by Hunt, James
“You little shit!” Alex said. He lunged at Meeko, and the boy recoiled. “You think you can just run away from me like that?” Alex grabbed Meeko by the throat, and he could see the pain and fear etched across the boy’s face.
“What the hell are you doing?” the sentry asked.
“This little pissant is the reason I’m not home right now drinking a beer,” Alex answered.
“You’re here for a transfer?”
“Yeah. Lucky me, right?”
Three more armed sentries surrounded Alex. The Kevlar covering his chest concealed his heart, which was attempting to burst out of him. The sentries looked around them at all of the workers looking over at the scene unfolding.
“Back to work!” the sentry said, spit flying from his mouth, while his partners aimed their rifles at the mindless bodies. Their activities resumed, and the sentry focused his attention back on Alex. “Where’s he being transferred to?”
“Camp 0241. Look, I’m just doing this as a favor to my boss, all right? You can go ahead and radio him while I load the kid. The sooner I get him up to the camp, the sooner I get to go home and finish my beer,” Alex answered.
Meeko remained on the ground. Alex wasn’t sure if the boy understood everything that was happening, but as long as the kid stayed quiet, they might have a shot. If not, Alex had counted forty-five bullets in the magazines he had on him, and he was going to use as many as he could.
“All right,” the sentry said. “Take him around back, and I’ll confirm with your camp. But I’m sending the paperwork to you. Don’t think you’re pawning that shit off on me, smart-ass.”
Alex yanked Meeko up by the arm and dragged him through the aisles. The boy resisted the entire way. Once the two of them were in the hangar, he beelined it to the first truck he saw. He tossed Meeko inside and started the engine. “You all right, kid?”
Meeko punched Alex in the arm repeatedly, tears running down his face, the salty liquid stinging the open wounds on his cheeks. Alex grabbed Meeko’s fists in his hands, stopping the assault. “Hey. Hey! I’m sorry, okay? Listen. I’m sorry. It’s the only way I could have convinced them.”
Alex wrapped Meeko up in a hug, and he felt the boy weep into his shoulder. He kissed the top of his head. He pressed his fingertips gently to Meeko’s cheek. “Put your seatbelt on, kid.”
The click of Meeko’s belt was followed by the immediate wail of sirens. The jig was up. He slammed the shifter into reverse and floored the accelerator. Sentries dived out of his way as he navigated the truck in reverse to the hangar’s exit.
Bullets ricocheted off the armored truck, and Alex yanked the wheel hard to the left, spinning the truck 180 degrees. He shifted back into drive, the transmission whining from the stress, and again floored the accelerator. The tires bounced off the main road and onto the surrounding open fields, cutting huge divots through the earth. He adjusted the rearview mirror, counting the number of trucks hot on their tail.
“Where are we going?” Meeko asked, shouting above the engine’s throaty rumbling.
“We’ll lose them in what’s left of the forest.”
The sentries’ pursuit now eliminated whatever chance Alex had to break Harper out, but if they managed to pull this off, he still had the seeds he buried as a bargaining chip. He could even try and make it to Washington. Gordon was powerful, but he didn’t control everything. Not yet.
***
The farm camp was in chaos when Gordon arrived. He bulldozed his way to the front office to meet Dean Grout, who had already arrived to investigate the matter.
“They’re all dead?” Gordon asked.
“Every last sentry. I’m not surprised. The camps on the outskirts have gotten lazy,” Dean answered.
“And we still haven’t found Alex?”
“Not yet, but the camp that was attacked was due north of where we lost him in the woods. I’m betting he was behind it, along with taking the kid.”
“What kid?”
“An orphan assigned to Alex’s housing unit. During the blood sampling a few days ago, he was pulled out for having high nutrition levels.”
Gordon stopped. “He came back for the kid?”
“Yeah. The OIC said he came in here dressed like a sentry, faking a transfer to the camp he decimated.”
“I want a unit of men stationed at his community and another unit watching the woods. That’s where he’s headed. And that’s where we’ll hit him.”
“If we find him, do you want him alive?”
“Yes. And bring me Sydney.”
Gordon’s phone buzzed. It was Jake. “Where the hell are you?”
“He’s not talking,” Jake said. “You want me to bring him in?”
“No. I want the diamond mine, not the diamond.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Give them some breathing room. Make them feel comfortable. I think I have another way to get it. And I need you here, now. We have a situation.”
***
The shackles around Sydney’s wrists provided a foreign pain. The unforgiving metal provided no comfort against his bones and tore his flesh. For the first time in his life, he wanted his father. The door that sealed him in his cage creaked upon Gordon opening it, accompanied by Jake.
“So you’re the one who tampered with the samples,” Jake said.
“Look, I can give you the original results. I still have them. I can show you what they’re doing, what they’ve done.”
