“You are right, of course,” said Huá Lōng. “But we want what you want, and we each have what the other needs.”
“This is a waste of time,” said Mganga. “We must prepare and you must decide. You either march with us or we turn you out to the street. Good luck surviving there, no matter how strong you are.”
“You seemed to have made it good enough.”
“Yes, but I’m intelligent.”
Joniver bowed again.
“Joniver,” Huá Lōng said, “listen to your brother and to Emily and above all listen to your heart.”
“Joniver,” Emily said, “you should listen to her and you need to listen to me. Until you hear what has happened, don’t assume the worst.”
“She’s right, Dude.”
Joniver straightened but never broke his gaze on Mganga, who appeared as calm as someone brewing afternoon tea.
“OK,” Joniver said. “Wha’d-ya-got?”
***
“So they can’t stand loud noises?” Joniver asked. They make such guttural and sometimes, loud sounds, he thought.
Mganga nodded. “They remain sensitive to light and sound for the first few weeks, even after the antidote is administered. The sensitivity was a necessary side effect of the original serum. While it opens neural pathways for those who need them, normal, healthy brains are overly sensitized.”
“Without care, the excess noise and light can drive them insane with pain,” he added. “If they can stay quiet and get the antidote, they are fine in a few days. Some of the physical effects never go away, but their minds will be as sharp as ever.”
“That’s pretty amazing work,” Joniver looked at Mganga.
“Thank you,” Mganga said. “It was forced upon me-“
“The important thing is,” Jacob interrupted, “they want to help, and with them, we do this.”
“They don’t have weapons,” Joniver said.
“They will attack with no weapons,” Jacob said.
“They’ll get slaughtered!”
“No, they won’t.”
“With no weapons?”
“With no weapons,” Jacob said. “They won’t need them.”
Chapter 32
Mganga and Huá moved from one overhead display panel to another, talking about the layout of various buildings and Guardsmen routines. They reviewed every possible detail from every angle. Emily watched with intense interest. Although her ability to help was limited to languages and codes, she proved a keen observer and gave input when appropriate.
“Emily,” Jacob said at one point, “you would make an excellent soldier!”
“Told you she was sharp,” Joniver said. He smiled with pride at Emily.
“You didn’t lie, Dude.”
“No, you did not,” Huá Long added, with a head bow of admiration.
Emily nodded her appreciation. She stood, non-committal for the rest of the process, until some personnel files flashed on the screen. “Hey, wait,” Emily said, “go back. I know this guy.”
“Yeah,” Joniver said, “me, too." His muscles sprung taut. “Emily, isn’t that guy Buscar?”
“Yes…yes, it is…” Her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat.
“This is Hunter’s son,” Huá said. “He is instrumental in torture of captives. Hunter trusts him almost exclusively for it.”
“What?” Emily mouthed.
Joniver looked at her, “Did you know?”
Emily shook her head. “I think I need some water."
Leaving the room, Emily walked past several rooms where people - she had stopped calling them Crazies - sat at lab benches busy with their work. She had no idea what they were working on, but they were zoned in and gave her little, if any notice. She walked until she was out of sight, and then ran to the first unoccupied room. She entered and placed her hands over her mouth to muffle her cry. She thought back to seeing the picture, and the tears rippled along the fingertips pressed into the flesh of her cheeks. The watery pain moved chaotically into and down the peaks and valleys formed by her long smooth fingers.
How could it be? She had trusted him! She had let him into her apartment, and she had introduced him to Joniver!
Joniver! Was it possible this was all her fault? Could it be none of this would have happened if she had not let him in and he and Joniver met?
How jealous Joniver was when he saw Buscar! She smiled as she thought about it. Her tears slowed, and she wiped her flushed face. Her mind flashed back to that afternoon in her apartment, and she remembered her heart turning flips when she introduced Joniver. His jealousy was so cute. I thought he was going to punch the guy right there!
Her smile faded. “I wish he would have,” she said aloud. “I wish he had pummeled the bastard in the ground! None of this would have happened and nobody would have died and things would be like they were…at least the good parts. I want the good parts back…”
The tears flowed once again.
“Why did I let ever Joniver read those books? He wanted to,” she answered with justification. “He wanted to more than anything.”
Emily knew Joniver had been interested in the books, but she also knew he was more interested in her. Her mind whirled like a merry-go-round, and she saw pictures of herself sitting with Joniver in her apartment as they sat reading together on a lazy afternoon. They talked about the book he had just finished or the one he was reading at the time. These were her best memories.
She fell in love with Joniver on those afternoons. He was so curious and so eager! She loved walking with him afresh through the literature she grew up reading. Their time reading and talking was good, and it was fun.
If they could have just stayed there. If she could now turn back the clock and take Joniver back to one of those afternoons. She would freeze the world and the two of them would live there forever, she thought. Things were so much easier.
She remembered the fire and the death of Aunt Naomi and the funeral and the relocation, and all she had endured. She remembered learning from Nana the night of the fire, that it was Joniver who saved her. She remembered the flutter of a spark she felt inside when Nana said his name.
