The Last Full Measure

by Trent Reedy

  “It’s okay, ma’am,” said Eyeball. “Nathan Crow says it’s okay.”

  She folded her arms. “But we won’t have enough to go around if you keep wasting medication.”

  Tattoos and Eyeball looked at each other and laughed a little. “Ma’am? We’re Brotherhood,” Tattoos said, like that explained everything and she should have already known that they were entitled to the pills.

  Dr. Nicole turned her back on them, spotted us, and led us toward the doors at the far end of the gym. “Eric.” She smiled. “How are you doing?”

  “A little better,” he said.

  She gave a worried nod. “The gym is just for emergency triage now, at least until graduation, when all these patients will be crammed into classrooms. Dr. Strauss is in the old nurse’s office. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  We thanked her and went on our way. About twenty minutes later, Sweeney came out of the nurse’s office looking both in pain and a little pissed.

  “What is it?” Becca asked.

  Sweeney tapped his cane on the floor. “Let’s just go.”

  “Talk to me,” Becca said.

  “Doc wanted to cut my painkiller dose way down,” Sweeney said. “Less than half of what I got before.”

  “What?” Becca said. “That’s crazy.”

  “He says they have to save it for emergency patients that aren’t stabilized yet.” He met our eyes, and none of us had to say anything to see the bullshit in that. “So I told him to shove his medicine up his ass.” Sweeney’s knuckles were white as he gripped the top of his cane. “I’ll just do without.”

  “Eric, are you sure?”

  Sweeney started down the hall. “They’re the Brotherhood,” he said in the same tone Tattoos had just used in the gym.

  A ton of terrible, impossible, or just plain weird stuff had gone down in the last year, but walking down the hallway of my high school with Sweeney and Becca was one of the most jacked-up experiences I’d had. For a moment I could almost believe that I was a senior in high school like I was supposed to be, that all the bad stuff had never happened.

  “This seems like such an out-of-place bit of normal,” I whispered. Sweeney grunted as he hobbled down the hall with his cane. Becca put her hand on his back. “Well, okay, maybe not so normal.”

  The door to the main office flew open, and I instinctively reached for my gun in the holster on my belt. Mr. Shiratori burst out into the hallway. Mr. Morgan was right behind him. “Michio, listen.”

  Mr. Shiratori didn’t even look back. “Go to hell, Garrett.”

  “Please, not in front of the students.”

  Shiratori spun to face Morgan. “Fifteen years! Fifteen damn years I’ve been teaching and coaching in this school, and now I’m being shut out?”

  “I’m sure the investigation will clear all —”

  “Investigation!” Shiratori threw his hands up. “Tell me you’re not that damned stupid. Think of the kind of ignorant jackasses who brought these so-called charges. In what kangaroo court do you think I’ll possibly get a fair hearing!?”

  I ran up to our old coach. “What’s going on?”

  Mr. Morgan held the main office door open. “Daniel, this is a discussion that would be better served in private. Why don’t we go back to my office, where —”

  “I’m being placed on administrative leave,” Shiratori said.

  Mr. Morgan wiped his brow. “Pending an investigation into allegations of cooperation with the US military during the occupation.”

  “That’s total bullshit!” Sweeney said.

  “Eric, watch your language!” Morgan looked up and down the hall.

  “No, he’s right. That’s total bullshit!” I yelled as loud as I could, just to piss him off, and because it was true.

  “I —” Mr. Morgan started. “There’s nothing I can do. But the important thing is —”

  “Who is accusing him of this?” Becca asked.

  “Nathan Crow says he’s not allowed to tell us that.” Shiratori slid his hands down his face. “Listen, kids. I appreciate your concern, but I think it would be better for you to just stay out of this one. Something’s really not right here. You need to steer clear of this. Don’t try to stick up for me.”

