The Volunteer
Page 17
I exited the bus ahead of the others, my feet kicking up clouds of dust as they hit the ground.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked the driver.
“What do we do? No, kid. What do you do. I’m going to get some grub, grab some sleep, and then off I’ll go to my next passenger assignment. I’ll leave the rest to you.” He turned and walked away from the bus. I looked after him, but couldn’t imagine where he was going. There wasn’t a building in sight.
The others stepped off the bus behind me.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s not lose track of this guy.”
Alex was looking through small gaps in the trees at the land. He craned his neck, looking for what, I didn’t know.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he finally said.
He led the way. Taller than the rest of us, he could see where the driver had disappeared to. We all followed.
It wasn’t long before he slowed to a stop. At first, I couldn’t see what he was looking at, but then I saw it, myself. A large hatch with metal doors was set into the ground. A man stood with just his head sticking up through the opening.
Major Jason Tanning
Designation: Gold
Gold. I’d never met someone with that designation before. I wondered why he was greeting us and not someone less important.
He took a couple more steps out of the hatch, and we all stopped, standing at attention, our hands up to our foreheads in a silent salute.
“Get your hands down,” he hissed, jumping out of the opening. “The last thing I need is to be taken out by a sniper because of a few idiots like you all.”
We lowered our hands.
“Get in here,” he snarled, turning back and making his way back down the staircase.
Alex and I glanced at each other just for a moment, a flash of understanding exchanging between us.
This guy wasn’t for messing with.
Alex took the lead and followed Tanning down the stairs. I paused, letting Jeremy and Emma go ahead of me. I worried in that moment that if I didn’t round them up, they might not follow us at all. Indeed, Emma’s face was a sheet of white as she looked back at me. I nodded encouragingly, though I didn’t feel nearly so brave, myself. She tentatively took the first few stairs down into the hatch. Then, with one last glance around, I followed her down into the black.
As I took the last step and found my place beside Emma, the doors to the hatch above closed automatically behind us. The landing that we stood upon was dark, lit up only by a string of dim bulbs that extended down the hallway.
Tanning turned to us.
“Welcome to the silo. You’ll all be here for the next year, so you should get used to the light down here. Opportunities to go outside will be rare. Follow me.”
He turned and started down the hallway. Alex, like before, was first in line. Emma looked back to me, clearly shaken, and I nodded encouragingly. She turned and followed Jeremy.
“You’ll find,” Tanning went on, “that there are banks of lights available in the mess hall to keep you all from diving off the deep end. Use them, and take your vitamins. The lack of vitamin D from the limited sun exposure you will experience will make you sick, otherwise.”
Ahead in the distance, a blinding light fell onto the wall opposite. As we drew closer, I recognized it as the mess hall, the light shining through a bank of windows. My stomach gave an angry growl at the smell coming out the open door as we passed, of hot mash and something else I didn’t recognize. Inside, two male soldiers sat eating their breakfast. One of them perked up at the sight of us and pointed us out to the other one, who raised a hand, a gesture of hello. A few others looked up as well, watching us as we gazed through the windows, hungry.
“You’ll have time to eat after you settle your things in the bunk hall. Soldiers Taylor and Williams, you’ll find clean fatigues and dry boots at your stations.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at this, the promise of warmth. My toes had been cold ever since leaving Manhattan, but I hadn’t dared to remove my sodden boots on the bus. I hadn’t known where we were going or how long it would take us to get there. The last thing I needed was to get reprimanded by a sergeant for unpreparedness.
More pressing than the issue of dry boots, though, was the throbbing in my hand. Blood had begun to seep from beneath the bandage, making it obvious that I would need to visit the infirmary before getting breakfast.
Tanning opened a large metal door and indicated that we should go inside. A line of twenty cots stretched along the edge of one wall. Only seven had any indication that there was someone calling this place home. The beds were made with thick woolen blankets, and a small shelving unit beside each one was stacked with clean fatigues and underclothes. Opposite the bunks, on the other side of the room, twenty more beds sat waiting. Five, maybe six, showed signs of life.
I turned to face Tanning, standing at attention, a reflex action. “Permission to speak, Sir,” I called out.
He glared at me. I wondered why.
“Permission granted, soldier.”
I held out my hand covered by the dirty, bloody bandage.
“May I visit the infirmary before breakfast, Sir?”
He frowned. “What happened to you, soldier?”
I didn’t answer right away. I had to square my story with the one I had given back in Brooklyn.
“I—I cut myself during break, sir, climbing into my mother’s apartment from a broken window.”
He shook his head.
“And why was the window broken, soldier?” he asked.
“Because I broke it, Sir. My mother was not inside, and I didn’t have a key.”
He looked at me, appraising.
“That was a stupid move on your part, wouldn’t you say, soldier?”
Stupid? Whatever he wanted …
“Yes, Sir.”
