by James Hunt
“Welcome to boot camp,” Blake said.
“I don’t understand.”
“You were selected for security duty based on your evaluation with your interviewer. A couple other people from your group made this list too.”
“Who else?”
“Sam and Kalen.”
Mike’s heart dropped. He brought his family here so they could be safe, not to put them in the line of fire.
“My daughter does something else,” Mike said.
“No can do. All assignments are final. Here, your first stop is the range to assess your accuracy.”
Mike was handed an AR-15 with a full clip of ammo. Blake kept a close watch on him the entire time. The targets were spread out in ten-yard intervals. The closest was ten yards and the farthest was one hundred.
“You get three shots per target,” Blake instructed.
Mike brought the scope up to his eyes. The round bull’s-eye target fell between the crosshairs. He flipped the lever from spray to single shot.
He moved through each target fairly quickly. When he made it to the one-hundred-yard marker he had a little trouble, but managed to hit one bull’s-eye, and got the other two close to the center.
“What’s next?” Mike asked.
Blake made a few marks on his clipboard and nodded over to the hand-to-hand combat area.
The trainer was a tall, lean man with sweatpants and a shirt on. He was demonstrating a few disarming techniques during a knife fight.
After watching the instructor walk through the motions a few more times they broke off into pairs. Mike’s eyes kept finding Kalen, practicing with another woman. His lack of focus was causing his opponent to kill him every time.
“You two. Stop,” the instructor said.
It took Mike a moment to realize who the instructor was talking to, until the instructor started walking over.
“You need to be more decisive. Any hesitation and your opponent kills you,” he said, grabbing the knife from Mike’s sparring partner.
The instructor poised himself for attack, and before Mike could do anything he was on his back with the instructor’s blade to his throat.
“You’re slow, old man,” the instructor said.
Mike brought his knee up to the instructor’s stomach and rolled him over, struggling to get the knife from him.
Before Mike could grab the blade the instructor answered with a right cross against Mike’s jaw, almost knocking him out.
“You’ve still got spirit though,” the instructor said, extending his hand and helping Mike up.
Kalen rushed over to help steady him, but Mike waved her off.
“I’m fine,” Mike said.
“Dad, you’re not fine. You need to rest.”
“I said I’m fine.”
He didn’t mean for his tone to come out as harsh as it did, but he didn’t want to appear weak. Not here.
“All right, everyone. Back to your partners,” the instructor ordered.
The rest of the day seemed to go smoothly enough. There weren’t any more combat or shooting exercises. Everything was about strategy and ensuring the unit of men and women you were with understood each other’s roles.
They were dismissed shortly after lunch and Mike, Sam, and Kalen all walked back together. It was the first time they’d really been able to talk since this morning.
“Where’d your mom go?” Mike asked.
“Hospital,” Kalen said.
“What about everyone else?” Mike asked.
“Katie’s doing administrative work at some office, Nelson’s with maintenance, and Mary’s at the hospital. The rest were under sixteen, so they’re at the school,” Sam replied.
“Let’s grab Freddy on our way back,” Mike said.
When they arrived at the school the timid boy who didn’t want to be left this morning was replaced by a disheartened boy who didn’t want to leave.
“Can’t we stay a little bit longer? Ms. Franklin is so cool!” Freddy shouted.
“Yeah, Mr. Grant. When my dad comes to get us he can make sure he picks Freddy up too,” Sean added.
“All right. You two be careful,” Mike said.
“Yes! Thanks, Dad!” Freddy yelled, running back onto the playground with Sean.
“He seems to be adjusting well,” Kalen said.
“Yeah,” Mike replied.
“If they have any beginner combat lessons here you might be able to find someone more your speed,” Kalen said.
Kalen laughed and Mike chased after her playfully. It was nice seeing his daughter smiling again. He hadn’t heard her laugh in weeks. He almost forgot what it sounded like.
The three of them headed back to the hotel for a quick shower and ran into Katie on the way over.
“How was the office?” Sam asked.
“A lot different than the way I would run things,” Katie answered.
“Have you seen Anne?” Mike asked.
“No, not since this morning,” Katie replied.
“Did Mary and her sisters get set up in a room?” Kalen asked.
“Yeah, they’re on our floor. Don’t worry. We’ll keep an eye on them,” Katie said.
