Manifest Destiny: Part One: Lost In Limbo

by Kay, Sabra M.

  Selah stood facing Ruthie for a moment. The girls were at her side muttering to her. She waved them off and stepped toward Selah.

  “You got lucky that time, Selah. I don’t know about next time, though. You got some balls, that’s for sure.”

  Tossing her hair, Ruthie sauntered out of the bar. Selah stood for a moment, and then looked to Dillon.

  Dillon’s expression was a mix of surprise, concern and maybe admiration. “Wow, Selah, you sure know how to make friends.”

  Selah surprised herself by laughing and took a deep breath. “Yeah, well, that’s been a long time coming.” She shook her head, still in disbelief at the day’s events. “So, what do we do now, Dillon?”

  He scratched his head and seemed to focus on some unseen item of interest at the end of the bar. He looked at Gabe, who had sweet-talked Amy out of a free beer and was smacking his lips and sighing with pleasure.

  “I guess we need to think about heading out.”

  Garrett perked up at that. “Out? Where? Where you going?”

  This brought a rush of voices, opinions and theories on the resistance, the Voraks, the Black Soldiers and the Corporation. Everyone seemed to want to weigh in on the truth of things, and at that point, Selah and the other women in the bar were brushed off.

  This was one of the reasons Selah had stayed away from the bar, relationships and any of the goings-on in Limbo. In the new world, women were not seen as equal, if they ever had been. They were baby machines and entertainment and sometimes punching bags. Out doing the wash every week, Selah never saw men. Not even Kent washed his own clothes.

  Humph. That’ll change. I’m never doing his damn laundry again.

  She watched Dillon gesturing and speaking intensely. He was attractive and smart and mostly considerate. Selah wondered how it would be if they were a couple. Would he expect her to go fetch the water and wash the clothes?

  Her father had done his own chores, and he never made Selah feel like she was less than Kent or any other boy. Of course, she herself had fallen short when push came to shove, but Nieve hadn’t. She was always out training, shooting and paying attention when the soldiers were talking and planning their strategies.

  Selah walked out of the bar and joined Nat at the picnic table where she was smoking. Still sore from her fight, and tired from the stress and events of the last two weeks, she leaned her head on Nat’s shoulder. She thought of her mother, dead and gone at such a young age, leaving her father with three children to care for in an increasingly hostile and uncertain world. She barely remembered her mother. Just vague images of her gentle smile, golden hair and infectious laughter.

  Her father had had a wide, warm smile that brought people to him and put them at ease. She saw it now and then, but not often. The last time she saw him, he was busy preparing for an attack that they thought might turn the tide, at least a little bit. The whole thing had been hush-hush, and ultimately, it failed and he was killed.

  Shouting brought Selah out of her reverie, she saw two familiar figures running toward the bar, and then a group of townspeople following them. It was Kent and Sid, they were sprinting toward her, shouting incoherently.

  She and Nat sprung from their seats and started toward them. What is it now? she thought.

  As they drew nearer, fearful knots formed in her gut; something was definitely wrong. Kent reached her first, gasping as he grabbed her arm and motioned toward the other people who were standing around to come closer.

  “Where’s…Dillon…Gabe?” he panted.

  Selah looked to Nat, who hurriedly went into the bar to retrieve them.

  Sid, who was less winded, delivered the news: “Black Soldiers. We saw them, they are on their way.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Oh my god.” Selah felt as though she had been punched in the stomach.

  She looked around at the small but growing group of her fellow townspeople, all looking panicked, calling for their children and partners. Once an attack started, there was not much that could be done. There was no way to fight them. They were always outnumbered and outgunned.

  Dillon, Garrett and Gabe flew out of the bar, Garrett shouting orders to his men.

  “Go to the station! Get the guns! Tell everyone!” He looked around wildly. “Ruthie, where’s Ruthie?” He spotted a girl who had rushed over to find out what the fuss was about.