Emily knew something even then that she would only later admit to herself; the young man Joniver was more than some “Dude,” as Jacob would say. For whatever reason, I saw something in him, she thought. What is clear now, was sure not clear then! Joniver is committed and determined and persistent. Things I never saw in him until we started reading.
He’s also darn cute, she thought, adding a smile.
All of her worries faded in the background as she thought of Joniver.
The fire brought him to me, she thought, and although I lost Aunt Naomi, Joniver showed up. He always seems to show up when I need him, and I need him all the time now. Another smile creased her lips. “I know I need him all the time,” she said. “Does he need me?” Her smile paled. He does, even when he doesn’t know it, she told herself. She hoped for the days of uncertainty to fade. She hoped all this would be over soon and she and Joniver could have a life - a real life.
The tears eased, and she was ready to go back in the room with the others. Seeing the picture of Buscar and finding out he was Hunter’s son were just too much. If she could stop Joniver from going, she would, but if she could stop him from going, he was not the same man she loved. There was nothing she would do to hurt him or change him, and not going would do both.
I’ll be positive, and I’ll be encouraging, she said to herself. If anything happens to him, well…
She thought of losing her dad, and cried again. The tears lasted only a few minutes this time and she regained control, focusing her mind on the task at hand.
She opened the door and re-entered the room.
***
Joniver pulled Jacob by the arm and whispered in his ear, “This doesn’t feel right!”
“What?” Jacob asked. “What doesn’t feel right?”
“Going to the Station. Going there seems like whe
re Hunter would want us. The move is too obvious. They can’t defend it as well, so why would they hole up there?”
“We got a plan, Dude. Trust the plan.”
“Huá knows the layout, so if we can get in and get Olinar, we can worry about the rest afterwards.”
“Remember,” Jacob said, “we get with the Angriff, we go get Olinar, then we worry about Hunter and then Elizabeth. We gotta go in that order, agreed?”
“Agreed,” Joniver said. He saw a lot to worry about, and he fought the doubt creeping into his mind.
Why didn’t I feel this way when we were discussing it? If I did, why didn’t I say something? Jacob was right, Joniver thought, it is too late to worry about the thing now. We must go with what we got and make it work.
Determining the Angriff position was not difficult. Once outside the Crazies’ compound, they moved under cover of darkness - and the cover provided by the Crazies - toward the Angriff. Acting like a Crazy is easy when you aren’t one, Joniver thought. When people see them - us, now - they will look for what they’re expecting.
What would it take for Jacob and me to be recognized as not part of the Crazies? He was not sure but knew tomorrow it would be critical they looked the part, at least for a little while.
“They do smell worse than I ever have,” Joniver said under his breath.
“No, no they don’t,” Emily said, shuffling up beside him. She smiled for a moment.
Joniver smirked, “I knew I didn’t want you to come.”
They both dropped back into character and ambled in halting fashion toward their destination.
***
“Boss!” Beetle said in the comm-pod. “We got company! We got some Crazies moving toward us.”
“Beetle,” Dunston said, his irritation evident. “Crazies aren’t a problem, and you know it! They’ll disperse soon enough.”
“Don’t think so, Boss. These are moving as if they’re headed straight for our position. What do you want me to do?”
“Hold fire,” Dunston said. He looked at Peters with a question in his eyes.
“I don’t know, Boss,” Peters said. “I’ve never heard of Crazies acting together.”
“Right,” Dunston said. “Take Morgan, and Roberts and get up there. Let me know what you see. Do not fire!”
“Do you hear me? Pull back if you have to, but do not fire.”
Dunston got the rest of the Angriff to their feet, and set up the perimeter defense. Taking out the Crazies was not his concern; they could kill them easy enough. He was concerned with drawing unwanted attention, so eliminating them with as little fire fight and with as little mess as possible was his objective. He decided funneling them into the building, surrounding them and then eliminating them would be best.
“Boss!” Beetle’s voice sounded again on his comm-pod. “You better get up here!”
Peters followed, “Yeah, Boss, you want to see this.”
In minutes, Dunston was on the roof. “What’s up?"
Beetle and Peters just pointed at the mob, but they were not a mob. The Crazies lined up in four columns of twenty-three each in front of the building and then they stopped. Four Crazies stood out front of the aligned group.
“They’re lined up like, like…” Peters said.
“Like soldiers,” Dunston finished.
“Yeah,” said Beetle. “That’s crazy!” His joke was unintended, but both Dunston and Peters gave him a sideways look that said, “Seriously?”
Then the four in front walked toward the building, but they were walking. Dunston saw they were not moving awkwardly as he had seen Crazies move in the past.
“Wait up here,” he said. “I’m going down there. If something happens, shoot me, and then funnel them into the trap I’ve set downstairs. Got it? Use as little ammunition as possible. I don’t want to draw any further attention to our position.”
Peters and Beetle opened their mouths to protest, but Dunston raised a hand as he walked away.
They watched as Dunston walked outside the building, and Angriff watched neighboring buildings for snipers or some indication of a trap. It was dark, but they could see well enough and all was clear.
