by Tufo, Mark
As always, Deneaux was running circles around me and already had plans in place to take me off the playing field.
11
Mike Journal Entry 9
I told Tracy I had some bullshit errand to run; yeah, just earlier this day I’d told her I wanted her help. I don’t consider this reneging on that deal. I was still on a fact-finding mission. And how do you think it would go if I told her I was going to meet a woman on top of a building? I left a couple of hours early; if we were indeed being followed, I didn’t want to garner any suspicion. I stopped over at Kirby’s, knowing he’d have what I needed and maybe throw the mysterious Others off my trail.
“Lieutenant,” he said as he answered the door in his boxers and nothing else.
“Got any beer?” I asked as I walked in past him.
“Yeah, sure. Come on in, sir.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” I told him from the living room.
“I’ve got some Red Beer.”
“All the beer you can get your hands on and you drink that shit?”
“Nobody else will touch it; means I’ll always have some on hand,” he replied.
“One way of looking at it.”
“Grimm has some Bud Light.”
I wanted to palm my face. “When you two get a little older, you’ll realize the value of drinking quality beer.”
“Beer is beer.”
“So much to learn, Grasshopper. Just give me the Bud Light.”
“Grasshopper?”
“Old show.”
“Must be.” He went to the kitchen and grabbed a six pack of cans.
“Any bottles?”
“Why?” he asked, handing them over.
“It’s tough finding good squadmates these days.”
“Can you go now?”
I realized what was going on. “Hey, Rose!” I yelled.
I heard a muffled “Oh shit” from the other room. “Hello, sir,” she responded without coming out.
“Don’t piss her off,” I told Kirby. “What’ll happen to your insides will be a lot worse than what that donkey piss you’re so willing to ingest will do.”
He was gently pushing me toward the door.
“Hey…this is warm—” I told him from the front stoop. He closed the door in my face.
“Bye, sir,” he said loudly through the barrier.
“You’re on point indefinitely,” I told him before I left.
I made a circuitous route to the hospital then found an alley to ditch into. I waited there for a few minutes, checking to see if I did indeed have a tail. All of this was for naught if my spy was in the sky, but I had to think someone would notice if that asset was trained on me continuously. Was up on the roof a good forty-five minutes early. Not sure what it is about beers on a roof, but they go hand in hand.
I was halfway through the six pack when Major Dylan came through the access door. She had a hood on, and, without looking around, she went right for a large air conditioning unit that was raised on what I hoped were four, sturdy steel legs. Safe to say she knew about the satellite. I joined her as she sat in a chair.
“Hello, Major.”
She reached out for a beer, which I handed over. “They’re warm.”
“This is what happens when you pilfer from your squad.”
She took a large swig, then kept going until the can was emptied before she spoke. “Springer is a zombie.”
“Thought so. Bennington told me he was dead.”
“Technically speaking, he is.”
“Slight difference. And I don’t like the hairs he’s splitting”
“Can I have another?”
I was reluctant to give up a beer that, previously, I’d been unwilling to drink. Weird how that happens. I handed another one over. This one she drank at a much slower pace.
“They have him confined next to Dewey.”
The warm beer began its agitation in my stomach. I could feel it bubbling and fomenting, like a witches cauldron full of all sorts of wonderfulness, eye of newt, bat wings, cherries.
“He’s still in there,” the distress she felt was coming out in her voice. “Dear Jesus!” her head sagged. “The eyes! You can see it in his eyes. You’ve got to kill him; put him out of his misery.”
I knew that. How, was the question. No doubt he was monitored twenty-four seven and had armed guards stationed around him.
“Is he giving any intel?”
She glared up at me. “Does it matter?”
“Not really.”
“Sorry.” She eased up. “He’s in there, right? But he’s not in control. They can’t get him to communicate.”
I walked a small circle, ran a hand through my hair, and drank some more.
“Do you trust Master Sergeant Wassau?” I asked, not knowing what else to say.
“With my life,” was her response.
That was all I needed to know in that regard.
“Major, I don’t know how, but I will get to Springer, and I’ll do what needs to be done. You, in the meantime, need to get me more information on where he is and what kind of resistance I’ll be looking at.”
“I can do that. I came home from my shift the other day. Bruno was outside. Not a big deal by itself, but his doggy door was locked. Someone had come into my home and locked him out so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Nothing was taken.”
“Definitely bugged, which means they’ll be hitting my place next.”
“I suspected as much. But why?”
“Because someone has linked us two. I’m sorry for that.”
“I’m not. I can take care of myself,” she said defiantly.
“I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t.”
“Sorry, I’m just on edge. It’s scary, really, when you begin to see the gloss fade from the illusion you’ve built. Things are happening around us, things that…they don’t make sense.”
I wanted to hug her, tell her things would be okay, but I didn’t know if she’d appreciate the gesture, and I’d be kidding both of us if I actually thought that.
