The Givers (Pack)

by Jones, Rogue

  I was near the conveyor and I plunged a syringe of virus into the dead body of the Giver and then started dragging it to the conveyor. A Desert Rat saw and helped me, together we heaved the body to the conveyer, and it brought the body up and over the lip. A crunching sound followed and then the feeding tubes began to feed the growing Sharks. One by one, they blackened and burst. We grinned at each other. We could use the Givers themselves to poison their factories!

  From the shouting from the other side, it sounded like the penned humans were freed. I saw them streak out into the base grounds. The base was large and other factories were here. Syringes were handed out to the freed people, they were to find and inject any Giver buildings and houses that they found. They were not on their own; they followed our groups so they have protection. With this area cleared, we headed to the next factory. We were able to easily take out the Givers using their own lasers and the poisons. With each group that we overtook, our confidence grew.

  We made our way around the base, meeting up with the others. As far as we knew, the Givers were disabled, all dead. We remained cautious though. We found that the garages of the base were in good shape, the Givers tended to only destroy the surface of things. Military vehicles, mechanical supplies were still intact. We found that the gas tanks were also intact, as was the propane. Generators were turned on, giving us access to elevators. A flare went up and soon others joined us.

  A new base was about to go up. The towers that were still intact were soon manned. New barbed wire was strung up. Immediate repairs began for the buildings and the walls. A plan of action had obviously been in place and implementation was immediate. Anne had told us that since we were not that far away, that there was a spot for us here and that if the mission was successful, Dr. Hopewell had agreed. We were going to be leaving Hell! The children would have a fortified place to sleep and to learn. We would have facilities, not tents.

  We were given two military transport vehicles to get most of the residents of Hell and our equipment here. We had the two vehicles, and the horses, and would be able to get us all here in two trips. Two Desert Rats were assigned to drive us back to bring our people home. Plans were already being made to begin to take back other bases. Even destroyed, they still were places that were defendable. They had lower levels that could be accessed. They had anti-aircraft guns that would take down the drones!

  We left, using shortwave radios to communicate with each other. Tina and I enjoyed the novelty of it for a while until we drove our drivers’ nuts with it. The other people from Hell, all men, just rolled their eyes at us. When we tired of playing with the radios, we sat in the front seat, bouncing along over the ground, feeling victory pumping in our veins. Today, we gave the Givers a forcible return of their gifts. Today, the rabbits fought back and took back something of our own.

  We were close to Hell. I was close to seeing Thomas and my mom. We were bringing back hope. A few would still stay, to man the landline there, to stay in contact with the groups to the south. That landline would be transferred to the base once they got it working and Hell would go back to being a ghost town, a place for the coyotes to shelter and for the dust to take back. They could have it.

  We had to stop four times for Sharks overhead. The driver frowned, Sharks over the desert this close to Hell was not usual. We picked Hell because the Givers rarely came that way, if so; they were passing by to another location. Four in as many hours made us nervous. They were coming from the desert, heading back towards the California coast, from the angle of their flight. Hell had survived years of Shark flyovers without incident and even a few drones had passed and took no notice of us. We were nervous but not worried.

  That made what we found all the worse to bear. The town sign was there but it was full of holes, from a laser, no doubt. The buildings were all gone, the tents shredded and blowing in the wind. Bodies of the dead were all over. Frantic, we searched, but only a few bodies were found, but the Givers often took humans. We used to think they were slaves, now we know they were food.

  “Shara.” Tina spoke and something in her voice tore my heart. I ran to her and she grabbed me but I saw. I will never forget. It was Thomas, or what was left of him, halfway buried under a building. I dropped to my knees, tears flowing. It was a victory but there had been a terrible loss.

  We and the two Desert Rats buried the dead that we found. We scavenged what was salvageable. I went to the ruins of the building where the two vehicles had been, expecting to find the VW bus and the patchwork car in the rubble. The hybrid car was there, but not the others. Puzzled, I walked around and then I smiled. I began to laugh. Tina looked at me, worried.

  Laughing, I pointed to the tire tracks, fresh tire tracks in the ground, “The Givers don’t drive, but somebody did! Two cars drove right up out of here!” We hugged each other and then the guys. We began our journey into the desert, following the tracks.