Children of Wrath

by Ryan King

  "Sure," said Zeke, his smile slipping a little. "You need anything, just ask."

  "I will," said Jacob, turning away. "You have a good night."

  Even though Jacob's haul had been extraordinary to Zeke, the shock would have been greater if he had seen what hadn't been turned in. Jacob found it much easier to find good stuff wherever the people were. Why go sifting through piles of trash for useful items when other people had already done that? All you had to do was take their stuff.

  Jacob set his backpack on the handlebars of the bicycle he'd been given as a scavenger and walked swiftly toward the chow hall line. He thought he could smell peanut butter. It had been forever since he'd had peanut butter.

  As he was parking his bike, he heard a low deep rumble behind him. Jacob turned slowly to see Cujo standing there, his head low and teeth bared. A thin ridge of hair stood between the dog’s muscled shoulders.

  "I don't think he likes you," said a voice to his left.

  Jacob looked over at Jim Meeks with horror in his eyes. The last time he'd seen the man had been as he was leaving Hancock Prison. Even then, he'd gotten the distinct impression the big man would like to do him harm.

  "Come on now, boy," said Jim, grabbing the dog by his collar and ruffling Cujo's massive head before looking back at Jacob.

  "Thanks. I'm not really a dog person."

  Jim eyed him closely. "I'm not sure we've met before. My name is Jim. What's yours?"

  "Uriel," answered Jacob, trying to be anywhere but where he was.

  "That's a strange name," Jim said.

  Jacob just laughed nervously and shrugged.

  "Maybe we have met before," Jim said.

  "I don't think so," said Jacob.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Look, mister," said Jacob, trying to cloak his fear in irritation. "I'm really hungry, and if I don't get in line, I'm likely to miss dinner."

  "Sure," said Jim, pulling Cujo back toward the goats. "See you around."

  Jacob nodded and pushed forward, trying to walk normally. He stowed his pack behind the building, picked up a tray, and stepped in line. A few minutes later, he ventured a glance back down the hill.

  Jim Meeks and Cujo were both still there staring at him suspiciously.

  Chapter 19 - Hole in the Ground

  Joshua was beginning to strongly suspect this wasn't a dream, after all. Even the worst nightmares eventually ended.

  He was feeling well enough to worry about Alexandra and what she might think of him now. Both of them had sort of fallen in together by accident and been surprised by how well they had fit together as a couple. Joshua didn't know yet if it was serious, but it was the closest he had ever come to what his parents had. Now, what girl would want to be with him, scarred and burned like some sort of monster?

  Henry and Aaron prodded and harassed him to keep moving and moving. All he wanted to do was lay down and sleep. More proof this isn't a dream, he reasoned. Occasionally, he could hear men and see faint lights in the distance. When this happened, Henry and Aaron would get worried looks on their faces and crouch down in the tall grass.

  Joshua would take these opportunities to close his eyes and drift off. When they shook him awake, he wanted it all to end so badly that he considered yelling out to the searchers, but he was too tired even to speak, much less call out to anyone.

  "Guess that bloke I stuck in Joshua's cell didn't fool them for long," commented Henry during one of their breaks before they started off again.

  Even in his current state, Joshua sensed they were not running in a straight line, nor directly east. He figured that was smart. Conrad and Vincent would check in that direction first. But where could they possibly go? Come daylight, they would be sitting ducks unless they found a good place to hide out.

  An orange glow was beginning to show on the horizon when they stopped next. A few birds were awakening and singing their morning songs.

  "They still back there?" asked Henry.

  "Yeah," said Aaron, "but pretty far. I see a light, but it's sweeping back and forth like they're searching."

  "How do they know to come this way?" asked Henry angrily. "They don't have dogs, and we could have gone anywhere. It's not like they have the personnel to search the entire countryside."

  "Maybe they got trackers or something," offered Aaron. "Could be following our trail."

  "Could be...simpler...than that," whispered Joshua weakly.

