by Trent Reedy
Crow had organized this whole thing. Why? To show me the advantages of joining the Brotherhood? Did I even have a choice? I took a sip of my beer, but it had gone warm.
What followed was the weirdest party any kid ever had. We had freshmen in high school and guys in their forties or older. The parents of some of our friends showed up. Most of the drinks were provided by the only guys in Freedom Lake who were remotely like the cops. Sweeney limped up to me on the deck and commented, “What the hell is going on here? I’ve never had much respect for the twenty-one-year-old drinking age, but these old dudes welcoming us to the keg? That’s all kinds of jacked up.”
After several hours and I don’t know how many beers, it got to be too much, so I found an old two-liter plastic Mountain Dew jug, washed it out, and filled it with beer. Then I bummed a couple cheap cigars and a lighter from a member of the Brotherhood and went off to be alone for a while.
Sally’s … Cal’s house was only a few blocks from JoBell’s, so I lit up one of the cigars and thought I’d walk by her old house. The streetlight at the corner wasn’t working, so it was real dark in front of JoBell’s place. Of course the lights were off inside. JoBell was back at the party, and her father was still in Boise. Mr. Rourke’s house next door was dark too. Nobody had heard from him since Major Alsovar and his US soldiers arrested the guy for driving without permission during the occupation. I chugged some more beer.
Down at the end of the block, a section of sidewalk had been pushed up years ago by a big tree root growing underneath it. When we were kids, we all used to jump our bikes over it. But a US Army Schwarzkopf tank or some other tracked vehicle had crushed it back down, probably on the night the Fed occupation began.
As I neared Main Street, two Brotherhood guys raised their shotguns at me. “Stop! Who are you? What are you doing out so late?” one of them shouted.
I held my fist up at an angle over my head, my cigar still smoldering. “ ’m Danny Wright. Pissh off.” I took another drink and kept on walking. One of the guys said something about it being an honor, but I wasn’t listening.
I tripped at Main Street and damn near dropped my beer. Looking down to make sure I had my footing, I noticed the yellow painted curb that had nearly dumped me. Me, Cal, and Sweeney had sat here one summer for the Fourth of July parade. The band had been marching by, and JoBell had played her flute, wearing these tiny little shorts. I smiled at the memory.
Then a noise down the street caught my attention. Some Brotherhood guys were coming to relieve the guard shift in front of the old cop shop where Crow had set up the Brotherhood headquarters. A lot more Fed soldiers had been outside that base the day I’d set off a roll of barbed wire stuffed with C4. I never saw the bodies, but back in Major Alsovar’s torture cell, he’d made sure I’d seen the dog tags from one of his friends I’d killed.
I walked down the empty streets of my hometown. I remembered driving here in the Beast with JoBell at my side. I remembered me and my friends running for our lives from the Fed.
I’d lived my whole life in Freedom Lake, and I knew every street, house, and bump in the road. Every part of this town carried with it a memory of growing up here. But now those memories had turned to shit. Everything had been ruined.
My beer was getting a little warm by the time I made it to the front porch of the house where me and Mom used to live. It was never much of a place, but we used to do good keeping it nice. This spring, Mom’s flower beds were a wreck. The gutters needed to be cleaned out. The white paint was starting to chip pretty bad. I sat on the wooden handrail at the side of the porch, hoping the old thing would hold me.
My cigar had gone out, and I flicked it to the porch. It had been something like nine months since life had been normal for Mom and me. Now she was gone, and times when it was real quiet like this, I could still hear her screaming in pain as she bled out in my truck from that Fed bullet. The sound blended with the memory of Specialist Sparrow’s screams, echoing around me when Major Alsovar caught us in the basement of the Bucking Bronc.
I closed my eyes and shook my head to escape the noise.
But behind my closed eyes I couldn’t forget crawling past Bagley and First Sergeant Herbokowitz back in the shop. My hand had brushed Herbokowitz’s intestines, the thick, blood-soaked pink-white hose.
This is Private First Class Luchen. Out. That explosion.