Dunston walked slowly at first as he approached the four Crazies. They stopped and something was said, but neither Peters nor Beetle could hear.
Then Dunston looked up at them and waved. In the comm-pod they heard, “Everyone stand down. Our Prodigals have returned, and they brought friends.”
Peters and Beetle looked at one another with furrowed brow. They gave the stand down order, but Peters said, “Beetle, stay here with the watch and I’ll go see what’s going on. I’ll be back to relieve you as soon as I know what’s happening.”
With that he was off with two Angriff in tow. They shot through the doorway and to their horror, the space was full of Crazies! Peters stopped and felt a sudden rush of revulsion ripple up through his digestive system and a wave of panic across his skin. They were everywhere, but they were talking to the Angriff soldiers and shaking hands and, and - were these actual Crazies? They couldn’t be, Peters thought. Where was Dunston? There, talking with…
Just then the two tall Crazies talking to Dunston pulled back the tattered hoods on the sweatshirts they were wearing.
“What’s going on Blueberry?” Peters ran to Joniver and Jacob and greeted each with a man hug.
“Peters, you remember Emily and this is Huá Lōng,” Joniver said. “She is a former Regent.”
“You mean,” Peters said, “they actually exist?”
“They did,” Huá said, “until Hunter killed them and tried to kill me. The Crazies saved me.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there,” Peters said, “and I mean a good one! You all are just full of surprises!”
“Well,” Joniver said, “for our plan to work, we gotta do some real surprising tomorrow.”
***
They tromped in what appeared to be a haphazard fashion as the group of Crazies marched through the streets. They were far from where they should have been and local residents cleared a path as they approached. Mothers grabbed children and ran inside, while men and women grabbed whatever they could to use as a weapon. Everybody knows a Crazy will not bother anyone who does not bother it, so citizens hung back hoping the Crazies would move on. They wanted nothing more than to get back to their lives in peace.
There was a group of eight or ten here, and another group of four there. Someone said they heard as many as thirty walked past the market center over on Spring Street. This kind of sighting was unprecedented, someone else said. Why are there so many and why are they walking through the market? The questions cut the morning air like shrieks in the night.
“What did they touch?” a vendor asked.
“If they get close, can we become infected?” asked another
“They were within three meters of my kids. Will they get infected? Should I send them to the Crazies?” a mother asked a neighbor. The neighbor shrugged, and retreated to her own flat.
The world was turned upside down on this cloudless Tuesday morning.
“Why can’t they stay where they belong?” asked a vendor concerned about the day’s profits. “Where is our security?”
Still the Crazies walked. They appeared disorganized. They appeared leaderless. But once the groups reached the Station, they slowly surrounded the building.
The crowd was nothing at first, and Guardsmen had dealt with groups of Crazies before. A few Guardsmen went out to keep the groups moving, but the Crazies would not move on. They simply circled the building and more joined them. Within an hour, there were thousands of Crazies milling about outside the Station and Guardsmen scrambling inside. The Guardsmen had never faced a situation like this, and they all looked for someone who knew what to do.
Finally someone decided to call the director. With hesitation, the local captain reached for the pushbutton on his communication pad, and braced himself for the reprimand he anticipated receiving.
; “Hold for the Director,” a voice said. Director Hunter appeared on the screen.
“Yes, Captain?”
“Sir,” the Guardsman’s voice was shaky and nervous. “Sir, we have a situation.”
He paused and licked his lips.
“Yes, Captain,” Hunter said. “Go on. Don’t worry, I know about the Crazies and the problem you’re facing. Do you have a proposal?”
“Sir,” the Captain tried to relax and get his thoughts together. “Sir, the only thing we have done in the past to disperse large groups of Crazies is to gas them. But right now, we have so many citizens on the street, and the gas could have unintended consequences.”
“Have they attacked anyone?” Hunter asked.
“No, sir.”
“Have they surrounded any other buildings?”
“No, sir.”
“Turn your cameras on for me, Captain. I want to see them.”
The captain connected the cameras as Hunter had directed.
“These are ugly things,” Hunter said, not caring who heard. He looked at the crowd from all the camera angles and from every corner of the building. The mob was a grotesque and sickening sight to see - this collection of creatures. I know they are necessary, but why can’t they - “Wait! What is that?” he said under his breath. He panned the southeast camera back to its center position. “Could it be? It’s not possible! How could they…?”
Hunter regained control. “Captain do you see the three in the crowd I have highlighted on your screen?”
“Yes, Sir. They don’t look-"
“No, they aren’t,” Hunter cut him off. “They are enemies. They want to destroy our way of life, and they are terrorists dressed as Crazies. They are using the Crazies to cover for their terrorism. Go arrest them!”
How did they use the Crazies? Hunter asked himself. The Crazies were not controllable, as everyone knew, but somehow they were being controlled. Regent Red?
Well, it didn’t matter. Huá Lōng and those damn brothers would both be fine additions to the donor tanks. They could join their friend, and in their case, I’ll let my inept son torture them all he wishes.
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