He got free from the crowd and wandered down another avenue, a stretch of road even wider than the one he was on previously.
Ein stared at the electronic billboards as he passed them. Recruiting advertisements for the Baton Rouge Federal Police played along with ads for the Civilian Repatronization Initiative. Dazzling displays of propaganda and neon-clad messages of faith and obedience bombarded the crowd as they passed on the street and sidewalks below.
Above the images of smiling families and benevolent bureaucratic leaders stood the real message that was veiled only thinly by the glitz and glamour of the flashing marquees: sentries holding machineguns lined the roofs and peered down at the civilians below.
After all, wasn’t that what it came down to?
Give us your obedience, or we’ll give you our lead, Ein thought sourly.
It made him miss the type of community that Lizzy had.
Maybe, once things settled down and he got Teddy healthy again, he’d head back up north and see her again.
Maybe he’d apologize for behaving the way he did.
Maybe they’d let him stay.
One billboard, in particular, caught his attention and snapped him out of his train of thoughts.
Ein slowed and stared up at it in an almost opened-mouth stupor.
The top of the billboard flashed: WANTED—EIN BECKER & TEDDY SANDERS. Their unsmiling photos taken back at the Tucson stadium during the intake process had been posted underneath the heading. At the bottom were the words: ARMED & DANGEROUS—CONTACT NEAREST LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICER— ℝ~10,000 RATION STAMP REWARD.
Ein quickly looked down and went back to walking with the crowd. He was thankful that he no longer looked anything like his old picture from the Tucson stadium. He doubted that anybody would recognize them.
Still, the sooner they got out of here, the better.
A few blocks down, Ein saw a row of patrol vehicles parked along with a row of officers who stood with their rifles across their chests.
Drones hovered overhead and scanned the crowd below with a red laser-grid that shone out of their circular lens.
An officer announced one of the vehicle’s speakers: Due to terrorist activity, additional security protocols have been implemented. Proceed calmly through the security checkpoint and prepare for RFID chip and facial identification.
Panicked, Ein stopped walking and started to back away.
People shouldered past him, aggravated.
To his right, he saw an alleyway.
The drones drew closer.
Ein hurried across the sidewalk and ignored the cries of protests coming from the people he bumped against.
He ducked into the darkened alleyway just as the drones passed.
Luckily, none of the drones decided to sweep the alley.
Ein leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. He reached up and wiped his forehead and then stared out at the silhouettes as they passed along the sidewalk.
“Need some new britches, boy?” a husky voice asked with a southern drawl.
Ein spun towards the voice, heart beating maddeningly in his chest.
Two stocky men wearing dirty green coveralls and knit caps stood leaning against the wall with cigarettes in their hands. One had a wooly brown beard, and the other had his blonde hair slicked back into a greasy mullet.
“W-why?” Ein’s voice was unusually shaky and faint.
The bearded man grinned. “Because you sure look like you done shit yourself!”
Both men hooted with laughter.
“What’s wrong with you?” the man went on. “Don’t you know better than to go wandering around with those stuck-up assholes?”
“I was… just…” Ein’s voice trailed off.
“Maybe that is his group, Ray. He might be one of the eggheads.” The blonde grinned.
“Shittin’ me!” Ray snorted. “Told you he ruined them britches the second he saw them drones! Besides, the boy looks like he fell out from between his mother’s legs just yesterday!” He laughed. “Wet behind the ears, this one is!”
“Yeah—he sure ain’t a working man.” The blonde pointed at Ein’s hands. “Them city boy hands.”
Ein quickly hid his hands in his coat pocket and looked at the men.
Ray raised a bushy brow. “Say, son, what group are with anyway?” He pointed his cigarette at his clothes. “Where’s your jumper?”
Ein hesitated before finally holding his hands out at his side and shaking his head. “I… I don’t have one.”
“What? A jumper?” Ray asked.
“Anything.” Ein pointed off in the distance. “I came from outside. I snuck in over that way a little while ago.”
Ray and the other man exchanged an uneasy, worried glance.
“I didn’t come in to cause trouble,” Ein assured. “My friend needs help—that’s why I came. Can you help him?”
“They’ll kill him if they find him.” Ray gave the kid a sympathetic look.
“That’s not our problem, Ray. He should’ve stayed outside.”
“Devin might want him.”
“It ain’t smart getting tangled up with them…”
“Why not? Their money’s green enough, isn’t it?”
Silence lingered as Ray regarded Ein with a stony expression.
The blonde man took a final drag and then flicked his cigarette on the ground. He crushed it with his boot and shifted his gaze uncomfortably between Ein and Ray before stuffing his hands inside his jumpsuit’s pockets and heading towards the street. “Whatever. Do what you want, but I’m ain’t getting involved.”
Ray stared at Ein for a few more moments before relenting with a heavy sigh. “Follow me, boy.”
“You are going to help?” he asked hopefully.
“Nah, but I know someone who might.”
“Thank you. I—”
Ray waved a dismissive hand. “No need for all that. I’m just doing it for money.”