This entire base was precariously balanced. It wouldn’t take much to plunge it into chaos, and emerging from the tumultuous pile would be Deneaux, pronouncing herself as the lord and savior. What was the fucking appeal? Why was ruling over others such a coveted position? Seemed that was more lusted than even money, which was apparently the root of all evil, so what did that make power, if it could trump that? Evil incarnate?
“You still with me?” she asked.
“Sorry, went on a detour.”
We split the final beer, and by split, I mean I took the first sip and she killed the remainder. We talked about what needed to be done. On the roof, hidden from outside observers and steeled with a dose of liquid courage, it seemed plausible. But as I walked home and a cool breeze blew past me, I realized the folly, the risk, and the thousand things that could go wrong before it was all accomplished.
12
Mike Journal Entry 10
“Dad, they won’t let me see her!” Justin had burst into my room. Wasn’t entirely sure of the time, though I noted a last bit of sun sneaking through the window in an attempt to let me know it was still there. Must be getting older; these mid-afternoon naps were becoming more and more frequent. My body was sore and my mind was reeling from all that was going on. This was one of those times I was happy I’d worn shorts to bed; not always the case, as sometimes I couldn’t be bothered looking for clothes after exiting the shower. The moment the door flew open, I was on the move; I pulled a Ka-Bar off of my nightstand and was in a fighting position. It was a couple of seconds later, my surroundings, the intruder, and the absence of danger began to situate themselves in my head.
“What?” I still had the knife in my hand and had not yet relaxed, my heart beating hard, getting juice to all the parts that were up and braced to defend myself.
“Avalyn, they won’t let me see her.” He’d wisely backed away from the bedroom door.
When we’d come
on to the base, we’d all been probed and questioned until we were blue in the face. Blood was drawn and tests done. If they ever noticed anything about Tommy and me, it was never revealed. Justin had pleaded his case that the baby should remain with him. I was of the ilk that we’d saved her, so we should be responsible for her well-being. I don’t think that was something Tracy and I agreed on. What she’d voiced or not voiced in her interview, I don’t know. The baby stayed with us, but it was getting more and more difficult to pretend she wasn’t different, and I noticed that the medical staff on base wanted to see her more and more often. Initially, they’d said it was for routine examinations, but they weren’t checking on Wesley that frequently, so that was a crock of shit. But we were so busy acclimating and training and finding our roles in this new world, I didn’t pay much attention to it.
Then the day came where Bennington, five MPs, and two medical staff showed up at our door. Thought it was for me; I’d been contemplating what I would do when and if this day came, so when they asked to see Avalyn, I was at first confused. The little girl had been running around the house, screaming like a banshee; Henry had been chasing her, doing his best to get a bite of the cheese sandwich she was eating. Age-wise, she wasn’t more than a toddler; size-wise, she was closer to pre-school. And smarts…well, I think whatever chart they were using she would have been off of it. She was growing at an alarming rate, but she was still a little girl; she laughed, cried, pouted, stomped her feet, and enjoyed her family like any kid.
“Michael,” the colonel had said.
“Sir.” I’d yet to open the door far enough to let them in, although Avalyn was peering around my legs to look out.
“Her blood. There’s something unique about it.”
“Okay,” was all I was willing to give.
“We’d like to conduct some more tests.”
“Pretty big show of force, sir. Expecting trouble?” I asked.
“That would be up to you.”
“Maybe you should just tell me what’s going on, and we’ll go from there, sir.”
“Mike?” Tracy had walked into the living room.
“Hon, could you grab Avalyn? I think it’s time for her nap,” I said this without looking back, afraid I might get rushed if I turned away. I could see Avalyn; she had looked up at me. She was smart enough to know this wasn’t her nap-time, and even smarter to know not to question me on it.
“Colonel,” Tracy said as she came to the door. “Come on sweetie, let’s get some PJs on.”
“I don’t think a nap will be necessary,” Bennington said.
“Oh, you have no idea how cranky she can get without her naps,” I said.
“Let me know when you’re going to cut the bullshit, Lieutenant.”
“I could say the same…sir.” There was a good long pause there, though I’m not sure if I’d tempered my insolence much by adding the last word.
“We need the girl.”
“Avalyn. Her name is Avalyn.
“We’re not the Gestapo, Talbot.”
“Yet here you are, sun’s down, backed by force, attempting to take someone from their home. Sounds very Gestapo-like to me.”
“As I said, we need to run some tests. Two or three days at the most. She will be treated like a VIP at an upscale hotel.”
“Can’t remember the last time the Marriott needed an armed escort for their guests.”
Two cars came barreling down the roadway; I figured it was reinforcements for the Colonel. BT, Tommy, Gary, Stenzel, and the rest of my squad showed up.
“Hey, man! We in time for the barbecue?” BT said as he shouldered past one of the MPs. Tracy must have called in the troops. Not sure if it was for Avalyn’s safety or my own. I know she had doubts about the girl, concerns, even, but the more we’d been around her, the more we’d seen the light in her eyes and the way she interacted with everyone…it was impossible not to grow attached to her.