  “She’s at home, she’s with Jenna and Sam!”

  “Go get her, tell her to meet me at the station.”

  She ran off, and he started running. Selah looked to Dillon, he nodded and they started after Garrett.

  They ran hard, a growing group of men, women and children, shouting at the houses along the way. Run! Hide! The problem was, there was nowhere to go. Limbo was in the middle of the desert. Outside of town there was nothing but dirt, low brush and highway. There were no vehicles to take them away, no places to hide.

  They reached the station as the first round of firebombs and gunfire started on the outskirts. Panic grew at the sounds of destruction. The station housed what little weapons Limbo had. Garrett opened the locker and began passing out shotguns, assault rifles and pistols to the men.

  When all the weapons were dispersed, he turned to the crowd.

  “Just go. Run and hide. These guns aren’t going to save you, but they may buy you a little time. Take out what you can, and keep going.”

  Ruthie burst through the crowd and Garrett drew her to him. Then they made their way out of the station.

  Selah followed Dillon blindly through crowds of frantic townspeople, running around in different directions, some screaming and shouting. She pulled Nat with her. She had lost sight of Kent, and searched the crowds for him as she ran.

  “Dillon! Where’s Kent?”

  He turned to her briefly and shook his head. She saw Jamie Sherman clutching her daughter to her, frantically searching and calling for her husband. She saw children darting to and fro, wailing for their parents. Kent was nowhere to be found.

  The ground shook, stopped and shook again. She stumbled forward into Dillon. He spun around and grabbed her arm to steady her and they kept going. She didn’t know where they were headed. She was in a full-blown panic, not thinking, just moving. Nat was behind them, but Selah could tell she was struggling to keep up.

  “Where are we going?” she shouted to Dillon, hoping he would hear her above the din.

  He turned back to yell something at her, but a blast just yards from him ripped the words from him before they could form. Selah watched in horror as bodies sailed past her in flames. They halted abruptly, spun around and sprinted in the opposite direction. Nat stumbled and lost her balance. She rose and looked at Selah, then ran away from her.

  Selah screamed after her, “Nat! Nat!” and started to follow her.

  Dillon grabbed her, shook his head and yelled, “C’mon!”

  She pulled away from him. “Nat! I have to get her!”

  He didn’t listen, but continued pulling her through the throngs of people and debris.

  Gunfire could be heard from all sides. Hiding was useless. The bombs would find them even if the soldiers didn’t. But they had to stop, had to collect themselves and think, even if just for a moment. He pulled her into the space between two houses and they crouched down, gasping and looking wildly around to see if they were alone. For a moment, they were.

  Dillon put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. She was sobbing and trying to catch her breath at the same time. It wasn’t working.

  “Shhh. Okay? Stop and focus on breathing.” He tried to be soothing, but it wasn’t working.

  Still, she listened to him, doing her best to slow her breathing and her crying. She felt like vomiting. They were dead for sure if they couldn’t get a handle on their fear and panic. When she had collected herself as much as she could, she looked up into Dillon’s face. Even in the midst of the horror around him, she felt relief and gratitude at his presence.

  “Listen to me,” he said
. “It’s just you and me right now. We have to keep it together.”

  Nodding, she allowed herself to briefly lean into him, and he responded with a brief embrace.

  “We are going to either find a place to hide and hope for the best, or get the hell outta town, and hope for the best. Whichever comes first, okay?”

  Selah nodded. They rose to their feet, took a deep breath and ran.

  To the left, bodies littered the streets. Smoke made visibility minimal. Gunshots and screams were closing in. Ahead, buildings burned. To the right was mostly clear, so they headed in that direction. They ran, trying their best to keep low, to stay close to buildings in case they needed to hide. Dillon had slowed down, keeping Selah in front of him. An odd sound filled the air and just ahead she saw them.

  A line of black soldiers, faces obscured by visors, firing at men, women and children running past.