  “Absolutely.” Mr. Morgan twisted the end of his tie. “I think Mr. Shiratori is absolutely correct in thinking of our students first. So I hope you kids will —”

  “You should be sticking up for me, Garrett.” Shiratori turned away and headed out the front doors. “Fifteen years!”

  Morgan went back to his office, and we went back to Cal’s to tell JoBell and TJ what had happened.

  “This is stupid. This is wrong. Criminal.” JoBell grabbed my shoulders. “You have to do something to fix this.”

  “Me? What can I do?”

  “Use your influence,” JoBell said. “Nathan Crow. President Montaine. They listen to you. Call them.”

  “Crow’s not going to do anything,” Sweeney said. “Except favors for his Brotherhood guys.”

  “Crow’s the one behind all this.” Becca stood off to the side of the front picture window, holding her M4 and keeping watch on the street outside. “Shiratori’s not white, so now he’s accused of being a traitor.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” I said. But my words felt hollow.

  JoBell met my eyes, and I knew she felt the same way. She shrugged. “You have to try.”

  “Don’t try to get meds for me,” Sweeney said. “I don’t want that asshole’s help.”

  I took my comm out of my pocket. Funny, I used to be on it all the time, texting, checking FriendStar updates, listening to music. Everything. When we’d first lost Internet back when the occupation started, we’d all kind of gone out of our minds for a while. Now, having been off-line for so long and with such an unreliable Internet connection, I didn’t miss it as much. “Hank,” I said, hoping my stupid digi-assistant would actually work. “Are you there for once?”

  My comm did nothing for a long time. “I’m … an AmeriCAN,” Digi-Hank finally said. “I’m ready … to help.”

  “Give me a voice call on speaker with Nathan Crow.”

  Digi-Hank skipped his usual country music ad, and after a short wait, Crow was on the line. “What can I do for you, Danny?”

  “There was a problem at the school today,” I said.

  “What happened?” Crow sounded worried. “Is everybody okay?”

  “It’s Mr. Shiratori,” I said. “Someone has accused him of basically being a traitor.”

  “Oh.” He sighed. “That. I was worried something else had happened.”

  Becca circled her hand around in a hurry-up-and-get-to-the-point-type gesture.

  “But he’s not a traitor,” I said. “So I was wondering if you could help him out. I mean, I’ll vouch for him or whatever. I know for a fact that he didn’t sell us out to the United States.”

  “I hear you, Danny,” Crow said. “Here’s the thing. This is a tough time, and these situations have to be handled very delicately. I didn’t believe the allegation when it came across my desk, but someone in town does, and that someone probably has friends. If nothing is done, then people get upset, thinking a dangerous traitor is still working against us and convinced that the law isn’t going to do anything about it. Then these people try to take matters into their own hands. So he’s been placed on leave, pending an investigation.”

  “So this is all just for show?” I said. “Coach isn’t going to lose his job or go to jail or something?”

  “Well, I’m going to do my duty and fully look into the matter. There have been some bad things happening around here, things I can’t tell you about, that make it pretty clear a person or persons are working with the United States. So I’m going to find out the truth about Mr. Shiratori. And you have to admit, the guy didn’t help himself when he was out there with a bullhorn next to Major Alsovar this last winter.”

  I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. “For like the who
le week before he did that bullhorn speech, he was hiding me, Sweeney, Cal, Becca, and Luchen from the Fed. We stayed in his basement after we launched a big attack. He fed us. Protected us. Without his help, we’d be dead!”

  “Well, that’s good to know,” said Crow. “I’ll certainly take that into account in my investigation, but we have to make sure his loyalties have been in the right place since then.”

  “He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

  “This conversation is over. Call me when you’re ready to be reasonable.”

  I wanted to smash my comm into the floor. “He tapped out.”

  “I don’t believe him,” Becca said.

  “Me neither,” said Sweeney.

  “I don’t know, guys,” said JoBell. “He said he didn’t believe the accusations either. And could you imagine if there were no one here to keep some kind of order? What would happen then if people were accused of working with the US? They’d be shot right away.”

