Living for War: The Collin War Chronicles

by W. C. Hoffman

  “Thank you all for coming this afternoon. I know you’re busy settling in or working, so I won’t take too much of your time,” Brady said. He paused and took a moment to really look around the room, making eye contact with people in the audience. “It warms my heart to finally see us together like this.”

  A round of applause thundered in the auditorium, making Collin smile again.

  “From now on we are one, Goshen and the Vipers united,” Brady said, raising his hands and bringing them together with his fingers interlaced. “Together we will rebuild this community to be stronger, safer, and more productive than ever. Viper carpenters are not Viper carpenters; they are carpenters for us all. Chefs cook, gardeners garden, nurses heal our wounds – all of our wounds – and of course, fighters fight.”

  Cheers erupted from all the soldiers in the room.

  “We have no factions now.” He nodded with a determined look on his face. “I know we’ve had our struggles in the past, and some people still feel hurt about what has transpired. The actions of the past were being manipulated by forces beyond our control.”

  Heads nodded in the audience, mimicking Brady.

  “Those forces have been eliminated. We only have one enemy now. A familiar name for those of us who remember the days before the fever. Hathaway Agricultural Genetic Sciences is our enemy. Like the day at the bridge, HAGS seeks to control us, to make us bend to their will. No longer!” Brady’s voice held power. “No longer,” he repeated as applause filled the air again and few people chanted “No longer.” Brady let it continue for a few moments before he held up his hands for silence.

  “And now, it’s my distinct honor to introduce a great man. A man you all know. My father, Collin War.”

  Brady stepped aside, clapping his hands and beaming at Collin. Collin walked forward and shook his hand, pulling his son into another hug. The audience cheered their reunion.

  “Great speech, kid,” Collin whispered to Brady.

  “I know,” Brady said, pulling back and winking at him.

  Collin waved to the crowd and pointed to a few familiar faces.

  “Thank you all, and thank you, Brady, for the kind introduction,” Collin said, clapping his hands for his son. He patted the air to calm the crowd. “Like Brady said, we are now one people united by a common cause, the safety and security of our future.”

  Gripping the podium with both hands, Collin met the gazes of people in the audience. He then improvised in the moment, deciding the podium felt too official. Too presidential.

  Collin removed the microphone and walked to the front of the stage, where he sat down with his legs hanging off the edge. He wanted to be close to his people, to be one with them. “Our lives together start now. We have suffered losses, not only in the past, but also in the last few days. Unfortunately, we have an enemy within, one who works for HAGS and seeks to disrupt our alliance.”

  Muttering filled the audience.

  “That enemy is Calvin McTavish, or Mac as many of us know him. This may surprise you, but he is a rogue HAGS agent. And a damn ruthless one at that. The other night I led a raid on his house after being threatened and nearly killed when he attacked Kobyashi and me at the hospital.” Collin shook his head. “It is a sad state of affairs, but we will bring him and his associates to justice.”

  “Due to these attacks, several people gave their lives in order to make today possible. I’d just like to share a few of their names with you: Sergeant Wilson, Specialist Simpson, Private Davies, Private Patterson, and Private Walter. All of them good soldiers; all of them fought for our union.”

  A few dozen people stood up and shouted, “Hooah!” in unison.

  Collin recognized the shout, but didn’t recognize the people. He shot a questioning look at Brady, who stepped closer and said, “It’s our way of paying respect to the fallen and honoring their sacrifice.”

  Nodding, Collin thanked the crowd. He waited for the soldiers to take a seat.

  “Okay, I’d like to call the attending Council members up on stage,” Collin said, standing and waving to the others.

  Julie and Tiny stood and made their way up a set of stairs.

  “As many of you know, this is Doctor Julie Horner,” Collin said, gesturing to her. “This is Brady War, and this is Tiny. Gary Kobyashi is also a Council member, but his injuries preclude him from attending today.”

