Never back.” He jogged to the front of their formation, so everyone could see him. “This is your basic knife attack. A simple thrust.”
He demonstrated the stabbing move several times. Then he turned toward the formation.
“Home position everyone, basic warrior stance. When I say strike, you stab forward with your knife. Twist your hip like I showed you to put power into the move,” he said. “Strike.”
“Kill,” they said in unison as they practiced the move.
“Strike.”
“Kill.”
He repeated it several more times, then had them stand easy while he demonstrated a basic slashing move. After a few more revolutions, the recruits were familiar with several thrusting and slashing attacks.
Just before it was time to break for lunch, Major Logan called for everyone to form up. At some point, a large wrestling mat was placed in the center of the gym. Collin had been so focused on knife training that he didn’t even notice. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but the look on Major Logan’s face and the faces of the existing Eagles made him feel uneasy.
Major Logan stepped onto the mat, looking around at all the recruits.
“Learning the moves of basic self-defense is not enough. You must learn to use the moves like a gladiator in a ring. You must practice them, execute them. They must become a part of you, they must become your natural, instinctive reaction to aggression.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stood straight. “Sean, Cali to the center of the mat.”
The two recruits stepped out onto the mat, uncertain why they were called on. Major Logan turned to them and smiled like a fox in a hen house.
/>
“You two will demonstrate your proficiency,” Major Logan said looking at each recruit. “You will fight until knock out or tap out.”
Sean smiled and eyed Cali as if she was a steak at dinnertime. Cali looked unsure, but quickly put on a tough face. Collin knew she wanted to be an Eagle and that she worked hard to prove she deserved it. That kind of bravado was admirable but had to be tempered to avoid unnecessary casualties.
Collin couldn’t believe Major Logan would do this. There was little practical value in pitting a small, young woman against a much larger, young man. Neither of them were proficient enough to do more than spar with someone their own size. One or both of them would end up seriously injured.
Collin felt a pang of guilt for assuming that Cali would lose. In actuality, either recruit was just as likely to win. Size didn’t always count for much when it came to combat. Despite his reservations, he decided to stand back and see how it unfolded. If things got out of control, he had no problem stepping in to break them up.
Even if it meant contradicting Major Logan.
An Eagle stepped onto the mat, holding a whistle in his mouth. The two recruits faced each other. The Eagle held out his hand with three fingers held up. He counted down — three, two, one — then blew the whistle.
Both of the recruits stood still for a moment. Then Cali began to circle. Sean followed her movements.
The crowd was murmuring, but no one was cheering for either side. Collin felt like they were waiting, unsure who to root for, or perhaps unsure who it was safe to root for. Sean was a big, muscular, young man. He’d been working in the fields as a farm hand before this. Collin remembered hearing someone say that he also helped the logging crew when they needed to process downed trees. Sean was also known for having a short temper.
Unwilling to wait any longer, Sean lunged forward and jabbed at Cali. She dipped sideways to avoid any contact and stepped sideways. Sean smirked.
He readjusted his position and faced Cali again. Sean jabbed again but this was a feint. He lashed out with a vicious low kick that nearly caught Cali on the shin. Had it connected, Sean would have snapped her leg.
Praying for War: The Collin War Chronicles Page 13