  “But what does it mean? ‘Conduct an investigation’?” TJ paced the living room. “People in this country — I mean in the United States or North America or whatever — are always conducting investigations. What does Crow think he’s going to find? What evidence?”

  “Screw Nathan Crow,” I said. “I’ll go right over his head to President Montaine.” Sure, the man had said he didn’t have time to take my calls anymore, but that had been pretty much right before the US brought down a major attack on Boise. Anyway, I didn’t care. I’d go through every officer in the Idaho Army if it meant I could help Coach.

  I told Digi-Hank to get me a voice call with the president. The system locked up for the longest time. Finally, after a couple minutes, Digi-Hank spoke up. Kind of. “Hey … part-ner.” Then he was silent.

  “Is that it?” Sweeney said.

  I shook my comm. “Hank? Can you connect that call? It’s important.”

  Nothing.

  We waited another three or four minutes.

  “I don’t think it’s going to work,” JoBell finally said.

  “This is so messed up,” said Becca. “Things around here are getting worse and worse.”

  I wanted to argue with her. We weren’t hiding for our lives in the dungeon under the shop, and there was no open warfare on the streets of Freedom Lake. But I knew what she meant. Something was really wrong.

  —• I am Captain Clarence Benedict, commander of the aircraft carrier Ronald Reagan. With the help of Captain Fletcher Star, commander of the carrier John F. Kennedy and with the help of countless other officers and enlisted personnel, I have taken command of Carrier Strike Groups Nine and Eleven, hereafter designated as Rogue Fleet. I am making this address on behalf of the sailors and Marines of Rogue Fleet, and on behalf of their families.

  Three days ago, when the states of Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina declared themselves the independent nation of Atlantica, Carrier Strike Groups Nine and Eleven were given orders by the United States Navy to move to Tampa Bay, Florida, to engage Carrier Strike Group Two, and to assault hostile military and industrial targets in the area. My fellow members of Rogue Fleet and I have decided that we cannot, in good conscience, obey those orders. We will not willfully attack fellow sailors and Marines. We will not take actions to worsen the civil war or to harm our fellow Americans, no matter their political or national allegiance.

  Therefore, the sailors and Marines of Rogue Fleet, allowing those so desiring to peacefully disembark, are taking our twenty-two warships and leaving the United States, bearing no ill will toward anyone, but very capable of defending ourselves from attack. Any ships entering our waters or aircraft entering our airspace without permission will be deemed hostile and may be seized or destroyed. We hope that someday the wounds caused by this terrible war will begin to heal, and that our fleet can return to the country we loved. Until then, we will take care of our own, and we will pray for peace in what was once the United States of America. •—

  —• Welcome to Adam Coleman Twenty-four Seven, now on NBC. I’m standing about an hour and forty minutes north of Las Vegas, Nevada. What you see behind me is a giant caravan of over one hundred recreational vehicles and about that many cars, trucks, and vans. It’s like a city on wheels, and here with me is the leader of this group, Larry Boyd. Larry, how many people are part of this caravan and what is its purpose?”

  “I’m not the leader.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Is your leader available to —”

  “Ain’t got no leader. This convoy is just made up of people who don’t want to be in the cities when the bombs start dropping or when another nuke goes off.”

  “How do you decide where the convoy goes?”

  “We vote. Majority wins. Folks disagree, they’re free to go off on their own. Only rules we got is everybody helps out with cooking, vehicle repairs, and defending our camp. Oh, and we share fuel so everybody who wants to can stay with us.”

  “This convoy is armed?”

  “You bet your ass we’re armed. America has failed. Can’t you see that? All we got’s each other. So we look out for our own, the way this country should have done before the fall. •—

  —• At zero five hundred hours Korean time, North Korean military forces entered the demilitarized zone and were immediately engaged by the South Korean Army. The armistice that has been in effect for well over half a century is no more, and casualties are mounting as intense fighting has broken out on the Korean Peninsula. The United Nations Security Council has met in emergency session, where delegates from the People’s Republic of China pledged Chinese neutrality in the Korean conflict, provided all other nations adopt the same posture. The Chinese delegation warned of swift and decisive military action against any nations that might intervene. •—

  —• Please stand by for an important announcement here on United States Television, and the Unity Radio Network. Hope for a united America.”

