The Release

by Tom Isbell

  “So which one are you gonna go with?” Hope asks.

  “Neither. I think I’ll say, ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but calling me a Less Than will never hurt me.’”

  At first, Cat and Hope are too stunned to react, but when they see a smile spreading across Book’s face, they can’t help but smile, too.

  “I would pay to hear you say that,” Cat says.

  “Me too,” Hope adds. “The smartest of the bunch choosing a children’s rhyme. It’s just what Maddox wouldn’t expect.”

  “So maybe we should all do it,” Book says. “‘I know you are, but what am I?’”

  “‘I’m tellin’, you’re smellin’,’” Hope says.

  “‘You think you’re hot shit, but you’re really just cold diarrhea,’” Cat chimes in.

  “‘Yo mamma.’”

  “‘Yo daddy.’”

  “‘Your bald-headed granny!’”

  They’re giggling hysterically now, barely able to catch their breaths.

  “Is this what they mean by ‘gallows humor’?” Hope asks.

  “I guess so,” Book says. “Never really experienced it before.”

  “That’s ’cause we’ve never been hanged before,” Cat points out, and that makes them laugh all the harder.

  When the laughter dies and a silence settles on them, they hear the hammers pounding nails.

  “We tried, you know,” Book says. “We escaped the camps, we rescued a lot of people …”

  “We didn’t finish,” Hope says.

  “No, but not bad considering we’re a bunch of outcasts. It’s just a shame we couldn’t prevent what happened in those towns. All those deaths.”

  The thought of it clenches Hope’s stomach. It’s not just what happened—it’s what will continue to happen once President Maddox takes over.

  A similar thought must be going through the minds of Book and Cat, because the conversation comes to a dead stop. They lie there, three prisoners about to be hanged.

  Maybe it’s the dark, maybe it’s because of what’s about to happen to them, but Hope finds a sudden courage.

  “Did you love her?” she asks Book.

  “Who?”

  “Miranda.”

  The echo of Miranda’s name dissipates into air before Book answers.

  “No,” he says, softly.

  “You can tell me the truth, you know.”

  “No,” he says again. “I liked her. She was fun. But no.”

  Hope is surprised by a rush of emotion surging through her—how his simple answer prompts something raw and powerful in her.

  “And you’re sure it was her? In the Compound?”

  Book nods in the dark. “She looked different, but yeah, it was her. No question.”

  “How was she killed?”

  Book opens his mouth to answer, then just as quickly shuts it.

  “Those towns,” he says, almost to himself.

  There’s something about his tone that startles Hope. “Which towns?”

  “The ones we rode through. Tell me about them.”

  She swivels her head and looks at him funny. “What’re you talking about?”

  “Tell me what we saw,” he says.

  “You were there like the rest of us.”

  “I know, but what’d we see?”

  Hope shrugs. “Bodies. Blood. Crows picking at corpses.”

  “Yeah, but how’d they die?” He suddenly sits up, swinging his feet to the floor.

  “What’s this have to do with anything, Book?”

  “Yeah, where’re you going with this?” Cat adds.

  “How were the towns wiped out?” Book asks.

  Hope shares a look with Cat. “Shot, of course.”

  “Were there bullet holes?”

  “There was blood.”

  “Were there bullet holes?”

  At that precise moment, Hope knows that Book is onto something.

  38.

  NEITHER HOPE NOR CAT knew what I was thinking—and frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure myself—but ever since we’d ridden through those towns, something had gnawed at me.

  My sudden memory of Miranda only confirmed those suspicions.

  “Did you see bullet holes?” I asked Cat.

  “No …”

  And then I turned to Hope.

  “No, I just assumed—”

  “Exactly!” I said. “We all just assumed. We saw the crows and the bodies and the blood, and we just figured they’d been shot, because that’s what we’ve seen before. But what if they were massacred some other way?”

  “Like how?” Hope asked.

  I hesitated before saying, “Like chemicals.”

  Hope and Cat regarded me a long moment.

  “Go on,” Cat said.

  “We saw blood, but people who die from poisoning bleed, too—from the mouth, the nose, any number of places. So of course there was blood, but maybe it wasn’t caused by bullets.” These were the thoughts that had been swirling inside my head. I’d just never been able to make sense of them before.

  “When Red and Flush and I went to the Compound, it was the same thing. Hundreds of corpses, but no bullet holes. No indication of how they died.”

  “So then … how?” Hope asked.

  I met her eyes. “Tell me about those crates you saw at the missile silo.”

  “Huh?”

  “Those crates. Tell me about ’em.”

  She shot a glance to Cat. “They were just a bunch of wooden crates containing weapons.”

  “What kind of weapons?”

  “The usual Republic guns: M4s, M16s, AK-47s.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it was stenciled on the sides.”

  “Did you see the weapons?”

  “You mean did we open the crates?”

  “Exactly.”

  “No, but I’m sure—”

  “So you didn’t actually see them?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “How do you know for sure what was inside if you didn’t see?”

  “What’re you getting at, Book?” Cat asked.

