by Martha Adele
Wait, why does moving hurt?
My eyes flutter open. My vision, blurry as my sight slowly comes into focus. I force myself off the ground only to find I’m not the only one down. When I get to a standing position, the room sways around me. Everyone in front of me runs in the opposite direction, away from me and back to the door from which we came into the tunnel.
The ringing slowly fades out as I turn around to see rubble. The stone tunnel, once open and sturdy, is now crumbled and piled up as if no such thing had ever existed.
I see bodies.
Dead bodies.
Some bloody, some crushed. Some, only legs or arms are showing. In what feels like slow motion, I run toward them.
They can’t be dead.
No.
They can’t.
The first person I run to is a man with a large gash oozing blood on his temple. He looks to be about forty. His dark hair and his perfectly shaved face make him look well-groomed. It makes me think this man had somewhere to be.
He has somewhere to be.
I feel his neck for a pulse but find nothing but lifeless flesh.
To his right, about three meters away, is a young lady. She looks to be about the age of everyone in my history class. Just a young girl, fifteen at most. Her arm is missing. It has been blown off. Behind her are many victims that suffered the same fate. Limbs, blood, guts, and gore cover what little I can see at the end of the tunnel.
I feel a slight rumbling underneath me. I look up to the roof and the walls around me to see them shaking. They won’t hold much longer.
A hand grabs my arm from behind and pulls me away from the young girl’s body. The lean man from Taai pulls me back from the rubble and drags me out of the tunnel. I shout out to him, asking, “What’s happening? What happened?” I can barely hear my voice over the ringing in my ears. The small amount I can hear is muffled. I repeat the question over and over as my teammate pulls me out of the tunnel and into the hallway.
John and the other officers herd all of the citizens into the bombing bunker while the other Taai help. I sit in the hallway as one of the nurses patches up the skin on my bicep, which was hit with shrapnel in the tunnels.
My hearing comes back enough that I can hear everyone around me speaking, but barely enough to allow me to make out what they are saying.
As the final ringing fades out, John rounds up the lean man, three other Taai members, and me after all of the citizens are in the bunker. “All right,” he barks at us, “listen up! You five will be clearing level 9.” A man brings John a black duffle bag, from which John then pulls out guns for each of us, along with a hologram cuff. He distributes the guns while unlocking the cuff, typing in a clearance code and handing it over to me. I clip it on and wait for further orders. “You guys need to make sure that there is nobody out of place. If there is, do not engage until you report back to me. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” we answer in unison.
“Forge.” John points to me and the cuff. “All you have to do to work that right now is press the red button and talk into it. That will go directly to me. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” I answer.
The lean dude looks from me back to John. “What happened with the fire?”
“There was none,” John answers, loading in a new clip of ammunition. “No flames, whatsoever. Nothing was sensed, and there was no evidence of fire on any of our security cameras. It was part of the bomber’s plan.” He cocks the gun and turns back to us. “That’s one of the reasons why we will be bringing these to clear the level. Move out.”
While the officers go through the bunkers to take attendance and see who we are missing, the six of us split up. I go with the lean man, John goes with one of the other three, and the two left go together.
The lean man leads the two of us down the hallway, looking through his heat-sensing sight the whole time. We make it to one of the sharp corners, and he lowers his gun. “Hey, Young,” he says into his cuff. “We have a body.”
I come up and turn the corner to find a bald man lying on the ground, lifeless.
“On my way.”
John tracks our location and is with us within five minutes. He quickly makes his way over to the body and scans his face with his cuff. The blue hologram screen on his cuff changes to red, with words scribbled on it.
“No matches,” John mutters. He stands and types something into the hologram, which makes it disappear as he brings the cuff up and speaks into it. “We need a forensics team on 9 beta 3.”
His cuff waits a moment before responding, “Copy.”
“What does it mean, ‘no matches’?” I ask, regretting my question almost instantly when I see the looks of disgust from the others.
John rises to his feet. “It means he wasn’t a member of Bergland.”
“Then how did he get in?” I stupidly ask again.
“My best guess?” John slides his gun to his waist and crosses his arms, looking down to the corpse. “The tunnel we were in. The one with the bombs in it.”
The obvious answer burns my cheeks as I realize that I should have thought of this first. John waves us off, saying that he will wait for the forensics team. The other Taai members head one way while I follow the lean one.
“Hey,” I say to him, trying to catch up with his long and continuous stride. “Um … what do we do now? Where do we go?”
“First off, it’s Barnes. Eric Barnes. Now we will go down to the bunker and help take attendance.”
“Oh.” His statement came out as a mixture of kindness and sternness. I can’t tell exactly how to feel about it. “Okay. My name’s Logan. Forge.” I cringe as my name escapes my mouth once again. “Logan Forge.”
He looks over his shoulder and chuckles at me. “Yeah, I know who you are.” Barnes stops and extends his hand to me. Though he is only a few inches taller than me and a lot more muscular than me, he is still one of the smallest in the Taai that I have seen. There are a few that are shorter than both of us and are amazing on the training courses, but most of the members are taller than 5’9”. I take his hand and give it a good, firm shake.
