The Last Orphans

by N.W. Harris

  Tracy stepped forward between Shane and Kelly, snatched the radio handset out of its cradle, and spoke into it. “We’ve got to drive by this time.” She glanced at Shane, her steely eyes saying, Don’t be so dumb as to take on more passengers.

  After a long pause, Steve’s agitated response came, “Well, what the hell do you want me to do?”

  It was clear he wasn’t taking orders from Tracy—he waited for Shane to decide. Shane’s questioning gaze fell to Kelly.

  “I think he’s talking to you,” she said, pointing at the radio.

  Wondering why the hell he had to be the boss, he took the handset from Tracy and raised it to his mouth. “She’s right,” he said pensively. “We have to get some help for Matt.” He released the talk button and put the handset back in its holder.

  The sense he may have just condemned a bunch of innocent kids to death nurtured a thick lump in the back of his throat. But why? Did he really think the kids in these buses, who followed him blindly and looked to him at every crisis, were any better off than those out on the street?

  The supply bus grumbled and rolled forward. Shane glanced down at Kelly. She returned a blank expression. Evidently, his answer to Steve wasn’t so horrible, or she’d just go along with anything he said at this point.

  “It doesn’t look good down there,” Steve’s weary voice reported over the radio.

  Steve steered his bus across to the right side of the road to get around a car flipped over onto its roof, and Shane could see what he was talking about. The bridge towered above the trees, allowing a clear view of the suburbs and city they drove toward. His thread of hope that Atlanta was unscathed vanished. Hundreds of bent columns of thick, black smoke climbed into the green clouds from every part of the city. Atlanta loomed ominous and crippled—a battlefield littered with destruction and rot, where in all likelihood the dead far outnumbered the living. It looked like Sherman had risen from his grave and marched through the grand old city once again, intent on burning everything to the ground.

  “It’s a war zone,” Aaron’s stunned voice came from the CB radio. Driving the passenger bus behind Shane, he hadn’t spoken since Matt’s injury.

  “At least we don’t have to drive far in,” Tracy said. “The military base is just ahead.”

  A loud boom came from the south.

  “I bet that’s the army there,” Tracy said, leaning over the front seat in excited anticipation and squinting her eyes as she looked through the windshield. “That’s probably them fighting back.”

  “At least I don’t see any animals around,” Kelly commented. “Maybe they’re winning.”

  At the lower end of the bridge, they drove past the kids Steve reported seeing from the top. The long line of boys and girls looked fresh from a holocaust, their faces and clothes grimy and covered in soot. Clean tracks striped their blackened cheeks from the constant flow of tears. Their heads hung solemn and low, most not seeming to notice the buses creeping by. A tall, skinny boy raised his gaze and contemplated Shane through the bus’ windshield. A massive, black bruise surrounded his eye and a trail of dried blood ran down his chin from a busted lip. The kid shook his head, as if to tell Shane to turn back, that they were going the wrong way.

  “Why are they walking away from the city?” Shane asked no one in particular.

  “They don’t look like they’re intentionally heading in any direction at all,” Tracy answered. “I think they’re just wandering.”

  Shane wasn’t convinced. The line of kids resembled refugees he’d seen on the news, fleeing war-torn areas so far from Georgia that they never seemed real. His instincts screamed for him to turn the bus around and get as far away from Atlanta as possible.

  “What if things are worse down here?” Kelly expressed his concern. “What if we run into more boys like those at the gym?”

  “We got weapons,” Tracy dismissed, seeming annoyed by Shane and Kelly’s questions. She grabbed the CB radio handset and raised it to her mouth, “Take the next left, Steve.”

  The buses rolled past concrete barricades and signs warning they approached the entrance to the military base. Hope surged in Shane. Soon they’d be safe, protected by the military. Soon these kids would be out of his charge and someone else could worry about them.

  “That’s odd,” Tracy said under her breath, her confidence faltering for the first time. “There should be a gate guard.”

  The red-and-white striped gate was in the vertical position, open and allowing them to enter the base. Not a living soul was in sight. Driving past, Shane peered into the guardhouse, fearing he’d see a soldier dead inside, ripped to shreds by animals or insects. It was empty. Another boom echoed across the runway in front of them loud enough to rattle the windows on the bus. Shane worried they might get hit by a stray mortar, but they’d come this far, and the sounds of fighting promised at least a few adults still lived.

  Steve pulled his bus into a small lot beyond the gate, and Shane followed. Once they parked, Steve, Aaron, Shane, and Kelly climbed out and looked in the direction from which the boom came. Shane noticed the others carried their crossbows and compound bows out of the buses with them, and then realized he had his weapon in hand as well. He’d grabbed it automatically, without even thinking about it, and he reckoned he’d feel naked without it. How dramatically changed he was from the guy who woke up yesterday morning, who was nervous around guns and couldn’t stand the idea of shooting anything.

