Kahayatle

by Elle Casey

  “What, you expected them to just come to the front door?” asked Winky, sarcasm lacing her voice.

  She hitched her rifle up on her shoulder higher. The flak jacket was too big for her, and the helmet kept falling down. Mine didn’t fit any better. We’d both been sweating our butts off for hours.

  A third alarm came from another watchtower on the back side of the compound.

  “Surrounded,” whispered Jamal.

  “Nobody panic,” I said, taking the binoculars from the nearby counter and putting them to my eyes.

  I saw nothing at first. But then there was a movement up the street from the gate.

  Red shirt.

  “It’s that friggin’ Robson chick. And she’s walking with a bunch of fat motherfuckers.”

  “Canners,” said Ronald. “Those are the only people with body fat on them anymore. Shameful.”

  “She’s a canner?” asked Winky. “Why’d she let us pass if she’s one of them?”

  “Wait,” I said, not sure what I was seeing. “It’s her, but … I’m not sure she’s with them.”

  Robson hadn’t been the prettiest girl I’d ever seen before, but she’d undergone a not very good transformation since the last time we’d met. The closer she got, the more detail came into view.

  “Oh, this is not good,” I said. “Not good at all.”

  “What? Let me see.” Winky took the glasses off my face.

  I looked at the twins and then Peter. “They must have taken her and her people prisoner. She’s pretty messed up. They’re marching her to our gates.”

  “Why would they do that?” asked Ronald.

  “To get us to surrender,” said Peter. “Don’t do it, Bryn.”

  I frowned at him. “Of course I’m not going to do it.”

  “But what if they threaten to kill them if we don’t?”

  “Duh! They’ll kill us all if we let them in, idiot!” yelled Winky. “They’ll just have to die.” She was getting hyped up from the pressure.

  I could feel it happening in my chest too, wanting to burst out in a fit of anger and fight. “Chill, Winky. We can’t get mad at each other, that’s not going to help.”

  “Sorry,” she said, looking at the ground and handing me the binoculars. “Stressful.”

  “We can’t let them kill any kids in cold blood like that,” said Ronald. “We have to stop them.”

  “The only way to stop them, is to kill them,” I said. “If you’re ready to do that, then get your butt out to one of those barriers and get ready to shoot.”

  Ronald opened his mouth to say something and then shut it. “I prefer to act as your guard.”

  “Okay, then. Just take your signals from me.” I looked at Jamal and he nodded. “Keep your shields up and your eyes open.”

  We all moved to the door. Another signal came from the first watchtower.

  “Two whistles. They’re within shooting range,” said Winky.

  “Let’s go out and see what they want,” I said to the twins.

  “Where do you want me?” asked Winky.

  “Stay here and watch our backs. If anyone gets through from one of the side gates or back, you take them down from in here.” I reached around my shield to grab hers and yanked it up. “Keep your shield up! Don’t leave your neck exposed like that.”

  “Okay, okay, no need to be so bossy.”

  “Do you know who you’re talking to?” asked Peter.

  “Oh, that’s right. Go ahead and be bossy. I know you can’t help it.”

  I tried to kick her shin, but she moved too quickly.

  “And where should I go?” asked Peter.

  “Behind the desk. You’re Winky’s backup.”

  “Seems kind of like the chicken’s position to me,” he said.

  “You’re the City Manager. If you die, all our plans for civilization die with you. You need to just stay safe.”

  He smiled. “You act like I’m the crown jewels or something.”

  “You are,” I said smiling back. “You are the jewels in the crotch of this mighty empire.”

  “You just called me testicles didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I think I just did.” I pushed open the doors to the lobby, stepping out into the humid air just as a slash of lightning lit up the sky not far away. The rumble of thunder followed about three seconds later.

  “Just a few miles away,” said Jamal under his breath. “What a night this is going to be.”

  “You aren’t kidding,” said Ronald.

