by N. W. Harris
“Come on,” he said, wanting to get her away from Matt’s corpse. “Let’s get out of here.”
“But,” Kelly pulled away, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “What do we do with him?”
“I think we should leave him here for now,” Shane replied, hoping not to sound insensitive. “I don’t want to upset the little kids.”
Kelly nodded. They crawled out together. Natalie came over after they stood. She wore a blanket draped around her shoulders, the soggy and dirty bottom dragging the ground.
“I want to go home now,” she said, peering up at Shane as if he was the reason she couldn’t.
Shane glanced at Kelly, at a loss for words.
“Uh,” Kelly stammered, “we can’t just yet.” Her voice sounded weak and unconvincing.
“Yeah,” Shane added, trying to rescue Kelly. “The adventure isn’t over.”
“But this isn’t any fun at all,” Nat said, her green eyes big and wet and her chin crinkling.
“Come on,” Kelly said, putting her hands on the little girl’s shoulders and steering her away. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”
After watching Kelly and Nat, Shane took a deep shaky breath and gazed across the tarmac. Matt’s death hadn’t affected him as he would expect, but the sad expression on that six-year-old girl’s face caused him unbearable heartache. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if the little ones didn’t have the older kids to take care of them. They had to shut the weapon down and get the world back to normal, and they had to hurry.
A flock of crows flew overhead, screeching angrily at each other. Shane eyed them, worried. Any moment, the weapon could cause them to attack Kelly, and then shortly thereafter, Shane, Tracy, Steve, and Aaron would be targeted. If they didn’t shut the weapon down before that happened, he doubted there’d be a kid left old enough to do it.
Shane put the kids to the task of gathering salvageable materials and supplies scattered by the storm and had Laura and Kelly listen to the scientist’s radio broadcast. A grumbling sound carried across the tarmac, catching Shane’s attention. A green army vehicle with a raised, boat-bow front end rolled toward him. It had eight wheels on four axles, a machine gun on top, and slits for windows.
He started to order the kids to crawl under the buses for cover, but a hatch on top of the angular vehicle flipped open and Aaron popped up and waved at him.
Looking like it could climb straight up a tree, the vehicle pulled in front of Shane and stopped. A hydraulic pump whined, and the rear gate on the machine lowered down to make a ramp. Tracy and Aaron climbed out.
“This should do the trick.” Tracy almost beamed, though her tone was dispirited.
“What the heck is it?” Shane asked, studying the fierce vehicle.
“It’s a Stryker armored personnel carrier,” Tracy announced. “That’s a 12.7 mm machine gun on top, and those little tubes are grenade launchers. This baby should get us downtown—no problem.”
“Check this out,” Aaron said, waving Shane to the back of the Stryker.
Shane followed him up the ramp and into the belly of the machine.
“We found a bunch of guns and ammo.” Aaron showed him weapons stacked on the bench seats on either side of the Stryker.
“What’s that?” Shane pointed at blood spattering the walls.
“A couple of soldiers killed each other in here,” Tracy said curtly, seeming annoyed Shane would complain. “We cleaned up the mess the best we could.”
“It’s a reminder we might do the same if we don’t hurry,” Shane whispered. He surveyed the rest of the interior and added, “This thing doesn’t look like it’ll carry too many people. What about all those kids we’re responsible for?”
“We can’t take them with us,” Tracy answered, like it should have been apparent. “They’ll slow us down anyway.”
“What are we supposed to do?” He struggled to keep his anger in check. Tracy didn’t act like she had a heart half the time. She seemed to be looking for a way to ditch the kids. “We’ve brought them this far—we can’t just abandon them.”
“They’ll be safer here,” Aaron said from behind Shane. “Once we get down to Atlanta, we’re bound to find some trouble. Even if the buses would run, they won’t protect those kids.”
Did it make sense to leave the kids here on the base? It seemed somewhat safe and isolated. If all went as planned, they’d be back by nightfall. But the thought of abandoning them still made Shane uneasy.