“Money?” Ein stared at the back of his head, confused.
Ray didn’t elaborate. “What’s your name, boy?”
“Ein.”
“Ein? What the hell kind of name is that?” He chuckled. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Who gives a shit, right? My name’s Raymond, but folks call me Ray.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Ray snorted. “Don’t thank me yet. Just stick close, alright?”
Ein followed Ray down the alleyway and through a service corridor that ran between the back of two apartment buildings.
Others, all wearing green jumpers, stood idly around the corridor drinking coffee out of tin cans and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes. People went in and out of the apartment building’s backdoors. Some of them joined the crowd.
Bells started ringing, and an announcement boomed through the rooftop loudspeakers: Attention—Group B work call is commencing. Please proceed to your detail supervisor. Morning curfew is in full effect for all remaining groups—please wait for your group to be called.
The people wearing green snuffed out their cigarettes, finished their coffee, and started heading towards the street en masse.
“Where’s everyone going?” Ein asked.
“Work,” Ray answered without turning around. “Our group handles all of the maintenance and skilled trade electrical shit.”
“What about those other people I saw?”
“Which ones?”
“The ones in regular clothes.”
“Group A,” Ray said with disgust. “They’re all doctors, engineers, and boardroom types. Walk around like their shit doesn’t stink. You’re lucky that they didn’t call the cops on you.”
Ein thought about his encounter with the Asian man and frowned. “I guess I am.” He looked around at the passing faces. “How many groups are there?”
“You’re an annoying little shit, aren’t you?” Ray grumbled and scratched the back of his head. “Give the questions a break, okay? I’m not giving you a damn tour here…” He pointed at a s
teel service door up ahead. “Besides, we made it.”
The door was marked BOILER ROOM ACCESS—BLD 4179 in black letters, and its hinges were rusty.
Ray led Ein towards the door and stopped to look around.
There were no nosey men on the roof and not a drone in sight.
Satisfied, Ray made a fist and pounded against the door three times.
After a few moments, a voice answered from the other side. “Yeah?”
“It’s me—Ray. I have a stray for you.”
“I’mma let Devin know. Hold on.”
Ray stepped back and ran his fingers through his beard as he waited.
After a few moments, the door unlocked and cracked open.
A wiry, bald black man wearing a yellow jumpsuit peaked out of the darkened room and crooked his head as he glanced around. His gaze eventually settled on Ein as he looked him up and down. “When did ya get here?”
“Less than an hour ago,” Ein said.
“How?”
“Gap in the wall… A few blocks back.”
“Followed?”
“I don’t think so…”
The black man hesitated and looked up at the rooftops.
“If they were following him, they would’ve snatched him up by now,” Jay said with irritation in his voice.
The black man pushed the door open all the way and motioned for Ein to enter. “Get in. Hurry up.”
Ein went inside, and the man started to close the door.
Jay reached out and grabbed the knob, stopping it from closing. “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?” He extended his other hand.
The man pulled out a few slips of paper from his pocket and gave them to Jay.
Jay looked down at the papers, disappointed. “Only ten ration stamps? Come on, that’s bullshit, Reggie!”
“Devin said he'd give ya the rest if this guy turns out to be useful.”
“That wasn’t the arrangement,” Jay growled.
“It is now—take it or leave it.”
“This shit won’t fly next time.” Jay let the knob go, turned, and stormed away.
Reggie shut the door and fastened the security bolt.
Ein stared down the dark, concrete service hall and looked up at the rusty pipes and ductwork that ran the expanse of the ceiling. Mildew covered the walls, and the overhead incandescent lamps gave a faint, flickering yellow glow. “This is quite a place that you—”
Something cold and metallic pressed against Ein’s back.
“Walk.” Reggie pressed the revolver’s barrel harder against his back and urged him forward.
Ein put his hands up. “Easy! I think you have the wrong idea. I’m not a—”
Reggie shoved him. “Shut up and walk ‘fore I blow a hole in your back, fool!”
Ein stumbled ahead and started walking with shaky knees. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, and his head suddenly became light.
Reggie said nothing as he kept the revolver pointed at him and followed a few steps behind.
They arrived at a room full of water pumps and heat exchangers. Iron pipes and steam conduits covered all four walls and fed up into the ceiling.
In one corner of the room, men and women wearing red jumpsuits stood around a folding poker table and were busy stuffing nails and iron scrap into small lead pipes.
A boy who appeared to be even younger than Ein stood nearby and leaned against a support pillar, watching them.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards Ein as soon as he entered.
“W-Where do you want me to go?” Ein asked in a shaky voice.
Reggie waved the revolver towards two chairs that were facing each other in the center of the room. “Go have a seat.”
Ein hurried to one of the seats and plopped down. Even though his head was swimming, and he felt on the verge of passing out, he sat ramrod straight and looked around with a wide-eyed stare.
Reggie sat in the chair across from him and kept his weapon pointed at him.
The people gathered around the poker table turned back around and went back to their work.
The young boy meanwhile kept his attention on Ein.
Ein’s gaze shifted towards the people gathered at the table as he tried to figure out what they were making.