  “Something’s going on beyond those trees,” Aaron said, pointing at a thick grove of pines growing alongside the runway.

  “Obviously,” Tracy replied, condescending.

  The distant rat-tat of gunfire came from the same direction.

  “This area is certainly deserted,” Steve said, using the scope of a crossbow to scan the base.

  “Let’s move the buses over to that hangar.” Tracy pointed at a green, metal building a quarter of a mile down the road leading past the end of a runway. “It seems quiet enough. Then a few of us can sneak through those woods and see what all the noise is about.”

  “Or we could just load up and get out of here,” Kelly suggested, stepping closer to Shane. “I’m not so sure we’re any safer here than in Leeville.”

  “We didn’t come all this way to leave without any answers, did we?” Tracy glanced from Kelly to Steve and Aaron, and then stopped with her stern and inquisitive eyes on Shane.

  “Let’s check it out,” Shane agreed, deflated by the idea he was not to be relieved of his involuntary command any time soon.

  He glanced at Kelly, hoping he hadn’t offended her by siding with Tracy. She looked at him with trusting eyes, and gave a slight nod. For some reason, though he didn’t particularly like it, they’d made him the leader. That being the case, he decided he’d do whatever it took to keep them from looking like the beaten-down kids they’d passed crossing the bridge.

  “Maybe we can find more supplies here,” Aaron said, walking toward his bus. “Maybe even some guns.”

  “Yeah, I’d feel a whole lot better with an M-16 instead of this dumb crossbow,” Tracy said, slinging the weapon over her shoulder.

  They climbed into their buses and drove down the road to the massive hangar at the other side of the runway. Tracy jumped out as soon as Shane brought his bus to a stop. With her crossbow aimed and ready, she slipped through a small, metal door hanging open before Shane had a chance to stop her. He respected her bravery but wanted to send Steve and Aaron in with her in case she ran into trouble. Moments later, the large hangar doors opened wide enough for the buses to drive inside, and Tracy stepped out and waved for them to enter. Shane drove his bus in behind Steve’s. Inside the cavernous, metal building, the diesels’ grumbles were amplified to a roar.

  After killing his engine and setting the brake, Shane climbed out. Aaron and Steve shut down the other two buses, and they swept through the hangar ghostly quiet. It felt like they trespassed in a massive tomb.

  “Anyone a
live in here?” he asked, scanning the hangar. Translucent panels in the metal roof let daylight filter in, illuminating three fighter jets and an attack helicopter.

  “Afraid not,” Tracy replied.

  “Do me a favor,” he said, giving her his sternest look.

  “Yeah?” Tracy spun on her heel and studied him with her stoic, gray eyes.

  “Don’t take off and run into any more buildings by yourself like that,” he replied, trying to convey he didn’t want to argue the point. “I know you’re a badass, but we can’t afford to lose you.”

  Tracy stared at him, as if formulating a retaliation. To Shane’s surprise, she gave a slight grin and turned to investigate the hangar.

  “Would you look at these babies?” Steve walked toward one of the fighter jets with wide eyes.

  “It’s odd that they’re in here,” Tracy said, sounding unimpressed. “Seems like they should be out, flying around and trying to protect people from the animals.”

  “Maybe the animals attacked the base, and the soldiers didn’t have a chance to do anything but try and defend themselves,” Shane replied, walking over by Steve and looking up at the fighter jet. On any other occasion, he would have been in awe of the vicious plane. But now, he was too worn out and depressed by all the death he’d seen to care.

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Aaron announced. “We have to sneak over and see what they’re shooting at.”

  “I’ll take that as you volunteering,” Tracy said, climbing onto Shane’s bus and coming out with an extra quiver of bolts for her crossbow.

  “Everyone else should stay here and protect the kids.” She pointed at the buses. “We don’t want to leave them alone again after what happened at the gym.”

  “We have weapons now. What happened at the gym will never happen again,” Laura said, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. She sat down on the bottom step of the bus and pulled her black hair into a ponytail. “What about Matt?”

  “What about him?” Tracy replied nonchalantly. “I’ve done all I can—if he lives, he lives, and if not, that’s just the reality of the shit we’re in. Isn’t it?”

  Laura’s jaw went slack, as if Tracy had slapped her across the face.

  “Come on, Aaron,” Tracy ordered. Not looking at Laura or giving her a chance to respond, she marched out of the hangar with her crossbow over her shoulder.

  Aaron glanced from Laura to Shane, blinking from the shock of the harshness of Tracy’s words. Shane nodded toward the door, too tired to worry about anybody’s feelings getting hurt. He reckoned Tracy was more tore up inside than was obvious, that her tough girl act was a defense mechanism. Aaron shook his head with disbelief, like he’d never heard anyone act so rude. But then, without another word, he turned and trotted out onto the tarmac behind Tracy.