Thomas watched while he struggled through the stack. That kid has a decent job. I’m sure Joseph could handle something like that. An administrative job would suit him well. Eventually, the boy found the one he needed and hung it in position.
“Good work, son. Now, be a good lad and grab me some water.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy scampered off down the hall.
“Okay,”—Captain Abel exhaled—“what I’m about to share could be considered sensitive, so I don’t want any of this leaving the room.”
One of his subordinates took the hint and closed the door.
“I try to operate with transparency. I like my Guards to know what’s going on in our world… Just curious, who knows why I brought you here?”
Faces met with one another as everyone looked around the room, but no one seemed to hold the answer.
“Just me? Alright, well at least we’ve managed to keep this out of the rumor mill— it’s about damn time if you ask me.”
The entirety of the room politely chuckled then once again fell into an attentive silence.
“Well then, I guess we’ll get down to business. No reason to keep you sitting here in suspense.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “It's been nearly two months since the Butcher declined our offer and slipped away. Unfortunately, with his group’s nomadic nature, we lost track of them for a bit, originally thinking that he moved his operation closer to their headquarters up north. But, we eventually found out that was incorrect. Regardless, we knew the day would come when he'd turn up again in our operational area. The good news is a scout’s report came in late last night stating that the Butcher set up shop in Burnet Woods.”
Several men shifted in their seats. Collectively, everyone knew what this meant.
Here we go!
“Now, we all know we can’t let him continue with this operation. Negotiations failed, so there’s going to be a much different approach. A quick response with very few words, if any. The reason being that once news spreads that he's back… people will be flocking to him. It’s a certainty. We’ve already seen it happen.” He scratched his chin, taking a few seconds with his thoughts. “My only concern is that we don’t have an accurate timeframe on how long he’s been active there. He could be packing up as we speak.
“But despite this reality, we will press on treating it as if he had just arrived. The importance of ending his operation is twofold. First off, the damn guy’s a madman, and we can’t have him running loose in the region. We gave him the chance to turn over the women and to never come back. Obviously, he chose to ignore that offer. If his way of life begins to flourish, it’s going to make things harder on our efforts. We can’t have him recruiting people.
“The second thing is that we can’t afford to waste— Come on.” Captain Abel gestured to the boy peeking through the window in the door. He waved him in and took the mug of water, taking a quick sip. “Thank you.”
The boy nodded and took his place within the room.
“As I was saying, the second thing rides along the idea of wasted potential. These women that he traffics are wasted lives. What they’re doing isn’t productive for rebuilding society. It's actually tearing it down. We have plenty of shit that needs to get done, and we need the people to do it. If they can’t see that on their own, we’ll make them.
“I don’t think any of us believed it when the CDC said Almawt would essentially wipe humans from the earth, but as we venture further out, it’s becoming obvious their projection was accurate. Now let this sink in… We may be the only ones left working to restore order to this world.”
I just can’t imagine—
A crack of thunder and rain began to patter against the window sills.
“That’s kind of ominous, huh?” The captain grinned while looking back to his lieutenant. “You couldn’t have cued it up earlier?”
“Next time, sir.”
“Does anyone have any questions so far?”
No response.
“Then I’ll continue.” He moved from the podium and plucked a pointer stick from the chalkboard tray. The tip smacked against the map just over Burnet Woods. “He’s using the roundabout in the center of the park for the camp. The report states he may have fewer guards than what we saw last time, which means there may have been some sort of falling out over our offer, but we’ll need to confirm the numbers before we move on it. The scout counted between fifteen and twenty, excluding the Butcher and the women.” He moved to the podium and flipped a few pages further into the stack of papers. “There are two service roads that lead into the park, which they have blocked off with barricades made from partitions similar to some of our own.
“Noticeably absent from the report is an exact count on the women. We'll need to figure that out, but I want to point out that whoever goes up there should understand that some of these girls may fight—depending on how far gone they are—they might. We’ll see, but it doesn't appear that they have access to the firearms. However, keep in mind that once we hit their setup, we’ll need to be a little more careful about them. There’s nothing that’s going to prevent them from picking one up if they feel they need to. Be. Careful.
“As far as the Butcher’s concerned, he’s reported to be using the public restroom below the gazebo as his quarters. It’s private and out of the elements. That fancy bastard isn’t going to be walking around where he’s exposed.” He lifted the mug to his lips once more, gulping the rest of the water down. “We’re going to neutralize his guards, get the women to a safe place, and trap him like a rat. And just so there’s no confusion, we don’t need to take him alive, so if the team leader decides to just blow him up, so be it.
“Finally, ensure we take their ill-gotten goods. Take their trucks and load ‘em up with all the weapons, ammo, food… you know what to do.
“So… Now that I’ve sufficiently teased this operation to all of you, I’m sorry to say that we're sending only one of you.” He put a finger in the air. “One scout and one Guard will perform a more detailed assessment. The scout’s already been picked.”
Thomas looked around the room, but it was only Guards around him.