  “What if it’s all related?” Even if I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going with this, the words began to flow. The floodgates were opened and the waters went rushing through. “Think back to Camp Freedom. Those experiments that were done on you and Faith and the other Sisters—maybe Dr. Gallingham wasn’t looking for cures. Maybe he was looking for poisons. He wasn’t trying to save people, he was trying to kill them.”

  “Chemicals that could wipe out entire towns,” Cat said.

  “Right. And maybe that’s what he’s been giving Chancellor Maddox when they meet. That’s what we saw on the country road that night.”

  Cat and Hope were speechless, remembering the gleaming steel box and the vials.

  “But why go to the trouble of labeling them as guns?” Cat asked.

  “Because of exactly what happened: people spying. You saw the crates, but you had no interest in those weapons, so you didn’t open them up.”

  “I doubt they went to all that trouble just because of us.”

  “You’re right. They didn’t go to that trouble because of us.”

  “Then … why?”

  “They went to that trouble because of everyone else. Because of the other territories. Because of President Vasquez.”

  Hope and Cat were both sitting up now. We were all leaning forward, elbows on knees. Our voices were hushed.

  “That might even explain what that Brown Shirt told us,” Cat said. “He claimed his gun jammed in the silo, that that’s why he didn’t fire at me. But maybe he was afraid if he shot and hit one of those crates, it’d activate a poison and kill us all.”

  “Why President Vasquez?” Hope asked. “Why would the chancellor keep all this from him?”

  “Because he has no idea what Maddox is up to, and that’s the way she likes it,” I said. “Think about it. That’s why she painted over Camp Freedom—to fool him an
d that Perrella woman. And she tested those chemicals on those towns in the middle of nowhere because she could get away with it there. She has no use for Crazies one way or the other. They’re just lab rats. That’s also why she hired the Hunters, who hired the Crazies to kill the Skull People. Her hands are clean. The president will never find out about it.”

  “But why is she developing these weapons in the first place?”

  “It’s the greatest trump card of all time. Once she becomes president, she can restructure the government however she wants, because she can wipe out anyone who disagrees with her. She has the ultimate power.”

  There was a long moment of stunned silence as we all seemed to realize the same thing at the same time: Chancellor Maddox had fooled us—had fooled everyone. And with missiles and chemical weapons on her side, there was no one left in the world who had even a remote chance of stopping her.

  That next evening, two guards brought us dinner. One was thin with a goatee. The other was barrel-chested and clean-shaven, his face nicked in a dozen places from his razor. The floor shook a little with each of his steps.

  “Eat up,” Barrel Chest called out. “Slop time!”

  He slid a tray of food under the cell bars, then moved back to let the other guard slide his trays forward. The goateed guard was kneeling on the floor when Barrel Chest whipped out a pistol and placed it to the other guard’s temple.

  “Don’t move, pardner. And if you so much as break wind, I’ll send your head flying to the moon.”

  My mouth gaped open. And then I realized what I was seeing. The heavyset soldier was none other than Goodman Dougherty, minus facial hair.

  “Hope you all realize the sacrifice I made,” he said, as he tied up the prisoner and put a gag in his mouth. “Took me fifteen years to get my beard all perfect like that.”

  “How’d you find us?” I asked.

  “That dog of yours led me right to you a couple days ago. That thing’s got a snout that could sniff out a petunia in a bed of daisies.”

  Argos. Once more coming to our rescue.

  “Getting a soldier’s uniform was the hard part,” Dougherty went on. “At least, one that fit.” Even now, his chest and belly strained against the buttons.

  He unlocked the cell door and eased it open. Before we exited, he turned back around and met our eyes.

  “By the way, I thought I told you all not to piss anyone off,” he said.

  “Guess we didn’t listen,” Hope said.

  “Yeah, I guess you didn’t. Come on. We don’t have much time.”

  The four of us tiptoed forward. Dougherty pried open the flap of the tent, then led the three of us outside.

  “Best we keep to the shadows,” he said. “This place is jumpier than a three-legged cat in a rocking-chair factory.”

  Even though we slid through back alleys, I saw what Dougherty was talking about. Everyone was tense, on edge, short-tempered. There weren’t the smiles and sense of fun we saw when we first came to town.

  When we stopped to catch our breath, I asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Hard to say,” Dougherty answered. “All sorts of rumors flyin’ about—like maybe Maddox doesn’t want to be president after all.”

  “Are you kidding?” Hope said. “The woman’s in love with power. Why wouldn’t she want to be president?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine, but something’s up. The inauguration’s in four days and she’s no longer here.”

  “She’s gone?” I asked.

  “Left town in the middle of the night, and no one knows why.”

  I couldn’t believe it. None of us could.

  We heard a clomping of boots and watched as a platoon of soldiers marched by. For the first time, I realized they were everywhere—soldiers, Humvees, tanks—moving through the muddy streets with a sense of urgency. Like they knew something the rest of us didn’t.

  A military vehicle revved by, engine growling, splashing mud. It was a large camouflaged truck with a series of enormous cylinders in the bed.

  “What’re those?” Hope asked.

