by Clary, LeRoy
“They will find you.”
She snapped back, “I’m not disputing that. However, the reason for this questioning is not what you perceive. Let me lay it out for you, Danner. We believe you that they will find us. Soon. We can understand that. Going above ground with our haircuts, white skin, and lack of survival knowledge will instantly identify us. We know that, too. People up there hate us and will kill us on sight, we hear. All true?”
“All true.”
Hands placed on hips, she leaned forward, and her voice rose for the first time, “You’re telling us, in effect, we can’t stay here, and we can’t leave. Either way, we’re going to die in a short time. Why did you bother to even come here?”
After shifting so I could meet the eyes of everyone in the room around me, I said softly, “I have an idea.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“An idea? Do you have an idea? That’s all you can say?” Maggie demanded heatedly.
Others in the room were also getting angry and scared. They started talking between themselves, a few shouted to be heard. It seemed an impossible situation for them and if I hadn’t come with my warnings, they would have enjoyed their last days of life without worry.
I held up my hands, palms out, and said, “Quiet, all of you. I can’t talk over you.”
“Shut up,” Maggie snapped. “Danner, what’s on your mind?”
The room was as still as if someone had died. Not even a throat was cleared as they turned their total attention to me. “This is an idea to build on, not a plan. We can revise it later, but this is the only way to survive. Remember you asked how Mayfield and I killed eighteen soldiers? We did it with surprise and superior weapons. Our rifles were silenced. We took out a few at a time, always out of sight of the others.”
I gave them a few moments to think about that.
I continued, “Sir Wilson has his headquarters a half-mile from here, all downhill. Most of you know the navy base. He has installed several watchtowers and enforced the wall with old cars and stuff. I don’t know how many men, but not over a thousand would be my guess, some are being trained and others are recently trained but without experience. He is increasing the size so he can attack a neighboring kingdom.”
Maggie said, “So he may have less than five hundred combat troops?”
“Probably far less than that. And those will have inferior weapons with limited ammo. You people down here can field over two thousand if you have women fighting. Better weapons and four or five-to-one numbers superiority. It should be an easy battle.”
She smiled and ignored the cut on her lip as it started to bleed again. “You want us to attack his base and take it over.”
“If that happens, then you control the base, the defensive walls, warehouses stocked with food, and watchtowers. You have the numbers and the weapons to keep others out until you can make future plans.”
“What sort of plans?” she demanded.
“I don’t know. Let a few people at a time leave after you get suntans and learn to survive? Capture enough boats to sail away? Offer to join up with others to secure a safe place to live? People in Everett and the surrounding areas are sick of the Sir Wilson’s of the world taking their cattle and crops and getting nothing in return. Enlist them to work with you.”
Maggie was still smiling. She said, “Are you sure you’re only sixteen?”
“Yes.”
“Well, your plan needs refining, but overall, I like it.” She turned and faced the others in the room. “What do you think?”
Heads nodded, smiles appeared, and I settled back. The drugs had started wearing off earlier and I’d fought them. Now, I let them take control and my eyes closed.
When I woke again, there were three unknown people in the room. One leaped to his feet and raced away. As my mind unclouded, Maggie strode into the room.
She wore baggy camouflage army pants and blouse, the same as the ones we’d worn. Around her waist was a nylon web-belt with a nine-millimeter pistol on her right and two pouches for spare magazines on her left.
She said, “How do I look?”
“I like it.”
“There are well over three thousand of us down here. Half are too young, too old, or not mentally fit to fight. The fifteen hundred left have no experience. Fortunately, we do have dozens who have military experience. Normal routines are being performed by those who will not fight. The rest of us are training.”
I grinned.
She said, “Which brings us to you. How are you feeling?”
“Good. Very good.”
“Good enough to get up and walk?”
“Maybe.”
“Do it. We have things to do.”
I moved my legs to the edge of the bed and over the side. A wave of dizziness swept over me, but I ignored it. Once on my feet, I placed a hand on the wall to steady myself. A young woman moved to my other side, just in case.
