The Volunteer

by J B Cantwell

  A couple of cars were headed into the city; maybe they hadn’t heard or realized what was going on.

  What was going on?

  The bus driver blared his horn, and the cars swerved out of our way.

  “Idiots!” he yelled out the window. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?” He gripped the wheel hard. “Of course they don’t know,” he mumbled.

  We descended, flying through the tunnel at seventy-five miles an hour. The lights that lined the structure whizzed by in a blur.

  My foot was tapping the floor, and I wrung my hands. I couldn’t wait to get to the other side. I had to see. I had to know.

  But despite our speed, the trip still felt like days.

  It was quiet inside now but for the low rumble of the engine and the tires spinning against the asphalt. Some of the panic was dying down now. A few people were breathing hard, their chests heaving from running or fear, I couldn’t tell.

  There was nothing to do now but wait to see what was left once we were safely across.

  I ripped my gaze from the back window and turned to sit down next to Alex. He held onto my hand so tight it hurt.

  “Ouch,” I complained. “You’re crushing my hand.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I’m just, I don’t know, freaked out, I guess.”

  We all were.

  I didn’t have anything to say. I was still drenched, but my skin no longer stung.

  Must be adrenaline.

  I wanted to sit back, to lift one of Alex’s arms and wrap it around me, but I was too terrified. I would find no comfort in his arms or any others.’ My heart felt like it was about to leap out of my throat.

  All those people. Would they survive? Would the whole island flood?

  There were the high rises, I figured. Most of the people lived up high. Even if the city flooded entirely, many would live. At least, if they were smart enough, or lucky enough, to make it to the higher floors.

  What about everybody else?

  Jonathan? Prime Johnston from the diner? Kiyah? Were they all even alive to begin with?

  Jonathan was. He would make it. He wasn’t stupid. He was a runner. He’d either slip away and make a break for the Stilts, or he’d find another way to safety. An elevator, maybe. I wondered if any building would let him in with an Orange designation. Hopefully in the chaos he could make it through.

  As we began the ascent out of the tunnel, explosions could be heard again. The tunnel held fast; it didn’t crumble. But the sound was haunting, nails on a chalkboard to my ears.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we broke free into daylight. I let go of Alex’s hand and whipped around in my seat.

  What I saw took my breath away.

  Fighter jets, maybe those same two, flew along the edge of the Hudson. And they were firing again.

  This time I saw what they were firing at.

  The Stilts.

  My mouth fell open as I watched the missiles make contact with the buildings. Some of them stayed upright, giant gaping holes ripped out of their floors. Others crumbled into the water.

  Nobody was spared. Nobody.

  The jets flew back and forth, firing at will, until every building was either on fire or down in the water.

  Tears slid down my cheeks. All of it. All of them. Would anyone survive? I didn’t care about the people in the city. Not now. They weren’t the targets.

  The Volunteers were.

  The sound of the explosions began to die down as we drove farther and farther away. Now, the buildings were only fireballs in the distance as they were systematically destroyed.

  Several soldiers stuck their heads out the windows to watch, but nobody yelled or whooped. Nobody won.

  I couldn’t watch it anymore. I turned away from the window and sat back down. My hand gave a throb, and I stared at the bandage, now dirty and wet. I slowly uncovered the wound, which stung from the combination of blood and rain. The stitches were still clean, though. I took a deep breath and let it out.

  For a moment, I thought I might throw up. I put my head between my legs, trying to slow down my breathing.

  What would become of them? Of me? My mission?

  Had Jonathan been right? Had it been our own government that had started the attack? Just to have an excuse to take down the Stilts one by one? I couldn’t see why they would even need a reason. But apparently I was wrong.

  Either way, those buildings, those people, they were all gone now.

  I sat back up, and this time instead of looking back out of the open window, I tilted it back, letting the muggy air cool my face, dry my tears.

  “Riley?” Alex put his hand over mine. “Hey. You okay?”

  I took a deep breath, opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out.

  No. Not okay.

  In that moment, as the bus swerved and turned and raced away from the city, now in ruins, I felt sure that I would never be okay again.

  EPISODE 3

  Chapter One

  It took me a while to ask him why.

  I nestled my head into his massive chest, silent tears running down my face.

  Why had he been in New York? Why had he been on Amanda’s trail? And later, why mine? How had he even found me?

  All of those people in the Stilts. The families. The children.

  Gone.

  And the hackers, too. The terrorists, all working so hard to bring the system down. Blown away.

  I wondered if Jonathan had made it. If the man in the jewelry store had had enough time to evacuate. Or the florist. Amanda. Kiyah.

  So many questions. Too many to answer.

  After a while, I sat up in my seat and looked around. There were only twenty or so of us on the bus. Everyone looked down, dejected.

  I wondered how many soldiers had been left behind. I wondered if Manhattan had, in fact, totally flooded. I had seen that breach in the wall, had seen the water begin to spill over. It gave me chills just to think about it. It was like a big pool waiting to be filled, surrounded on all sides by that huge, looming wall of concrete.