“Do you know how to use these?” Shane asked, picking up a rifle.
“That’s an M-16,” Tracy replied. “And yes, I know how to use it. My dad got my JROTC unit access to the base’s shooting range a few times.” Tracy’s stoic face twitched, pain in her eyes.
It was the first time she mentioned her dad since they left the high school, heading to this base to find him. He had to be dead, just like all of the other adults. Shane again felt the urge to say something to comfort Tracy, but she seemed so tough that he feared anything he’d come up with would sound too awkward and would probably tick her off, so he kept quiet.
“Take a few of these guns and show some of the older kids who won’t be coming with us how to shoot them,” Shane ordered, putting the M-16 in her hands. “And leave them plenty of ammo. They’ll need it for protection while we’re gone.”
Tracy took the gun and nodded. Steve grabbed three more, carrying them to the kids who Kelly and Laura organized into two work groups. Shane had seen many types of guns growing up, most of them designed for hunting. But these, with their plastic stalks and black barrels, were made for one thing—killing people. In fact, he thought, glancing at a splatter of dried blood on the Stryker, these weapons had just killed people.
He jogged over and tried to find distraction in helping Kelly move sheet metal, the remains of the hanger, together to create lean-to shelters. Tracy took eight of the older girls behind the buses to give them a crash course on how to use the M-16s. Their eyes were wide with trepidation and missing any spark. He knew, especially after what they’d been through, they’d be able to defend themselves with the guns if they had to. Shane, Tracy, Steve, Kelly, and Aaron had already killed. He’d never get the images of those dying boys out of his head.
Once the shelters were finished, he helped Steve and Aaron gather supplies and stock the Stryker for the trip downtown. Shane called a meeting of the other four who had fought in the gym and Laura.
“We’ve all listened to the radio message,” Shane said, looking at each of his friends and hoping to channel Coach Rice once again. “We know we have to get downtown and shut the weapon off.”
Shane didn’t really have a plan. He hoped someone else would jump in, and their silence said they expected him to have the answers. He’d always dreamed of being a quarterback, but not when the life or death of the rest of the people on the planet was at stake.
“Tracy and Aaron found us this armored truck, which should keep us safe if we run into trouble,” Shane continued, patting the front of the Stryker. “Does anyone know how to get to the capitol building from here?”
“The Stryker is loaded with electronic maps, and it has GPS,” Tracy said. “We won’t have a problem finding our way.”
“What about all those kids?” Kelly asked, glancing over her shoulder at the groups huddled thirty feet behind her.
Shane expected the question. He looked at Tracy and then Aaron, hoping one of them would give Kelly the news. Of course, they didn’t answer.
“We’re going to have to leave them here,” Shane said, hoping he hadn’t just started a fight.
“What?” Laura asked, sounding flabbergasted and glaring at him.
“We can’t do that,” Kelly retorted. “Most of them are too young—they won’t be safe.”
“Tracy taught some of the older girls to use the guns.” Shane hated how the two girls had him backed in a corner. It wasn’t like this was all his doing. “You guys are free to stay here too, but we need all the he
lp we can get.”
“Whose we?” Laura asked, glaring at each of them as if they’d been conspiring.
“I’m going,” Tracy said, the usual coolness in her voice. She didn’t break her gaze from Shane, barely acknowledging Laura’s complaint. “I’m driving the Stryker.”
“Me too,” Steve chimed in, leaning back as if he were trying to hide behind Tracy.
“I’m the best shot here,” Aaron said, obviousness in his tone, “so I have to go.”
Shane figured it was pretty apparent he had to join the mission because no one else seemed to want to lead it.
“We need you two as well,” Tracy said. She was the only one who didn’t seem intimidated by the angry girls. “It might get ugly down there, and the more people we have, the better our chances.”
“And in a few hours, the animals might be attacking us anyway,” Steve said, poking his head out from behind Tracy. “We won’t be much help to these kids if we stick around.”
“I understand if you can’t come along, Kelly,” Shane said, “being that your little sister is here.”
