by Jack Bates
They’re running away. They don’t get far. Popping up out of the field and from behind trees is an army of soldiers wearing camouflage uniforms. These soldiers open fire on the fleeing civilians.
Matt wraps his arm around mine. We both look up at the sky. Hovering over the stadium is a pair of black helicopters. On the bottom they have an emblem similar to the one Brent wore on his arm.
It’s the elite forces. They’ve arrived, albeit too late for Striker or Brent. Men in black body armor holding sniper rifles lean out of the open doors on the sides of the helicopters. They take aim. These soldiers fire at the camo warriors. More body armor wearing soldiers arrive in large trucks. They swarm out of the beds and confront the camo wearing warriors. An all-out war is now raging in the fields behind Freedom House. Although we can’t hear the rapport of the rifles, I can tell from the recoil that they are shooting into the infield. Probably taking out the runners.
But then I see Sledge appear atop the east end bleachers. He raises his double barrel over and under shotgun. He fires twice and racks in two more slugs. Before he can squeeze off a third shot, his chest explodes; a sniper in a helicopter has shot Sledge. He topples backwards and disappears down the bleachers.
Who is fighting whom?
“We have to go back in,” Matt says. I don’t disagree. We turn around and go inside. Yuki barks at the helicopters and then runs full throttle away from us. It pains me to lose her again, but she has better survival instincts than I do.
We are not alone in the corridor. I have the gun out in front of me and it’s pointed at Aubrey’s back. Leslie hears us, and she screams when she sees the gun. Aubrey still has my sling shot on his wrist. Behind him Tessa holds my hand axe. Dirks is with them. So is Shannon. I don’t see the baby.
“You,” Tessa says. She points the axe at me. Everyone can see the white pustules on the underside of her arm. “You did this. You brought them here.” She rushes me, swinging the axe up and in front of her. It strikes the cinder block next to my face and slides up over the wall. Leslie rushes her and pins her against the wall. She claws at the axe, but Tessa keeps trying to swing it sidearm to hit me. I’m afraid she’s going to swing it backwards over her shoulder and strike Leslie.
Aubrey grabs the wrist of the axe-swinging arm. I wince hoping he doesn’t touch the rash. He smashes Tessa’s knuckles against the cinder block and the axe falls to the ground.
“What are you people doing?” Tessa asks. Her voice echoes. “She led the Guard right to us.”
“No, she didn’t,” Matt says. “It was those rabbits that came with Gumm. They had tracker chips in their arms.”
“How do you know?” Tessa says. She’s on the verge of hysteria. It takes all of what Aubrey has to hold her back. I’m completely freaked out that he is touching her. Trust me, it’s not jealousy. It’s concern that he’s exposing himself to the rash. His arms are around her waist and he lifts her off her feet. Tessa kicks wildly in the air, almost striking Shannon. Dirks pulls Shannon out her arc.
“They told us,” Matt says. “That’s what I was trying to tell Denny, but he wouldn’t listen. Jimmy smashed me in the mouth.”
“Who were those other soldiers?” I ask. “The ones the helicopters were shooting at.”
“What other soldiers?” Shannon asks.
“I saw them too,” Matt says. “They were wearing camo.”
Outside there is intermittent gun fire. There is a series of small explosions.
“We have to get out of here,” Dirks says.
“There are helicopters,” I tell them. “Not to mention two different armies that seem to be at war with one another, and who knows how many runners that could have escaped from the Velodrome.”
“There has to be close to a hundred foot soldiers out there,” Aubrey says. “We aren’t going anywhere.”
“What do we do?” Leslie asks. She’s crying.
Right then we hear the marching of many booted men coming down the north-south hall. They’ve found the trapdoor in the track, I realize. At the same time, I see camo wearing troops running pass the west door’s window. The ground troops are surrounding us. We’re about to be caught in the crossfire of two warring factions.
A commanding voice echoes down the corridor. “Surrender any and all weapons immediately. Surrender any and all weapons immediately.”