  I turned around in my seat to look out the back window. It was all far away now, well behind us. We were headed inland where the cities were safe from the floodwaters.

  “Hey,” Alex said, watching me. “Are you okay?”

  I just stared and stared out the window, watching the untended road slip away beneath us.

  “Riley.” He put his hand on my chin, turning my head to look at him.

  I didn’t want to look away from what I could see out the window. I wanted to just watch it, to see the land from behind as we made our way through. And what was I hoping to see? The dead brought back to life?

  I couldn’t avoid him forever. I turned to face him.

  His eyes were concerned, deep sockets in his gigantic frame. But they were clear now, so unlike the ones he had looked through six months before when he had been so brainwashed that he couldn’t even remember me. They were blank then.

  But not now.

  His question lingered in my mind. Was I okay?

  Of course not. I wasn’t okay. But I lied.

  “I’ll be alright.”

  I turned back around in my seat, my injured hand held in the other. The bandage was dirty and torn. I didn’t feel any pain, though. I didn’t feel anything.

  I leaned back and stared at the ceiling of the bus. My lens flashed in front of my vision.

  DANGER. ORANGE DESIGNATE. DANGER.

  Of course there were Oranges here on the bus. The Service wasn’t picky about which type of people it admitted. Our designations would become invisible at the beginning of each year, a stop-gap to keep us all fighting on the same team. So the Reds and Oranges wouldn’t gang up on the Greens. So the Greens would see the people they had been conditioned to fear as just a group of soldiers, not unlike themselves, worthy of protection.

  I unfocused my vision and moved my eyes from the warning to the upper left corner, minimizing it in my view.

  Everyone was dang
erous.

  I was a Green. Still. I had come close to treason a few times now, but they didn’t have any proof. Or, if they did, they were keeping it to themselves.

  “Riley,” he said again, tilting his head to try to catch my eye.

  “Yeah?” I glanced up at him. “I’ll be fine. Really.” I paused, staring back into his eyes now. “Why were you following Amanda?” I finally asked.

  He shrugged. “Orders, I guess.”

  His answer was not satisfactory.

  “Really? That’s it? That’s all you have to say about it?”

  He didn’t turn away, which surprised me.

  “Yes. That’s it. Don’t be that way; I’ve thought about it, too, you know.”

  Sudden anger flared within me.

  “Oh, yeah? You’ve thought about it? And what did you come up with?”

  He frowned.

  “I think they want me closer to you, actually.”

  “To me? Why?”

  “I don’t know, Riley.” His tone was growing irritated. “When was the last time you disobeyed a direct order? I came because I was told to.”

  Tears were threatening again. We were so far away from each other, even sitting so close together.

  He softened.

  “Like I said, I think they want me to stay near you. To watch you.”

  Me?

  Me.

  “What happened?” I began. “After Edmonton. Where did they take you?”

  “Back to camp at Fort Jamison. You know they have that medical facility there. I had a couple surgeries on my leg. It didn’t take long for it to heal once they’d set the bone. You know the drugs they have. They just put me through a round of phasing, and it was mostly gone within a couple of days. If anything, I feel stronger than I did before.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, sitting up again. “If they put you through phasing, how come your mind is still with you? You didn’t even recognize me before.”

  “Yeah, I know. I thought about that, too, but I didn’t ask them. That seemed … risky. So I just let it lie.”

  I looked down at his leg, healed now from the terrible break he’d sustained during the battle for Edmonton. I had been supposed to leave him behind. He, himself, had scolded me for not doing so.

  But the commander hadn’t scolded me. Not once he found out that I’d rescued a Prime. Any other soldier and I would have been discharged at the very least. Or sent to the Burn. Or maybe even executed. There was no tolerance for breaking rules in the Service.

  But a Prime. Well, they would make an exception for that.

  I was just lucky to have made it this far unscathed. My stories were just slippery enough to let me slide through their grasp. They could have killed me at any time. Why they didn’t, I couldn’t be sure, but I was starting to think they wanted to keep me alive. Maybe they thought I would lead them to the Volunteers, to the leaders of the resistance.

  Well, if that were true then I was certainly in real danger now, because as far as I knew, practically everyone serving as a Volunteer was dead. That left only me to carry out their plans.

  And Chambers, maybe. The old doctor-turned-Volunteer must still be out there. Somewhere.

  The bus gave a jolt as it navigated over a giant pothole in the road. It shook me out of my thoughts. Alex put his hand over mine, and I didn’t resist him.

  We were moving into rolling hills now, and while they were green and lush, I found no beauty in them. The bus slowed and swerved over the winding road.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  I didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know what the right answer to that question was. “I’m wondering if I can trust you.”

  Trees whipped by and I turned to face him again.

  “Can I?”

  He let go of my hand.

  “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice a whisper in an attempt to keep our conversation private. “You’re asking me if you can trust me? To what? Not kill you? You know, you can be a real piece of work sometimes.”

  I snorted.