  Looking out at the crowd, Collin continued. “For now, we will oversee Goshen, as many of us have for a while. There will be a democratic election before the end of summer to decide who will lead the town, but for now this is the most seamless way to move forward. Which leads me to my next point.” Collin found Hannah and Ketan in the crowd. “We have two special guests with us tonight, Ketan and Hannah, who come from Kalispell, Montana. Mac imprisoned both in his barn. Please help me in making them feel home here in Goshen.”

  As the audience murmured and turned to look at the newcomers, Collin took a deep breath. “Because of Mac and his recent vandalism at the hospital, we have lost many vital medical supplies. We require certain medical equipment to keep this community of ours sustainable. A select few of us will be making an expedition to Missoula to see what we can scavenge. If there are any survivors, hopefully they will be able to share information with us,” Collin said. He noticed more than a few surprised looks in the audience.

  “Sergeant Gibbs and Koby will be in charge in our absence. We will reduce the wall guards to two on the bridge, along with a sniper on overwatch. The rest of you will patrol, keeping an eye out for Mac and his associates.”

  Screams suddenly erupted from the back of the theater near the exit.

  “Oh my God,” a woman shrieked. “Fire!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Black smoke began to billow into the auditorium, rising to the ceiling high above them. Tiny ran to the front of the crowd, pushing his way through.

  “Goddamn it,” Collin muttered. It seemed they couldn’t get a moments respite. Then, into the microphone, he said, “Don’t panic! Make for the exits. Don’t run, don’t push.”

  Of course people were panicking. A primal part of the brain feared the idea of being surrounded by fire, and the flames were spreading fast. They licked at the walls, causing the paint to bubble and melt. Decorative curtains disintegrated and served as a ladder for the fire to stretch upward toward the ceiling.

  “The doors are locked,” a man shouted.

  Tiny emerged from the smoke filled foyer and shouted, “Locked. Someone chained them shut.”

  “Out the back,” Collin said, waving people away from the flames.

  A fire alarm began to blare, although it was little late. Everyone knew they were being surrounded by death.

  What happened to the goddamned sprinklers? he wondered.

  Sound proofing in the walls and ceilings began to melt as the heat rushed up, trying to escape the building. The ceiling tiles and acoustic panels began to liquefy and drip onto the crowd below, the molten material clinging to the scorched victims. Collin watched as some landed on a man, covering him in a sticky, burning gel like cheap napalm. His screams were horrific and short-lived.

  The heat inside the theater was incredible. Sweat began to bead on Collin’s head.

  “No sprinklers?” Tiny asked, ducking his head under the growing cloud of black smoke struggling to cough out the words. “Where do we go?”

  Collin felt panic rising in his chest. “IIs there a back door?”

  “All the doors are locked,” Brady said, running back on stage.

  “How can we get out?” Collin shouted.

  “Open the pit!” Julie said, pointing at the area in front of the stage.

  “Do it!” Collin hollered.

  Only a few minutes had passed, but they were quickly running out of time to escape. Another blob of burning foam dropped on a woman. Luckily, she pushed her child out of the way as she was overcome by the scorching material. Her dress burst into flame and she squealed wildly and curled up, fa
lling to the floor.

  Collin jumped down and ran to the child. The little girl was crying, her face streaked with soot, tears, and snot as she wailed for her mother.

  “Come on; I’ve got ya,” Collin said. The girl struggled in his arms, reaching for her mom.

  The floor began to open, tiles rolling back to reveal the orchestra pit. “Get in the pit,” Collin shouted, jumping in with the girl.

  He followed a green exit sign, hoping the door was unlocked. Collin had questioned the validity of a fiery hell in the afterlife, but there was no questioning this was hell on Earth. Even if he was going to end up in hell, this was not how he wanted to go.

  The group found a short amount of relief as the air in the pit was much cleaner than up above.

  A piece of ceiling tile smashed against the edge of the pit, throwing debris at Collin. He turned to shield the girl. Pieces of melting plastic stuck on his arm and shoulder. He growled and rushed for the door located in the rear corner. It served as the musicians entrance to their under stage performance area.

