Youth Patrol

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Youth Patrol Page 27

by Andrew Lueders


  Val, who has had her head down the whole time, looks up. “Oh God!” she grieves. “Those poor poor people!”

  “People? What people?”

  “Can’t you see them inside the cages.”

  I move to my right and see a figure of man in one of the tubes. “Oh, shit,” I say. “What’d they do?”

  “Nothing,” she replies. “They didn’t do anything.”

  “Then why are they in there?”

  “They’ve been chosen that’s all. They’re running in the Salt Flat Races tomorrow.” She drops her head down again and marches up the path.

  I want to ask her what these Salt Flat Races are, but she doesn’t look like she wants to talk.

  We finally get to the hotel and enter the lobby. It’s hard not to be impressed. The marble floor sparkles a shimmering white, mimicking the actual Salt Flats outside. Romanesque columns stand tall, and the vaulted ceiling is painted with images from the Great Purge. The colors are bright and vivid; it’s beautiful. But the opulence leaves me cold, and I end up thinking this hotel is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.

  The soldiers rush us across the lobby toward the elevators. Workers, dressed in white, look at us strangely. We definitely don’t belong in a place like this. We’re covered in dirt and blood, while everything else is so neat and tidy. C’mon elevator, hurry up. The bell dings, the doors open and we step inside. Mirrors are all around. I look at the three of us, flanked by these soldiers; we’re one sorry lot.

  It only takes a few seconds to get to the top floor, and a few seconds more to get to Krog’s personal suite. We enter. It definitely doesn’t disappoint. The room is… or I should say… the mansion is enormous. A sunken living room, large windows and a spa are just a few of the amenities. The soldiers leave us, but station themselves outside the front door. As soon as we’re alone, I rip off the bloodstained sweater that Abby tied around my head. Val pulls off the beret and tosses the sunglasses aside. Candy flops on the couch and begins to cry again.

  I walk out onto the balcony and look down on the camp. And there in the distance is Brodie. He hasn’t moved. Well, he’s moved a little bit, he’s now seated in the dirt. I watch him and wonder what he’s thinking. I can’t imagine the agony he must be going through. The woman he loves is in the arms of another man, and not just any man, Krog. How horrible would that be? I thought it was bad enough when I thought Val was with Willenger, but this has got to be a million times worse.

  An aircraft goes flying overhead and lands near the hover hotel. Then another goes whooshing by and then another and another, more and more keep coming. They’re not prisoner transports; they’re too luxurious for that. They’re sleek and very expensive looking. People dressed in fine tuxedos and gowns of the highest quality step out. They go up the same pathway we came up. A finely dressed couple stops and looks at the prisoners in the cylinders, they gawk and jeer. Other patrons join in their fun. What the hell is going on?

  “Do you recognize them, Evan?” Val asks. I turn around and see her slide the sliding glass door shut. “Candy’s asleep by the way,” she says. “I can’t imagine what she’s going though, it must be horrible to lose your daughter.” She walks up to me and locks her arm around mine and looks down on the newly arriving guests. “That’s Congresswoman Jones and Senator Hutch, and over there is Ambassador Thomas. Don’t you recognize them?”

  “I do now. What are our elected officials doing here, Val?”

  “They’ve come for the Salt Flat Races.”

  “What are these races?”

  “Hopefully, we’ll be long gone before we see them.”

  “But you’ve seen them, haven’t you?”

  “I have.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “I’ve stayed in this hotel many times. Willenger would bring us girls here when he needed to pass a bill or needed more funding for Youth Nation. He’d invite politicians to join him in his room and us girls would have to… entertain. It got pretty weird, I hated it, but Taryn and Ashley loved it. I used to think something was wrong with me, but it wasn’t me, it was them. I was normal, they were the ones that were fucked up.” She sighs and releases my arm. She puts both her hands on the rail and looks out into the early evening sky. “Tomorrow morning, out there, on the edge of the Salt Flats, they’ll line up all those prisoners that were in those floating cages. They’ll force them into busted up old cars that can barely run. And one by one, each prisoner will race across the Salt Flats. If they can get across, they get their freedom.”