The guards were still stationed at the hotel entrance when they arrived. Mike hoped that after Kalen was done with training she would get something simple like what these soldiers were doing. Overall, aside from the sessions today, he hadn’t really seen the guards around the city do a whole lot.
He kept wondering, why all the training? Why have such a military presence? Mike understood wanting to protect what they were trying to rebuild, but he couldn’t figure out who they were protecting it from.
Anne was coming out of the bathroom when Mike entered. She gave him a kiss as she walked over to the dresser where her clothes were.
“I’m pretty sure I still smell like hospital food,” Anne said.
“Is that what they have you doing?”
“It’s not glamorous, but everyone was nice. How was your day?”
Mike rubbed his jaw. It was still sore.
“A little rough,” Mike said.
He sat on the edge of the bed as Anne dressed. They still had only the clothes they brought with them. He wasn’t sure if they were going to get any others while they were here, but that was the least of his worries.
“They put Kalen with the soldiers,” Mike said.
“What?”
Anne dropped on the bed next to Mike. She gripped his arm.
“Why?” Anne asked.
“It was based on the interviewer’s evaluation.”
“They can’t do that.”
“We don’t have a choice right now.”
“No!”
It was the involuntary scream that shocked Mike. His wife was visibly upset. He hadn’t seen her like this in a long time.
“I’ll make sure she’s okay,” Mike said.
“She’s not okay, Mike. She’s different. The things she’s been through, they’ve… changed her. Putting her in this ‘militia’ isn’t going to help.”
“Have you seen what the guards do here? They stand in front of buildings, and patrol the streets. There isn’t any fighting here. Her being in the guard is probably the safest she’ll be.”
“We’ve only been here for a day. We don’t know what they’ll do. We don’t know anything about these people.”
“Isn’t this what we were searching for? A safe place for our family? The cabin was always supposed to be temporary anyway. If these people have the power back on for an entire city, then it won’t be long before it spreads.”
She knelt down, grabbing his hands. He forgot how strong her hands were. When she held them, his hands didn’t ache. He drew vitality from them, the tremors faded.
“I don’t want to lose her,” Anne said.
“We won’t.”
***
Colonel Cadogan hit the elevator button, sending him to the top floor. Files were tucked under his arm. He was alone, as requested.
When the elevator doors opened he stepped out into the penthouse suite that took up the entire fiftieth floor. It was simply furnished, with only the necessities one would need for a single-person apartment, but had the open space only luxury could afford.
On the south end of the apartment the entire wall was made of glass, giving a spectacular view of the city, which Bram was enjoying when Cadogan walked up behind him.
“The files?” Bram asked.
“Yes, sir,” Cadogan replied.
Bram flipped through the pages.
“They arrived in vehicles?” Bram asked.
“Yes, their vehicles predated the use of microprocessors in engines.”
“Smart. Weapons?”
“A few automatic rifles, handguns, and shotguns. No heavy artillery.”
Bram snapped the file shut and handed it back to Cadogan.
“Any troublemakers?” Bram asked.
“Not yet, but we’re keeping a close eye on them, per protocol with new citizens.”
“Where are we at with recruitment?”
“The only recruiter we’re still waiting to check in is Cain, but he shouldn’t be much longer. Our other scouts have been scouring the north and we’ve already received word that units from Indianapolis and Columbus are trained and ready to join us.”
“Good.”
“Anything else, sir?”
“This Mike Grant that came in today. I’d like to meet him. Set up a meeting for us sometime this week.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That will be all. Thank you, Colonel.”
Day 23 (Carrollton)
The stacked cans of food and water seemed to be shrinking. It was all Fay could stare at. She knew she was thinking about it too much, but it was something she couldn’t get out of her mind.
There wasn’t another town for miles. She spent all day yesterday gathering as many supplies as she could and storing them in her and Jung’s rooms, but the bikers had picked over pretty much everything when they arrived, and what they hadn’t eaten was already spoiled.
The stress creeping into her mind was intensified by the knowledge that she wasn’t just responsible for herself anymore. Jung was useless. If she was going to keep him and his children alive she was going to have to do it herself.
They still had enough food to last them for some time, but there was no guarantee of it lasting until the power came back on.
She would catch herself looking down the road at night, toward Cincinnati, hoping to see some light in the distance letting her know that help would be coming, but she knew it was ridiculous.
If they ran out of food before the power came back on there was only one place left for her to go, but she refused to go back there. The last time she saw the Murth family they tried to kill her.