My lungs couldn’t pull enough air. I put my hand to my chest to try to help. Short, sharp gasps. Then my nine mil was out, and I squeezed the pistol grip hard until my arm shook. My free hand moved over the cool, even metal of the slide, and my chest opened to let in a gulp of cool air.
I yanked back the slide and let it go, chambering a round. It was such a satisfying sound, that smooth metal scrape and click. So easy.
It’d be over.
A noise behind me. I stood fast and swung my gun arm in its direction. The gun went off.
“Shit, Danny! It’s me! Don’t shoot!” TJ was on the ground.
My heart pounded and my breath came heavy as I pointed the shaky gun for a moment. A dog’s bark echoed from a few blocks away. “Damn it. Sorry.” I holstered the gun. “Acshident. Y’okay?”
TJ stood up. “I’m fine.” Jaclyn Martinez came around the corner of the house next door. TJ led her up onto my porch. “Almost shit my pants, but I’m fine.”
“You scared the shit out of me. Serioushly. I’m sorry. I thought it was somebody tryin’ to jump me.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” TJ said. “What happened to rule number one?”
“When JoBell couldn’t find you, everybody freaked out,” Jaclyn said. “People are looking for you. JoBell and Cal went out to the football field. Becca and Sweeney are checking out the shop. Some of the Brotherhood are driving around.”
“I didn’t plan to go like all around,” I said. “I’m shorry. I’ma total jackwad.”
TJ picked up my plastic bottle from where it sat on the porch rail. He sniffed it and took a drink. Then he pulled a little radio from his pocket. “I better call in and let them know you’re okay.”
“Fine,” I said. “But no.” I reached out and pushed his radio down. “Don’t call ’em … you know. Letsh jes walk back. I don’t want a big thing.”
“Should we get going, then?” TJ asked.
I took my beer jug back from him and chugged the rest of it down. It was so warm that for a second, I thought I might puke it up. “Ushta be able to walk ’round and not have to worry. Not have to carry a damned gun.”
“Or have a giant wall around the whole town,” Jaclyn said.
“I jes hadda get away from my birthday party,” I said. I couldn’t tell them about how I’d thought about getting away from everything. “Shit, TJ, they celebratin’ me? Affer everything I done? Affer I’ve killed so many people? And the whole war. Millions dead. A party ain’t right. I been dreaming of getting out of the war and trying to get back to normal life, but …”
“It’ll never be like it was before,” Jaclyn said. “For anybody.”
“Tonight Crow said he’s gonna make me one of ’em. Damn armband an’ everything.”
“What did you say?” TJ asked.
“The hell you think I said?” I rubbed the back of my hand against my eye. “I don’ wanna be one of ’em, but what d’ya think Crow’s gonna do I say no? Like you an’ Becca said. Don’t pish ’em off, right? I acted like it was so cool.”
TJ let out a relieved breath.
“TJ, whatta hell was it all for?” I asked. I leaned against the wall of my house. “I tried to tell myself maybe the Brotherhood was okay. That they was doing the best they could? I wanted to believe all that good shit Cal and Crow was saying. And maybe they done a few good thingsh. But you and Becca were right. They ain’t no good. What they done to Shiratori. You didn’t see him the other day, TJ. Wouldn’ta recognized him.” I tried to meet Jaclyn’s eyes, but it was too dark. I was too drunk. “What they’re doing to Jaclyn’s family.” I looked down a
t the worn floorboards. “And it’s my fault! I helped those assholes.”
Jaclyn put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
“It’s all my fault,” I said. “And I can’t fix it. What we gonna do? Fight the Brotherhood? They jes kill anybody disgrees with ’em. They got guys everywhere. Got everybody boxed in here. Ain’t like fighting the Fed, ’cause half the town is on their side.”
“Plus the US is on its way,” Jaclyn said.
“Right? We can’t fight ’em both. So. Tired. Of. Fighting.” I smacked the wall behind me with each word. I looked up at TJ. “Your folks had that cabin. Could we go there? All of us? You, me, Shweeney, Becca, JoBell —”
“And Cal?” TJ asked.
“Cal ain’t gonna agree to come with us,” I said. “He’s so wrapped up with those assholes.”
“Go ahead,” Jaclyn said to TJ.
“What?” I asked.