  “Go, go, go!” Brady shouted behind him.

  A cacophony of sound filled the air. The crackle of flames, rushing air, stomping feet above their heads, screams, cries for help, and shouting.

  Collin risked a glance behind him. He saw Brady mixed in with a rush of other people, and Tiny’s massive bulk in the distance. No sign of Julie.

  Stopping in the hallway, Collin pressed up against the wall until Brady caught up. He shoved the girl into Brady’s arms.

  “Take her. I have to find Julie,” he shouted.

  Brady shot his father a concerned look, but nodded and took the sobbing child.

  Collin fought against the crowd. Something crashed overhead, shaking the walls and reverberating down the hallway. He nearly stumbled to the ground, but the mob held him up.

  Tiny approached. “What are you doing? Go!”

  “Where’s Julie?” he asked.

  “I’m here,” she said, sticking her head out from behind Tiny.

  Collin let out a sigh of relief.

  “Hurry,” Julie said, urging them on.

  Tiny followed, keeping Julie behind him. She followed more easily in his wake. Collin led the way, once again moving in the direction of the crowd. Suddenly, things slowed down.

  “What’s going on?” Collin shouted.

  Yelling from up ahead. Then several people turned to relay the message.

  “Locked door,” said a man.

  “Oh my God, we’re going to die!” someone shouted.

  “No, we’re not,” Collin said, remembering the keys Koby had given him. If anyone had the key to the door, it was him. “Let me through! Move!”

  Bodies pressed against him. Enough space was made for him to turn sideways and squeeze through. The air was warming as the inferno raged above them; it smelled of sweat, fear, and possibly a tinge of urine.

  Collin saw Brady.

  “Dad, it’s locked!” Brady said, pressed up against the wall near the door. People were crowding the area.

  It looked like a green door. For whatever reason, certain public buildings had color coordinated doors. Collin made his way up to the door and told people to back up. If they were to pass through, he’d need space to open it.

  Fishing out the keys, Collin flipped through them until he found a green key that hadn’t been on the ring until its discovery in Pastor Pendell’s office after his death. It was absurd, but he chuckled in relief. Quickly unlocking the door, Collin moved aside as Brady and the rest filed past him.

  “Careful now. Don’t trample each other!” Collin said in his most commanding voice.

  The air behind the door was cool and slightly damp. A light, steady roaring sound came from within. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but for the time being they were safe and breathing easily. Collin had no idea where this new hallway led, but anywhere was better than the theater. If nothing else, the concrete walls and metal door would form a nice firebreak.

  “Thank you, Koby,” he said to himself.

  When Tiny approached, Collin pulled his sleeve.

  “Wait here. Help me with stragglers,” Collin said.

  Tiny nodded without hesitation and moved, allowing Julie to continue on. She glanced at Collin, but he said, “Go!”

  People rushed past him. Without counting, Collin quickly estimated that less than half the people from the audience had made it this far. He glanced up at Tiny, whose head was mere inches from the pipes that ran along the ceiling.

  “That’s it?” Tiny asked in awe.

  “Come on, let’s look for more,” Collin said, running down the near empty hallway. At a passerby he said, “Keep going! You’re almost there.”

  When the two men emerged into the room that held the orchestra pit, they were stunned at what they saw. Above them the fire raged, sparks floating down from fallen timber and melted plastics. In the pit were bodies in a jumbled pile nearly as high as Collin’s head.

  Very little movement could be seen and the heat was nearly unbearable. Still, they forged ahead in an attempt to pull out survivors.

  Tears in Collin’s eyes dried before they hit his cheeks. It didn’t look good.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Koby lay in his bed listening to music on the record player Collin brought over earlier. He sighed. He had ever envisioned himself spending time alone in a rundown hospital, especially not with half of his leg missing.

