by Nancy Isaak
“Then, you fracking better get sure!” he told me. “Because this tribe is going to need you!”
* * * *
And one week later…we were at war.
JUNE
KAYLEE
It seemed like there was always something that we needed to discuss in the Council room. If there wasn’t a juvenile disagreement between two guys or a new project that needed workers, then it was a list of supplies that absolutely had to be scavenged immediately.
The day that the Crazies attacked—as always—the Council was listening to requests. In this case, it was Jay—badly in need of more medication for the Medical Clinic.
“We’re still okay on the basic pain relievers,” she told us, as she handed out a list to Kieran, Pauly, and me. She skipped Porter, of course—since he had his own master list. “But we’re way low on anesthetics. We get any more guys hurt and we’re going to have to stitch them up without any painkiller.”
“Time to stock up on beer,” joked Pauly.
“We’re not giving alcohol to minors,” Porter frowned. “It’s inappropriate—even in this world.”
“If they’re screaming in pain,” said Kieran, seriously, “I’m pretty sure it’d be appropriate.”
“How about we get the meds on the list instead?” I suggested. “Kieran—you and I have been planning another search trip into Oxnard to look for Jacob’s team. We’ll simply add on the meds as one of our priorities.”
“Thank you,” said Jay, sitting down primly.
“Done and done,” I announced. “Which brings us around to the search party. It leaves in two days and I don’t want to hear any more arguments from any of you—I’m going on it.”
Kieran and Jay both looked frustrated; Porter was uncertain.
Pauly didn’t seem to care either way. “As long as I’m on it, too…it’s fine with me. I just want a chance to sniff out their trail.”
“You really think you can?” I asked, hopefully.
Before Pauly could answer, however, there came a frantic knocking on the door. Even as Porter rose to head over, the door slammed open and a guard rushed in.
“Look out the window!” he cried. “We’ve got smoke!”
* * * *
The others moved just as quickly as I did. In fact, Pauly knocked over his chair in his rush to reach the window. We crowded around the panes, holding back the curtains to look outside.
“Where?” I asked the guard. “I can’t see it!”
He pushed among us, pointing along the coastline, toward the north. “There...right around Point Mugu!”
And then we did.
“Oh god,” I whispered. “I think it’s one of the bonfires!”
* * * *
The smoke was so far away and the windows so dirty that we simply weren’t certain. Instead—to get a better view—we raced outside, running through the front grounds of the mansion, out through the inner walls, and to the cliffside at the far end of the compound.
“Are we even sure it’s from one of the bonfires?” asked Porter, once we reached the cliff. “All I really see is, like a wisp of something. Maybe it’s just a cloud.”
“If it’s a cloud,” murmured Kieran, “then it’s a red cloud.”
“It’s a pretty light red,” said Pauly, leaning forward, as if that would make it somehow easier for him to see. “It could just be a cloud in the distance. Like maybe over Ventura way.”
“Oh no!” cried Jay. She pointed to a different location—farther inland to another wisp of red smoke, this one much closer and denser than the one north of us. “Where is that?!”
“Encinal Canyon,” I whispered, feeling a knot of terror begin to unfurl in my gut.
“And over there!” added Pauly, pointing north. “That’s Heavens Beach going up, isn’t it?”
I turned back toward the coastline. Sure enough, another bonfire had been lit, its red smoke sputtering into the air. Even as we watched, a separate mushroom of red bloomed a few miles closer.
“And there goes Trancas!” I groaned.
“Is there any chance that it could be Jacob’s team coming back?” asked Porter. He was chewing on his nails, obviously stressed.
“No,” I shook my head. “If it was the team, the smoke would be green. This smoke is definitely red. That means one thing—we’ve got unfriendlies coming.”
“Crazies!” hissed Jay.
* * * *
Others had finally started to notice.
Guys came forward, singly and in groups, standing at the cliffside, looking out toward the rising columns of red smoke. There was confusion on some of their faces—fear on others.
I turned away from them—looking out over the coastline once more—trying to hide my own terror. As I did, I saw something that I hadn’t noticed before.
“Oh no, “I moaned.
“What is it, Kaylee?” asked Kieran, looking hard in the same direction. “What are you seeing?
Trying to control my fear, I pointed north. “That first bonfire, the one at Point Mugu…it’s not the one that my team built.”
“What do you mean?” asked Porter, looking confused. “How could it not be?”
“It’s too high up,” I explained. “Which means that it’s the one that Larry and his guys built after we left—up on Mugu Peak above their sentry post. They said they’d only light it if the Crazies were already at Point Mugu. If Larry lit the bonfire on the Peak, he said that would mean that they had to evacuate up the mountain.”
Kieran frowned. “Which means that we already have Crazies at least as far as Point Mugu, most likely coming down Pacific Coast Highway from the north.”
I nodded. “And enough that Larry’s guys couldn’t defend themselves against them, because they wouldn’t leave their sentry positions otherwise.”
Beside me, Jay began to hiccup—little sobs of terror. Porter immediately reached out and put an arm around her shoulder, comforting her. “We’re gonna’ be okay. You’ll see.”