Dirks looks nervously at the gun in my hand. “Do it,” he says. “Drop that thing. Get rid of it.”
“No,” Tessa screams. “We have to fight them!”
“Drop the gun or they will kill us!” Dirks yells, and jabs his finger at me.
It’s as if it is a part of my hand. I stare at it, but I can’t drop it. The commanding voice repeats its warning. The marching of boots grows louder. The sounds of war continue outside. Through the glass doors I see several camo warriors drop after being shot by automatic weapons. The ones who haven’t been gunned down try to make it to the trees.
“Drop the gun!” Dirks yells.
I let it tumble to the floor. Unlike in the movies, it does not discharge when it strikes the concrete. When the gunfire erupts, it erupts because Tessa snaps. She tosses the hand axe to the floor and scoops up the gun. She turns and fires it at the soldiers coming in from the west door. The bullets strike the wall but the soldiers don’t flinch.
“Everyone to the floor now!” the commander yells.
Matt pulls me to the floor. Aubrey falls next to us. Dirks and Shannon drop together, their arms around one another. Leslie trembles and doubles over, holding her stomach. Leslie falls to her knees, a sweaty palm on the cinder block for support. When the two lead soldiers fire on Tessa and kill her, Leslie vomits. It probably saves her life, because she doubles over and drops to the ground as the gunfire erupts.
My head is turned so that I can look down the hall. Two soldiers run forward. One of them shakes out a black bag made of heavy plastic. The soldier spreads it out on the floor next to Tessa.
“Hey,” I yell. The two soldiers look at me. “She’s infected.”
One of the soldiers looks at Tessa’s body. The other walks over to me. For a second, I think he’s going to kick me in the mouth.
“She’s right,” the soldier kneeling next to Tessa’s body says. “We’re going to have to burn her.”
The soldier towering over me glares down at me. He pulls on a pair of gloves and goes back to helping his partner.
One of the soldiers takes Tessa’s body by the legs while the other lifts her by the arms. They fit her inside the bag, zip it closed, and carry her out of the stadium.
The word “clear” is repeated many times. When it ceases, we are helped to our feet and placed against the wall. The troops stand across from us. Their short, automatic weapons are in the rest position: the barrels point down, the stocks rest across the abdomens of the troops. Leslie can’t look at the soldiers. She has her face turned into Aubrey’s shoulder. None of us say anything, but I know we’re all thinking the same thing.
We’re about die.
The east door opens and in walks Auntie Alice. The troops snap to attention. She approaches with nothing but cool confidence. When she stops in front of us, she says simply, “At ease.” The troops assume the position: feet shoulders’ width apart, knees relaxed, arms behind their back, weapons slung over their right shoulder.
Auntie Alice smiles at us. “Well,” she says. “Surprise.”
Shannon speaks first. “I left my baby at the house with you.”
“Your baby is fine. It has been evacked to Camp G.”
Shannon turns nervously to Dirks. When she turns back to Auntie Alice, or whomever she is, she says, “You always told us to fear the Guard. Never to trust Camp G or its occupiers.”
“I had my orders, Shannon. I was embedded at Freedom House to observe. We had intel Denny Erickson was trying to make contact with the Guard.”
“The Guard?” Dirks asks. “Isn’t this the Guard?”
“No,” Auntie Alice says. “These ar
e the Elite Forces out of D.C. We were brought in to counter the advances of the Guard. Now it is important you do as we ask. We are taking you to Camp G.”
Leslie’s scream is so terrifying I feel my skin ripple in gooseflesh. “No,” she says again. “You are the Guard. You are the Guard. You killed Sledge. I saw it. I saw it!”
Auntie Alice nods her head. “Sergeant Harper,” she says.
A soldier steps forward. The soldier pulls a syringe from a belt pack. Now Aubrey and Dirks move defensively to protect one of their own. Three soldiers raise their weapons.
“Enough of this,” Auntie Alice says. Guard or not, the others from Freedom House react to her familiar tone. “Aubrey, hold Leslie.”