  Henry leaned down and put his ear close. "Say what?"

  "This is...their...country," he answered. "We probably...fled along the...an easy route. Might want to...make it...tough on...them."

  "He might have a point," whispered Aaron.

  Henry looked around. "But where the hell are we supposed to go? There's no—" he stopped and held up his hand. "You hear that?"

  "What?" asked Aaron.

  "A voice," said Jacob weakly.

  "A voice," answered Henry.

  Joshua turned his head toward the sound. It was coming from the opposite direction of their followers. "A woman's voice," he said.

  Henry looked from the new voice and back at their followers. He seemed uncertain.

  Joshua kicked out at Henry, and when he got his attention, he pointed a few times toward the sound of the woman's voice.

  Henry looked at Aaron questioningly.

  "I don't have any ideas," said Aaron.

  Henry sighed. "All right then. We'll move in that direction and check it out, but go slow and stay quiet."

  Joshua gave him a weak thumbs-up and followed the two men with a mixed shuffle crouch step that an observer would have described as a drunken gorilla stumble.

  They moved carefully up toward the sound. Fortunately, they came out of the woods into an open field so the tall grass softened the sound of their approach. When they saw a flashlight beam ahead, Henry held up his hand again, and they all got on the ground. He then gave them the signal to crawl forward, which they did.

  Joshua debated just staying put and resting, but he saw Henry and Aaron stopped about twenty feet in front of him and the curiosity was just too great. He laboriously moved forward, wincing with every contact of the ground. Moving up between the two men, he looked down a small slope at a curious sight.

  Three figures stooped over a square hole in the ground. One man stood looking at the tree line with a shotgun. Another had the entire upper part of his body down in the hole. A woman held a flashlight pointed into it.

  "It's the fuse I tell you," she whispered.

  "Can't be," said a male muffled voice. "I done checked 'em all."

  The woman moved the flashlight to point in another direction in the hole. "Maybe a lead has come lose somewhere."

  "We would have gotten the warning light on the board inside," answered the man in the hole.

  The man with the shotgun moved over toward them and hissed, "They're getting closer. You two can wrap this up any time now."

  "Look," said the woman, "right there." She was indicating something with the flashlight.

  "I see it," said the man in the hole. "It's a compressor."

  "The belt is off of it," she said evenly. "You said you checked it."

  "Nooo," said the man, "you said we should check it, and I agreed with you. I presumed you checked it."

  "Any time now," said the man with the shotgun.

  "I thought you were supposed to be a mechanic," the woman said as she reached down to help.

  The man grunted with effort. "I'm a boat engine mechanic. Told 'em that when they hired me. This is totally different." He then pulled himself out. "Good to go." He reached over and picked up a three-foot square approximately four inches thick. One side was covered with grass. The other appeared to be vent grille. The man brushed off the vent side and then eased one edge into its frame and lowered the other until only a few inches remained open.

  "Ready?" the woman asked, sticking her arm in the hole. She then did something to the machine and a small hum emerged.

  The ma
n lowered the grill quickly, and it was silent again.

  "About freaking time," said the man with the shotgun. "Can we please go now?"

  "Not so fast," said Henry, who had stood from his position.

  Joshua was startled, for he had not seen Henry move. Evidently, so were the three in front of them.

  The woman shined a light on Henry and then said quickly to the man with the shotgun, "Don't shoot."

  "Good advice," said Henry. "We don't want those men over there to find us any more than you want them to find you."

  The man with the shotgun eyed Henry closely, "Missouri Alliance, huh?"

  "No," said Henry, "we got captured and are trying to escape."

  "They're getting closer," the man with the shotgun said. "Turn off the light."

  The woman did, and it was dim again, although they could all see each other faintly in the glow of the rising sun.

  "Well, best of luck to you," said the man with the shotgun. "We actually have some place we need to be."

  "You're going to take us with you," said Henry.

  "Who is us?" asked the woman.