  “I am Vice President General Chuck Jacobsen, speaking to you tonight with President Griffith by my side. When I served as commander of NORAD, part of my responsibilities was to ensure continuity of the United States government even in the face of the most dire and unprecedented circumstances. In the wake of the terrible nuclear attacks on Washington, DC, and New York City, our nation’s military and civilian governments should have been coming together to facilitate our recovery. Instead, greedy criminal opportunists have used our recent tragedy to seize power and sow division and destruction.

  “President Griffith and I are here today to remind the rebel governments of Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, Texas, Oklahoma, New England, and Atlantica that of all the so-called nations in North America, the United States is by far the most well armed. We’re now in complete control of over eighty Air Force wings comprised of hundreds of aircraft. We have assembled armor and multiple infantry divisions from both the Army and Marines. Our massive Navy, based in the states of Washington, Virginia, and North Carolina, is powerful and prepared. As our commander in chief’s most trusted military advisor, I have recommended the implementation of far more aggressive tactics against rebel states, and the president agrees. Madam President?”

  “Yes, Vice President General. I deeply value your military … suggestions in these troubling times. I agree that much more severe measures must be taken against the rebels, and so, I am granting you wide discretionary power over the United States military. I order you to execute your plans immediately.”

  “Thank you, Madam President. I promise that your faith in me is not misplaced. I promise my fellow Americans that I will take all necessary action to crush the rebellions and that I will maintain control and do my best to see us through these troubling times. •—

  —• What does it mean if we never learn the full truth about the conspiracy behind the nuclear attacks? Can there be healing, can people begin to move on, if these mysteries remain unsolved? On the other hand, even if all those responsible are identified and apprehended, is there any kind of punishment that could possibly be appropriate
to this level of destruction? Finally, what hope do we have of recovery while the civil war continues? These questions are our focus tonight here on Issues. •—

  —• All units, all units, this is position one seven nine. We’re being overrun at Snoqualmie Pass. The US is coming through. They blasted open the road barricade with cruise missiles and now armor and infantry units are rolling in. We’re going to fall back to our emergency firing positions, deploying avalanches along the way. All units, be advised, the United States is coming in force. Long live the Brotherhood! •—

  “Hey, wake up!”

  I reached for my nine mil on my nightstand, but it was gone. I rolled out of bed and went for my rifle by the wall, but it wasn’t there either. “What the hell?” I said. I’d been back in Freedom Lake for like ten days or something, and I was getting really sick of not knowing what was going on when I woke up.

  “Chill, Danny,” said TJ. “I have your guns right here. I didn’t want to get shot trying to get you out of bed. But this Brotherhood guy came by. We gotta get down to High School Hospital. Bunch of Idaho soldiers just came in tore up pretty bad. Kemp’s one of them.”

  Me and JoBell were dressed, armed, and upstairs with the others in the kitchen in minutes. Becca and Sweeney were right behind us. We mounted up in Cal’s truck and sped over to the school.

  I’d been in combat enough to be familiar with the aftermath, and as soon as I walked into the gym, I recognized the smell of blood and sweat, the groans of pain and difficult breathing. The gym was packed with cots and stretchers again. Some were even up on the graduation stage. Major Dr. Strauss was conducting surgery under a bright light in the center of the gym floor, right over the Minutemen emblem. They’d found a proper light to replace the ancient spotlight from the drama department they’d been using.

  Dr. Nicole barely lifted her head when we came in. “Becca, can you get some iodine off that table over there?”

  Becca nodded and ran to help.

  “Anything we can do, Doc?” I asked.