“What are we going to do?”
Maggie said as we walked down a passage and I watched the people dive to the sides to give me room to move. All were smiling and most muttered words of encouragement as we passed by.
Maggie took me into the same room where the council had met with me. The feeling was eerie, as I settled into a chair with my chin resting on my palm, my elbow on the table.
There were about ten people in the room, all wearing military clothing.
Maggie remained on her feet. She motioned with a wave of her arm to the others and said, “Besides training, we’re planning. Your input would help.”
“Of course.”
“Before our major attack, we have decided we need people positioned up there. If this Sir Wilson character is mounting an attack on us or finds our location, we need to know. That means we need a few people up there as spies.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
She continued, “We also want to spy on the navy base. Identify weaknesses and how to best attack them.”
That also made sense and didn’t require me to tell her that.
Maggie moved to a map pinned to the wall I hadn’t noticed. It was hand-drawn but easily recognized as part of Everett and the base below. She said, “You have experience up there. Would you be willing to instruct a squad of men? Teach them what to expect up there before you go, and if you’re healthy enough, accompany them?”
That got my attention. While I didn’t know how long I’d been recovering from my beating, Tess and Bream were the kinds of friends who would remain in the area and wait for me. “I’ll do it.”
“You haven’t even heard the plan we’ve put together,” Maggie said.
My chin came off my palm. “Listen, I have two friends up there who are both much more valuable than me. While I’ve been down here, they have been up there and learned God knows what, and what they’ve gathered may make the difference in success for failure.”
A man sitting to my right drew my attention. He held up a pink pistol. “Is this yours?”
I accepted it, along with a new web belt with a Velcro closer, holster, and pouches for spare magazines, both filled to capacity. “Thanks.”
He said, “Mind telling us what happened to it? I mean, to turn it that color?”
I wanted to laugh but didn’t. Instead, in all earnestness, I said, “A new weapon like this is worth killing for. There is nothing new up there. No clothing, shoes, guns, or anything else. New weapons, clothing, or anything else tells everyone you are from down here and that will cost you your lives before the first day is done.”
They exchanged looks that told me they were proud of how they looked—and that perhaps they were wrong to dress as they had.
I said, “Just so we get off on the right foot, those in the first squad I’m taking up will dress in rags with patches. Their weapons will appear battered and aged. I will personally inspect each of them and reject any who fail. There will be no more treatment for facial hair and no haircuts. Hats will be worn to disguise the short hair.”
A man of about fifty with a milita
ry bearing stood. “Now, just a moment. An army that looks good will intimidate the enemy.”
“Up there, everyone is your enemy. You don’t get it but listen to me. When you closed the outer doors nine years ago, you sentenced every person on the surface to death while you slunk down here. They starved, faced bombs and missiles, the collapse of the economy, and rampant disease, while you slept between clean sheets and ate three meals a day in a temperature-controlled environment.” I paused. “Those are not my words. They were told to me by a survivor. It’s how they think of you. And me.”
His face reddened. He said, “We were the highest levels of government and military. The leaders of our country. That’s why we were selected.”
“And you cut and ran, leaving them to face the world alone. They hate you. Not just Sir Wilson and his army, but every farmer, woodsman, thief, carpenter, and baker, hates you. If one of them kills one of us, there is a celebration by all.”
He sat down muttering about it being unfair.
Maggie said, “That is why we need Danner. Anyone else want to argue with him?”
“You need patched and dirty clothing for everyone. I’m hoping if we defeat Sir Wilson the others will be grateful and cut us some slack. If not, we will have a defensible position and the weapons to hold it until we blend in.”
When they left me alone in the room, my new squad consisting of ten entered.
They were young, most under twenty, and clean. Their uniforms matched and were not only new but the material still as crisp as ours had been. They stood at attention when an order was barked, their toes along an invisible line, their shoulders back, their chins too, which made their chests stand out.
All were strong, healthy, males.