  "Me," said Aaron, coming up on the other side of the man with the shotgun. "I've also got a gun and it's pointed at your man. No need to turn on the flashlight to verify."

  "What do you want?" asked the woman.

  "We need help," croaked out Joshua as loudly as he could.

  The woman moved toward Joshua. Henry stepped in front of her, but she ignored him and looked down on the horror in the grass.

  "Oh my god," she said, putting a hand over her mouth.

  "We can't take you with us," said the mechanic. "It's against the rules."

  The man with the shotgun started walking backward, "We're going to leave now and you're going to go on your way."

  "Stop," hissed Aaron, "or we'll shoot."

  The man with the shotgun shook his head. "I don't believe you will."

  "Maybe not," said Henry, "but if we don't come along, they'll catch us for sure."

  "Awful sorry," said the mechanic, "but not our problem. We got families to think of."

  "It will be your problem if we show them that hole in the ground," said Henry.

  The man with the shotgun stopped moving. "You son of a bitch. Do you have any idea what you're screwing up?"

  "I don't care," said Henry. "Take us with you. Now."

  "We have no choice, Kenneth," said the woman.

  Kenneth bared his teeth at them and then turned. "Come on," he said over a shoulder.

  Henry and Aaron each grabbed Joshua by an armpit and half dragged him forward. The three were almost out of sight, and the men turned on an extra burst of speed. They caught up with them just as they were pulling up on something from the flat ground.

  Soundlessly, a rectangular edge five feet wide and about seven feet long lifted up out of the ground while its base remained flush with the surrounding grass.

  "Watch your step," said the woman. "We can't use lights with them this close."

  They carried Joshua forward and down concrete stairs. The light dimmed and then went out completely as the rectangle was pulled back closed. A series of latches sounded as if they were fitted in place.

  The woman turned on her flashlight to reveal a small room at the base of the stairs. Opposite the stairs was a large metal door reminiscent of a watertight warship hatch. Along the walls were empty dusty shelves. She walked over to the intercom to the right of the door and pressed a button.

  "Genesis, this is Meryl," she said. "Repairs complete. Unknown number of hostiles to the west, but we weren't compromised. Six to enter the vault. Red light on."

  There was a long pause, and the mechanic dropped his head and grumbled under his breath until a sharp look from the woman shut him up.

  A pneumatic whine from inside the wall preceded a sharp metal sound. Meryl pulled the door open and stepped through. The rest followed her, with Aaron helping lift Joshua over the hatch's lip and then leaning him against the wall. Meryl then pulled the door shut and turned a latch. The pneumatic sound came again before another clank of metal. Then the room went black for a full three seconds before a dim red light illuminated the room.

  "What the hell does that mean?" asked Henry, pointing at the light with his rifle.

  "It means," croaked the mechanic, "that I won't be making it in to eat breakfast with the missus. Thanks a lot."

  Kenneth set his shotgun against the wall and slid to the floor beside it. "We're sealed up in here now. There's no way to get through either one of those doors while the red light is on."

  "What does the red light mean?" asked Aaron, looking a little afraid.

  "It means," said Meryl, "that we have unwanted visitors who are holding us hostage."

  "We are not," protested Henry.

  Meryl shrugged. "A technicality. Bottom line is we can't let you in there with weapons. We'll probably need to tie you up and blindfold you too."

  "Bullshit," said Aaron. "I'm not being tied up. No, sir."

  Meryl slid to the floor and closed her eyes as if she were going to sleep.

  "How would they know?" asked Henry.

  "Know what?" she asked.

  "If we gave up the weapons," said Henry, fingering his rifle. "Couldn't we just make you tell them we're tied up and harmless?"

  The mechanic pointed to the corners of the room. "They're watching us."

  "I can't see anything," Aaron said, straining his eyes.

  "Pinhole cameras," Meryl said. "They can hear us too by the way."

  "What is this place?" asked Henry.

  "Only one way to find out," answered Meryl, "and that is to go inside. And there's no way you're getting inside unless you do what we say."

