by West, Lee
“I wonder what they have for us today?” said Mike.
“I’ll eat anything at this point,” said Frank.
“Me too. I wish I’d brought more of the survival cakes from the lifeboat!” said Mike.
“Those things were so gross. I don’t know how you ate so many of them!” said Meg.
“Seriously. I’ve never seen someone enjoying those things so much!” said Frank.
“What can I say? I have simple tastes. A hunk of sugar is pretty much all I need,” said Mike, smiling.
“I hope they have something a little better than those for lunch today. I’m famished,” said Joe.
“We volunteered to stand watch at one of the locations outside,” said Meg.
“I’d like to do that as well. Who should I talk to?” asked Mike.
“We talked to Ed. He seems to be the one running the watch-standing schedule,” said Joe.
One of the men who worked in the kitchen came into the conference room with a large bowl of food. He set it down on the table they used for the buffet line and left the room. Moments later a woman came into the room with several smaller containers of food.
“All set! Help yourselves!” said the woman.
Meg did all she could to remain seated. She didn’t want to be the first one to run for the buffet line. She noticed that others in the room shifted in their seats awkwardly, likely thinking the same thing.
“I’m not shy!” said Frank, slapping the table and standing up.
Once Frank approached the bowls of food, the rest followed.
Having returned to the table with his bounty, Joe said, “My favorite! Canned bean salad and canned mixed tropical fruit!”
“Sort of makes me wonder if the food is better in one of the government prison camps,” said Nancy, joining them.
At the start of their adventure together, Meg didn’t care for Nancy’s company. As time went by, she found the woman’s caustic wit to be a much-needed relief in times of high stress.
“We would’ve had better food for a little while if we’d stayed on the cruise ship. I suspect the staff would’ve done everything they could to give the appearance that things were just fine,” said Brett.
“You’re probably right. Everything would’ve appeared fine, until it wasn’t,” said Nancy.
“I’m relieved we did what we did. Who knows where that ship is right now. Could be anywhere,” said Frank.
“If I stayed on board, worrying about my family would’ve destroyed me,” said Mike.
“Is it better on land? Given what we found at your house and in the city?” asked Brett.
“Probably. At least I’m not visualizing them alone in the house, slowly starving to death or being attacked by strangers. Somehow, knowing they’re in government custody eased those worries, even though I’m now worried about them being in custody. At least they aren’t starving to death alone in the house.”
Meg couldn’t help but notice the catch in Mike’s voice as he talked about his family. She and Joe had promised they would help Mike find his wife and children. She felt very strongly about keeping their promise. Mike and Frank could have easily left the two of them on the doomed cruise ship. Instead, they’d trusted the couple enough to bring them into their bold plan. She and Joe knew they needed to repay Mike’s kindness by helping him find his family.
— 3 —
Nancy sat with Brett in her office, cherishing the scarce time alone with her husband. Their new circumstances did not allow for much individual privacy, despite their best efforts. Even sneaking off into a dark corner of the tunnels failed to guarantee that they would not be disturbed. People ran through the tunnels at all hours of the night and day. Some people walked the tunnels on their way back and forth from watch duty, while others simply used the tunnels for exercise.
Sitting next to Brett on the couch in her office, she leaned in and kissed him again. She wanted to hold on to this moment forever.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Not much. I’m just feeling lucky to have you at my side. I’m not sure how Mike is holding it together.”
“I agree. I’d be beside myself if we weren’t together. I just wish we were together at home, like we always thought would happen in a disaster situation,” he said.
Lacing her fingers around his, she leaned back into the couch. She allowed her legs to remain draped over his as she reclined.
“I know. We did so much planning for disaster situations. Our house has stockpiles of everything needed to survive. We even have fresh well water and plenty of medicine saved up. Now the government thugs are using our stuff. So much for disaster planning. I guess you just never know what’ll happen.”
“You got that right. Never in my life would I have predicted that we’d be displaced from our home so that the military could quarter soldiers. The worst part of this whole thing is that there’s no one to complain to!” said Brett excitedly.
“I guess being able to post a negative review or fill out a form at some dusty, gray government office, protesting the use of our property, would make everything better,” said Nancy jokingly.
“You know what I mean. I feel a sense of hopelessness at our situation. Like we have nowhere to go to get help. If the entire government has turned against its people, what hope do we have?”
“Our situation isn’t hopeless. We’re here, fighting by staying out of the fray. They haven’t gotten to us yet and they won’t. Being on the outside will enable us to properly record history. Someone needs to do that. Otherwise no one will ever know what happened here. Besides, being on the run with you is sort of sexy,” she said, winking at him.
“I like the way your mind works.”
She leaned into him and kissed him passionately on the lips. “You’ll see, everything will eventually work out.”
“‘Eventually work out’? Where’s the fighter I married? I thought you wanted to join the resistance?”
“I wanted to until the military took over our house. Now I just want to hide until everything clears itself up. I guess I’ve turned into an armchair resister.”
