“Pair of clothes and my sleep prep. I guess I'm gettin’ too old, huh?”
“Probably.” Xavier tried to sneak a look through the broken zipper, as they continued their conversation outside.
“You my guys?” A voice hollered.
“Simon?” Grant asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay...” Xavier's face looked puzzled with several pieces missing. This guy’s a Guard? Nothing about Simon gave a sense of security other than his black M4 rifle (one with all the bells and whistles) slung across his shoulder. This isn’t what I expected. Hardly the strong man that Haverty let on.
Simon was tall with spindly arms that would flap in a strong wind. That is, if his body didn't fall over first. The features of his face were full and oversized—a stark contrast to his frame. Deep pock scars spotted his cheeks with a redness only matched by his bulbous nose. His mouth struggled to contain his teeth when he spoke.
As he stood there looking at Grant and Xavier, he began pacing in front of them, looking them up and down. He guffawed. It was annoyingly loud and calculated—seemingly purposeful in its exact spacing between each outburst.
Grant and Xavier's faces met with disbelief. This just couldn't be real. This is who was going to protect them? Xavier lifted his hand, but Grant swatted it away before Simon noticed. Grant raised his eyebrows to Xavier, signaling to him to let it go for now. Xavier faced forward.
“Take this water and tie ‘em to your bags,” Simon said, as he tossed two jugs—one at each of their feet. “We need to get moving. Looks like those clouds are bringing rain.”
Xavier looked to the west as he bent down and collected the jugs from the ground. Sure enough, a pattern of gray clouds were hovering in the distance. He shook his head and wiped the jugs free from the dirt that stuck to the wet plastic. Grant reached out and took his from Xavier. The two of them ran the straps of their bags through the handles of each jug.
“Neither of you seem prepared. Why are you even here?” Simon asked.
“Doin’ what Haverty wants us to,” Grant said. “Nothin’ more than that.”
“Well, I'm here to do my job and nothing more than that.” He smirked and continued pacing back and forth, starting in on his lecture. “I'm not here to be your friend. I don't care why you're going. I'm just going to get you there.”
Off to a good start.
“You need to listen to what I say and pay attention to what I'm doing. I may not be able to get the words out, but if you see me duck...” Simon paused and eyeballed each of them. “Then you duck.
“I've been doing this for awhile now. Been on my own for even longer. This is an easy route, so don't embarrass yourselves. But more importantly, don't embarrass me.”
“You sure you wanna do this?” Grant asked.
“Questioning me?” Simon squared up to him, getting in his face.
Grant lifted his chin, staring straight into Simon's eyes. He began speaking slowly, “You're actin' like this is some big inconvenience. We can do this without ya if that's what ya want.”
“On your own?” He spun away from Grant and scoffed at the idea. “You two don't know the first thing about this. Why the hell did you think it would be a good idea not to pack food and water? You're lucky I'm coming with you two amateurs.” Simon laughed. “Alone? Ha!”
“We just packed what Haverty told us to,” Xavier said. “We don't want any trou—”
“The baby speaks? Should I have socked away some diapers too?”
Grant threw his bag to the ground. “Look boy! I'm probably twice your age. You keep this up, and I'll beat ya so hard…” Grant's tremors began to get the best of him. He worked his fingers in and out of each other, rubbing his knuckles in an attempt to hide it.
Simon ran the back of his hand along the stubble on his chin and snickered. “You nervous or what old man?”
Leave him alone! “He's got tremors!” Xavier immediately regretted saying it.
“They're sending a man with a condition, huh? This keeps getting better.” Simon’s shoulders bounced as he chuckled. “Look, screw it. I'm not trying to argue with a kid and a geriatric.” Simon looked directly in Grant's eyes. “Haverty commissioned me for this job. So... so let's play nice. Get this done.”