  “Sure. Right. I’m a piece of work. You’re the one who was so in love with the Service that you didn’t even recognize me. You’re the one whose life I saved. And you sit here and tell me that I shouldn’t be cautious. That I shouldn’t question your loyalty.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t miss the warmth of his hand now that he had taken it away.

  He went silent, staring ahead, his brows furrowed with anger.

  “Fine. Don’t tell me,” I said. I moved over in my seat so that I was sitting right up against the window.

  And we stayed that way. Apart from one another. Riding into the gathering night alone.

  Chapter Two

  I had just been starting to fall asleep when the bus jolted to a stop.

  My lens lit up again, flashing the name of the city across my view.

  Philadelphia.

  I pulled down the news from the corner of my lens view, but there wasn’t anything about New York. It was strange, almost as if nothing at all had happened. Why were they hiding it?

  Rain poured down onto the roof of the bus, so loud it reminded me of gunshots. I looked out the window and saw that we were right in the center of the city, tall buildings jutting up on all sides. I stared around at the lit up streets, but not a single person was out.

  I wouldn’t have been out in this weather, either. Not with the way the rain stung and sizzled on the skin. But then, I wondered, was it possible that the rain was different here? Maybe Philadelphia didn’t have the same problems as New York. Maybe their skies were clear of the clouds of pollution that covered Manhattan, their rain pure.

  As I pondered this idea, my heart started to beat faster and faster.

  There was no reason to be concerned. No reason to be scared. But suddenly I was. This place was foreign to me, with its empty streets and clean rain. Where was everybody? Even in the weather and at this hour I would have expected people to be out, someone to be out.

  The driver opened the doors to the bus and stood up to address us.

  “This is the stop for most of you. If you’re not stationed in Indiana, it’s time to disembark.”

  Outside the bus, I saw that a sergeant was waiting in the rain, his slicker dripping. He boarded the bus.

  Sergeant Aaron Black

  Designation: Silver

  “Soldiers!” he barked. “For all of you, this is not your final destination. There is another bus en route that will take you to the Service base in Fairview. Gather your things and follow me.”

  Everyone looked around, searching. A backpack. A change of clothes. A jacket. But there were none of these things. Everyone had escaped with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. I looked around at the confused soldiers and stood up.

  “Sergeant Black,” I said. “Permission to speak, Sir?”

  His brow furrowed as he looked me up and down.

  “Yes, soldier. You may.”

  “What happened back in New York, Sir? Did many survive?”

  Of course, my question was as much about the Volunteers as it was the legal inhabitants of Manhattan. Though I guessed I wouldn’t be hearing much about whatever remained of the Stilts.

  “Yes, soldier Taylor. My understanding is that the flooding was minimal, just two or three feet. Some died in the waters, those caught in the current as the flooding began, but most survived. The breach in the wall only came down by about twenty feet, just enough to let a load of water in, but high enough to ensure that the entire island didn’t drown.”

  I stayed standing, not knowing what else to say.

  “Is that all, soldier?” he asked, looking annoyed now.

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  I took my seat. It was only then that I realized most eyes were staring in my direction.

  Including Hannah’s.

  My stomach gave a painful twist as we made eye contact, and all at once I realized the truth. About her.
About Alex. I would never be out of danger as long as they were watching me. Alex could say what he wanted, but the reality was that he was here on orders. Would he have chosen to be here if it were up to him? Or would he have preferred to be off in a battle somewhere, taking lives, picking enemies off one by one?

  And Hannah. She was even worse, somehow. At least I knew Alex had been clawing his way back from the brainwashing that had happened during boot camp, but I was sure that Hannah was working completely on her own. She liked the hunt. I remembered that from our days in the woods playing war games. She took no prisoners, that was for sure.

  “Okay, soldiers,” Black said. “Time to move on out!”

  In the crowd I couldn’t tell who was getting up and who was staying. I sat back in my seat, glancing at Alex. He stared straight ahead.

  “Isn’t this your stop?” I asked.

  He shook his head no.

  Of course not.

  “Ah, I see. The game of cat and mouse continues.”

  He glanced at me. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

  He was right, but I didn’t care.

  As the soldiers filed out of the bus into the driving rain I realized that there were only three of us left, headed to Indiana. Alex. Me.

  And Hannah.

  She looked back at me, a smirk stretched across her stupid face. Then, she surprised me. The smirk vanished, seemingly almost against her will, and she nodded.

  This was her sign of recognition that I had saved her. This was my thank you.

  Then, she stood up and followed the rest of the soldiers down the stairs and out of the bus.

  She was gone.

  I tried to keep my eyes open, but it was no use. The day had been so stressful, so terrifying, that my body was exhausted.

  My sleep was black. Dreamless. Occasionally, my eyes would flutter open, but it was many hours before I was jolted fully awake by the bus moving over a series of pot holes.

  I pulled my head upright and found that Alex was still asleep, himself. I moved over, away from him, and looked out the window. The sun was coming up over wide, rolling plains. In the distance, a city loomed. My lens flashed. Cleveland.