“Let’s let him sober up first, at least,” TJ said.
“No, come on. We have to tell him.”
I was clumsy as I pushed myself off the wall. “Tell me what!?”
TJ looked up and down the street, making sure we were alone. He draped his arm around the back of my neck and pulled me in almost like a football huddle. “I wanted to tell you about this for a long time, but I couldn’t because I wasn’t sure where you stood, and we can’t risk the wrong people finding out about this.”
“A lot of people have been thinking like you, wanting to leave,” Jaclyn said. “You’re right. Plenty of people here in town, even good people, are solidly with the Brotherhood. But some of us, a growing number we can trust, are tired of putting up with those guys. But we aren’t going to fight them, because that would just mean more deaths of good people here in Freedom Lake.”
“We’re leaving town, Danny,” TJ said.
“Who? When?”
“About a hundred of us,” he said. “Soon.”
Jaclyn rubbed my back a little. “Let’s get you home so you can sleep this off. We’ll talk more about it in the morning.”
“I’ll take you to the Macers’ house tomorrow,” TJ said. “We already planned a meeting there. But you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody.”
“JoBell?” I asked.
“Yes.” TJ watched the street. “Of course tell JoBell, but don’t tell anyone else. We have to keep this quiet, or we could end up in deep shit.”
Once, in English class, we were assigned to do argument speeches. I forget what mine was about, but Sweeney did his about lowering the drinking age to eighteen. “Besides drinking and driving, which is illegal anyway, there are really no problems with eighteen-year-olds drinking alcohol,” he said.
I remembered that argument the next morning as I stood in the shower. “Sweeney. I’m eighteen. I drank alcohol,” I whispered with my throbbing head pressed to the cool tile. “This is a problem.” I threw up once in the shower, and again in the toilet once I’d finished and dried off.
It turned out Becca and Sweeney were already in on this thing TJ had started to tell me about, so just JoBell, TJ, and me headed out to the Macers’ that morning. I still felt like shit. By the time we knocked on their front door, I had to heave into the shrubberies beside the front steps.
Cassie opened the door without her usual smile. I couldn’t tell if she was down because she’d figured out that Sweeney wasn’t into her anymore, or if she was ready for the serious stuff that TJ had brought us here for. Or maybe she was just hungover too.
“Come in,” she said.
Tim and Mr. and Mrs. Macer were in the living room. An old woman sat on the couch. Skylar Grenke and his dad stood in the corner. Everyone held some sort of rifle or shotgun. Most carried a sidearm too.
“Welcome,” Mrs. Macer said. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything?”
“Wa —” I shuffled my dry tongue around enough to talk. “Water. Please.”
Mr. Macer chuckled. “Rough night, buddy?”
“Yes,” said the older woman. “I hear you were partying with Nathan Crow last night. Close to the Brotherhood of the White Eagle, are you?”
“Not really,” I said.
“Word is the Brotherhood is going to make you one of them,” said the woman. “That you’ve accepted Crow’s offer to let you join the Brotherhood on graduation day.”
I had no idea how this woman knew about that, but then again, word traveled fast in a small town. “Crow pretty much insisted that I join them,” I said quietly. “What was I supposed to say?”
“He’s figured them out. He’s with us,” TJ said. “We can trust him.”
Cassie’s dad spoke up. “Danny, JoBell, this is my mother-in-law, Tabitha Pierce. She’s kind of been in charge of all this from the very beginning.”
Mrs. Pierce stood up with one hand on her hip and the other on the handle of the pistol in the holster on her belt. Her jeans and blue button-down shirt fit loose on her thin frame, and her frizzy, dark gray hair was pulled back in a bun. “I didn’t trust this Brotherhood of the White Eagle as soon as they made themselves public,” she started, “and honestly, I’m a little surprised that you ever did.”
I ought to have knocked TJ on his ass for hauling me out of bed for a lecture. “The Brotherhood saved my life a few times,” I said, “so, you know, I gave them a chance. I didn’t know things would go down this way.”