  The twins lifted their shields and put them out in front. I stood in between them and did the same. Together, the three of us walked up to the gate to meet with the forward guard of the Bad Penny’s canner friends.

  ***

  We stopped at the fence, and the canners stopped about fifty feet from the other side of it. They’d neatly sidestepped all the traps we’d set for them, thanks to that traitor asshole Gail.

  “We’re here for the ball-biter!” one of them yelled.

  Jamal snickered.

  I nudged him in the ribs with the butt of my gun.

  “Nobody here by that name! Sorry! Time to go back home!” I yelled.

  “That’s not what we hear!”

  One of them pushed Robson forward. “Got a gift for ya! Little trade!”

  Robson took several steps in our direction. She could barely walk, she’d been beaten so badly. Her face was a mess of old blood and swollen bruised parts.

  “Ohhh, no. Baby girl, don’t do it,” whispered Ronald.

  “Robson, stop!” I yelled.

  She halted and swayed where she stood.

  “We don’t trade people!” I shouted.

  Robson lifted a hand and put it to her face, crying into it and dipping her head down a little, as if the effort of keeping it up was too much.

  “Robson does!” yelled a girl’s voice.

  “Oh, Lordy. That girl …” Jamal recognized her as well as I did.

  “Gail, this isn’t right what you’re doing!” I couldn’t see her. She was hiding behind a group of man-eaters.

  “You’re one to talk! That’s your ball-biter there, guys. Go ahead and get her!”

  Several of them ran forward.

  “Better stop!” I yelled. “Last warning!”

  They didn’t listen.

  A warning shot came from a watchtower and hit the pavement near one of their feet.

  That guy stopped running and froze in place, but the other one kept coming.

  A second shot rang out and hit the second guy in the leg. He went down with a yell, blood quickly pooling below him on the pavement. “They shot me! They shot me!” He sounded surprised.

  “Fucking idiot,” I said under my breath.

  A voice came over a bullhorn from up in a watchtower.

  Fohi.

  “Testing. Testing. Can you guys hear me out there?”

  “Who gave that boy a bullhorn?” asked Jamal, sounding mystified.

  “This should be good,” said Ronald.

  Fohi continued. “Hello, canners. Hello, Gail you sorry bitch. My name’s Fohi in case Gail didn’t think to warn you about me. I’m the munitions expert and armory manager all up in this hizouse. I just wanted to let you know that you are about to travel through a mine field, rigged by yours truly, not only in the front of the fence, but also …”

  There was a brief pause and some whispering before his voice came out over the horn again, but this time facing away from us.

  “… But also in the back and sides of our property. You see, the best part of a defense plan is one that is kept secret. And Gail, you were never in on my particular secrets, so canners … cannibals … you ugly motherfuckers who think eating people isn’t disgusting, wrong, and evil, better watch your step. Or not. I don’t mind if you blow your damn legs off in my traps. You’re just going to make me look good.”

  The forward movement of the group stopped. There was some arguing going on in their ranks, but I couldn’t hear what they were s
aying.

  Robson was looking at us and them. I could see she was weighing her options.

  “Oh, shit, she’s going to run for it,” I said.

  “You got the keys?” asked Ronald.

  “No, I don’t have the keys,” barked Jamal. “The point is to keep them out, not let them in!”

  “Robson, don’t!” I yelled. “We can’t open the gate!”

  She froze with one foot in our direction. The look on her face was a horror to see. She knew she was a goner.

  Winky came bursting out of the door.

  I could hear the jingling of the keys in her hand.

  Everything happened so fast, it was like my worst nightmare unfolding and I was stuck in mud, unable to react fast enough.

  A shot cracked out from the group of canners.

  Robson screamed, her body flying forward as she fell to her face.

  Blood spread out across her back, but she wasn’t dead. She crawled towards us.

  Several other kids were pushed out of the canner group. “Do the trade, Bryn!” yelled Gail.

  The four kids who were walking towards us now, Robson’s group obviously, were clinging together and crying, three girls and one guy.