Kieran and I, however, weren’t so certain. We shared a look—an unfortunate understanding of what we were up against.
Meanwhile, Pauly put his hands on his hips and sighed dramatically. “Well, this sucks.”
* * * *
As we raced back to the mansion, I began to bark out orders, moving with a confidence and authority that I didn’t actually feel. “We need the trumpet sounded,” I instructed one of my guards. “Get everyone around the cage in the next five minutes—so I can talk to them.”
Nodding, the guard took off.
A few moments later, as the rest of us went through the inner walls into the mansion’s gardens, I heard the trumpet. From the notes it bleated, I knew that it was calling all Locals to an assembly at the cage.
“Kieran,” I called, waving him up beside me. “If we’ve got Crazies coming down Encinal and along Pacific Coast Highway, then that means that we’ll probably be attacked from at least two directions.”
“Which also means a bigger fighting force,” he added.
“So, how is it that we haven’t had any warning from the Stars? If this many Crazies are on their way here, surely Brent and Han would have known about it.” We reached the mansion and I stopped on the front stairs. “I need to know if you still feel that you can trust these Stars.”
Kieran shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I thought I could, but honestly…I’m worried now. If we’re really under attack, you’re right…it doesn’t make any sense that they wouldn’t know.”
“So—either they did know and are part of Brandon and the Foxes…”
“…or something went wrong up in the Valley and they got found out.”
“And we’ve still got guys up there,” I groaned. “Josh is there!”
For a moment, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Then, I nodded—as if I had simply been gathering my thoughts. “Get Wyatt,” I ordered Kieran. “Tell him to bring Cherry’s Crazy-sketches. He’ll know which ones.”
“The Council room or the cag
e?”
“Cage,” I said. “And Pauly—you make sure every Local is fully armed. I want guns and ammo distributed to everyone who’s been qualified to shoot. Everyone else gets something—rifle, knife, cop-sock—just make sure that they’ve got something to defend themselves with.”
Pauly saluted me. “Roger that.”
“And Porter, I want a first aid kit on you and Jay at all times.”
“I’ll head back to the clinic and pick them up,” Porter nodded. “Plus, we’ve got other kits placed around the Point. We’ll lay out some more—just in case.”
“Good. Okay everybody—you know what you have to do. Meet me back at the cage in five. I’ll talk to the tribe there.”
Then, I turned to Jay. “You’re with me.”
* * * *
I made it as far as my bedroom before I collapsed in total terror. Jay rushed forward, missing me as I slid to the floor, hyperventilating. “They…kn-new!”
“Who knew?” asked Jay, sitting down beside me.
I was gasping, trying hard to catch my breath. “F-foxes…Br-bran-don!”
“What did they know?”
“Ja-cob…gone! Me…n-not…read-y!” If anything, I began to hyperventilate even more—my breath growing frantic, raspier. It felt like I was going to faint; my peripheral vision was disappearing, blackness appearing at the sides of my eyes.
Meanwhile, outside of the mansion, I could still hear the alarm being sounded, calling all Locals to the cage.
“I’m sorry,” Jay whispered.
“Wh-hat?” I gasped.
“So sorry.” Then, she hit me—a massive wallop, right across my face. It stung and I gulped in air, shocked.
“Ser-i-ously, Jay!”
She whacked me again—this time even harder than the first. When Jay lifted her hand to hit me a third time, I pushed at her. “Stop it!”
“Or what?” she demanded, her hand still raised.
“Or I will knock you on your Goddess-ass!” I snapped.
Jay grinned, lowering her hand. “And now you can breathe again,” she gloated. “It was old-school, but hey—it’s not like we have a lot of time here.”
I frowned, rubbing at my stinging cheek. “I don’t think you’re my best friend anymore.”
“Whatever,” she sniffed. “Now, you listen to me, Kaylee Michelson—I don’t care if you don’t have faith in yourself that you can lead this tribe. What’s important here is that we Locals have faith in you. So, whatever you’re going through with this little breakdown here has got to stop. Get your crap together because—whatever you think—you’re the leader that we’ve got.”
“But…”
Jay raised her hand again in warning.
* * * *
“You’re changing your clothes…now?!”
“Do you really think that I’m going to stand on that cage in a pink, pleated mini with a matching button-down?” I asked, incredulously, as I tugged on a pair of black jeans to go with the black t-shirt I had already put on. “You think that would inspire the troops?”
Jay chuckled to herself. “Well, probably…but not in the right way.”
“There are black boots at the bottom of the closet. Grab them for me, please.”
As Jay dug into my closet, I walked over to the Picasso, strapping on my gun at the same time. “Okay, Jacob,” I told the painting, “time for my own Guernica, and I just want you to know that I’m super-pissed that you’re not here right now to do this yourself.”
“Got ‘em!” Jay placed the boots at my feet. I slipped into them quickly, then started braiding my hair into one, long plait.
“I expect you to come riding in like the cavalry,” I spoke to the painting once more. “You need to rescue me, you hear, Jacob...you need to rescue all of us!”
Then—feeling a little more confident—I turned back to Jay. “There’s a jelly bottle full of black paint down in the Council room. You’ll find it on the second shelf in the cupboard next to the window. Grab it and meet me down at the cage.”
