365 Days At War

by Nancy Isaak

  “Nah,” said Cherry. “It’s just a little boo-boo. I’m fine.” She ran her finger over Wester’s hair. “Looks like it’s time to start your dreads again, little bro.”

  Wester jumped up and down in excitement. “I’ve been collecting shells.”

  “All right,” nodded Cherry. “You’ll be making little clicks as you walk…cool.”

  “I want shells in my hair, too!” insisted Shawnee.

  Cherry grabbed her younger siblings—one under each arm. “No prob, kiddos. ‘Big Sis Hairdressing’ is open for business.”

  Sophia made her way forward then, looking embarrassed, not able to look Cherry in the eye. “Um…Cherry?”

  “What is it, Soph?” While not exactly welcoming, Cherry remained polite.

  “Um…I know I don’t really have the right to ask you…”

  Cherry shook her head. “Sorry, Sophia…I didn’t see Reena anywhere.”

  “Oh, uh…okay.” And Sophia turned and fled—her head lowered with grief and humiliation.

  Meanwhile—across the hall—Xavier was jumping up and down with excitement as he showed his older brother Kanga’s new halter. “He walks like a dog, Nate! He goes everywhere with me—except when I’m with the Raiders, of course. Then, Lance watches him.”

  “Looks like you’ve made a best friend,” Nate said, happy. “I’m glad I brought him home for you.”

  “So,” said Xavier, coyly, “did you maybe bring me something else this trip?”

  “Sheesh,” complained Nate. “Mom is right. You never stop asking, do you?”

  “It’s okay,” Xavier quickly told his brother. “I was just kidding. You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

  Nate reached out and mussed up Xavier’s hair. “Okay, bro…then, I guess I’ll just give the skateboard that’s sitting in our room to someone else.”

  “You got me a skateboard?!”

  Thrusting Kanga into Nate’s arms for safekeeping, Xavier took off running.

  As he watched his younger brother disappear down the hallway, Nate held up Kanga, taking a closer look at the cat. “Hey, little friend,” he said. “Thanks for taking care of the numbskull for me.”

  * * * *

  Kieran and Cammie caught up with Pauly just as he reached the bottom of the main staircase. Jacob and I were walking beside Pauly, and I couldn’t help but notice how the muscles tightened in his neck when he saw Kieran and Cammie together. Even though he was smiling, it was obvious to me that seeing them together brought Pauly pain.

  Guess he still hadn’t gotten over losing Cammie, yet.

  “Dude!” said Kieran, fist-bumping his friend. “I expected you to come back with two beautiful babes, one on each arm.”

  Pauly reached out and pinched Cherry on her bottom just as she was passing. “Kept trying to snare this one, but she insists that I don’t have the right body parts.”

  Cherry blew a kiss Pauly’s way. “Dude, you’d be my first choice otherwise.”

  Cammie leaned over and gave Pauly a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said, softly.

  “Yeah, well…don’t get too excited. I’m blowing this popsicle stand as soon as the next group heads back up.”

  “To the Crazies?!” Cammie looked troubled.

  Pauly hoisted his rifle up. “Got some damsels in distress need rescuing.”

  It looked like Cammie wanted to say something more, but Andrei and Ian chose that moment to leap on Pauly.

  “What was it like up there?” asked Ian, excited. “Did you go into the Arena?”

  “Not a chance,” said Pauly. “Once was more than enough for me.”

  “I heard the Crazies are running around naked,” said Andrei, loudly. “And some of them don’t wear shoes and let their nails grow real long, so they can use them as weapons.”

  “Well, that’s news to me,” laughed Pauly. “Saw a few shirtless dudes but, other than that, all the Crazies I saw had clothes. Some were pretty dirty, though, and their clothes were ripped.”

  “Did they stink?” asked Andrei, his eyes wide. “Like could you smell them coming?”

  Paul reached out and pulled Andrei into a chokehold, giving him a hard noogie. “Kid, I smelled you coming!”