  “Multiple rocket launchers,” Dougherty said. “The only missiles left after Omega. Apparently, they go everywhere the president goes.”

  It was no wonder Chancellor Maddox was so cocky. How could a bunch of slingshot-wielding Less Thans possibly take her down? Especially when she was about to inherit those weapons.

  “And all the military’s here?” Hope asked.

  “Just about,” Dougherty said. “It’s not just the Conclave but the first public inauguration ceremony since pre-Omega.”

  We started up again, stopping when we came to the gallows. It was all lit up as workers were putting in the finishing touches, installing the trapdoors our bodies were intended to drop through. The sight of it made my hair stand up. We hurried on until we were out of town.

  We were marching through an abandoned field when Hope sidled up to Dougherty. “Tell me about those multiple rocket launchers,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Not as precise as the silo missiles, of course, but they’re mobile. Can be moved anywhere. Plus they deliver a whole slew of rockets all at once.”

  “Why would Chancellor Maddox have them up at the Eagle’s Nest?”

  Dougherty shook his head. “I doubt she does.”

  “What if I told you I saw them there?”

  The four of us came to an abrupt halt.

  “When I snuck into the Eagle’s Nest,” she explained, “there were a million things going on, but mainly they were working on trucks. A couple dozen of them. Welding and hammering and creating flatbeds—”

  “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  “—and off to the side were those cylinders. Missiles.”

  “Maybe, but she can’t have enough to do any serious damage.”

  “Unless she has a different type of weapon,” I said. “Like chemicals.”

  Goodman Dougherty’s mouth dropped open, and we told him our suspicions. Even in the darkness, I could see his freshly shaved cheeks go pale.

  “Could they arm those missiles with chemical weapons?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said, “but it doesn’t make any sense. She’s gonna be the new president. She’s going to be inaugurated in a few days.”

  “Not if she wipes out New Washington first.”

  39.

  “JUST BECAUSE CHANCELLOR MADDOX may or may not be developing chemical weapons,” Goodman Dougherty says, “that doesn’t mean she intends to use ’em on her own people.”

  “It would explain why she’s no longer here,” Hope says. “And the latitude and longitude numbers—they weren’t to let people know how to get to the Conclave, they were to tell her soldiers where to stay away from.”

  “But she was just elected president. Why would she wipe out the capital?”

  “It’s not just the capital she’s wiping out. It’s most of the military and every other leader in the Republic. With no Congress, she becomes the supreme ruler.”

  “Even if it means killing thousands of people in the process?”

  “It’s never bothered her in the past.”

  Hope knows they’re all remembering the same thing. The towns. The corpses. The crows. They’ve seen for themselves what the chemicals do.

  “Could she really get away with it?” Dougherty asks.

  “Hitler did,” Book says. “When the Reichstag was set on fire, he blamed it on the Communists. It gave him all the power he needed.”

  The thought sinks in. What they’re envisioning would be the ultimate act of evil. Which is why Hope is convinced it’s exactly what Maddox intends.

  “So what do we do?” Dougherty asks.

  Hope turns to the former Skull Person. “I know it won’t be easy, but somehow you have to see the president. Explain everything: the chemical weapons, the multiple rocket launchers, all of it. Convince him to evacuate the city.”

  “You didn’t have any luck reaching him. Why would he listen to me?”

>   “I don’t know, but somehow you’re going to have to.” It’s less a request and more an outright challenge.

  “Okay,” he says warily. “And you?”

  “We need to stop Maddox.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but she’s long gone, and probably not coming back.”

  “So then we go to her.”

  40.

  HOPE’S WORDS TOOK US by surprise.

  “If Maddox has gone back to the Eagle’s Nest,” Hope said, “then I’ll just go there too.”

  “One against an army?” Goodman Dougherty asked. “Good luck even getting up there.”

  “I did it before. No reason I can’t again.”

  “And this time there’ll be two of us,” I added.

  Hope gave me an I can do this on my own look.

  “It’ll be easier with some company,” I said.

  She opened her mouth to protest but realized there was no point. I was coming along, whether she wanted me to or not. Still, there was something in her eyes I couldn’t read. Something she wasn’t saying.

  “How’re you gonna get there in time?” Cat asked.

  “I don’t know,” Hope said. “But we’ve gotta try.”

  Goodman Dougherty tugged at the place where his beard once was. “Might be that I can be of some assistance with that.”

  He led us to the hollow where we’d first stopped, and as we neared, Flush, Red, Diana, and Twitch rushed from the aspen grove and greeted us. Of course, none was faster than Argos, who burrowed his head in my arms.

  As everyone exchanged hugs and handshakes, Goodman Dougherty went to a pile of tree limbs and began flinging them to one side. Buried beneath the branches was a military Humvee.

  “How’d you get that?” I asked.

  “Guess I just look trustworthy, now that I’m all clean cut.” He rubbed his bare, razor-nicked face. “That and the fact I stole it when no one was looking.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the map of the United States we’d been passing back and forth. He spread it out on the vehicle’s hood.

  “You’ll want to follow these roads. They aren’t great, but they’re the most passable ones.” His finger snaked along a series of thin blue and red lines.