The Expedition

by Chris Babu

  Eugene stood up halfway, inspecting the camp. “Wait. Is that…what is that? Is it a body?”

  A person appeared to be lying atop the hill, sprawled out. Their angle made it difficult to tell for sure.

  Someone wailed in the village, her sobs reverberating through the woods.

  Eugene raised his rifle. “Let’s go. Stay tight together. Weapons ready.” He advanced, looking through his rifle’s sight, his finger on the trigger.

  Catrice followed him closely, remaining unarmed. Sidney glared at her before following, trailed by Drayden and Charlie.

  Drayden’s breathing became labored and shallow. Vivid memories from the last camp flashed through his mind, the terror fresh. A chill ran down his spine when they reached the top of the hill.

  The man on the ground was dead, with a bullet wound to the chest. A fresh one, oozing bright red blood.

  “Sweet mercy,” Charlie said, digesting the scene down the hill.

  Bodies were scattered everywhere, probably fifteen or twenty.

  Drayden’s heart broke. It was a massacre.

  “My God,” Sidney said.

  Eugene eased down the hill, his rifle raised, scanning the area.

  The dead were all men, and they’d been shot.

  “I think we know who did this,” he said.

  Sidney scoffed. “The Guardians.”

  “Freaking animals,” Drayden said. How could they? And why? These men were unarmed. The Guardians didn’t care about the villager’s lives; they were simply an obstacle to acquiring food, so the Guardians had slaughtered them. It was such a despicable and unnecessary waste of life. Supremely selfish, unbearably arrogant.

  The amount of barbarity displayed on this journey was enough to last a lifetime. A battle raged in the real world between brutality and humaneness. Brutality seemed to be winning.

  But it wasn’t exclusive to the real world, because it was happening in New America too. The Bureau didn’t respect life. More specifically, they didn’t respect certain lives. Some were more important to them. The Bureau was wrong. Life’s value couldn’t be measured solely by one’s contribution to society. Life, to be alive, was a magical thing, and the idea you could rank it by skill was ludicrous. The Bureau was playing God, as the Guardians had in this camp.

  Movement inside one of the shanties grabbed their attention.

  “Three o’clock.” Eugene whipped his rifle to the right.

  Everyone trained guns on the hut. Inside, scared teary faces of women and children peeked out through a window with no glass. The whole village seemed crammed into one shack.

  Drayden holstered his pistol and raised his hands in the air as he approached the window. “We mean no harm; we’re friendly. Please, don’t be frightened.”

  People inside the hut shrieked and cried. They scooped up their children and cowered on the far side of the room.

  “Please, it’s okay. We’re here to help,” Drayden pleaded.

  A little girl dashed outside the shanty, coming right up to him with a big smile.

  He knelt, smiling back. He extended his hand, and she shook it. “Hi, my name’s Drayden. What’s yours?”

  She swayed back and forth. “Susie.”

  “How old are you, Susie?”

  “I’m six.”

  “Susie, can you tel—”

  “How old are you?”

  “Oh. I’m sixteen.”

  A haggard woman with frizzy hair and dark circles under her eyes barreled out of the hut. “Susie! Susie, no! Get away from them!” She scooped the little girl up and squeezed her tight.

  “Mommy, this is Brayden, he’s sixteen.”

  Drayden raised both hands in the air, noting that a mother was thinking of her child’s safety before her own, as she was supposed to. “Please, wait! We’re friendly. We’re not like the men who did this.”

  The woman blew a strand of hair away from her face, but she stayed. “They was dressed like y’all.”

  Susie pointed at Catrice and Sidney. “They didn’t have pretty girls with them.”

  Catrice was blank, vacant. Sidney made an “aww” face. “Bless your heart, sweetie. You’re a very pretty girl. You remind me of my little sister.”

  “We know who they are,” Drayden said. “We’re chasing them. We’re trying to stop them. Can you help us?”

  She wept. “We’re peaceful people. Why would they do this?”

  “They’re bad men. I’m sorry,” he said. “We want to make them pay. Unfortunately, we need food. We haven’t eaten in days.”