  Instead of taking offense, Andrei just laughed.

  * * * *

  I stood with Jacob—just outside the mansion—watching Nate, Pauly, and Cherry walk away, each with their own following.

  “Nice to have them home,” I said. “Good news at last.”

  Looking around to make sure that no one was watching, Jacob pushed me backward, until I was standing just inside of a hidden alcove.

  “Jacob Riker,” I said. “You are up to no good.”

  He leaned down and kissed me—gently. “Is that good?”

  “I’m not sure,” I grinned. “Why don’t we try that again?”

  * * * *

  Later that evening, I went up on the roof at my dad’s house, only to find Cherry already there. She was sitting at a small table—lit by an oil lantern—going over her tattoo book with Wyatt, our resident tattoo artist.

  “Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” I asked her. “You need some down time after all you’ve been through.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured me. “Besides, I need to get Wyatt started on these tattoos as soon as possible—especially if we’re going to have to go out of Malibu for the ink.”

  I looked down at Wyatt. Although I had seen him around the compound, we had never spent time together. He was a small, wiry kid—with dark hair that fell over his forehead, not quite covering up a bad case of acne.

  “You guys need to be alone or can I watch?”

  Wyatt shrugged, not even looking up.

  Cherry motioned to a chair at the corner of the roof. “Pull one up.”

  When I’d sat down beside them, Cherry continued with Wyatt, going through her binder, one page at a time.

  “See what they did here?” said Cherry, stopping at a drawing of an anarchist-A surrounded by what looked to me like curlicues. “This is one of my favorites—like, the letter is one tattoo drawn over the other one.”

  “It’s a Gordian knot,” said Wyatt. “Not that complicated, just looks like it. My Uncle has a picture of one he tattooed on this bike chick. It’s up on the wall at his studio.”

  “I thought this one was custom,” said Cherry.

  Wyatt shook his head. “Just the shading. What’s it used for?”

  “The Lightning Bolts—the guys who are, like right under Brandon and Mateo.”

  “That would make sense,” said Wyatt. “Something about it makes me think about the Nazi Stormtroopers.”

  Cherry turned a page. “This is the one that the White Shirts wear—the ones who go about whipping people.”

  “The fanatics…see how they’ve got the cross in there. You have to really look for it, but that’s probably the point, right?”

  “That’s what Pauly and I were thinking,” Cherry agreed. She turned another page. “This is the one we’re thinking our guys should get.”

  “Who wears it?”

  “The guys who drive the carts. They’re allowed to pretty much go anywhere. And this one on the opposite page—that’s used by the soldiers. Not the ones guarding Brandon and the Foxes, but the regular soldiers.”

  Wyatt leaned over and studied both tattoos for a long while. Finally, he sat back up, looking unsettled. “I can get the shading and I’ve got the ink we need. But I don’t think I’m strong enough to actually draw them. You’ll have to do the initial lines, then I’ll fill them in.”

  Cherry nodded. “I can do that.” Then, she turned toward me. “Any ideas on who’s going to be heading up, yet?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “Except for Pauly. He’s already talking about heading back up to Agoura Hills.”

  “Bad idea,” said Cherry, looking unhappy. “Seriously—we came this close to getting caught by Brandon. If he catches Pauly—I don’t even want to think what he’ll do to hi
m. A better idea would be to send someone Brandon doesn’t know.”

  The door opened and Jude came out onto the roof. She was holding a plastic container of what looked like something similar to banana bread. “Sophia’s been baking. Any takers?”

  All of us immediately waved her over.

  * * * *

  “And you’re sure it was Alice?” asked Jude. She seemed just as shocked as the rest of us that Brady Bob might have joined the Stars.

  “It was a star—right here.” Cherry pointed to her hand. “Nate and Pauly saw it, too.”

  “I wonder if it’s gotten too insane for her,” Jude pondered. “Maybe even Alice has finally had it with Brandon and Tray getting their freak on this way.”