  Deciding he wanted someone to talk to, he called out to the Eagles who were stationed at the door, but they didn’t answer. Koby found that odd even though he was yelling over the sound of his own music and through a door.

  With the excitement of their impromptu karaoke party over, Koby was left with only harsh reality staring him in the face. Looking down at half of his leg, a nervous fear gripped his heart. How would he get around? Could he take care of himself? Stairs were going to be a bitch and working up at the dam might be impossible. Even getting around his own house was going to take on a new level of difficulty. The uncertainty made him furious. Koby clenched his fists and closed his eyes. He wanted to strangle whoever had done this to him. Whoever was responsible for his suffering was going to pay.

  The heat of the fury washed over him and he suddenly felt so alone. Not just physically alone in the hospital, but alone in the community. There were no other amputees in Goshen. No one to talk to or get advice from. No one who could understand the storm that raged inside.

  Beside his bed was a small rolling cart. His friends had moved the record player and all of his items to it before they left for the meeting. Koby briefly wondered how it was going, but then he just felt pissed off he couldn’t attend.

  Picking up the pad and pencil Collin left him, he began to sketch. At first it was just to calm his mind. He needed to think through this logically. The injury was a challenge, for sure, but it wasn’t the end of his life. Eventually he noticed his random lines were taking on a shape.

  Koby felt a surge of emotion and began to scribble faster and faster. The lead covered the page and soon he was able to see clearly what his mind was trying to tell him. It was time to invent, time to build, and time to design.

  The first sketch he made was for an artificial leg. Koby wasn’t keen on the idea of hobbling around on crutches. He needed something more durable and quicker, something that would make it easier to maneuver. Constantly having his hands full would drive him nuts. It was impractical. An idea had come to him and now it was there before him on the page. Crude though it was, he could see an evolved version of the design in his mind. A smile played across his lips.

  But there was more to do, and his mind was already churning through possibilities. The HAGS helicopters were a problem for the Eagles and Vipers alike. It gave the company a huge advantage over them, especially with that sonic weapon they had so callously displayed at their last meeting. Although HAGS wasn’t directly involved in his injury, he knew they were the root cause of his trouble. Koby wanted to hurt t
hem bad. Just like they had hurt him.

  An idea for a crude but potentially effective helicopter defense system came to mind. Using the farmland across the river from Goshen as the hypothetical battleground, which was reasonable since HAGS always approached from that direction, he began to take notes and draw out a plan.

  Using a sensor array made up of infrared motion detectors and alarms, they could rig the perimeter of the field with a warning system. He knew Mac had just the sensor on the light pole they could harvest for use. Use their own medicine against them ... He smiled again. Or ... a new idea struck him, and his smile morphed into sinister grin that curled the edges of his mouth.

  Koby leaned back and thought about the idea. He twirled it around in his mind as though he was inspecting an apple for bruises and worm holes. It seemed feasible, but the problem with the idea was he’d have to rely on others to set it up.

  Bound to the bed by Dr. Horner’s orders, Koby would be unable to even manage the installation and testing of the system he was designing. It made him nervous. And angry. Like a slap in the face, here was another situation where he was stymied by the assholes who blew off his leg.

  Koby hoped Collin would catch Mac and his associates and give him some time alone with them. Once he was able to get out of bed, Koby wanted to demonstrate the level of pain and suffering they’d so needlessly exacted upon him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Collin strode ahead while Tiny carried a young girl in his arms. She was burned on her arm and the side of her face, but she was alive. The girl was the only survivor they had found in the orchestra pit.

  A profound sadness filled Collin. All of the deaths were unnecessary. Just a terrorizing attack on civilians.

  Collin knew it had to be Mac or his associates. No one else would do such a thing. Guilt plagued him. If only he’d arrested Mac when he could have. If only he’d have killed Mac when he had the chance. If only ...

  Possibilities were boundless and right now, Collin had to focus on getting the rest of the survivors to safety. Then, he could focus on the hunt.