“You didn’t know?” she asked. “My father was in the Army. He helped liberate the Nazi death camp at Dachau. One time he had to guard some German POWs, prisoners who probably worked at those camps or at least knew about them. He said they didn’t seem evil. Friendly as some of our neighbors back home. Then he told me, ‘The evil’s always at the door. It’s not in far-away mysterious monsters. It’s always around us, even in us, and we must always guard against it.’” A faraway look had come into the old woman’s eyes. Then she snapped back to the present. “The Brotherhood is dangerous, and we are not going to wait around until they finish that wall and control everything we do. It’s time to take action. What I need to know is, are you with us or not? Can we trust you or not? Because you’re either completely committed to our cause, or you can get out of here right now.”
Mrs. Macer came back with some ice water, and I gulped down half of it right away. Then I sat up in my chair. “Fine,” I said. “I’m not Crow’s friend, I didn’t even want that damned party, and I damn sure don’t want to join them. I’ve seen enough to know that the Brotherhood is bad news.”
Mrs. Pierce allowed a hint of a smile. “Then welcome to the resistance.”
“Oh no.” I glared at TJ. “I’ve been in the resistance before. I told everyone, including TJ, that I’m done fighting wars.” My head kept throbbing, and I closed my eyes for a moment. “You can’t beat the Brotherhood. The Feds were just soldiers from far away who happened to be assigned here. The Brotherhood knows every inch of this town just as good as we do, and they won’t give it up without a hell of a fight.”
“We’re not going to fight them,” said Skylar’s dad.
“Then what kind of resistance are you?” JoBell asked.
“We’re leaving Freedom Lake,” said Mrs. Pierce. “A hundred of us are getting ready to leave town. They’re all people we absolutely know we can trust, people who the Brotherhood doesn’t take kindly to, or who can’t stand the injustices under their control.”
“How do you know the Brotherhood will let you leave?” I asked, remembering what Mr. Shiratori had said about trying to go to Seattle.
“That’s part of the problem,” Mr. Grenke said. “I tried to get my family out of town last week. The Brotherhood … I guess you’d say guards, stopped us before we left town. They didn’t say we weren’t allowed to leave, but they kept warning us about all these terrible things that would happen to us if we went.”
“Everybody needs to stay here and work together,” Skylar said. “That’s what they kept saying.”
“Read between the lines,” said Mr. Macer. “They won’t let peo
ple leave. They need people to help them fight if the US makes it back here again. And I think they have some idea of starting some kind of youth brainwashing program at the school. They’re looking at the long game.”
“So we’re working on a plan to sneak or fight our way out,” said Mrs. Pierce.
“I still say we fight our way free,” said Mr. Grenke. “Take out the guards on the north end of town and roll through the gap in the wall.”
“That’s suicide,” I said.
“Maybe not if we had Pale Horse with us,” TJ said.
They wanted my truck? I gripped the chair harder for a moment. “Even then,” I said. “They’d come after us.”
“You have a better plan?” Tim asked.
I massaged my temples with my fingertips. “Right now, all I got’s a headache. But even if we could get out of town without getting everyone killed, we’d need a place to go. I seriously doubt there’s room for a hundred people at your cabin, TJ.”
Mrs. Pierce spoke up. “When I came home from Vietnam, I wanted to get away from things, be at peace with the world and with nature. I wanted to help people. So I took a job as a nurse at the Alice Marshall School, deep in the River of No Return wilderness area. The place was built in the nineteen thirties and turned into a kind of girls’ reform school in the mid-sixties.”
“A girls’ reform school?” I asked. The old Sweeney would have been super excited. “We’re just going to bust in there and invade their school? Like the Feds took over our high school?”
Mrs. Pierce shook her head. “I was talking on FriendStar with an old teacher friend of mine. Because of the war, they closed down the school and sent the girls home. The place is sitting empty.” She smiled. “It’s a large property. Several buildings. Classrooms. Bunk cabins. Should be in fine shape. Safe. Far out of the way from anyone.”
“Are we sure it’s safe?” JoBell asked. “Have you heard this pirate radio guy, the Cliffhanger? He’s like always on the run, broadcasting the real news and calling for peace. He says the Brotherhood is expanding its territory, offering what they call ‘protection’ to more and more cities.”