“Get changed first,” he said. Then, follow the hallway down a ways. You will see that we have a nurse on duty most hours, though he might be irritated if you’re interrupting his breakfast.”
My stomach grumbled.
“I will skip breakfast if necessary, Sir.”
He nodded his head, seemingly satisfied.
“Alright, then.” He turned to the rest of the group. “All of you get cleaned up and grab yourself some mash. The mess hall closes at 0730.”
I looked up at the clock on the wall. It was already 0700. I let out a silent, frustrated breath. But my hand gave another angry throb.
I could eat later.
Chapter Four
The Major left us, and only then did Emma and Jeremy drop their heavy packs to the floor.
I shot a perplexed look in Alex’s direction.
“Why a Major?” I mouthed. It seemed odd that there was no one with a lower designation to wrangle us.
He shrugged, walking farther into the space.
On the first wall of beds, we found our names written in paper and taped to each bed.
Holden
Miller
Williams
and right next to him …
Taylor
I made my way over and sat down on the bed, quickly untying my boots and yanking them off my feet. Underneath the socks, my feet were pruny and cold. I wished I had time to just lay down flat, to let my feet air out and grow warm beneath the thick woolen blanket.
But there was no time.
I started to pull at my pants, at first forgetting that Alex was standing right beside me. Then, with a quick glance at his raised eyebrows, I stopped.
The door to the bunk room slammed, and we all looked up.
“You’d better get used to undressing in front of us all, sweetheart,” one of the soldiers from the mess hall called.
Hector Ortiz
Designation: Orange
And beside him,
Tom Macbride
Designation: Green
I wondered when they would take away our ability to read color designations. Surely, someone must realize that we we
re still able to see. I pushed the issue aside for now. They would figure it out soon enough.
“My name isn’t sweetheart,” I said, rising to his challenging tone. I wasn’t about to take heat from some random soldier who didn’t know me from Adam.
“Well, what is it then?” he asked.
“Let it go, Hector,” Tom said, elbowing him and smiling at me.
“Soldier Taylor,” I said.
They both laughed, and as I caught Alex’s eye, I saw that he was smiling, too.
Fine then. Go ahead. Underestimate me.
I dropped my pants, stepping out of them, and pulled my dirty t-shirt over my head for good measure. Both of the guys stared, though I saw Alex pointedly avert his gaze.
It would be something we’d both need to get used to.
I turned and picked out a clean set of clothes from the shelf attached to my bunk and started to dress. As I pulled up the dry set of pants, I looked up to find Jeremy staring at me, mouth slack.
Great.
“Close your mouths, boys,” I called.
Hector approached us, stopping in front of Alex.
“Man, you’re huge. I’ve seen a few Primes in my day, but nobody as big as you. How many phasings did you go through?”
Alex puffed up his chest, clearly proud.
“More than I bothered counting.”
“What landed you here?” Hector went on. “I thought you guys were always in battle. Super soldiers.”
Alex shrugged, glancing at me as I pulled on a clean t-shirt.
“I guess they had a few to spare.”
“Well, welcome to the silo.”
“Thanks. How long have you guys been here?”
Tom held out his arm and turned it to one side. A large burn scar reached from his wrist to his elbow.
“Long enough to get this,” he said.
Alex whistled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jeremy and Emma staring at him, too, only they weren’t impressed. They seemed more terrified than ever.
“What is that from?” Emma asked, her voice barely audible.
“What do you think?” Hector said. Then, he gestured with his hands and mouthed the word, “Boom.”
Emma shuddered.
“Get used to it,” he said. “You guys know why you’re here, right?”
“Well enough,” Alex said.
“Well, the guys who were here before showed us the ropes,” Hector said. “I guess it’s our turn now, eh?”
I blew out an exasperated breath as I sat down to pull on my dry socks and new pair of boots.
“Oh, you don’t think you’ll need our help?” Hector said.
“I didn’t say that,” I snarled. Though, secretly, I thought I’d be better off on my own in this place.
But then I eyeballed Tom’s scar and thought twice.
“How long have you had that?” I asked, nodding toward his arm.
For just a split second, his smile faltered. Suddenly, the fun of the moment seemed to have left him. He glanced down at his scar.
“About six months now, I guess.”
“Well, whoever it was that was showing you the ropes … seems like maybe they weren’t the best teachers.” I double knotted my boots and stood up. “Now, where’s the infirmary?”
“Right down the hall, sweet—uh, I mean, Soldier Taylor.” Hector looked giddy as he tried to hold in his laughter. He turned to Alex. “She always this feisty?”
Alex glanced at me, eyes flashing. “No. Not always. But if I were you I’d watch your back.” A smile stretched across his face now.
I rolled my eyes and made for the door. If I was lucky, I might still have time to catch the tail-end of breakfast.
“Yeah,” Hector answered. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll watch hers, instead.”
I slammed the door behind me.
Twenty minutes later, my hand lay bare before the nurse as he pulled out the last of my stitches beneath a bright light.