  “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” I say skeptically. “You’re leaving something out, aren’t you?”

  Val closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s horrible, Evan, what people do to each other.”

  “What do they do?”

  “They chase down the prisoners.”

  “Who does?”

  “Guests from the hotel. They pay big money to do it. Chasing religious fanatics is a very popular pastime for the elite. They have these small hover-scooters, with guns mounted on the handlebars, but they don’t do much damage, that’s not the point. It’s the chase, the thrill. People like to see religious fanatics suffer.?

  “Do any prisoners make it across?”

  “Never. If the prisoners get too far, or the guests fail to stop them, that’s when the real Hunters join in.”

  “The real Hunters?”

  “Yep, the Professionals, the Gladiators, whatever you want to call them. They drive around out there in the middle of the flats, waiting to finish the job. It’s not fair. Their vehicles are top of the line, tricked out with gadgets and weapons. It always ends up in a massacre.”

  “Why haven’t I heard about this place?”

  “Because it’s for them, the ruling class.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I wanted to, trust me, but you don’t talk about the Salt Flat Races, you just don’t.”

  “But you would think something like this would have gotten out into the public. Someone would have said something.”

  “People have,” Val says openly.

  “When?”

  “All the time. The Resistance hacks into the hologram billboards and broadcast snippets from the races. They show the cars crashing, catching fire, people burning. Haven’t you ever seen that?”

  “I have,” I say surprisingly. “I saw it at the last concert I was in. Was that from the Salt Flat Races?

  “It was. What’d you think when you saw it?” she asks.

  “I don’t remember, I don’t think I knew what I was looking at.”

  “No one does, that’s the problem. We see horrific images and we don’t do anything about it. We don’t even bother to find out. And the sad part is, I knew what it was, and I still didn’t do anything about it. If it doesn’t affect us, it doesn’t affect us. What’s wrong with us? What’s wrong with me?”

  Suddenly, a large aircraft comes flying overhead. It’s louder than the others, and fancier too, a lot fancier, and a whole lot bigger.

  “Oh my God,” Val whispers. “He’s here.” She opens the sliding glass door and walks back inside the suite.

  “Who? Who’s here?” I ask.

  “He is.” She points at the landing pad as the giant aircraft comes to a rest. The hatch opens up, and a team of Youth Patrollers come parading out. Then Senator Willenger appears. He’s here at Camp Utah.

  CHAPTER 48

  “Evan, get back from the railing, we can’t have him see you.”

  I walk back inside, close the sliding glass door and draw the curtains.

  “We’ve got to get out of here, Evan. I’m talking now.”

  Suddenly, the front door slides open. It scares the shit out of us. We turn around and see Brodie walk in. We breathe a sigh of relief that it isn’t Youth Patrol.

  “I saw him too,” he says. “I ran up here as fast I could. I didn’t want you two jumping off the balcony like you did back at Santa Verde.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” Val snaps. �
��If he’s here, he knows we’re here.”

  “Not exactly, Val,” replies Brodie. “He could be here for the pre-race dinner. You should know that.”

  “I would?”

  “Yeah, you used to come here with him.”

  “How would you know?” she says, looking at him in a peculiar way. “What exactly did you do when you worked for Krog?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No, should I?”

  “It’s probably better you don’t remember.”

  She cocks her head and stares at him real good. “Oh my goodness,” she gasps. “You’re Brodie the Bruiser. I remember you now. You were a legend.”

  “Hold on,” I interrupt. “You guys know each other?”

  “We did, a little bit.” Brodie says. “I was um, a different person back then.”

  “Yes you were,” Val adds. “A lot different. You had your face painted, right?”

  “I did.”

  “I still should have recognized you though.”

  “Well, you only saw me a couple times before I left.”

  “What were you?” I ask.

  “I was a Hunter,” Brodie confesses.

  “A Hunter?” I blurt out. “You mean one of those Gladiators you just told me about?” I ask, turning to Val.