“He’ll be heading out today around noon with one of you and staying overnight. Soldiers from the Capital and an interrogator will meet with them in the morning. The rendezvous point will be the old EPA building just east of the park at 10:00. The scout team will be expected to have a full report of the camp's happenings. It will have more details than this initial report.” He shook the stack of papers before handing it over to an assistant. “But before I announce who’s heading up, I have to make a decision regarding our complement of Guards.”
Captain Abel turned back to the lieutenant. He spoke lowly to him. The lieutenant nodded and mouthed an answer while he scanned the room intently. His eyes stopped on Thomas. Damn… I know I wasn’t late. Everyone saw I wasn’t.
“Thomas Ricard, front and center!” the lieutenant snapped.
“Yes, Sir!” Shit… Thomas tried his best to subdue his concern. I wasn’t late. What the hell could I have possibly done to deserve this?
All eyes on him once again—none of their faces envious for what awaited him. He moved along the wall rather than try and force himself through the gauntlet of bodies between his seat and the front. He thought he heard someone mumble “poor guy” from a few rows over, but he couldn’t be sure. Another person snickered. One less person to compete with, right guys? Every man for himself, huh?
“Guard Ricard,” The lieutenant said, as he stalked Thomas, moving from side to side in front of him. “It’s no wonder you want to be a Soldier so bad—Guard Ricard sounds dumb. Are you dumb?”
Thomas looked at him for a moment and finally uttered, “No, sir.”
“Are you sure? You had to think for a bit there.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Then why are you late again? The second time in two weeks. Is this a habit of yours you’re starting? Is this some new thing you’re te
sting out?”
“No, sir! I don’t believe—“
“Then why are you so dumb, Guard Ricard?” He was now in front of him—uncomfortably close—his coffee breath penetrating Thomas’s nostrils.
“I’m not, sir!” His voice elevated.
“Why are you yelling at me, Ricard?”
Thomas looked him in the eyes but said nothing. I hate these games. I've already been through Army boot camp and the S.A.’s training. I don't need this stupid shit again. If you’re cutting me, just do it. Let me take Joseph and go wherever you send me.
“Maybe you are dumb... I asked you a question, Ricard.”
“I wasn’t yelling, sir,” Thomas stated calmly.
“I can’t hear you!” He shouted.
Thomas raised his voice, “I wasn’t yell—”
He shoved Thomas in his broad chest, making him take a slow step backwards simply to steady himself. “Damn, son. Where you from?”
Thomas swallowed the anger from being assaulted—unprovoked and from a man much smaller. He took a deep breath. If you weren’t a lieutenant you’d be on the ground. “I was born here, sir.”
“You’re as sturdy as a corn-fed ox.”
“I've heard that before.”
“Have you heard the folks saying your ass should be dropped from the Soldier Program?” He raised his eyebrows, his face steadfast, waiting for a response.
“Folks say a lot of things, I guess... Sir.”
“I don't really listen to folks, though.” He began pacing again. “I have my own opinions, but I have to know why you can't seem to be here on time.”
“I don't have an excuse, sir.”
The lieutenant’s face lit up as if Thomas had pressed the right button. “I like a man that doesn’t force excuses. Are you going to be late if I task you with the scout today?”
“No, sir!” Holy shit! Thomas fought back the smile that wanted to show.
The room began to grumble.
“Quiet down!” Captain Abel shouted.
Their frustration was understandable. Thomas knew each Guard that sat within the room wanted the opportunity for the Soldier's patch. These opportunities waned as the grasp of the Second Alliance over the region continued to tighten. It was on the fringes of their territory that experience was earned. But L.P.H. Fortress was very much centralized.
“Anybody wants to say something they better speak up now.” The captain stood before a hushed room. “Good. These aren’t your decisions to make. I don’t want to hear any bullshit like that again. Good-bye!” He exited, and the room was called to attention once more.
Thomas turned to file out with the others, but the Lieutenant blocked his path “Hang tight.”
At the extent of Thomas’s periphery, he saw the jealous eyes that leered at him. A few muffled “lucky bastards” and “bullshits” later and Thomas stood as the only Guard remaining in the room. I deserve this. I’m not going to feel guilty.
“Come with me.” The lieutenant led him to the windows that faced eastward toward downtown and rested a hand on his shoulder while he spoke. Thomas repressed the feeling of ill-will toward the man that had shoved him only minutes ago. Rank oftentimes protected people from what they deserved, and Thomas knew not to jeopardize this blessing with any shortsighted remark or retaliation.
Thomas slid away from the lieutenant, not in an obvious manner, but playing it as if he saw something of interest out the window. He searched for something to say, but the lieutenant filled the lull. “Look out there. Look at all these people—all we’ve done. This is what we work so hard to protect. It's our way of life, the way we do things. Under all God's sky, everyone deserves a chance at this.” He continued on in this manner as Thomas stared off into the world.
The lieutenant’s words seemed to contradict everything that had occurred in the past two years since he returned from the war. Everyone deserves a chance at this? Everyone deserved a chance to live, but most of us didn’t.
Everything in the far-off distance appeared as it always had. It was as if man simply decided to leave everything behind—packed up and turned off all the lights—never to return. Houses and buildings still stood. Trees and grass still grew. There hadn’t been some spectacular event that took man with one swell swoop. Nothing close to that. Man hadn’t been that lucky. The Almawt virus ensured there was plenty of suffering.