“You always bring weapons to a barbecue?” Bennington asked.
“You never know what to expect when you come over here, Colonel,” BT said as he turned and stood next to me. The rest of my squad fanned out behind the colonel’s men. This was a dangerous game we were playing. Sedition, bordering on treason.
“Lieutenant, is this a wise course of action?” Bennington asked.
“Eating grilled food, sir? I’d say that’s one of the wisest things you can do. I’d love to invite you all in, but I only have enough for my squad. This is a small way for me to thank them for a job well done.”
“Just like your food,” BT said.
“Really, man? Right now?”
“You’re going to serve them up, I’m going to hit them. It’s as simple as that.”
I shrugged and pooched my bottom lip out. “Makes sense.”
“One call, Lieutenant, I can have a hundred more military personnel here,” Bennington warned.
“They’re going to have to bring their own food, sir,” I told him.
“Lieutenant!” His patience was at an end.
“Is this really the road you want to go down? A war in the streets?”
“It’ll be far from a war, Lieutenant.”
“Is that what you think, sir? How many raiders do you think would fall on your side of the line?” I wasn’t happy I’d said that. I’d just let him in on a very important fact that I’d been keeping to myself. The raiders were a force unto themselves. As a group, we did not generally play well with others; therefore, we’d only hung around with our own. Obviously, there were tighter circles within each group, but they expanded outward to the groups most like theirs and their immediate family. After that, not so much. If push came to shove, I could make this base mine, though that was the furthest thought from my mind. I couldn’t control a room full of dogs; why would I want anything to do with governing people? They were far more unruly and weren’t easily swayed by food. But now that I’d let Bennington know there was a true and solid threat to his command, how would he react? There were many things he could do, make sure the majority of us were out at all times, that the missions became more difficult and we were removed by attrition, or even fold us back into his regular military—or hell, in my case maybe just a brick wall, a blindfold, and five soldiers with rifles.
Bennington now took the time to turn around and look at the set of the people watching him, the people who took their orders from him. They were part of circles, too, and ultimately, we were the ones responsible for each other’s lives. That counted for more.
“Perhaps it was in poor judgment to bring a show of force,” he said. It was tough to say whether he was swallowing back some pride or was genuine. “Captain Marshall, please get your men and report in for your scheduled shifts.”
The captain saluted, but before leaving, he left me with a little something. “Be seeing you around, Lieutenant.”
“Doubtful. I always make sure to leave your house before you come home. Tell Denise I said hi,” I told him.
BT snorted. “Sorry. Must have breathed in some of that pepper Talbot uses to disguise how bad he butchers his cooking.”
Captain Marshall turned beet red but said nothing else as he and his men left. I bet he came up with a hell of a retort later that night, but the moment had passed. Not like he could come back and deliver it.
“Can we talk now?” Bennington asked.
“BT, can you get the grill going? I’ll be in soon. Got some venison steaks in the fridge.”
“Fantastic. I don’t know how many more burnt quinoa and cauliflower waffles I can take.”
I threw up a little in my mouth; I was never really a big waffle fan when they were made the normal way, but that sounded like some sort of torture device from a third world country. When had my sister become a pseudo-dictator? I nodded to the rest of the group to follow BT in.
Tracy was in the middle of the living room, watching me. I gave her a nod that things were mostly okay, although I could be completely wrong about that. Wouldn’t be the first time
. I shut the door behind me. It was just the colonel and myself on the porch and two lab techs a few steps away.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion, Lieutenant, and now regret my decision to bring the MPs. I don’t know why I sometimes forget your disdain for authority figures.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sir. I don’t necessarily have a problem with authority; I understand the need for it. It is when authority is imposed and unjustified that I begin to question it.”
“Duly noted. The girl.”
“Avalyn.”
“Pardons, Avalyn. Her blood, it contains anomalies, anomalies I’m told could be very beneficial.”
“She’s a little girl, Colonel. I know you were told how she came into this world and that she’s…” I didn’t know the right word. “Different,” was the best I could come up with. “But I’m not going to let her be a science experiment.”
“She’ll be nothing of the sort. The doctors want her for a few days to run tests, do an MRI, some CAT scans, and besides a few blood draws, some very non-invasive procedures, including some psych evals. We need to ensure all of this is done without outside influence.”
“It’s not my decision alone to make. Avalyn gets a say, as does the rest of my family.”
“The child? She’s too young to make an informed choice.”
“Not that it is exceedingly difficult to achieve, but that kid is smarter than I am. She gets a say. I’ll bring this to the family, and I’ll need a better definition of what a ‘few days’ means.”
“More than two, less than seven,” one of the techs stepped up and replied. “Sir,” the tech said, “I have two kids at home. I will make sure I treat her as if she were one of my own,” he promised.
“You going to stay for the entire seven days?” I asked.