“To hell with you!” Grant said. “We can do this on our own.” Grant stared at Simon and picked his bag from the ground
“Good! That’s what I wanted to hear! I want to hear that resolve, that determination. Haverty told me to get you guys fired up a bit before we head out. Nothing personal.” Simon rubbed his hands together. “What about you, kid?” Simon eyed him suspiciously. He seemed unconvinced of Xavier’s abilities, acting as if he expected Xavier to say no.
“I’m ready.” Xavier adjusted his book bag. He tightened the lid of the water jug and shifted it to the bottom of the strap. “What do you need from us?”
“First off, enjoy yourself. Not sure how long it’s been since you two have been outside the wall, but this’ll be easy. Second, I'll lead. Stay back at least twenty yards. That'll give me a chance to give you some kind of warning if something's going on. Pay attention, here are the signals you’ll need to know…” Simon ran through some basic military hand signals with them. “Got it?”
They nodded.
“Don't drink all your water right off the bat,” Simon continued. “Don't be loud. If you're going to talk, keep it low. I got some stuff for us to eat, so don't worry about that. Any questions?”
The two of them just looked at Simon.
“Seriously, this is the time. Won't be able to ask if we're being shot at.”
“You think that will happen?” Xavier’s nervous words poured out. He hadn’t even had a chance to think them.
“No, but it's always a possibility. Keep it in the back of your mind. As we’re walking, run scenarios through your head. Imagine what you'd do. I recommend finding cover and running through the woods. You two aren’t going to be able to fire back. Just hide until the shots stop, then run. It won't be hard to find your way back here.”
“But do you think someone’s going to shoot at us?” Xavier pressed him.
“I told you it’s fine. I've been down this way many, many times. Nice scenic views. I only bring it up so you two have it in the back of your minds.”
Grant turned to Xavier and rested his hand on his shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“I know you two...” Simon looked around, rested his chin on his shoulder for a brief moment, and smirked. He ran his hands up and down his body, checking his gear, adjusting his equipment. His focus returned to Xavier and Grant. Something was clearly running through Simon’s mind, but what? His vacant stare began to move beyond them as his head curled to the right like a confused dog. A moment passed and then another. It became awkward.
“You okay?” Xavier asked.
Simon motioned for them to follow. “It’s time to go. Let’s do this thing.”
Grant nodded to Xavier and whispered, “We’ll be fine.” He gave his duffel bag a quick shake. “Alright?”
Xavier nodded, and the two of them left for the front gate, trailing Simon as they weaved through the large field of corn.
“We’re ready!” Simon shouted.
The large metal doors to the town began to rattle as the bundles of iron rebar squealed and scraped while being pulled through their brackets. Trees surrounding the area swayed as the birds, alarmed by the noise, took to the sky. The white tails of rabbits bounced back into the wood line.
Both Sentries pushed open the doors as Simon crouched down just inside the edge of the crops. Hidden within the stalks of corn with the sights of his rifle aligned perfectly through the middle of the opening in the wall, he prepared to move. Xavier observed him, taking mental notes as Simon moved fluidly from one position of cover to the next.
Simon advanced just outside of River's Edge, taking a kneeling position with his rifle resting across the hood of a burned-out pickup truck. He motioned for Grant and Xavier to take cover
next to him. They rushed forward, ultimately ducking behind two other vehicles wedged into the makeshift barricade that surrounded the city’s wall.
“Push the doors back,” Simon instructed. “We got you covered.”
The Sentries closed the gate while Simon maintained his watch over the grazing field. The Sentries replaced the rebar into the brackets—the scraping of metal briefly resumed, then stopped. The town was again secure.
Chapter Five
Xavier's old world lay before him. He looked out upon it, his feet planted where he had stood so many times before. If he chose not to turn around, everything appeared the same as before. If only I could go home. Actually, go home. His old world—the memories of leaving school, crossing the street to the worn path that split what was now the livestock's grazing field.
That field in the past had been nothing more than that... a field, overgrown with goldenrods and aster. Through that field, the worn path had led him and his schoolmates up toward the hills, disappearing between two tall oak trees whose branches formed an archway into the woods. From there, they followed the broken twigs of honeysuckle that tussled with the children's book bags as they ran past.