  “Stay back!” I yelled to Winky. “Do not open this gate!”

  More shots were fired from the watchtower.

  Two more canners fell, screaming. One walked sideways, stumbling, trying to keep his balance.

  An explosion went off by his leg sending him and a blast back into the group of kids standing near Gail.

  Lightning struck the ground less than a mile away, setting fire to some distant brush. Thunder came right on its heels.

  More cracks of gunfire came from the back side of the compound and then the right.

  “They’re coming from all sides,” said Jamal, his shield trembling.

  We all screamed when a bullet smacked into Ronald’s shield.

  “Steady!” I yelled. “Keep the shields up and your heads down.” I put my gun in between my shield and Jamal’s.

  “Winky! Get back inside!”

  She turned and ran, her shield on the wrong side of her body.

  A shot rang out.

  Too late.

  I was too late to warn her.

  She fell when the bullet caught her leg.

  “Aahhhhh! Shit! I’m hit! Bryn, I’m hit!”

  The lobby door opened, and Peter came running out. He grabbed Winky’s shield and held it up in front of them both, letting her use his shoulder to get up on her knees. Together the two of them crawled into the lobby and shut the door behind them.

  Bullets hit the glass but didn’t shatter it; I couldn’t tell if they went through or not. I prayed my friends were okay inside.

  More explosions came from the back of the compound. The distant sounds of dogs barking came from the far side where I knew Paci had been.

  “What do we do?” asked Jamal. “Run or stay put?”

  “We stay.”

  I just needed the canners to get a little closer so I could take a few of them out. But the kids who were part of the treehouse group were huddled together and crying, and it was so distracting I couldn’t concentrate.

  “We have to get those kids in here,” I said. “Dammit!”

  The sound of a diesel engine came into range.

  “It’s a tank,” whispered Ronald. Then he yelled, as if he’d just heard his own words and their meaning had finally sunk in. “We’re doomed! It’s a tank!”

  “It’s not a tank,” I said. “But it’s not good news either. I think it’s a big truck.”

  I couldn’t see it, but I could hear the high pitched whine of its engine as it blew smoke out its stack. It was coming for us, no doubt about it.

  “No wonder they just stood there,” said Jamal. “They’re going to ram us!”

  A flame came out of the middle of the canner group and flew over the fence, landing in the middle of the front sidewalk area and smashing into a lake of fire.

  “Molotov cocktail,” said Jamal. “You awful demons.”

  Several more gasoline bombs followed, but none of them got near us. One landed near the lobby and my fearless buddy Peter opened the door with a shield and sprayed it with an extinguisher before going back inside.

  “Peter is a brave soul,” said Ronald.

  “You have no idea,” I said, so proud of him I could burst.

  “Open the gates!” yelled Gail. “Or we’re going to shoot them!”

  The kids in the huddled group started to run. They split apart at little, but all of them were converging on the spot where we stood.

  “What should we do?!” yelled Ronald.

  “Cover them! That’s all we can do!” I held up the gun and sighted down the barrel. Anytime I saw a kid lifting a weapon, I pulled the trigger.

  Before the treehouse kids got to the fence, two canner kids went down, either by my bullets or someone’s up in the watchtower.

  The first of the treehouse girls to reach us threw herself against the gate. “Please!” she screamed. “Let me in!”

  And then she stiffened and blood came pouring out of her mouth. She choked on it, and it splattered across our face masks.

  “Oh Jesus, Lord,” pleaded Jamal. “Please stop this madness!”

  The second kid to reach the fence tried to climb it. They shot him down in seconds, and he landed with a terrible thump on the ground near our feet.

  When the third kid reached it, I yelled, “Lie down! Don’t climb, don’t stand! Lie down as low as you can!”

  She dropped into the dirt without hesitating and pressed her face into the fence. “Please save me! Please don’t let them kill me!”

  Peter came charging out of the front door, shield out front and keys in hand.

  “Peter get back inside!” I screamed.