  She stopped short, looking around to find a place to hide. She turned toward Dillon and watched in horror as he went down. She hadn’t heard a shot but he writhed on the ground and shouted at her to keep going. She didn’t have time to think. She reached down and tried to pull him up. His body was limp, he couldn’t move.

  “Go!”

  “No, I’m not leaving you.”

  She turned to see how close the soldiers had gotten to her and saw a weapon raised and trained right on her. She closed her eyes and darted off to the right, anticipating the bullet’s impact. It didn’t come, and she ran into the space between two buildings, frantically searching for a place to hide. Smoke filled the air and she choked and sobbed and threw open the side door of an abandoned office complex. It was unlocked, which was unusual. Most of the abandoned buildings in town were locked tight, to discourage squatting and illegal activities. There were plenty of them, though, and this one had been sitting open. She found herself in the open air of the ground floor, with giant windows offering a view of the destruction. She searched for a stairway to take her to higher ground. When she found it she ran up to the second floor, and then the third. She threw open doors and frantically searched for a hiding place, cursing herself out loud for abandoning Dillon, Nat and Kent.

  The explosions and gunfire were deafening, almost drowning out the sounds of screams. Almost. She found a janitor closet and tucked herself inside. She waited there, in the dark, but found she couldn’t just sit there. She needed to see what was going on out there.

  The hallway was dark, but she quickly found her way to one of the third floor offices with a clear view of the street below and the surrounding area. The ground was filled with bodies and the soldiers were milling about, walking in between them, crouching down and feeling for pulses, from what she could tell.

  Selah watched in horror as they began dragging bodies off the street. They seemed to be separating them into piles. A Black Soldier began dragging a man by his leg off into one of the piles. He woke from unconsciousness and began jerking violently, freeing his leg and lunging for the black-clad assailant. The soldier removed something that wasn’t a gun from his holster and aimed it at him. The man shuddered and was still, and the soldier resumed dragging him to the pile.

  Selah watched, transfixed and unable to move to a less exposed location. What was going on? As the street cleared, she could hear the hum of a motor coming toward them. A large black truck made its way down the street and stopped right in front of the building. Selah sucked in her breath and waited for the back of the truck to open up, for more soldiers to pour out, but it didn’t happen. The roll-up doors raised, and the soldiers in the street began pulling bodies up into the truck.

  Men, she thought. They are taking the men. She realized that the man who had woken up hadn’t been shot, he had been tazed. She thought back to Dillon. She hadn’t seen a gunshot wound on him, but he was clearly unable to move. She remembered the tales she had heard of the Black Soldiers coming through towns, shooting women and children who were in their path, burning buildings and rounding up the men. It was theorized that they took the men and did something to them, perhaps turning them into Black Soldiers themselves, or using them for slave labor. No one knew, and none had ever come back.

  She watched them load one man after another into the back of the truck. Scatters of gunfire continued in the distance, but seemed to have slowed down. She tried to search the bodies on the ground for Dillon, but there was no way to tell if he was one of the men being loaded up. Finally, exhausted and still fearing that she would be discovered, she retreated back into the closet, praying that this building would be one of the ones left standing.

  Selah had no way to track time in the dark closet. Sometimes it felt like hours had passed, and sometimes, when she was tempted to venture out, it only seemed like minutes. She listened for the sound of explosions and gunfire. When she heard nothing for what seemed like a reasonable amount of time, she left the closet and headed cautiously to the window.

  Chapter Eleven

  A gasp escaped her lips as she viewed the destruction from the third floor window. Fires still burned. Buildings had been leveled. Bodies still lay on the sidewalk. She stood for a moment, numbed by the sights. She saw movement, too. A woman and child limping down the street. A few more people further off. No sign of the Black Soldiers, no sounds of battle. She decided to venture out.