Kelly looked over her shoulder at the group of kids huddled near a small fire built in front of the lean-to shelters. After a moment, she returned her focus to Shane. Her blue eyes had always seemed to glow, emitting a constant flow of joy that made him blush when she looked at him. His chest ached to see so much sadness and pain in her gaze now. With her staring at him, deciding if she should leave her little sister behind, Shane made a silent vow that after all this was over, and the weapon had been shut down, he’d find a way to make Kelly happy once again—he’d find a way to make her smile.
“I have to go,” she whispered. “I’m the oldest, so the animals will come after me first. It’s better if I say goodbye to her now than have her see me ripped apart like… like…” She looked at the ground.
“Okay,” Shane said, rescuing her before she could say, like her parents. He cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. “Let’s say our goodbyes and get going. The sooner we shut that weapon down, the sooner we can get back here and make sure these kids stay safe.”
Shane watched Kelly slowly walk over to the group of kids and sit down beside her little sister. He couldn’t imagine how hard the conversation she was about to have must be. There was little he could do to help her. He joined Aaron in scrubbing the rest of the blood off the Stryker, wondering how long until he and his friends started killing each other like these soldiers had done. The M-16 on the seat in front of him would make the end come fast, not that it was much conciliation, but he preferred going by bullet instead of arrow or the blade of a knife. Kelly stepped into view at the rear hatch of the vehicle, her eyes moist with tears.
“How’d it go?” Shane asked.
“I told her I had work, that I’d just be gone for the day,” Kelly replied, sniffling. “She didn’t seem to care.” She let out a pained chuckle. “As usual, she’s dealing with all this better than I am.”
“She’ll be fine here,” Shane said, putting his arms around Kelly and giving her a quick hug. “And, if all goes as planned, we’ll be back by tonight, like you said.”
“I sure hope so,” Kelly replied. “I hope you don’t mind, but I convinced Laura to stay here. The other kids need someone older to watch out for them, and she’s younger than me so the weapon won’t get to her right away.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” Shane agreed. Tracy and Laura were always at each other’s throats anyway, and the trip would be easier if he didn’t have to play referee between them.
The Stryker’s engine grumbled to life, and Kelly and Shane climbed in the back with Aaron and Steve. Tracy was up front in the driver’s seat. Steve closed the rear hatch, and the Stryker lurched forward, almost throwing Shane off his bench.
“Sorry,” Tracy yelled over the noisy diesel. “She’s a bit touchy.”
It took Tracy several miles to master operating the heavy vehicle. While they bounced along, Aaron showed everyone how to use the M-16s, and then they changed into fresh clothing. Kelly faced forward and the boys faced the rear to give her some privacy. Putting on the bulletproof vest and helmet Tracy and Aaron retrieved from the dead soldiers, Shane was careful not to study the camouflaged material too closely, fearing some of the splotches of dark belonged to the prior owner. He stood on the bench, sticking his head and shoulders up out of the Stryker’s rear hatch. Wearing the same protective gear, Kelly rose up through the hatch next to him, and Steve stood through the gunner’s hatch in the middle of the armored vehicle, manning the machine gun mounted on the roof.
They rolled through an upper middle-class neighborhood with large homes on either side of the street. The yards were well kept, covered in lush, green grass, and the houses had flower gardens in full bloom, some with the stars and stripes and the Georgia state flag hanging from their porches.
Everything looked peaceful, tidy, and normal—except for the dead bodies.
A two-story red brick house with white pillars supporting the roof over the front porch had a middle-aged woman and an older woman laying near the flowerbeds, presumably a mother and her daughter. Their large, matching straw sunhats lay next to them, and a plastic tray of flowers sat in the grass nearby, ready to plant. The older woman had a gardening spade sticking out of her chest, and her daughter had the spike of a sprinkler head protruding from her eye.