“I’m not sure that’s an option. We can’t just sit here on the sidelines while others are fighting for our very freedoms! What is all of this for if we aren’t willing to stand up for what’s right?” said Brett, waving his hands around.
“You don’t think recording history is enough of a protest?”
“Not even close. I think we need to do everything we can to thwart the military’s efforts,” he said.
“I wonder what the group we ran into in the city is doing to resist? From Marvin’s explanation, they seem like a very serious bunch. Maybe after a few days or so of rest, we should consider joining forces with them?”
“You don’t want to go with Meg and Joe to the survivalist camp to search for his brother?” he asked.
“Not really. Joe isn’t even sure where the camp is or if his brother will still be there. I’d rather not be searching the entire mountainside for some camp that may or may not exist. We should try to find the resistance force.”
“Maybe you’re right. I thought we might stay behind simply so we didn’t slow them down. However, using our time to find the resistance might be worthwhile.”
A quiet tap sounded at the closed office door. Nancy immediately sat upright, disentangling herself from Brett.
“You guys in there?”
“It’s Marvin. I’ll let him in,” whispered Brett.
“Sure. So much for privacy,” said Nancy with an eye roll.
Brett took the few paces to the locked door. A cool breeze pulled through the room when he opened the office to the rest of the floor. The fresh air quickly replaced the stale air of Nancy’s office.
Marvin walked into the office. “I thought I heard voices over here. I was in my office looking for new reading material. Nothing worse than being in a disaster without a good book.”
“Come in. We were just hanging out,” said Brett.
He opened the door a little wider for Marvin.
Marvin sat cross-legged on one of the upright chairs facing them. Finally he said, “I hate to admit this, but I don’t think I should go with Joe and Meg to look for the camp. I may be more of a hindrance than help. They might be able to move faster with fewer people. Besides, it would be way easier for just a few people to hide than it would be for a whole group of us.”
Nancy tried not to smirk. The size of the group had nothing to do with why it moved slower with Marvin around. The elderly Marvin had slowed the group down at every turn during the trek to their home, nearly getting himself and the others caught on numerous occasions. However, despite what everyone knew about his athletic ability, Marvin seemed to believe that his presence did not impact the group. She knew everyone had a version of himself or herself that they clung to despite evidence to the contrary. Marvin’s comical version of himself, rooted in an unseen past when he had run faster, lightened Nancy’s mood.
“We were thinking the same thing. It’s best if they go with a smaller group, not including any of us,” said Brett.
“That’s a relief to hear you say that. I assumed everyone would want to stay together. I’d hate to bail out on them, but I’ve had enough running for a lifetime.”
Marvin seemed to relax in his chair. The afternoon light shone on his face, making him look much older than his chronological age. Deep lines crisscrossed his strong features—crevasses forming strikes against the beauty of a once handsome, younger man.
“I feel the same way. We’ve been through a lot together. I just need a break from running for a little while. Even if that break is in a dark tunnel,” said Brett.
“We talked about wanting to find the resistance. Maybe in a few days we’ll all feel up to venturing out to find your masked friends,” said Nancy.
“Maybe we will. Though I’m not sure where to find them. Going back into the city isn’t an option. By now the entire thing should be surrounded by concertina wire. Other than sending up a flare, I wouldn’t even know where to begin to find them,” said Marvin.
Nancy could tell by the sound of his voice that Marvin would likely be content to wait on the sidelines of the battle. Perhaps he had the right approach. Stay safe, keep your head down, and let the more capable people fight. Her body felt old and tired after everything they had been through. She certainly could not help the cause in her current physical condition.
“You might be right. I agree that we can’t go back. Perhaps they also left the city and are operating outside it?” said Brett.
“That makes sense. Why would they stay inside a barred-off city? Eventually they’d be caught. It’d make way more sense for them to leave and fight against the military from the outside,” said Nancy.
“But where would they go? We don’t even know where they’re based. That’s what we need to figure out. Then we can join them and help in any way possible,” said Marvin.
Nancy’s mind swirled with possibilities. She envisioned the resistance camped located in a revolutionary-style fortress the likes of which would be the envy of any third-world grassroots activists. Just an inkling that such a place existed in their now cruel world filled her with hope.
— 4 —
Ed Camp had been a professor at the university for nearly fifteen years, serving as the chairman of the Sociology Department for most of them. He never aspired to the position of chairman, so when his turn came, he approached the job with quiet resignation, counting the days until he could turn the reins over to the next person. However, something changed once he began making decisions. Soon he learned that leadership came naturally to him. The other professors in the department must have agreed, because year after year they unanimously voted for him to continue in the post.
Originally from the northeast, Ed had left his blue-collar home in search of answers to the big questions in life. All five of his brothers and his three sisters were scattered around New England, far from the university. The number of nieces and nephews produced by the original Camp brood grew to dizzying numbers. Ed stopped counting at the birth of the tenth child. During family visits to his childhood home, he witnessed his siblings struggling with unhappy marriages and runny-nosed children. Every time he returned to the university, his decision to forego the comforts of hearth and home for the life of academia had been underscored with a dignified certainty.