Of course things could be worse for us now… A faint smile began to appear as he watched the town accomplish its efficiency. Every facet of life was contained here—grown and produced here. This actually is pretty damn amazing.
Along the street, two platoons of young children marched through the downpour, disciplined and moving as one, much better than he had seen during his Army days. And further beyond them, abutting the Mill Creek, from the viaduct to the highway, lay a vast field. Small hands worked the dirt—digging, plowing, scraping to ensure this year’s crop served the population.
All these children accomplished so much, completely clueless to how truly astonishing the feat they achieved really was. They did all this in the face of a crumbling world—in the face of all the tragedy surrounding them. These kids were the future of the Second Alliance—of the world.
The change of tone in the lieutenant’s rambling brought Thomas from his thoughts. “I know why you’re late, and so does the captain. We get it. Your little brother takes some time. We don’t hold it against you. Some of your teammates might, but we don't. You're a fine specimen of a man, and we're excited to see you perform.”
“I'm excited for the opportunity, sir.”
“This will be your trial.” He wetted his lips. “Officially, this is it. You’re in charge of the operation even when the Soldiers get there. You served in Syria. I’ve seen your skillset. No one should give you any grief about leading this thing as a Guard.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you understand what happens if you should fail?”
“It won't happen.”
“But if it does, do you know what happens?”
“Joseph and I will be transferred.”
“Not Joseph. Just you.”
“What—Why? I…” Thomas’s chest tightened. “Sir? I—I don’t understand. He’s my brother. He has to come with me.”
“It’s not a possibility, not in the slightest. Once removed from the Soldier Program, you'll be transferred, but he’ll have to stay here. We'll have to begin grooming him for his life.”
“That...”
“I understand your concern, but it’s not up for debate. So, if you’re successful—“
“Sir, I don’t have a choice. It’s when, not if.”
He smiled smugly. “Like I said, if you make it. If that happens, you'll be able to write your own ticket.”
“Then I don't want Joseph to have to do the cadet program.” The request rolled unflinchingly from his lips.
“As a Soldier, we could make that happen, but you have to get there first.”
Thomas nodded. I promised your parents I wouldn’t lose you, Joseph.
The lieutenant glanced at his wristwatch. “Not to be rude, but I don’t have all day here. You have permission to dump the gravel out of your ruck and load it up with the equipment you're going to need. The scout will meet you at your apartment when he’s ready, so take a few and relax.
“Yes, sir.” Thomas snapped to attention and offered a crisp salute followed by a handshake. “I won't fail.”
Chapter Two
Thomas stepped through the outer door of the school and onto the landing at the top of the stairs. He shared the flat with another man who hadn’t seemed to notice Thomas’s presence—the two of them simply sharing the overhang in silence, waiting for the rain to pass. The man tucked himself into a corner with only his back exposed. It wasn't until the wind died down and the man spun back toward him that Thomas realized he was preoccupied with a cigarette.
He eyed Thomas guardedly as if he had only appeared to pluck this treasure from between his
lips. It was only a nub, perhaps only enough for a quick drag. In years past, it wouldn't have been worth the trouble. But man, I could really use one of those right now. The man shielded the cigarette again, trying like hell to get the flame of his lighter to hold steady. He muttered to himself, cursing and begging it to work. Only after the end lit red and the man dropped his hands to tuck the lighter into his pocket did Thomas notice it was another lieutenant. He'd already had enough with lieutenants this morning.
The flat began to stink of cigarettes, renewing his once dormant craving for nicotine. I’ve got to get away from him before I lose my mind any more than I already have. He descended the stairs, unfazed by the storm that had faded to a light drizzle—his thoughts muting the environment around him.
He despised these days—unable to tend to Joseph like he wanted. And although over time, it seemed Joseph grew accustomed to these spontaneous calls to duty, it didn’t suppress Thomas’s guilt. No matter how much Joseph smiled through these absences, it never became any easier for Thomas. He could only hope at some point it would stop. But could it? Maybe he had journeyed too far down this path and there was no longer a chance of ever circling back.
Thomas knew by becoming a Soldier there would be interruptions—at times extending beyond a normal shift, perhaps into days. That would be hard enough on Joseph. But if the unthinkable occurred and Thomas failed his trial, then his relationship with the boy would immediately be severed. The only way to guarantee any sense of normalcy was to forge ahead. Not that failure presented itself as an option before, but now Thomas would feel the added pressure in his gut until this mission ended. Now, he could only think of Joseph—only his fate mattered at the end of this trial.
While looking to his left, Thomas spotted a small group of disgruntled Guards eyeing him from under a canopy at the supply depot. They greeted him with a middle finger and stepped off—a few of them exchanged fist bumps and laughed. All Thomas could do was smile and shake his head. I have bigger issues to deal with than you dumbasses. Keep being miserable. Just days ago we were working together, but now because I get this opportunity… Whatever.
Days Since...: Thomas: Day 758 (Almawt Virus Series Book 1) Page 2