As she nodded, I turned and left the room.
Behind me, I heard Jay whisper—I assumed, to the painting. “Don’t worry, Jacob…Kaylee doesn’t need rescuing. She just doesn’t know it, yet.”
I loved Jay.
But she was a liar.
* * * *
My guards fell in behind me as we left the mansion, walking toward the inner walls. Meanwhile, I could hear the rise and fall of barely-contained terror in the compound on the other side—running feet, the metallic click of bullet magazines being slotted into rifles and guns, the cries of fear as one boy called out to another.
When I reached the door that led out into the main compound, I stopped, taking in a deep breath. Beside me, one of my guards—Erroll—reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. When I looked at him, he merely nodded his support.
I nodded back, then stepped through the door.
And into the chaos.
* * * *
Without a doubt, there was panic setting in; guys were milling about, fear written all over their faces. There was already a large crowd around the cage, with more Locals streaming into the compound with every passing second.
As the guards cleared a path for me toward the cage, I felt hands reach toward me, while anxious voices called out questions.
Is it the Crazies? Are they coming?
Should we run?
Are we going to fight?
What if they kill us? What if they capture us? What if they eat us?
And, of course—the question that cut me the deepest.
Where is Jacob?
* * * *
I waited until most of the tribe had assembled in the courtyard, before I finally climbed up onto the cage. It was difficult to look down upon the scared faces of the kids who expected me to have all the answers—who wanted me to protect them, to save them.
How had this possibly happened?
A year and a half ago, I was just a normal teenage girl; now here I was, apparently leading a tribe of just over a hundred kids into battle—against flesh-eaters.
Seriously—how random was that?
* * * *
When you’re scared yourself, it’s comforting to look into the faces of those who support you. I did that now—searching out the ones closest to me.
There was Shawnee, standing with her Raiders. They had already armed themselves—Shawnee with her bow, the others with rifles and guns. I looked for Ethan and Wester and saw their young faces staring up at me—their lips tight, their brows furrowed.
Next to them, Florenza and Pauly were standing, hand-in-hand. Cammie was beside Florenza—but only for a moment—before Kieran came and drew her away. Even at this critical time, Kieran’s continued distaste for Florenza had reared its ugly head.
“Kaylee!” It was Jay, at the base of the cage, holding up the jelly jar of black paint. I reached down and took it, nodding my thanks.
“You’ll be great!” Jay mouthed, then moved off beside Porter. I grinned at the way they casually touched each other, how they pretended they weren’t really in love.
Or maybe—they still didn’t know it, yet.
* * * *
The noise of the Locals died down as I held up my hands. I turned slowly, in a full circle, making certain that everyone would be able to hear.
Finally—I began.
“The bonfires of Point Mugu, Encinal Canyon, and Heavens Beach have been lit and are burning red. For those of you who don’t know, red means that the Crazies are heading toward us.”
“Could it be a mistake?” called a timid voice.
“That is a possibility,” I admitted. “But it’s not probable, and we would be foolish not to prepare to defend ourselves. Even though it may be hours before the Crazies get here, I believe strongly that they are coming.”
There was much grumbling from the guys around the cage; some of the younger ones openly began to cry.
“You all have your weapons,” I said, loudly
. “And you all have your assigned positions. When I dismiss you, I want everyone to join their teams and their team leaders and await for further instructions.”
Down below, Wyatt pushed his way through the crowd of boys. He was carrying one of Cherry’s sketchbooks, which he handed up to me.
“Thanks, Wyatt,” I told him. “Do you know where you’ll be going?”
He nodded. “I’m helping Sophia on the food lines.”
“Good,” I said. “Just make sure you guys have weapons on you at all times.”
Wyatt patted the gun at his waist, then pushed himself back through the crowd. He settled into a spot beside Sophia, who—ironically—was holding a rifle in one hand and a potholder in the other.
Trying not to grin at the absurdity of it all, I held Cherry’s sketchbook up high, turning to her drawing of Brandon.
“This is the leader of the Crazies,” I called out, loudly. “Remember his face. Brandon is six feet and has the kind of muscles you get from steroids.” A number of the older guys nodded knowingly. “When I saw him last he had shaved off most of his hair and there was a big ‘A’ tattooed on the back of his head.”
I turned a page. “And this is Mateo…you can recognize him from the scar on his face. He’s not as tall as Brandon, but he’s definitely just as mean. Plus, he’s the guy who put the Crazy in Crazies. From what we’ve learned, Mateo is the one who started them eating human flesh.”
Cries of anger and horror rose up from the crowd. I turned another page in the sketchbook. “This redhead is Orla and this African-American girl is Tray. They are called the Foxes. I don’t expect that they’ll be in with the Crazies coming toward us but, if by chance, they are—do not underestimate them. They are both dangerous, especially Tray.”
There were a couple of low whistles from the crowd…a few titters of disbelief. I closed the sketchbook and handed it down to a guy. “Pass it around,” I told him, then turned back to the crowd. “Make sure all of you have a good look at the faces in that book. Wyatt has also drawn two extra copies. One has been placed next to the food line, the other is at the entrance to the compound.”