  “Don’t forget that Mateo guy,” I said. “He’s behind all that ‘eat the flesh, live longer’ crap. Maybe they made her do that. Something like that might be enough to turn her against the Foxes.”

  “Or it could be something else entirely,” suggested Jude.

  “What’s that?”

  “Alice could be a double-agent.”

  My heart dropped. “If that’s true, then anybody we send up there would be doomed. The Stars know that we’re sending in infiltrators. If Alice really is still with the Foxes, but also a Star, then she’ll have told Brandon and the Foxes that our guys are coming and that would be disastrous. We’d just be sending them up there to be murdered.”

  * * * *

  The four of us stayed on that roof for hours—talking about tattoos, Foxes, and double-agents. After two helpings of almost-banana bread, even Wyatt came out of his shell; he turned out to actually be a fun, witty kid with a wicked sense of humor.

  Looking back, I now realize that this was the night that started our ‘secret’—when three of us would begin a very specific relationship that would eventually change…everything.

  FEBRUARY

  JACOB

  There were more than enough volunteers willing to go into the Valley and infiltrate the Crazies. The challenge was deciding who would be the smartest choice. Of course, the Council wanted Nate to go back up. His cover with the Crazies was well-established and he could move freely throughout the area.

  Unfortunately, Nate didn’t want to go back…not this time.

  “I just need a little break,” he told me. “Some time at home with Xavier. It’s hard for my brother when I leave. He’s always scared that I won’t come back.”

  “Dude,” I reassured him, “you take all the time off you need. Far as the Council and I are concerned, you’ve done more than your share. I say you and Xav take some boards and spend the next few weeks riding the waves.”

  “That’d be good,” he acknowledged. “Then, maybe later—after Xav feels more settled—I’ll go back up again.”

  “Works for me. The only thing I ask is that you talk to the next team going up. Give them whatever advice you think they might need.”

  He nodded. “Best thing I could tell them…stay alive.”

  * * * *

  Rhys, meanwhile, wanted desperately to be one of the spies we were sending into the Valley—as did Ian and Andrei. The three of them stood in the Council room one afternoon, excited about the possibility as they presented their case.

  “It makes sense,” Rhys declared. “I know Agoura Hills and I’ve spent some time with the Crazies, so I know how they operate.”

  “Which is exactly why it doesn’t make sense to send you up,” I reasoned. “Not including Brandon and Mateo, there’re more than a few of the Crazies who would recognize you on sight. We need guys going up there who aren’t known.”

  “But Pauly goes up,” said Rhys. “And Brandon knows him.”

  “Pauly’s an exception,” I said. “Trust me—I’d rather he didn’t go up either, but he’s already established there. And he knows where to go now and who to stay away from.”

  “That’s not fair,” Rhys pouted.

  “Look—you guys have your job here,” I pointed out. “The Raiders are essential in the defense of the Point. That’s what we count on you three for.”

  Andrei puffed up some at this. “We’ve got seventeen kids now.”

  “Well, you need to recruit more,” I told them. “We want to see your unit up to at least fifty. And I want the three of you to create a defense plan. If we’re attacked, the Raiders need to be prepared—give me troop deployments, weapons allocations, defensive tactics.”

  “Dude,” grinned Ian, “this is, like totally “Call of Duty” stuff!”

  * * * *

  As they left the Council room, I pulled Rhys to one side. “Sorry, bro,” I told him. “But I really need you guys here.”

  “You just don’t want me going up there,” Rhys grumbled.

  “That’s true,” I admitted. “But I’m not lying about needing that defensive plan.”

  “You really think we’re going to be attacked?”

  I nodded. “I think it’s only a matter of time.”

  Rhys sighed. “Fracking Crazies.”

  “Just out of curiosity. Rhys, you’re terrified of needles. What were you going to do if I actually let you go up? I mean, Wyatt would have had to tattoo you.”

  A look of horror came over Rhys’ face and he shuddered. “I guess I didn’t think of that.”