“Yo.” Reggie snapped his fingers in the air. “Eyes over here, shaky.”
Ein’s gaze snapped back towards him and widened at the sight of the silver revolver. “W-w-what do y-you want?”
Reggie grinned, and his gold teeth glimmered in the dull yellow light. “Tell me your story.”
“My story…?”
“Yeah, tell me how ya ended up here in the Red Stick.”
Ein swallowed hard and stared at the weapon. “Please… I’m not a spy or anything. My friend needs—”
“Lemme decide that,” Reggie interrupted. “Tell me your story… If I like it, then maybe we’ll talk about your friend. If I don’t… Well…” He cocked the revolver’s hammer back, and his toothy grin grew broader. “Ya just best hope I like it, ya feel me?”
Ein nodded skittishly.
“Talk,” Reggie said. “Tell me ya story.”
Ein talked.
CHAPTER 34
Ein had been speaking for what felt like hours.
His throat was parched, and his tongue felt dry and swollen.
The story he told went back to the beginning, back to when Arizona State University canceled his classes due to flu activity.
He told them about the stadium.
He told them about Topeka.
He told them about the escape.
He told them much more than he figured Teddy would’ve liked.
Although otherwise through, Ein carefully omitted a few key details such as his senseless quarantine at the hands of that twisted doctor, Teddy’s brief stint as a FEMA officer, and the shoot-out they had with the marauders.
After all, the last thing he wanted to do was make his interrogators apprehensive.
Reggie didn’t say a word while Ein spoke. His face remained impassive as he continued to sit very still—his revolver pointed at Ein.
The young boy stood back by the table and kept his hawkish gaze on Ein, listening.
Ein licked his cracked lips and looked around the room.
After talking for so long, the sudden silence seemed deafening.
“Ya done?” Reggie asked.
“I can’t think of anything else.” Ein rubbed his hands together as his eyes drifted down towards the gun. “So… are we good?”
Reggie cocked his head over his shoulder and looked at the young boy standing in the back.
The boy didn’t respond.
Reggie turned back towards Ein and gave one of his toothy grins as he stood up and pointed the revolver at Ein’s forehead.
“Wait!” Ein croaked as he held up his hands and almost fell backward in the chair. His teary eyes stared down the barrel, and his lips quivered. “I told you what you wanted to know! Just let me—”
“Reggie, stop.” The boy’s voice was even-keeled but authoritative. “Come here.”
Reggie lowered the revolver, turned, and walked over towards the boy.
Ein watched anxiously as they huddled together and whispered.
After a few moments, Reggie put the weapon back in his pocket, turned, and left the room.
The boy approached Ein and offered a thin, affable smile. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but we can never be too careful. The police have been cracking down lately, and it wouldn’t be the first time that they have tried to infiltrate our group.” He stopped in front of Ein and extended a hand. “Devin Williams.”
Ein shook his hand. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to get back to my friend… I left him out by—”
“The alleyway by the Tillman Residential Tower,” Devin interrupted. “We know. I sent someone over to take him someplace safe back when you first started talking.”
“Is he…” Ein trailed
off.
Devin nodded. “Don’t worry. He’s safe.”
“He’s very sick, though…”
“I gathered.” Devin walked away and went towards the card table with his hands behind his back. “Our doctor is taking a look at him. We’ll get him the help he needs.”
Ein watched Devin as he picked up one of the completed pipe bombs off of the table and regarded it.
Devin was a pale, skinny kid with long dark brown hair that hung over his eyes. He kept reaching up to brush his oily locks behind his ears.
At first glance, he didn’t appear to be older than twenty, but once he came closer, the wrinkles across the brow and the subtle crow’s feet around his baggy lids became evident.
The “kid” was probably older than Ein and well into his late twenties, although one would never be able to tell unless they came up close.
“Who are you people?” Ein eventually asked.
“Democracy’s last hope.” Devin put the pipe bomb down and sat on the table, facing Ein. He crossed his arms over his chest. “We don’t have an official name… If you asked most people on the streets, they’d call us terrorists. In some ways, I guess they’re right.”
“So, are you the good guys or the bad guys?”
The statement made Devin laugh. “I don’t think the world is so black and white anymore. We’ve been living in shades of grey.”
“I guess you have a point.”
“We do what little we can with what little we have.” Devin gestured around the room. “We dig out our little nooks, launch an attack, and then find somewhere to set up shop. It’s a never-ending cycle, but the cops are starting to feel the pressure, I think.”
“How long have you’ve been at it?”
“My brother and I started this little faction a few months back.” He paused, frowning. “They killed my brother… He was a good man—an honest man. Served in the Navy before all hell broke loose. Our parents died from the bug.” He stifled a tear and wiped his nose. “Now, it’s just me leading this little ragtag group.”
“When I first saw you, I thought…” Ein stopped and shook his head, flustered. “It doesn’t matter.”
“No, go on,” Devin pressed. “What did you think?”
“I thought you were a teenager… I had no idea you were the leader of whatever this is.”
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