  “Yeah, he was one of those,” she answers.

  “Those guys that kill the prisoners on the Salt Flats? That was you?”

  “Yeah that was me. How many times do we have to say it?”

  “No wonder everyone knows you around here. When was this?”

  “Mmm, three, four years ago?” Brodie says, trying to recall.

  “How’d you get out? What made you change?” Val asks.

  “Uncle Blake. I’d probably still be here if it wasn’t for him. After Kyle ratted out his parents to Youth Patrol, I was thinking of doing the same to mine, but I was already 16 and I thought I was too old to join Youth Nation, so joined the army instead. I ended up here and became a Hunter. I loved it. Then one day, Uncle Blake showed up and all the feelings I had of my old life came pouring back. I knew I did wrong. I told Blake I’d go back with him only if I could bring someone. He agreed, so I asked Abby to come and she did, and we’ve never looked back ever since.”

  “Goddamn you, Brodie.” I say angrily.

  “What?” he answers completely confused.

  “You’ve been giving us shit ever since Val and I arrived at the cave. You made us feel like crap because she was the Diva of Death and I was The Boy Who Changed Everything. But here you are, no better than us.”

  “Evan, this isn’t the time!” Val jumps in to try to defuse the situation.

  “No, it’s cool,” Brodie says. “Let him talk.”

  “How many people did you kill?” I demand. “How many lives did you ruin?”

  He stands there stone-faced, just letting me go off on him.

  “Well!” I say. “How many?”

  “Too many to count.” Brodie finally answers. “I murdered way too many people, I was the worst of the worst. Is that what you want to hear from me?”

  “Why have you been such a jerk to us, huh? Val and I were just trying to change our lives too.”

  “Yeah, but when you change, the whole world is turned upside down. My bakery is gone because of you, Blake’s dead because of you, and now Abby’s back with him because of you! So yeah, I’ve been a jerk, because of you!

  “Would you two shut up?” Candy’s voice shrieks out. We turn to look and there she is, wide awake, and looking angry. “Where’s Charlie?” she squawks.

  “He’s still at the hospital,” Brodie answers. “They’ll let me know when he’s ready.”

  “And you believed them?”

  “Yeah, they owe me.”

  “Owe you?” Candy responds harshly. “Owe you for what?”

  “They just do!”

  “You give Abby away expecting them to do whatever you ask? Do you do that a lot with her? Let her sleep with whomever, so you can get what you want? If I knew that was your plan, I would have told you not to do it. It’s immoral. If I were in Abby’s shoes, you’d all be dead. My body is a temple of God and no one is touching it.”

  “No one would want to, you fat ugly bitch!” I lash out.

  “Evan!” Brodie yells, shoving me in the chest. “She lost her kid today, she can say whatever she wants!”

  “Yeah, but–”

  “No buts… and besides, she’s right. I do allow her to sleep with whomever to get what I want. I even allow her to sleep with men like Krog.”

  “No you don’t,” Val points out. “Abby did it to save our lives.”

  “Did she? I don’t think she minds.”

  “You take that back, Brodie!” Val scolds. “She loves you; anyone can see that.”

  “She has a funny way of showing it.”

  “Krog doesn’t mean anything to her,” Val insists. “You should know that.”

  “It’s just,” Brodie pauses; he gathers his thoughts. “You know, me and her, we haven’t… yet. She’s done it with everyone else, but not me. I’m trying to be a good Christian man and wait for marriage just like Uncle Blake would want me to, but she won’t marry me. She thinks if she marries, she can’t do her thing. And you know what? She’s right. She’s saved so many people just by sleeping with the enemy. No shots are fired, no one dies and life goes on. The only casualty is me, and who the hell cares about that. It doesn’t matter anyhow, nothing matters.”

  “You matter,” Val says affectionately. “You matter to me. You’ve risked your life for us when you didn’t have to. I’m sorry for putting you through all this, I am. You’re a good man, Brodie, and I’ll always be grateful for that.”