  “They wanted food too. When we said we didn’t have none to spare, they started killin.’ Then they went house to house and took whatever we had.”

  Drayden’s heart sank. He felt awful thinking and asking about food when they’d suffered such a horrific loss. It was selfish and insensitive.

  Susie’s mother wiped her tears. “Our men was brave. None of them told where most of the food was.”

  Although Drayden hated to ask, they were starving. “I’m so sorry for what happened here, ma’am. But do you have some you could spare? We don’t need much.”

  She grew indignant. “My husband just died protecting that food. And you want me to give it to you?”

  “Ma’am, again, I’m sorry. If we don’t catch them, they’ll get away with this. Your husband’s death will never be avenged. We haven’t eaten in days. We cannot catch these guys without eating something. Anything, no matter how little, we’d take it.”

  Susie jumped out of her mother’s arms. “Can I show them, Mommy?”

  The woman scanned the privates’ faces. “As long as y’all promise to get revenge for what they done.”

  “We will, ma’am,” Sidney promised.

  “Go, Susie.”

  Susie practically tumbled down the hill and everyone chased after her, including her mother. Susie stopped in front of a pile of leaves.

  Charlie scratched his head. “Um, thanks, but no thanks? I ate leaves yesterday, so…”

  “Charlie,” Drayden said.

  “Push them leaves off to the side,” Susie’s mother said.

  Eugene scattered the leaves with his rifle, revealing two wooden doors built into the ground.

  The group collectively gasped when he hoisted them open. The underground bunker held dozens of loaves of bread, some moldy; many heads of lettuce; and what appeared to be meats covered in salt.

  Susie’s mother knelt, pulling out two loaves of bread, two heads of lettuce, and five tubes of meat shaped like miniature baseball bats. She stuffed the lettuce and bread in a plastic bag from the bunker and handed it to Sidney, and gave the tubed meat to Charlie.

  He sniffed them. “What are these?”

  Susie’s mother looked confused, pausing before answering. “Sausages. It’s pork. We keep pigs, goats, and chickens down the woods a bit.”

  “Do we have to cook it?” Charlie asked.

  She scratched her neck. “Where are y’all from? It’s cured and dried. You can eat it straight away.”

  “Thank you,” Drayden said. “Thank you so much. I wish we had something to give you in return. All I can offer is that we’re going to catch the guys who did this to your village.”

  Eugene stepped forward. “Ma’am, how recently did those men come through here?”

  “Bout twenty minutes.”

  “Twenty minutes?” Drayden echoed. “Jeez, they were so close to us.”

  “They could be close to us right now,” Sidney said.

  The privates rotated around, surveying the woods.

  “Wait.” Drayden rubbed his chin. “We didn’t hear any gunshots.”

  “Their guns didn’t make any sound,” Susie’s mother said.

  “Silencers,” Eugene said. “They all have them. They probably didn’t want us to hear
the shots. It’s possible they knew how close we were.”

  “Do you know if there are people in Boston?” Sidney asked Susie’s mother.

  “Don’t know. Those evil men wanted to know too.” She eyed the top of the hill. “They grabbed ol’ Hal, asked him to make sure they were going the right way. He showed them. Then they shot him dead.”

  Drayden checked his map as they hiked off the side of Route 3. They were roughly half an hour behind the Guardians, which at a pace of three miles-per-hour, translated to a mere mile and a half. They needed to find a way to leapfrog ahead of the Guardians that didn’t involve walking right past them. It would be impossible on the same road.

  Where in the world were they? Few landmarks existed. Drayden guessed they were around Weymouth, Massachusetts, barely fifteen miles from Boston’s outskirts. It was most likely early afternoon, based on the position of the sun. Route 53 ran parallel to Route 3, a short distance away.

  “Ohhhh,” Charlie grunted. “This is sooooo good.” He chomped at the sausage.

  The group had shared one loaf of bread and one head of lettuce. Now they savored their sausages as they walked. Everyone agreed they should eat half and save the rest.