Shane glanced at Kelly, knowing he’d never get the horrible image out of his brain. Had these poor people been driven insane when they attacked each other, oblivious? Or worse, were they conscious of what they were doing, yet unable to stop themselves? She put a hand on his forearm and squeezed, then returned her somber gaze to the passing houses.
He worried some of these houses might harbor children who were too young to get out or take care of themselves. The Stryker’s engine was loud enough to drown out any other noise, but he wondered if the screams of starving babies would fill the air in the absence of the deafening diesel. He felt guilty for not stopping to investigate, but at this moment, they had to keep going. The children would certainly die if they didn’t shut down the weapon. They could come back and investigate afterwards, though he knew he and his friends didn’t have the resources to care for any more kids than they were already responsible for. He could only hope other teenagers were taking responsibility for the youngsters who had lost their parents. Right now, he had to stay focused, or everyone was doomed.
Two blocks away, a man in a business suit lay facedown in his driveway, a pistol on the bloody ground next to him. The next house had a woman in the yard, a shotgun next to her and a dark red spot covering her chest. Shane tried not to look at any more of the bodies, focusing his attention on the road ahead. It didn’t help much, because there were dead adults littering the streets as well. Some of them looked mangled, their bodies bent in unnatural ways, run over by psychos who mowed people down with their cars. Others were shot, and more bludgeoned with gardening tools and household items like the mother and daughter Shane saw at the other end of the street. And there were mutilated bodies, most likely torn apart by crazed neighborhood dogs or wild animals.
The Stryker rolled out of the neighborhood and onto a main road lined with businesses. The buildings grew taller with each passing block, and the number of the dead on the streets increased. Shane knew they must be getting closer to the capitol building, praying it would stay this quiet all the way there.
A movement to the left caught Shane’s attention. He looked down the side street and saw a motorcycle zip through the intersection. Its rider’s helmetless head turned, looking at Shane just before the bike disappeared between buildings.
“Someone’s following us,” Shane yelled to Kelly and then leaned forward and told Steve, pointing down the street at the next light.
Steve nodded, and climbed down into the Stryker. He popped up with two M-16s, handing one to Shane and one to Kelly. She took the weapon and looked at Shane with concern.
“Don’t worry,” Sh
ane yelled confidently in her ear. “They won’t dare mess with us while we’re in this beast.” He patted the armored, green roof of their rolling fortress.
Each intersection they passed, Shane glanced down the side streets and saw more motorcycles shadowing them. And then Tracy slowed the Stryker. A blockade of cars with a bunch of teenagers standing in front of it obstructed the road ahead. Shane tried to count them, guessing there were over a hundred. They all held guns, but at least they weren’t pointing them at the approaching Stryker. He felt a surge of hope. If they could get this army of kids on their side, then disabling the Limbic Manipulator Weapon might be an easy task.
Tracy brought the Stryker to a halt fifty feet from the blockade. Steve manned the machine gun mounted on the roof, and Kelly held her M-16 ready. Shane remembered how he used to think she was so feminine and sweet. Now he saw her differently. After all, she killed some of the escaped inmates who attacked the girls in the gym. And now, her gentle and caring expression was replaced by the steely look of a soldier, ready and willing to fight. The gun in her hands and her helmet and body armor made her look even tougher.
Shane left his M-16 laying on the roof of the Stryker, crawled up out of his hatch, and sat down next to Steve’s machine gun, attempting to make it clear he wanted to talk and did not plan to immediately attack.
The teens pushed closer together, and he worried one of them might get too excited and start shooting. In the front of the pack, a thick kid with a slight grin and malice in his eyes started to raise the shotgun in his hands but a taller boy, Shane guessed to be about seventeen years old, put his hand on the barrel and pushed it down. The tall boy’s eyes never left Shane, and with the way the thick kid obeyed, it was clear who the leader was.
Once Tracy killed the Stryker’s diesel engine, tense quiet fell over the street. Shane had been to downtown Atlanta a few times, and he was certain it was never so quiet. The hot breeze whispered between the sharp corners and flat faces of the towering buildings, warning of the fragility of the momentary peace.