  He wipes his eyes. He seems moved by her comments.

  “Listen to me, Brodie,” Val adds. “Listen to me good. Abby cares about you, she does. Trust me when I say this: what she does isn’t who she is. It doesn’t mean anything to her. I was forced to have sex with lots of people and none of those people meant anything to me.”

  “Then why does it hurt so much?”

  Val hugs him, but he doesn’t hug her back.

  CHAPTER 49

  Brodie goes off and slumps down in a chair. Candy paces around the room mumbling about her daughter. Val and I sit together on a love seat, anxiously waiting for something to happen. I’m expecting the worst. I’m expecting Willenger to burst in here at any second. So we wait and wait; it’s a long torturous wait. Thirty minutes pass, forty minutes pass; still nothing. Then, the doorbell rings. Brodie jumps to his feet and motions for us to get into the bedroom. I think he doesn’t want to take the chance that someone still might recognize us. We go in and close the door.

  “Yo Brodie,” we hear a voice say as the front door opens. “You’re friend’s all good. He’s waiting for you down at the Salt Flats.”

  “Okay, thanks man. We’ll be out in a minute.”

  As soon as the front door shuts, we come out of the bedroom. I go and tie the bloody sweater back onto my head, Val pulls the beret over her blond hair and dawns the sunglasses once again.

  “Alright everyone,” Brodie says. “Act cool and we’ll be out of here in no time.” We follow him out the front door and into the hallway. The soldiers, who are waiting outside, walk us to the elevator. They take us down to the first floor and through the lobby. No problems yet. We exit the hotel and out into the night. The storm clouds linger, blocking out any vestiges of starlight. We take a shortcut through the gardens, so as to avoid any guests coming up the pathway. We hurry through the army barracks toward the edge of the Salt Flats. Large floodlights mounted on poles illuminate the expanse. They shine across the enormous stretch of land, but the brightness is swallowed up, absorbed by the blackness of the night. The wind has now died down and there’s an eerie feeling of calmness.

  We find Charlie, standing alone just like the soldier said we would. He’s slightly slouched over, still in pain. Candy rushes over and hugs him; he winces. />
  A large flatbed truck comes driving up to us. It’s old, broken down. It looks like at one time it had hovercraft capabilities, but now it uses tires instead. A soldier, with a metal stud pierced through his nose, is at the controls. “Get in,” he says lazily.

  I walk to the back, but when I see what’s in the flatbed, I cringe. The truck is loaded up with old people. I’ve never seen so many in one place. They’re all huddled together, shivering in their old worn out clothes that barely cover up their old worn out skin. “Whoa!” is what comes out of my mouth.

  “Keep your voice down,” Brodie whispers. “Don’t make a big deal about it, okay. Just get in.”

  “Are they going with us?”

  “Yeah, Krog likes to do this.” Brodie answers, sounding resentful. “He loves to send over old people to Utah, he thinks its funny. He knows the Resistance will feed them, give them medicine, give them whatever they need.”

  “And you don’t want the Resistance to do that?”

  “It’s not that, it’s just that Utah doesn’t have the resources. Krog takes advantage of their humanity. He knows the more he sends over, the weaker they become. He keeps sending people who can’t fight or build or do much of anything. But the rebels keep taking them in by truckloads, knowing it’ll deplete their supplies.”

  By the time Brodie finishes talking about the state of the Resistance, he’s aggravated. He takes out his frustration on the latch on the back of the flatbed. He yanks at the handle when he probably doesn’t need to. He finally gets the tailgate open, and a stepladder drops down. “Just get in,” he grumbles. “Just go and live your life,”

  Candy, from out of nowhere, comes rushing over to the truck. “You mean we can go?” she cries out joyously. She steps up on the first rung, but then stops. She looks at Brodie. “I guess I should thank you.” But she says nothing more. She just turns around and finishes walking up the steps. Charlie shakes Brodie’s hand, then attempts to climb up the ladder himself, but he can’t quite make it. He stumbles, but Brodie’s there to help him up.

 

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