Barnes nods. “It’s a pleasure to finally have a proper introduction.”
I nod to him, and we head back to the bunker.
Once we return, Barnes shows me how to take roll on the hologram cuff and leads me to the back corner of one of the branches. “Go down this side of the hallway. I will go down the other.”
I pull up the software for the attendance and start with a woman about Janice’s age. I hold the blue hologram square in front of her face as a line makes its way up and down the screen. “Name?” I ask.
“Walayla Hendrix.”
The girl’s name pops up beside a picture of her face. Twenty buttons pop up underneath her name for me to choose from, and I click on the one labeled “AF,” which stands for “accounted for.”
I move down the line just like that.
Girl. Woman. Woman. Man. Man. Woman. Boy. Man. They are all lined up in no apparent order. As I continue to go through the masses—much slower than Barnes, I might add—I watch the pop-up alerts on the bottom of the screen.
“Xander Holley. Dead at the scene.”
“Tristan Smith. Dead at the scene.”
“Jamie Fowler. Dead at the scene.”
A name pops up every minute, and all I can do is hope that neither Sam nor Mavis was in that tunnel.
“Lucas Troy. Dead at the scene.”
They weren’t supposed to be! They were supposed to be in a different one. Everyone goes to the tunnel that is assigned to the floor they are on. It makes it safer.
Safer.
“Yasmine Quincy. Dead at the scene.”
Bergland was supposed to be safe. The tunnels were supposed to be safer.
“Ronald Hucks. Dead at the scene.”
A soft wheezing meets my ears. Over all of the static and noise around me, I hear the heavy breathing clearly. It’s a familiar soft wheezing. I can hear it over all of the noise in the branch. Soft wheezing.
Mavis.
I continue to scan everyone’s faces while simultaneously looking around for her. I get about forty people down the line when I see Sam. He sits on one side of the bottom bunk, with his arms around Mavis. Her head is buried in her hands, and she is breathing slowly and heavily, trying to self-soothe.
Ignoring my job, I rush over to their side. Sam looks up at me, and his eyes grow. He loosens his grip on Mavis and gives me a very slight smile. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, no, I’m good! What …” I feel myself getting overly excited and compose myself. “What about you guys? What tunnel were you in?”
“Forty-eight C,” Sam answers, releasing Mavis as she pulls her face out of her hands. Her eyes meet mine. I feel my mouth curl up into a subtle smile, just as hers does. I step forward and sit beside her on the bed.
“Hey,” I whisper, not knowing what to say. Mavis smiles back to me, and I lean in. We wrap our arms around each other and hold for a moment. I feel myself melt into her, and I don’t want it to stop.
But I know it has to. I have a job to do.
“Hey,” Mavis whispers back.
We pull away from each other. My hand slides down her arm and finds its way into hers. “I have to go finish taking attendance.”
She and Sam nod.
“I’m happy you guys are okay.” I rise to my feet and release Mavis’s hand. “I will be back after I finish.” I head off and get the groups of people I skipped over.
“Wendy Louis. Dead at the scene.”
It feels like for every other person I scan for attendance, another death alert arrives.
“Kate Greenwood. Dead at the scene.”
I was in that tunnel. Why was I spared? Why was I spared and not them?
“Samuel Jenkins. Dead at the scene.”
We have to do something. We have to retaliate. No more deaths. We have to end this war.
As I scan another man into the system and mark him down as accounted for, another death alert pops up. This name shakes me to my core.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mavis
I pull my head up out of my hands and look around the room. Sam sits to my left and has his hand on my shoulder. A few bunks away from us, there is a family. One mom, one dad, one girl about thirteen, and what I have gathered is the mom’s sister. They all huddle around the one bunk and wonder what’s going on. Surprisingly, the young girl is the calmest out of all of them.
I look around and see people all chattering. Some calm like the girl. Some sitting and nervous like me. And some flustered and panicked.
Sam rubs my shoulder and sighs. “You okay?”
I nod. There’s nothing I really need to say. I’m fine. I was even able to keep myself from a panic attack.
Well … sort of.
I’m getting better, though. I’m learning how to deal with it.
“How about you?” I ask Sam as I pat his leg. “How are you holding up?”
He looks to me and gives me the same comforting smile I have grown to love.
A silence falls over the crowds of people as the officers walk back up and through the aisles, telling people to be quiet. Multiple hologram screens pop up across each wall, all showing the same thing. General Wilson, sitting behind his perfect desk, with his hands folded.
His face rests into a mixture of pity and seriousness. “Hello, Bergland.” His voice, deep and filled with concern, echoes through the halls. No other noise is being produced other than his voice. “I am grieved to have to address you with this news. About an hour ago, the Taai found the body of a man who was confirmed to be from Bestellen. He committed suicide after setting off the fire alarm and sending everyone into the tunnels. The reason that there were bombs found in only one tunnel was because this man only knew about that one tunnel.