  “No! We have to let her in!”

  The diesel engine was getting louder.

  Rain began to come down in buckets.

  We went from cowering under a darkened sky to drowning in a deluge seconds later.

  The keys slipped out of Peter’s grasp.

  Ronald put his shield on the ground and bent down, getting as close to the fence as he could. He reached under the heavy protection and through the chain links, taking the desperate girl’s hand in his. “Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…” Together they recited the Lord’s prayer while Jamal and I covered Peter opening the gate.

  “The tank is coming!” said Jamal, practically crying. “Get her in here before it smashes us! We have to get inside!”

  More shots were fired in the back, and then some from what sounded like inside the lobby.

  I turned sharply to see if I was just hearing things and saw a flash of light from behind the glass.

  “Someone’s inside!” I yelled over the sound of the rain. “Winky’s in there!”

  Fohi’s voice came out over the bull horn again.

  “Heh, heh, heh … better run canners. You too, Gail, you greasy haired, beady eyed redneck dumbass. Triple Bar D’s all up in your asses! Wooo hooo!!”

  It was the next flash of lightning that finally made Fohi’s nonsense come together for me.

  I saw the grill of the truck headed our way.

  It was bashed up and dented like it had been in a smash-em-up derby, and it was headed right for the crowd of canners at the gate.

  They scattered when they saw it coming.

  Rifles picked them off one at a time as they tried to escape into the night.

  Several disappeared into the darkness on the sides of the truck, missing being run over by mere feet. Some weren’t so lucky. The truck didn’t stop for anyone.

  “Let me out,” I said, frantic I would miss the chance to save some lives. There were still some treehouse kids standing there, and they looked like they were too scared to move.

  “Come to the gate!” I screamed. “Come to the gate! Get out of the way!”

  They couldn’t hear me over the sounds of
the rain and the thunder and the truck.

  Fohi’s bullhorn came again.

  “Hey, treehouse kids. You want to get run over or what? Move, move, move! Get to the gate now!”

  They didn’t need to be told twice. Those who could, took off sprinting in our direction. The few who weren’t able to limped along, helping each other as best they could.

  By the time they reached the fence, Peter had the lock undone.

  I dropped my shield and grabbed onto the gate, pulling it for all I was worth. It flew open far enough to let the kids in. Ronald crawled out on hands and knees and pulled the girl who’d been praying on the ground in.

  “Close it!” yelled Peter. “They’re all in!”

  “Not all,” I said, smiling like a lunatic. “Just wait.”

  “Are you crazy?” yelled Jamal. “We need to get inside!” He looked at the truck and screamed.

  I smacked him on the shoulder. “Stop that.”

  He looked at me confused. “But we’re about to die. That’s what people do when they’re about to meet their maker.”

  “You’re not going to die. I know that guy.” I gestured to the truck that had stopped just outside the concrete barriers in front of the gate.

  The truck’s brakes engaged and a big shot of steam or air came out of somewhere. Then the door opened and a guy got halfway out.

  “Am I too late for the party?!” he shouted.

  “No, you’re right on time!” I yelled. “But wait there! We have canners on the loose!”

  “Not for long you don’t!” he shouted back. “Whoo hoo! I love me a round up, don’t y’all?!” He got back into his truck and honked the horn a bunch of times.

  Fohi’s voice came over the bull horn. “Haven welcomes … what’s his name again? Oh, yeah … Jackson! We welcome Jackson from the Triple Bar D Ranch.”

  Jackson honked the horn a few more times.

  “What in Jesus’s name is going on here?” asked Ronald, sounding totally confused.

  “He’s the guy we met on the highway before. The one with the big semi, smashing cars.”

  “Oooohhh, that guy. What excellent timing.” Ronald shot me a huge grin, showing off the most beautiful smile in Haven.

  “I’m sure he got a message from the Amazons just like we did. Guess he decided to come rescue us.”

  “Those are the kind of friends I like having,” said Jamal.