  It was nearing dark when she began her search. She looked up and down the street for the woman and child she had seen, but they were gone. She walked to the spot where she had last seen Dillon. There were a handful of bodies that had been dragged to the sidewalk. Dizziness swept over her, and nausea. She dropped onto her hands and knees, senses overwhelmed by the smell of burned flesh, from the black smoke that filled the air and from the knowledge that everyone she loved was likely dead. Choking sobs wracked her body. She heard Dillon’s voice in her head, urging her to slow down and breath. After a few moments, the nausea passed, and she slowly rose to her feet.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, willing strength to find her, to carry her through this. The urge to return home was strong, as though everything would be okay behind its doors. Her brother, Nat and Dillon would be there, safe and sound. This would not be the case however, and first she needed to search the bodies and look for survivors. Another deep breath, and she headed for the pile of bodies to find Dillon.

  As she worked her way up and down both sides of the street, she noticed something. Although there were bodies of a few men scattered along the street, there weren’t very many. They were far outstripped by the bodies of women and small children. Selah stopped to vomit and cry numerous times as she was confronted with tiny remains and mothers huddled protectively around their children, even in death. What monsters could do this? How? Why?

  The absence of men was in keeping with the Black Soldiers MO: they abducted the men to use as soldiers for their army. How they did it was anyone’s guess. Did they drug them? Rip out their brains and replace them with computers? Brainwash them? No one knew.

  She continued down the street, in the general direction of her home, keeping her eyes peeled for movement and her ears open for the slightest sound. Her vigilance was rewarded quickly, when she heard the sounds of muffled sobs. A woman, holding her baby and rocking it while kneeling over a dead man's body, presumably her husband.

  “Hello?” Selah spoke as gently as she could, not wanting to startle the woman.

  She started up, and then quickly collapsed. This brought fussing from the baby. Selah felt a wash of relief. She had thought the baby dead. It was alive though, and Selah found herself fearing that the noise may bring the enemy back to them.

  “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I am here to help. What can I do?”

  Selah felt the weakness of her words. What could she possibly do? The woman sniffled back snot and tears and let out a bitter laugh.

  “The others came through and tried to get me to leave. I’m not leaving him.” She shook her head violently back and forth, patting her infant and resuming her rocking.

  “Others? How
many? Were there any men?”

  The woman shook her head. “No. No men. They took all that they didn’t kill. Just women and kids left. Not many. Saw a small group pass just a bit ago. Maybe ten, fifteen? I’m not leaving him.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Selah shook her head. She didn’t feel right leaving the woman, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She kept moving.

  “Where do I go?” she asked herself aloud. She still felt pulled toward home, but worried that if she lingered there, she may miss others who might need her help. Home won out, though. “I’ll just go for a couple minutes, then go back to searching.”

  She cut through an alleyway and came out onto the residential street. On this side of town there was less destruction, but it was dead quiet. No bodies littering the street, but she knew in her gut that the homes on her street were empty. She walked as quickly as her rubbery and exhausted legs would carry her, and clambered up the porch steps. She stood against her front door for a moment, listening, but there was only silence. She opened the door and stepped across the threshold. Her breath caught in her throat and became a strangled cry.

  Nat lay draped over the tattered, threadbare sofa. There was blood on the floor, on her and on the couch. She rushed over and gently turned Nat over. She was alive—barely.

  “Oh no, oh no. Nat. Nat,” she cried and smoothed Nat’s hair and searched for the origin of the blood. Much of it looked like it came from cuts on her face and torso. Further investigation revealed the gunshot wound in her lower abdomen.

  Nat’s eyes fluttered open and she managed a weak smile. “Hey Selah. I was hoping you would find me, before…” Nat winced as she shifted to a more comfortable position.

  Selah’s breaths were coming in gasps. She felt dizzy and her hands and feet were numb. Get it together. You’re gonna pass out. Now isn’t the time.

  Struggling to slow her breathing and get enough air to avoid passing out, she shifted her focus from her own fear and grief to her friend. Looking into Nat’s eyes, she squeezed her hand and smiled.