Early in his career, Ed had worked with another professor to test the hypothesis that the use of mind-altering drugs would create harmony in a group. The large pharmaceutical company that funded the research sought a drug that would render its users blissed out—but not numb. Such a drug would allow people to work in groups without dissent. Although the goal of the research seemed dubious to him, he couldn’t dismiss the money they contributed to his department.
Year after year, the company pumped millions of dollars into the work. During the last year of the study, they came close to perfecting the practical pharmacological use of the drug. The tests demonstrated that group dynamic worked best with a small daily dose of Wondra, the name the company gave the mind-altering drug. However, before they could turn over their findings to the company, the U.S. government swooped in and shut down the lab.
They seized all of the data derived from use of Wondra. Years of work showing how the drug changed group dynamics vanished overnight, along with the pharmaceutical company. Inexplicably, the company contacts never returned calls or emails from Ed or his colleagues. In all his years in research, he had never experienced a total collapse on the scale of the Wondra debacle. Overnight funding ended, leaving Ed without working capital or a project. He even started to wonder if the pharmaceutical company had been a fraud all along. A government entity disguised as a private start-up.
The government officials would not disclose why they had ceased the research. They would only say that the work had been deemed top secret. The Sociology Department became alive with conspiracy theories. Most believed that the U.S. government ended the project to prevent the Chinese-invested pharma company from obtaining the results. Others believed the government wanted the findings so that it could dose the American people with the drug through the water supply. Once the citizens were too drugged to rebel, it could do anything, unchecked. Ed didn’t really care about the various conspiracy theories. Instead, he focused his efforts on finding a new project. Then his turn at the helm of the department began, and he never looked for another research project. He chose to lead the department instead.
Ed walked quickly through the tunnels. Before the lights went out, he never had a reason to enter the tunnel system. Like everyone else, he had been given a tour of the campus when he started working at the university. The tour included a glimpse into the tunnels, along with an explanation of their purpose, but nothing more. He had no concept of the vastness of the tunnel system. After the lights went out, no one thought about entering the tunnels. The need to hide hadn’t presented itself yet. However, as reports about troops rounding up civilians started to hit campus, he knew they needed to find a safe place to hide.
He’d taken several volunteers into the tunnels as an exploratory mission. Armed with flashlights, a map of campus and sticky notes, they entered the dark maze. The group walked in one direction at a time, marking their slow progress with the sticky notes. Without the sticky notes acting as breadcrumbs, he doubted they would have found their way back through the vast darkness. The expedition into the tunnels reminded Ed of the early Aztec Indians who charted underground waterways and tunnel systems. They bravely went below the ground’s surface into a dark unknown world, which they believed to be a gateway to the underworld. His admiration for these ancient people grew as he too tried to plot a map of an unknown underworld.
Once they plotted the tunnels on a map, he felt comfortable sending more people belowground. They quickly moved couches, mattresses and anything else they could handle into the tunnels. He wanted to be sure they would be comfortable if they needed to hide for long per
iods of time. Until the soldiers started coming with more frequency, they didn’t need to test the system. Now he feared they were doomed to spend most of their time below the ground’s surface in order to evade discovery.
Despite having all the resources they needed, he knew living in the tunnels would not be optimal as a long-term survival strategy. Eventually, the need for sunshine and fresh air would exceed the perceived need for stealth, leaving them open to accidental discovery as people sought the comforts of the natural world.
They also brought food and water into their now robust bunker system. Despite taking large amounts of supplies from the campus, they tried very hard to make things aboveground look untouched. He feared that if it became clear that the campus had been cleaned out, perhaps the troops would take a closer look. So far, his fears had not come to pass. The troops merely conducted superficial searches of the campus. Their efforts seemed to be mostly focused on the people located at the facility.
Ed managed to keep everyone who chose to stay on campus safe. They even settled into a sort of dark rhythm, knowing exactly what to do if trucks arrived. Everything seemed fine until the other night. Several people had been aboveground enjoying the evening when the men arrived. The people retreated swiftly into the safety of the tunnels. Unfortunately, a foreign exchange student did not get inside quickly enough. The troops murdered him in plain sight as he fled. The man’s death weighed heavily on Ed. He wondered if he could have done more to prevent the killing.
“Hey, Ed! You getting hungry?” said one of the kitchen volunteers.
“Only if you’re making pizza!” he said cheerily.
Ed made it a point to check in with everyone once or twice per day. As a result, he spent most of his day moving from one work party to the next. He saved the kitchens for last, usually around mealtimes.
“Pizza? That’s it? Here I pegged you for a steak and beer sort of guy,” said the man.
“I’ll take anything not poured out of a can at this point!” said Ed. “Beer excluded.”