“We already know what they’re doing,” Gordon said. “We just need to find it.”
“Well, now you have the authority to do it. Everyone in that community had high nutrition levels. One man in particular. I can give him to you.”
“You might be able to give him to me,” Gordon said, “but you can’t give me the work he’s done.”
Sydney wept. Snot and tears dribbled down his face. “P-please. I c-can try. Or you can just force him to give it to you. You can make him.”
“This guy isn’t going to let anyone force him into anything,” Jake said.
“If you get enough of the research that he’s done to create the soil, can you replicate it?”
“Y-yes. If I h-had his original work, I could do it. Right now there’s just too many holes, too many variables. But if I had enough of it, then I could finish it. I could solve it,” Sydney answered.
“For your sake, Sydney, I hope you can,” Gordon said.
***
Every time Warren took any type of deep breath, he could feel a sharp pain emanating through his entire body from a single point on his side. A gurgling sounded deep within his chest and was followed by a violent hacking of spit and blood over his hand and chin as he attempted to cover his mouth.
The hot liquid burned the back of his throat and mouth. He could taste his own death, the warm, metallic flavor of blood. He tried pushing himself to his side, but his collarbone was broken, and any attempt to move at all was stopped short by the pain that now controlled him.
Aside from his own feet and the dead bodies around him, the only other sight in his field of vision was the road leading up to the cul-de-sac. Since Gordon left, there hadn’t been a single person who’d come or gone. The sentries around him circled like buzzards, seeking the carrion buffet at their feet. From what comments Warren could hear, it sounded like Alex was still giving them trouble.
“Hey, how much longer are we going to have to sit here?” a Class One sentry asked.
“For as long as we’re ordered to. Now shut up,” a Class Two sentry replied.
“I’m just saying we could waste the rest of these meat sacks and then go home. Whoever this guy is they’re chasing isn’t coming back here.”
“That’s not what the boss thinks.”
“Why the hell would he come back? For these people? Psh,” Class One said, waving his hand. “I’d let ’em rot.”
The two sentries continued their mumbling but walked too far away for Warren to continue his eavesdropping.
Is Alex still counting on using the seeds in exchange for what he’s done? Gordon wasn’t going to let Alex off without his life and perhaps the life of everyone else in the community.
Another violent gurgle and spit of blood erupted from Warren’s mouth. His body jerked and twisted on the ground. It wouldn’t be much longer. The only question that remained unanswered was if he was going to die from his injuries or a bullet to the head.
***
Machine gun fire blasted behind the truck’s armor-plated siding. Its protection wasn’t going to last much longer. The back window was so shattered and riddled with cracks that Alex couldn’t see how many sentries were in pursuit. Both of his side mirrors had been blown off, and he could feel the engine straining to keep up the hurried pace. Alex kept his foot floored on the accelerator. They were so close to the woods.
“This was a bad idea,” Meeko said, trying to keep himself from falling out of his seat from the swerving, jerking ride, even with his seatbelt on.
“Oh, and would you have liked me to just leave you there?”
“You didn’t have to hit me so hard.”
“And you don’t have to be so ungrateful, punk.”
An explosion of shattered glass signaled the final blow to the rear window, sending some of the shards over the backs of both Alex and Meeko as they ducked. With their back side now exposed, the bullets started peppering the truck’s back row of seats.
“Yeah!” Meeko said. “This is SO much better than the farm camp!”
Alex swerved left and right, giving the sentries a moving target. The front windshield was cracked, but through the broken lines, Alex could see the cluster of dead trees.
“We’re almost there!” Alex yelled.
The boom of gunshots echoed louder now that the rear window was gone, and when another volley of bullets came speeding their way, Alex felt a hot, singeing pain strike his right shoulder. His entire right arm went slack, and before Meeko could scream, the wheel slipped out of Alex’s left hand, and the truck barrel-rolled. It toppled end over end, spraying dirt and glass into the air. Pieces of metal and bits of the undercarriage flung wildly into the sky. The high speed rolled the truck half a dozen times before it finally came to a stop upside down.
The seatbelt drew tight across Alex’s waist as he hung in midair. His right arm was slick with blood that flowed in random patterns down to his fingertips then dripped onto the truck’s ceiling below him. His head throbbed. “Meeko?” He gathered his bearings and finally managed to get a good look at Meeko in the seat next to him. The boy was out of his seatbelt, lying sprawled out on the truck’s ceiling. “Meeko!” Alex couldn’t tell if the boy was breathing or not. His arms and legs were cut up pretty badly, and there was no telling whose blood was whose.
Outside the flipped truck, tires skidded to a halt, and the shouts accompanying the harsh voices snapped Alex back to the situation at hand. The AR-15 he kept was nestled next to Meeko’s lifeless body. He reached for it, his fingertips barely close enough to grab the strap. But by the time he had a good grip on the rifle, the sentries had cracked the door open with a crowbar and yanked him out of the truck.