Aubrey grabs Leslie’s arms and pulls them behind her. She tries to twist free, but the farm boy overpowers her. Always eager to impress his superiors, Aubrey obliges.
“Aubrey, please,” Leslie says. Her voice is a soft, heart-wrenching plea. “Don’t give me to the Guard.”
Sergeant Harper plunges the needle into the side of Leslie’s neck. Her eyes flutter. They search Aubrey’s face. Her head swings around like it is on a pivot. Her eyes are dull and empty.
Sergeant Harper steps forward. She raises the black shield covering her face. “Sir.”
“Begin the processing,” Auntie Alice says. “Take these people out to the others in the field.”
“Yes, sir!” Sergeant Harper turns to the rest of the troops facing us. She points at us and then at the door. The troops take a step forward and pivot to face the west door.
A soldier lifts his visor. He smiles at Shannon and addresses her by her name. Shannon’s eyes tear.
“Gordon?”
“Everything will be fine,” the soldier says.
Shannon looks at Auntie Alice. The matriarch of Freedom House smiles, then nods her head. Shannon gasps. She puts a hand to her chest. Her legs become rubber bands. Dirks steps forward and takes Shannon by the arm. He whispers in her ear and they follow the troops out. A pair of soldiers takes the limp Leslie from Aubrey. They put Leslie’s arms around their shoulders and drag her out behind Dirks and Shannon. Aubrey hangs back and then leaves. Matt hooks his arm around mine and we start to leave when Auntie Alice stops us.
“You may leave, Matthew,” Auntie Alice says.
A look of concern comes over Matt’s face. “What about Robbie?” he asks.
“She’s coming with me.”
Matt holds my arm a little tighter. He is reluctant to leave me behind with Auntie Alice. It is Sergeant Harper who eventually leads him out of the stadium, but not before he’s turned at least twice to take what he probably thinks is the last look he’ll ever get of me.
“I’m guessing you have some questions,” Auntie Alice says.
She doesn’t know the half of it.
Fourteen
I’m rushed under guard to a helicopter. I’m barely in a seat when the others plop down and the helicopter lifts off. The higher we go, the more of the carnage I can see on the ground. Soldiers in black uniforms swarm around the pit like an army of fire ants. Some herd people into black painted transport trucks. Others carry the dead. Still others use the runners for target practice. A patrol of Elites returns from the trees after capturing some of the Guard.
A helicopter still on the ground near Petunia fires up its rotary blades. Soldiers load in some of Gumm’s dowry presenters; they’re just kids, I think. My age or so. The helicopter gets maybe ten feet off the ground when Petunia erupts into a fireball. Flames sweep through the open door of the copter. It spins in place like it is hanging on an invisible string. A few seconds later that string snaps and the copter drops to the ground, landing on its side. The back propeller flies off and it cuts up a pair of soldiers and the prisoner they have by the arms.
My stomach drops, and not because the helicopter ascends. I think the prisoner with the soldiers was Matt.
“Get us out of here,” Auntie Alice says.
We lurch forward. I nearly topple onto the floor. I look out the open door for any sign of Matt below us. Soldiers chase after Denny and Scarecrow Jimmy. Our pilot banks and the copter soars away from the melee.
No one says anything for a long time. I finally break the silence.
“I don’t understand,” I say to Auntie Alice. She points to her ears. When she puts on headphones, I do the same. I repeat what I just said into a tiny microphone on the end of a movable arm. My voice sounds like it’s full of buzzing insects.
“D.C. is trying to fight the war on two fronts,” she says. “On one, it’s going after the runners. On the other hand, it’s trying to round up subversives like Freedom House or the Guard.”
“But if they don’t want to be a part of the new world, why bother them?”
“There is no ‘new world.’ The old one is still there. It just needs to be rebuilt. We are attempting to reintroduce the people in the Safety Zone to the world they had to flee.”
“What about the runners?”