Still, she had to face the reality of what could happen, and she needed to start preparing for it now.
Fay picked up her rifle and walked outside. It was already midafternoon, and she knew the kids were probably hungry. She made her way down to Jung’s room and knocked on the door.
She didn’t know why she knocked. There was never an answer from Jung. She was just waiting for the day she walked in and found Jung dead with his kids crying over his body.
Jung was lying on the bed with his back turned to the door when Fay entered. Jung Jr. and Claire were sitting on the floor, playing with some toys that Fay managed to find to keep them entertained while their father was… nonresponsive.
“Hey, guys!” Fay said.
Both of them looked up at her and smiled. They were both young enough not to grasp the gravity of what was happening around them, but old enough to recognize that their mother wasn’t there anymore, and that something was wrong with their dad.
“Hi,” Jung Jr. said.
Fay was always amazed at how much Jung Jr. looked like his dad. Claire still couldn’t speak, at least not in terms of anything that Fay could understand. She put her arms out, wanting Fay to pick her up. Fay reached down and grabbed her, swinging the rifle out of the way and positioning Claire on her hip.
“You guys hungry?” Fay asked.
She tickled Claire and Jung Jr. threw his arms up in the air, waving.
“Let’s get something to eat. Do you guys like Brussels sprouts?” Fay asked.
“EEEWWWWWWW!” Jung Jr. said, sticking his tongue out and scrunching his nose up.
Fay laughed and Jung Jr. grabbed her hand.
“Jung, you want anything?” Fay asked.
She always asked, and there was never a response. He hadn’t said a word since Mike and everyone else left.
“I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen if you change your mind,” Fay said.
Both kids squinted into the sun. Jung kept the blinds drawn to their room all the time, so it always took some time for their eyes to adjust.
When they made it down into the courtyard Jung Jr. wrestled out of Fay’s grip and sprinted around the courtyard, jumping up and down, enjoying being outside.
Fay wanted to pull him back, but there wasn’t anything left in the town that could hurt him, and she hadn’t seen him this happy since they were at the airport. She didn’t want to be the reason the smile from his face faded.
Claire squirmed in her arms, letting her know that she wanted down too. Fay set her on the ground and she chased after her brother, her chubby legs unable to keep up with him, squealing in the delight of trying.
Whatever obstacles she’d have to face in the future seemed less strenuous. The sight of those kids running after each other, and the smiles on their faces, hardened her resolve. She wasn’t going to quit. She wasn’t going to fail.
It was the sudden sound of silence that snapped Fay out of her daze. Both Claire and Jung Jr. were standing frozen by the fountain in the courtyard. Fay turned around, rifle aimed with her finger on the trigger, and the figure she saw through the scope was Billy with his hands in the air.
Fay lowered the weapon slowly. Of all the people she thought she’d see standing behind her, he was the last she’d expect.
“What are you doing here?” Fay asked.
“I could ask you the same thing. I thought your group went to Cincinnati?”
“They did.”
Fay could see the rifle on Billy’s back. Even though her gun was lowered, she kept her finger on the trigger.
“Where’s the rest of your family?” Fay asked.
“At the farm. It’s just me here.”
“Why?”
Billy didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Fay knew why. Her finger slid off the trigger. It made sense. Billy killed his own father to save Mike’s daughter’s life. He helped save all of them, including Fay.
“I just couldn’t stand the way they were looking at me anymore,” Billy said. “It was too much.”
Fay considered her options. She could kill him, but then that might cause more repercussions with the rest of his family. As mad as they were with him now, she was pretty sure that his family would still be upset if he died.
“You planning on staying here?” Fay asked.
“I figured there would be plenty of space available. I don’t need any of your supplies. I’ll be fine on my own. I just need a place to stay.”
Fay slung the rifle back over her shoulder.
“C’mon, we were about to have some lunch,” she said.
***
The prayer beads were lying on the sheets next to Jung’s stomach as he was curled up on the bed. He was thankful for Fay. The burden of having to think, to act, to do anything, was lifted from him.
The whiskey was gone, but the numbness still remained. Fay had poured all the bottles she could find in his room down the drain, in hopes of snapping him out of the stupor he was in. It failed.
He would hear his son say his name, call after him over and over, shaking him on the bed. He could hear the desperation in his voice, needing his father to help him with something, but it didn’t matter how much his children cried for him, he
wouldn’t move.