They continued over the dirt floor of the forest, their shadows blotting out the spotted sunlight that scattered in through the canopy. Their hands and feet gripped the exposed roots jutting from the creek's bank—acting as a ladder—assisting their way down onto a shelf of rocks and clay. A purposeful array of stones, resting just above the shallow creek's stagnant water, bridged the approach home. Careful footsteps across would keep most of their feet dry, but occasionally, a soggy shoe made it home.
The children's way along the trail turned and required a steep hike up a hill to the backyards of the neighborhood. A loud, familiar bark sounded out as they made it back to the street where they lived. They stretched their hands out toward the Kentucky split-rail fence as a sign of peace. Archie, Matt’s brindle greyhound, scanned them with his cold, wet nose. The kids checked out and were free to hop over.
Xavier’s childhood journeys ended there at that old wooden fence. Today, there wouldn't be any giggling, any smiling, or laughing with his schoolmates. He wouldn't be on his way home. Not a single footstep would be taken across the grazing field and onto that now, overgrown trail. Instead, he turned away from his childhood and toward downtown—a place as foreign as any in his mind. Nothing would be as it was when he was younger. Xavier hesitated, looking back to the gate with mixed feelings. It’s been awhile, but I’ve been through worse.
“That isn't going to work,” Simon called back to them. He was already a good distance down the road. “If you’re worried about anyone getting us, they would’ve done it when the gate opened. Let’s go!”
“You ready, boy?” Grant tugged at Xavier's sleeve.
They squeezed through the bumpers of the automobiles that encircled the wall—some of them burned out frames, but not a single one of them unblemished.
“Remember when that guy tried to drive his truck through the wall?” Xavier asked while pointing to the man's beat up Ford pickup crashed between a U-Haul and an old muscle car—its front end completely crushed inward. Bloodstains remained within the truck's cab, visually obscured from multiple spider cracks in the windshield.
Grant chuckled. “That was one of the few fortunate times we could laugh at an attack.”
“Yeah...” I don't remember laughing at all. “I was up on the roof that day patching a water tank with my dad. All you heard was a loud crash and then some gunshots. Dad hopped right on top of me, but I could still see our guys firing from the towers.”
“That maniac must've lost his mind,” Grant said. “Either that or he was tryin’ to get himself killed.”
“That’s a coward’s way out.”
“You never know what's goin’ through someone's head. We're a bit spoiled with this town. The world is harsher than ya know. It was prolly too much for the man.”
“Why do people act like I haven’t experienced all this? Like I didn’t live through the collapse with everyone else.”
“I'm not sayin’ ya didn’t. It’s— You’re comfortable with life again. This gonna be a good taste of the change. We probably won't see any action, but ya never know.”
“Yea…” Comfortable, huh? I hope something does happen. I'll show him. Just wait. Xavier looked over at Grant as they walked on. What could he possibly know that I don't? He's been in this situation just as long as I have. Whatever... Xavier pointed to his right as they walked. “I remember painting that.”
A beat-up mural of the Cincinnati skyline was fading from the corrugated metal of the town's wall. It remained barely visible from 50 feet, let alone a football field as it was intended. The only clear portion was just above the painting, the words ‘City of River’s Edge’ bolted to the metal.
Xavier gazed fondly at it. “Karen did most of the work. I’m not much of an artist you know, I actually think I messed it up in a few spots, not that you could tell now.”
“Yeah, ya prolly couldn't see what ya were doin’.” Grant smiled, but Xavier wasn't amused by the joke about his new glasses. He gave Xavier a playful push to the back, causing him to stumble forward a bit. “I'm only teasin' ya.”
“Yeah, Yeah.” He turned to Grant and tried to push him back, but Grant dodged him. “Whatever.” Xavier smiled and laughed. “We should try to—”
“Keep it down!”
They looked to one another and nodded. He's right.
“You know who did those letters—the words?” Grant asked Xavier.
He shrugged. “Dale, I thought.”