Alex’s body hit the dirt with a thud, and he could feel the warm, sticky liquid mixing with the dirt and clumping along his body. He tried pushing himself up, but his limp shoulder wouldn’t allow him. His fingers grabbed at the dirt around him, attempting to find anything solid to hold on to, to give him strength. But the dead earth around him offered no such gift.
***
Alex’s head rolled to the left and right on his neck. The thick, blood-soaked sentry uniform had been removed from his body and was replaced by the standard rags given to community members. His body was propped against a wall, with an IV bag hung above his head, dripping its solution into his veins. He slowly opened his eyes, very aware of the throbbing pain still in his shoulder.
The blood and metal that had covered his arm had been replaced by bandages and a sling. There was a clang of a door opening, and a blurred figure, followed by a few others, walked briskly toward him. Alex blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to make the images come into focus.
“It’s good to see you alive, Alex.”
Even though Alex still couldn’t see the man, he recognized the voice. It was Gordon.
“We had the doctors patch you up as best they could. You almost lost that arm, which would have been bad for both of us,” Gordon said.
“Meeko. Where is—”
“The boy’s alive and well. In fact, he’s going to come inside and join us in just a little bit. Your people, this community,” he said, exposing his palms openly to the walls around him, “they love you. They’re loyal to you. Those other seeds you told me about, no one gave them up. Not a single person, and trust me, we were very, very thorough.”
Flashes of screams and gunshots began to break through Alex’s mind. He could feel his body start to tremble. He shut his eyes, furiously trying to quiet the noise.
“It didn’t matter how many times we beat them. Or what we threatened to do to them. They just wouldn’t betray you,” Gordon continued.
Alex could feel the heat of fire. The flames licked his arms, legs, chest, and face. More screams. More gunshots. More pounding. More pleading. More heat. More gunshots.
“And the fact that they didn’t betray you tells me either one of two things: one, there are no seeds, which would make sense, seeing as how most seed silos were burned down by the extremists in the first few months of the famine. But with your history and track record, you were never the kind of man to bluff. So that leads me to option two: you do have the seeds. Your community does know where they are. And you were such a powerful, polarizing figure to them that they would let themselves die before they’d betray you,” Gordon said, his hot breath beating down on Alex’s ear.
The visions started to subside, and Alex felt himself come back to the moment. He slowly opened his eyes, and the smooth, rounded features of Gordon’s face came into view. “I still want my deal,” Alex said.
“Oh, the seeds for Meeko and Harper’s freedom? Well, I want a new deal.” Gordon turned around to his associate in a black leather jacket and nodded. The man walked out of the room and wheeled in a man with bandages on his face, neck, and arms.
“Warren?” Alex asked.
“And he was worried you weren’t going to recognize him,” Gordon said, slapping Warren on the shoulder. “So here’s the deal, Alex. You’re going to do something for me, or I’m going to kill Warren.”
“Not until you coordinate a release for Meeko and Harper approved by the representatives and the President’s office,” Alex said, his upper lip quivering. “You hear me? You’re not going to get the seeds until that happens.”
“Alex, you really think what representatives are left have any jurisdiction here?” Gordon squatted down to his knees, making sure he was at eye level with Alex. His voice softened. “And what makes you think I still want the seeds?” Gordon extended his hand behind him, and the man in the black leather jacket handed him a pistol. Gordon rose and pressed the end of the pistol’s barrel into the side of Warren’s head. “You’re going to come back and work for me again, or I pull the trigger.”
“What?”
“There’s a community in Wyoming that has something I want. And if you don’t go in there and get it for me, then I’m going to bring in your community members one by one and shoot them in front of you until you agree. Starting with him. I’ll give you to the count of three, Alex.”
“Don’t make me do this. Please.”
“One.”
“The seeds! I can still give you the seeds.”
“Two.”
“GODDAMMIT, LISTEN TO ME! The seeds are buried out behind—”
The high-pitched ringing that filled Alex’s ears following the gunshot silenced his own voice. He could feel the pain in his throat, the pressure in his head, and the thrashing of his limbs, but no matter how hard he screamed, he couldn’t hear himself.
Warren’s body was dragged out and replaced with Meeko, who broke down in tears at the sight of Warren’s lifeless body. Alex could see the stitches on Meeko’s cheeks. Gordon had given everyone medical attention to make sure they were alive and well for when he put a gun to their heads.
The man in the black leather jacket positioned Meeko right where Warren had been. Bits of blood and brain matter still soiled the floor. The ringing in Alex’s ears slowly subsided, and Meeko’s sobs grew louder. Gordon placed the gun to Meeko’s head. Alex became aware of Gordon mouthing his countdown. He didn’t let him get to two.