Michael Cooper, RN
Designation: Bronze
I hissed as he yanked out the last one.
“Don’t you have any pain killers in this place?” My palm was throbbing worse than ever.
He sighed and looked up at me. “Usually, we save the pain meds for serious injuries.”
I felt like a school child being scolded. He removed a hooked needle from a disposable tray.
“Seriously?”
He pulled my hand closer.
“Come on, soldier. Surely you’ve felt worse.”
“Yeah, maybe. But that doesn’t do anything for my anxiety over a needle that big. I’m already missing breakfast for this. Can’t you make it a little easier on me?” I was almost embarrassed to ask. Almost.
He snorted. “Alright. But I expect you to remember this little favor, if you follow me. If we get attacked …”
“Who’s going to attack us down here in this hole in the ground?”
“You never know,” he said, pulling out a thin green tube from a drawer behind his back. He smeared a dab of it onto his gloved hand, then held it to my open wound.
Instantly the pain vanished in the spot where he held it. Then, he spread the stuff across my palm like spreading butter onto toast.
I sat back in my chair. It had been a long couple of days, and the pain had been affecting me more than I’d realized.
“Oh, thank you. You’re right. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do.” He bent over my hand again and placed the first of the new stitches.
Now that the pain was gone, I didn’t mind watching him as he worked the needle in and out of my flesh.
“So, what is it with this place, anyway? Why are we underground?”
He shrugged. “It’s an old missile silo from the thirties. The bomb is defused, of course, but it’s still down here, to remind us I guess.”
“Remind us of what, exactly?”
“Of why we’re here. To remind us that our enemies are still out there. They might be different than the ones we had when this place was built, but they’re still there.”
“I wonder why they defused the missile at all, then.”
He smiled, keeping his eyes on his work. “I expect that, given your mandate for being here, someone or another thought that it wouldn’t be exactly safe to build explosives right next to a nuke. But that’s just a theory.” He glanced up and caught my eye, an earnest smile on his face now.
I smiled, too, for the first time since coming down that narrow hatch staircase. In fact, for the first time in what felt like a very long while.
“So, how did you get into this?” I asked.
“Same as you, I’m guessing. Joined the Service right out of school. Made it through my first year. After that, there were options for a small group of us, education choices that we could make. I chose nursing. Seemed like the least dangerous.”
“How long have you been in the Service?” I asked, frowning.
“Five years.” He plunked down his tiny pair of tweezers, bloody now, onto the small metal table sitting next to him.
“I don’t get it. Shouldn’t you be out by now? I mean, what about the stipend? After three years, you’re supposed to get your reward …”
He laughed as he carefully wiped the resealed wound with a small alcohol pad.
“Yeah, that was sort of part of the deal. We gave up the stipend in exchange for having a normal job. You know, something that wasn’t going to the Burn.”
“You gave up your stipend?”
“Don’t act so surprised. If you had a chance to work a regular job and make a decent wage, I bet you’d take it over battle any day.” He sat back and turned off the glaring overhead light.
Would I?
“I don’t know if that’s true.”
“You’re crazier than me, then. But, more likely, I bet you’ve been watching too many of those recruitment videos. I’m surprised. Most people would take safety and security over an uncertain payout any day. Especially, these days.”
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These days.
What was so new about them? Had things really been so much better back in the thirties? Apparently not. After all, they had built that nuke, even if it was never used. I wondered how many more of these silos dotted the landscape around here.
And besides, what was I thinking? My goal to stay alive and collect my stipend had been muddied by my involvement with the Volunteers. I couldn’t imagine that I’d be very useful to them once I was some rich socialite. Because, in the end, isn’t that what I would be? If I survived?
Suddenly, the image of the backside of Lydia’s head flashed through my mind.
No. Survival was unlikely. More than unlikely.
I wondered, if I stayed here, kept my nose down, if it might be enough to get me through my term.
It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing waiting for me out there. Not anymore.
There’s Alex.
Not nothing.
But the Volunteers were gone. My original mission had evaporated. It was all up to me now. No support. No allies. No way to take down the server buildings other than doing it completely on my own.
Impossible.
I would play the good student. I would learn what I needed to learn. And, in the end, I would try to implement it.
Against the Service. Against the government.
I may as well make it count while I was still alive.
Chapter Five
I knew it. The lights in the mess hall had been put out. I was too late for breakfast.
I sighed and made my way back to the bunk room. Everyone was assembled, including the rest of the crew I’d seen on my way into the silo. There were fifteen of us now. I wondered if anyone else was coming.
I looked around, but I didn’t see Alex. Emma and Jeremy were waiting obediently on their bunks.
“Hey, guys. It’s Soldier Taylor!” Hector called. I turned to find that eight other soldiers had joined the group. A few of them made their way over to me.
“Hi,” one of them said, a boy about my age. He stuck out his hand. “Jack Palmer.” I took his hand and shook it.