“Nope, he put them up. Come on boy, you know that's my work. Look how smooth it looks,” Grant kidded.
Xavier eyed Grant with his head cocked slightly. Usually he's riding me for everything. Now, he's joking and acting like a kid. “What's going on with you?”
“What you mean?”
“You seem… well, you seem happier I guess. Usually, you’re tougher on me, and now you’re—”
“Xavier, I gotta be tough on ya.” A fatherly tone. “I promised your dad that I’d watch out for ya. I told him I’d make sure every decision was in your best interest.”
“It’s just… you let Alex get away with everything. It doesn’t seem fair.”
“That’s not your concern. He’s his own man and you’re yours.”
“It just doesn’t seem—”
“Let it go. You’re here and he ain’t. Your hard work pays off. He couldn’t be trusted for somethin’ like this. Bein’ responsible leads to responsibility. It makes ya valuable.”
“Yeah...” Xavier couldn't keep his eyes from the school. Quick glances. His neck bent further and further around as the school shrank in the distance.
“Up around this left here ya ain't gonna be able to see her no more. Now's the time if you're not comin’.”
“Just looking.” Xavier straightened up, shifting his walk into a march, his chin up and eyes forward.
“Wanna be sure.” Grant took a quick glance back himself. “So,” he said, as he raised his hands up over his head, “what you think about all this?”
“What do you mean?” Xavier looked around.
“Bein’ out here. Seein’ all this. You remember this stuff?”
“It’s only been two years.”
“I know that. Wasn’t sure how much ya got out. Your dad's pretty protective of ya.”
“I'm sure that has more to do with my mom and sister than anything else. He wasn't always like that.” Xavier averted his eyes to the ground and began counting his steps, watching the imperfections of the road pass under his feet. The shoelaces bounced along with every strike against the pavement. These shoes are a mess. Please don’t fall apart. “I need some new shoes,” he said—his eyes meandering along the cracks of the asphalt.
“How much longer you got with those?”
“I think it’s maybe a few months.” Xavier whipped his feet forward as he stepped, exaggera
ting the flapping rubber of his sneakers.
“I wouldn't even wish those on Simon.”
“I would.” Xavier laughed loudly.
As Grant joined in on the laughter, Simon looked back, staring coldly at the two of them. There’s no way he heard that. Xavier gave a single nod to Simon as they continued on ahead. He tried his best to keep the remaining portion of their conversation to themselves.
For the last mile, Simon appeared to be favoring one leg over the other. His stride tilted with every step. The weight of his body pressed more gingerly on the left sole than the right. Xavier imagined Simon’s face melting with pain as each pulse shot through his nerves. This trip would be agonizing in that condition. Simon didn't seem to care, or at least, he never led on as such. He never mentioned it. His loyalty to the Second Alliance is what must have motivated his silence. He appeared to be pretty convinced of his duty to their flag. They didn't tend to deal with failure or dissent well, and Simon surely understood that.
“When's the last time you been downtown?” Grant wanted to know.
“I guess I was maybe nine or ten. It was the first and last time I ever went to a Reds game with my dad.”
“Used to listen to them all the time.” Grant imitated a pitcher’s windup. It was obvious he had never played. His arm bent at ninety degrees for far too long.
“You throw like a girl.”
“Like hell I do!”
Simon shushed them, “Quiet down, you two. We’ll be coming up on Route 50 in about a mile or so. You two can’t be making noise like that around there. If we’re going to be hit—that’s where.”
Xavier unscrewed the lid to his jug and sipped his water. He whispered, “Look at this place. It’s so rundown.”
“Watch yourself, boy.” Grant snapped. “This is where I lived.”
“Really?” Xavier raised an eyebrow. This place is a dump.
A swift wind moved through the blue-collar neighborhood that once bustled with industry. The depressed facades of the shotgun, row houses watched over the streets of Riverside. To be honest though, it hadn't changed much because of the virus. It had its issues long before. Its appearance now was only slightly worse.
Almawt Virus Series (Book 2): Days Since...Xavier [Day 853] Page 7