  Drayden bit into the salty, chewy, spicy meat. It was unlike anything he’d ever eaten, and tasted vastly different than the chicken he’d first experienced a few days prior. It was delicious. Although his Aeru symptoms had continued to worsen, he had energy and a clear mind after eating. He’d put his hat back on as well. Despite his growing anger at his mother, he needed her strength.

  “Guys,” Drayden said, “I think we should switch over to this Route 53. It runs parallel to Route 3. It’s the only way we can pass the Guardians without accidentally running into them.”

  Charlie spoke with his mouth full of sausage. “Is it faster?”

  “No. Technically it’s a little longer.”

  “So, we’ll fall further behind,” Sidney pointed out.

  “Yes,” Drayden said.

  “We won’t catch the Guardians at the rate we’re going,” Catrice said, speaking for the first time since their rescue.

  Drayden couldn’t help but notice she seemed like herself again after eating, as if she’d emerged from a coma. She no longer clung to Eugene, and didn’t even walk beside him. If Drayden were Eugene, he would slow down a bit to walk next to her. Eugene continued to prove himself different from Drayden in every way, though. He didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t walking with him anymore.

  “What do you suggest?” Drayden asked her.

  She picked at her fingernails. “I don’t know. I’m just saying, what we’re doing right now…we’ll lose. We need to run, or find bikes, or if lucky, a working car.”

  “Can I drive?” Charlie asked.

  “I think Eugene should drive since he already knows how,” Sidney said. “You’d probably drive us off a cliff.”

  “I’m pretty sure we’re not finding a car,” Drayden said.

  After discovering the massacre, Drayden was convinced they needed to beat the Guardians to Boston, as Eugene had been saying all along. The Guardians had shown how far they were willing to go to win.

  If the Guardians beat them to Boston, one of two things would happen. They could ambush and kill the privates and Eugene as they arrived. An infinite number of places existed for them to hide. The privates wouldn’t see it coming even if they knew it was coming. Or they could enter Boston and tell any number of lies about why the privates should be turned away. Either way, the privates would be screwed. If the privates and Eugene arrived first, those options would be theirs, among others.

  The group approached a ramp off the highway, and the faded green sign beside it was still standing.

  “Let’s take this exit.” Drayden refolded the map as he walked. “Derby Street. We go about a mile, then head north up Fifty-Three.”

  The condition of Derby Street was much worse than Route 3. It too was wide, like a highway, but seriously overgrown. After fifteen minutes, they reached the intersection with Route 53. It featured buildings on each corner, three of which had been reduced to piles of rubble. The one standing was a brown house with a flat roof and smashed glass walls. The sign read “Dunkin’ Donuts.”

  They turned left, heading north. A narrower road, Route 53 was clearer, mostly covered in grasses and shrubs.

  “Those friends of yours are some pretty evil dudes, Euge,” Charlie said.

  Eugene tilted his head from side to side. “Yes and no.”

  “Um, yes and yes.” Charlie held up his index finger. “One more thing. Yes.”

  “I agree what they did was brutal, but it wasn’t illogical. They asked for food first. When the villagers declined, the Guardians had two choices. Leave, or do what they did. They needed food, so they couldn’t leave.”

  Those were hardly their only two choices. Killing every man in the village? Killing the man who gave them directions after they’d secured the food they needed? Just a tad extreme. Since Eugene had been a Guardian from the age of eight, the Guardian mindset had been drilled into him. He didn’t perceive the fault with that argument. It was so black and white, so devoid of nuance. Life wasn’t black and white, but shades of gray.

  Drayden’s way wasn’t the wrong way after all. Eugene’s and the Guardians’ was. They weren’t tough; they were monsters. Drayden wasn’t soft; he was kind. They weren’t strong and he wasn’t weak. His strengths weren’t physical; they were of the mind and heart. And he was going to show all of them how strong he was. He was going to unleash the strongest Drayden ever to win this battle. He wouldn’t accept defeat at the hands of the Guardians, the Bureau, Eli Holst, or Nathan Locke. He would find a way to beat his enemies using his greatest weapon—his mind.