“There’s a group of scientists developing a vaccine.”
“The runners will be cured?”
Auntie Alice doesn’t say anything. She just looks at me. A vaccine, I realize, means it will be used on those of us who haven’t been infected by the Balzini Moss spores.
“So who’s working on the weed killer to use on the runners?” I ask. This, at least, makes her smile.
“There are groups for that, too.”
We stare at each other as the helicopter carries us to Camp G. We will arrive a full hour before the transport with the others does.
“You want to know why it was me,” Auntie Alice says.
“You scared the living shit out of me. Especially when you beat Matt with the book. Did any of them know you were undercover?”
She shakes her head. “No one could. When you showed up, I thought you might be working for D.C.”
“Is that why you had Aubrey drug me with the spiked lemonade?”
“You could have also been a spy for the subversives.”
“Yeah, but you knew who I was, like those two guys in the Velodrome knew who I was. That woman I rescued from the port-a-john. She sent all the information to you guys, even though I’m not sure how.”
Auntie Alice points at the roof of the helicopter. “Satellites.”
“Those things are still working?”
“You’d be surprised to find what all is still working.”
“Then what is going on?”
“More and more of the underground groups are banding together. They’re working together to resist reintroduction. The Guard we just fought back there is trying to recruit splinter groups like Freedom House or Gumm’s tribe.”
Reintroduction. A new term for returning the world to the way it was. “You make it sound like we’re headed to another civil war.”
“You saw what happened today. The longer this goes on, the less likely we’re going to survive as a nation.”
“I saw a lot of shit go down today,” I say. “I get why you did what you had to do back there. Guys like Denny are the kings of their serfdoms, and they don’t want to lose the power.”
“There’s a little more to it than that, Robin.”
“What I don’t get, though, are the runners.”
Auntie Alice wrinkles her brow inquisitively. “What do you mean?”
“You have all these scientists working on cures and herbicides, but none of them have noticed the mutations?”
She gives me the same look.
“The ant-like jaws? The thought processing? Come on, Auntie Alice, or whoever you are. I’m a seventeen-year-old girl.” I stop. It’s been over a year, I remind myself. I’m eighteen now.
“I’ve been stalked by runners for like thirteen months,” I tell her. “They’re changing, and I think you’ve known it for a while. You were digging on me for information that night so you could relay it to your superiors.”
“You’re a smart young woman, Robin. There are some people I’d like
you to meet when we get to Camp G.”
We ride the rest of the way without talking. Besides the two of us in the back, there’s a pair of pilots and a soldier who mans a heavy-duty and nasty looking machine gun. At some point along the route he indicates something is below in a marshy area. He holds up four fingers, folds them, and holds up three. I no longer have my headphones on, but I can tell there is some excited chatter going on from the way Auntie Alice and the others are moving around trying to get a look at what’s below.
The helicopter drops and tips a bit to one side. I’m thankful I have the cross-strap harness on, but all the same, I dig my fingers into the padding of the seat I’m sitting on. I chance a glance as the wide open door panel reveals a group of seven runners. They are moving in unison along a lonely stretch of winding, twisting, two-lane blacktop. There is one runner in front. Behind it are two rows of three runners, all marching behind the leader. They move in formation.
The helicopter sweeps around and now the side the gunner is on dips slightly. I can hear the roar of the gun as the soldier operates it. Below, the runners split and rip apart. Just when I think they are dead, the helicopter rises and turns a perfect 180. Now the nose dips forward. There’s a whoosh as something flies free from beneath the copter. A second later, a fireball blooms below us. As it recedes, I see the burning husks of the runners.
They were once people, I think. Maybe a family. Maybe something in their fungus infested brains kept them together.
The rest of the flight is quiet. There is something hypnotic about the whump-whump-whump of the blades whirling above me. My eyes feel heavy and I want to fall into a deep sleep, but I’m still not comfortable around the woman who was introduced to me as “Auntie.” She is in total and complete control of an army. Who is this woman, and how did she get so much power?