  * * * *

  Contrary to what I had told Rhys, Andrei, and Ian—I did want someone going into Crazy territory who was well known to Brandon. And, later that night, I found him—sitting in the Medical Clinic, teaching Hannah how to set a tourniquet.

  “You need to be careful,” Connor was telling the young girl. “If you do it wrong you could end up with an arm or a leg being amputated.”

  “Is that why we write on the forehead?” she asked.

  Connor nodded. “Put a capital ‘T’ and the time you set the tourniquet. If you don’t have a watch, then just keep adding a mark for each 60 seconds you count off in your head. That way we’ll know how long the tourniquet has been on.”

  “What if I don’t have a pen?” Hannah asked.

  “Use their blood.”

  * * * *

  “She’s a little young for that, don’t you think?” I said, when Connor and I had moved to a far corner of the Clinic to talk privately.

  “If the Crazies attack,” responded Connor, “no one’s too young.”

  “True that,” I agreed. “And looks like the girl might have a bit of a crush on you, Connor.”

  Hannah was sitting on one of the cots on the other side of the room, appearing to read a medical book while sneaking peeks at us—Connor, in particular.

  “She’s not even a teenager!” said Connor, reddening.

  “Right now,” I teased. “But give her a few years.”

  Connor turned even redder. “Stop it! That’s just…inappropriate!”

  “Just bugging you, bro.”

  “That’s why you came in here—to yank my chain?”

  I shook my head. “Actually, I came to ask you to be on Pauly’s team. He’s leading the guys that are heading up to the country club in Calabasas—to try and rescue the slaves. I know you’d be taking a big chance going because Brandon knows you, but—”

  “But you want me there to figure out the rescue?” he concluded.

  “You figured out how to rescue me,” I said. “Got our guys up into Agoura Hills and placed all around the football field. This country club is going to be an even bigger place. We need someone up there who can see everything at once, you know what I mean.”

  “Find the patterns,” murmured Connor, thinking. “The weak spots.”

  “We don’t have anyone else who thinks like you, Connor.”

  He nodded. “I can do it.”

  “You’ll have to be tattooed,” I warned. “Everyone going up is being marked.”

  “Plus, I’ll miss your wedding,” he said. “That sucks.”

  “We’d hold off on sending you guys up if we could. But with the Crazies attacking the sentry posts now, we just don’t think we can
.”

  “Well, the one good thing is that Brandon probably spends most of his time in Agoura. Chances are that he won’t be anywhere near the country club.”

  “That’s what we think, too.”

  Connor sighed. “Man, that tattoo is really going to hurt.”

  I motioned toward Hannah. “Maybe your little nurse could hold your hand,” I teased.

  * * * *

  Because of the complexity of the tattoos, they couldn’t be done in a single sitting. Instead, Wyatt—with Cherry helping—spent the next week tattooing everyone on the two teams in a series of steps.

  The tattoos were done in a back room at the Medical Clinic—late at night—when most of the Locals were asleep. The plan was to keep the identities of the spies confined to as few people as possible. We also didn’t want anyone knowing that the guys were getting tattooed.

  After having Damien and Goran infiltrate our tribe, we were still worried that there might be other spies among us. The last thing we needed was Brandon or the Foxes getting wind of what we had planned.

  * * * *

  On the night before the spies were set to leave, I entered the back room of the Medical Clinic to find Connor lying on his stomach. Wyatt was leaning over him, his tattooing needles poised over Connor’s back, while Cherry pointed at what looked like an elaborate set of geometric squares in a sketchbook.

  “You see what the Crazy did, right?” she instructed Wyatt. “It’s like a variation on something Escher would have drawn—it’s all symmetry and perspective.”

  “It’s tricky,” Wyatt complained.

  “Just follow the outline I drew on Connor’s back,” Cherry said. “The fill goes black to light on the ones I put a dot on—light to black on the empty ones.”

  Frowning, Wyatt went back to his work. He was tapping a set of bundled needles with a stick, each tap delivering a half dozen dabs of ink into Connor’s back.