  The second he completed that thought, he nearly coughed up a lung. His deteriorating health was the main risk to his grand plan. He couldn’t die before they reached Boston, or become so weak he couldn’t follow through.

  Sidney sidled up to him, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m worried about you. What can I do to help?”

  “Thanks, Sid. If you want to help, you should probably keep your distance. I don’t want to make you sick. We need you.”

  She wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked. “I don’t care. I don’t care if I get sick. If I do, we’ll be sick together. We need you. I need you. I’ll take the risk to make sure you’re okay.”

  Drayden gazed into her kind brown eyes. He loved Sidney in that moment. Everything with her was so painless. No drama, no games. She was the one person who always defended him, whose belief in him never wavered. Sidney tended to him. The only one who’d ever cared for him that much in such a way was his mother. Before she got herself exiled anyway.

  He touched his hat and felt warm inside. He wrapped his arm around Sidney’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, Sid.”

  Catrice gawked at them, her face twisted in disgust.

  Drayden frowned. What’s she getting miffed about?

  She’d made her choice, and silently announced it to the world. He did feel the need to check on her, as he often did, to ensure she was all right. She was devastated by the capture and rescue at the camp. Something about the experience had hurt her more deeply than the others. But he didn’t feel like he could or should be the one to approach her and inquire. Her rejection of him had been so public, so humiliating, so awkward. He couldn’t embarrass himself further by chasing after her once again. If she wished, she could come up to him. Did she? No. Drayden squeezed Sidney even tighter.

  Her satisfaction was evident.

  Eugene stopped to examine a house on the right.

  The dwelling was in top-notch shape—PreCon condition—and smoke rose from the chimney. An expansive field of crops stretched out behind the house, along with a barn, a windmill, and several other sheds. Farm equipment dotted the field.


  “Whoever lives here has their act together,” Eugene said. “We haven’t seen anything like this yet.”

  Charlie pretended to knock on a door. “Pardon me, sir, would you happen to have five working bikes we could have forever? Yeah, and one of them needs to be an eight-year-old girl’s bike, please. In return, we can give you nothing.”

  Eugene chewed on his lower lip. “They probably don’t have bikes, but if they did, where would they keep them?”

  Sidney looked at Drayden. In unison, they answered. “The barn.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Whoever lived at the house must have been home, based on the chimney smoke, so Eugene led the privates through the woods past the property, emerging near the back side of the barn. He peered through his rifle’s sight to assess the scene.

  “We’re clear. It’s only about forty feet to the back of the barn. We sneak in, check for anything useful, and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  They were in a life or death situation here. If they didn’t slip ahead of the Guardians, they were dead, one way or another. Charlie had highlighted the absurdity of asking the residents for assistance. Still, if the barn contained anything helpful, they were going to steal it. It felt wrong.

  “Go.” Eugene bolted, leading the way.

  They reached the oversized barn door in seconds. Eugene slid it to the side, leaving it open.

  Although Drayden had never seen a barn, it was pretty much what he expected: ancient wood beams, hay in a loft, rusty farm equipment, even a pitchfork. A beat-up tan car missing wheels rested atop cinderblocks in the barn’s center.

  They scoured the space, and failing to find bikes, regrouped at the car. According to the writing on the back, it was a Jaguar. Besides missing tires, it was rusty, dusty, and clearly hadn’t run in ages. Wires jutted out from the dashboard.

  Charlie kicked the bumper. “Damn. Hey, at least it doesn’t have flat tires.”

  “So much for a lucky break.” Sidney lowered her eyes.

  Catrice chewed on her nails.

  Drayden felt a rush of anxiety. They were going to lose. He sensed the others coming to the same realization. There just wasn’t enough time to find some other solution, to continue searching for bikes or a working car. Unlike in the Initiation, they didn’t have the vitality to run, surely not fifteen miles. The food had recharged the batteries enough to prevent a spontaneous coma, not to complete a half marathon. With Drayden’s lungs full of mucus from the infection, he couldn’t run much at all.