  "How do we know," asked Aaron, "that once we give up our weapons and let you tie us up that you won't toss us back outside? Or kill us."

  Meryl smiled. "I guess you will just have to trust us."

  "You know we could kill your people," Henry told the cameras in the corner. "If you open up, we won't harm them."

  "It won't do any good," said the mechanic. "We all had to sign a contract when we joined Genesis. If we violate the contract, we could be sued."

  Joshua started laughing in spite of himself.

  Meryl looked at Joshua with concern. "The primary reason is for mutual safety and security. Trust me, that door is not opening unless you do as we say."

  "Don't you ever have to go outside?" asked Aaron.

  "Occasionally," said Kenneth. "To hunt for food or make repairs or find parts, but it's not often."

  Aaron smiled, evidently pleased with himself. "Then sooner or later someone will have to come through that door simply to get outside."

  Meryl shook her head. "There are more entrances. They can ignore this one for many years if needed."

  "Come on, fellas," said the mechanic. "The missus was fixing oatmeal this morning with cinnamon. I told her I'd be back for breakfast. Just cooperate a little, will ya?"

  Henry looked around uncertainly.

  Joshua was shaking again, and his vision was narrowing to a tunnel. "Do it," he croaked. "No. Choice."

  With that, he sank into blessed oblivion and thankfully did not dream.

  Chapter 20 - Branded

  Nathan sat up off the bunk as Frank Simm walked into his room. To call it a cell wasn't exactly accurate since there were no bars on the doors and this wasn't a jail, but for all practical purposes it served the same purpose. Nathan could see a couple of state troopers in uniform posted outside his room as the door shut.

  "So what's the verdict?" Nathan asked and tried to smile. "No pun intended."

  Frank looked away. "It's not good."

  "Am I going to get a chance to speak at all?"

  "No," answered Frank. "The president has convinced the council that as the SSA Chief, you could reveal information irrelevant to this case that could damage the JP."

  Nathan shook his head. "Did they read my statement at least?"

  "T
hey did," answered Frank, "but it didn't really help."

  "What do you mean? Didn't they get the part about President Campbell passing info to the WTR?"

  "Yes"—Frank sat down on a chair—"but there is nothing to prove any type of false allegiance. The president admitted to talking to President Schweitzer about the Nashville radiation levels and admits it was unwise in hindsight, but he did not intend to harm the JP."

  "That's bull," said Nathan. "What about the WTR having his son?"

  "There's no evidence of it," said Frank. "Even bringing it up made the president come across as a sympathetic figure."

  "Can't they prove anything?" Nathan asked.

  Frank tilted his head. "Oh, they can prove plenty. They can prove that you intentionally gave the president false information because you admitted to it in your statement. They can prove that you had the president under surveillance and were following him, because of—"

  "The guard," Nathan hissed. "I ordered the guard to be followed. I'm pretty sure he's not who he says he is. It was all in my statement."

  "Be that as it may, all the photos show, and the reports also mention, the president specifically. Your statement is suspicion and nothing more. You also had no authority to investigate any possible crimes."

  Nathan sighed. "I didn't want word to get out. I didn't know who I could trust."

  "You could have trusted me," said Frank. "We're responsible for espionage investigations anyway, which you should know because you taught us."

  "I know," said Nathan. "So what's going to happen now?"

  Frank stood and walked to the wall, turning his back on Nathan. He rubbed his face nervously.

  "Go on," said Nathan. "Tell me."

  Without turning around, Frank said, "You're going to be branded and exiled."

  Nathan sucked in his breath. "For how long?"

  Turning back to face Nathan, Frank's face seemed to sag. "Forever, Nathan. I'm sorry."

  Feeling like he had been punched in the stomach, Nathan sat stunned for several minutes. "Where are they to send me?" he finally asked.

  "They failed to give specific instruction on that regard," Frank said. "Do you have any druthers?"

  "West," said Nathan. "Into Missouri."