“At the moment, we assume that the targeted tunnel was the one he came through. By blowing it up, he sealed up the only entrance that Bestellen knew about. Though this act puts us at an advantage because they don’t know about any other entrances, they took many lives in the process. We cannot, and will not, let them get away with this.”
General Wilson takes a moment. He looks away from the camera down to his folded hands. He takes a deep breath, then looks back to the camera. His face is more serious than before. “We begin launching ground attacks tonight. Effective immediately! The full war has begun and at the cost of a total of eighty-seven Bergland lives.” The instrumental Bergland anthem that we listen to every morning begins to softly play. “Please take a moment to remember those whom we have lost in this horrid attack by Bestellen.”
The victims’ ID photos fade in and out on the screens. Each labeled with their name, age, and family members. They all slowly pass by. A woman that looks strikingly similar to Sarah pops onto the screen. Her name is … was Lucy. Lucy Cardillo. Her dark brunette hair makes her pale skin seem paler and her blue eyes bluer.
The familiar anthem continues to play; and the pictures continue to fade in and out when, suddenly, a man’s voice comes through the speakers. His smooth voice floats through the room as he sings the bits of their anthem I have never heard.
Men and women alike,
We all joined the fight.
We fought, we fought,
Until we dropped
Because we knew it was right.
A man, only twenty-two years old, pops up next. He was a member of the Taai. His picture shows his portrait and his profile. The sides of his head has a zigzag pattern shaved into it, making his haircut unique compared with most of the other Taai.
Sam’s grip on my shoulder loosens, and his hand slides down my back. I grab his hand and hold it as I realize that this was one of the guys that hurt Sam. This was one of the thugs that should have been punished. I can’t help but wonder if Sam would have turned him in, would the boy with the zigzag hair have been in a different tunnel? Would he still be alive?
We follow the babbling brook,
Look through every cranny and nook,
And meet the others down the way
To avoid the evil crook.
The person that comes up next is a man. He was thirty-six. He had kids, two kids. I can hear them sobbing. They burst into tears one hallway over as “Tony” comes onto the screen. One of them is shouting. He is crying out, “Daddy …”
No matter our race or state,
We all want to stop the hate.
We’ll fight, we’ll fight
Every night
Until we reach our fate.
The next picture that appears is of a little boy. Eight years old. Short spiked-up blond hair. He wore black glasses that were too big for his face. He had no living family. His name was Henry. Henry Smalls.
We follow the babbling brook,
Look under every cranny and nook,
And meet the others down the way
To take back what he took.
Sam and I freeze. I’m paralyzed with shock and overwhelmed by so many different emotions. Too many to handle. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Henry is dead.
We watch as the rest of the victims fade in and out. The music comes to a halt as General Wilson comes back onto the screen. “Thank you for your attention.” The only other noises in the room are the sounds of sobs and silence. “I know a lot has happened, and many of you will need time to mourn. But we have to act now. If you would like to help Bergland win this war, get with a recruiter. They will be available in the cafeteria today during all meal shifts. They can help you find the most appropriate positi
on for your specific skill set. Again, thank you so much for listening. Good day and good morrow, Bergland. Work hard and achieve more.” The screens flicker off, leaving the rooms and branches as silent as could be with the light sobbing.
“All right!” The officers walk up and down the aisles and clear us all out. “Head to the last post you were at. Follow up with your post leaders about the lunch schedule for today.”
Sam and I are forced to head out of the bunker immediately without getting to speak to Logan. We then follow the masses to go back to the cafeteria and meet up with Sarah. The moment she lays her eyes on us, she rushes over and gives us both a hug. All of our arms wrap around one another, and we hold that position for a few long moments. Her hugs are much warmer and more comforting than I expected.
I rest my head on her soft and thick shoulder as her shaky breath warms my neck. “Are you guys okay?”
“We were in the same tunnel as you,” Sam answers, pulling back from her.
“I know.” Sarah sniffles and wipes a few tears from her cheeks. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t get hurt.”
A moment of silence passes as I realize that Sarah knows most everybody by name. She got to watch them grow up, and she got to feed almost everyone in Bergland at one time or another.
I lean back in and wrap my arms around her once more. “I’m sorry,” I say softly into her ear. She pulls away and brings us over to the sink. We all wash our hands and get back to work preparing the food.
Sarah explains that we will go about our schedule as we normally do, just with a two-hour delay. The only difference will be that the last post of the day is cancelled for most everybody so that we can go to bed on time.
During our Culinary Aid shift, a few recruiters with their hologram cuffs come into the kitchen. After talking to Sarah, one of the officers comes over to Sam and me. He asks for Sam’s name and scans his face. The officer nods and presses a few buttons on his hologram. “It looks like the best thing that you would be suited for is continuing Culinary Aid throughout the war. By performing culinary aid, you will help provide food for all refugees, soldiers, and citizens.” He turns to me. “Name?”