I nodded to the one who had ordered them to stand at attention. He wore two chevrons on his new sleeves. I said to him, “Go shut the door.”
When he returned, I’d already chosen a few words to begin. “Sit down, relax, and listen to me. Here is what’s going to happen. Half of you will fail my tests and be replaced with women. I want at least seven females in here to train with us by the end of today.”
They didn’t like either the idea of women or that half of them would fail.
I went on. “Despite what you’ve seen in pictures, we are not going up there looking like you do. In an hour you would all be dead.”
I pulled my pink gun, with the paint that had smeared and run down the handle in dribbles. There were a few snickers and a gasp. I calmly responded in a dry tone, “It still needs work to disguise it more. I may use a file to put some serious scrapes on it.”
To the two-striper, I said, “I want cans of paint, several colors, black grease, and charcoal if you have it.”
He didn’t move so I stood and went to him. He wore a beautiful, gleaming knife at his waist. I removed it before he could protest, tested the edge with my thumb and approved of it. Then, before he could react, grasped the sleeve with the chevrons and ran the blade through it, up near the shoulder. I sliced the fabric around his bicep and pulled the sleeve I’d cut off down over his wrist and hand with one yank.
He was in shock. I said, “Pay attention. Everyone in your squad already knows who you are and that you are in charge. Those chevrons on that sleeve will tell our enemies who to kill first, which will be you. You will be the first to die with those on your arm. Now, go get those supplies. And bring me women able to fight.”
He spun and raced out the door, one sleeve missing.
I faced the men. “Anyone here ever had training in hand-to-hand combat?”
None responded. I said to the nearest, “Why were you selected for this mission?”
“I’m young and strong. And brave.”
“And you?” I asked another.
“I’m strong, too. I can do more pushups than anyone.”
His uniform was impeccable. “How are you at crawling through mud at midnight?”
His reaction told me he wasn’t prepared. The reason I didn’t like them was simple. They were near my age, so they only remembered a little of what it was like up there. If they were raised in a prosperous family, none had ever crawled through the mud. They wouldn’t last a day out there.
“Remove your uniforms. Place them on the floor and leave.”
“Sir?” One asked, perplexed.
They didn’t deserve to be treated like that. “Listen, I’m sorry, guys. Someone has made a mistake in choosing those I need to take with me. I must have older people who lived outside and understand what it’s like out there. This is nothing personal, but I want you all to get out of those ridiculous uniforms and leave your weapons behind.”
They responded as if slapped across their faces. I turned my back to them. When I didn’t hear enough movement, I said, “You have sixty seconds before facing my punishment.”
Grunts and rapid actions resulted. When I turned, nobody remained. That was good because I had no idea of how to punish them.
The corporal entered a short time later, obviously having spoken with his men. His arms were loaded with the things I’d sent him for and as he placed the paint and grease on a table, along with a pile of clothing nine years old, I spoke before he could. “I want replacements, all over thirty, and I want those women here, too. At least seven or eight of each sex. Any questions?”
“The women over thirty, too?”
“Yes.”
“Me?”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five, almost twenty-six.”
“Okay, you get me the people I need, and you maybe can remain. I want a squad of people who you believe will take a swing at you if you tell them something they don’t like. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He as much as flew out the door. I busied myself collecting the guns and magazines. The belts went on the next table and the uniforms on the next.
A woman in her mid-thirties arrived, wearing a scowl. She didn’t hesitate to approach me.
I said, “If I order you to punch me on my chin, will you do it?”
Her scowl deepened and then was replaced with a sly smile. “With pleasure.”
“Do it.” Before the two words were out of my mouth, her fist swung at where my head had been before pulling back. She missed, but that was not important. She was willing to fight.
“Please take a seat and help me evaluate the next recruits. If you know one will not fight or you have doubts, place both palms on the table in front of you. Remember, those we select will either save us or cost us our lives. I need people who will not hesitate to shoot a stranger who might shoot us if not killed first. We will shoot first and if we make a mistake, it will be on me.”
She sat. Didn’t say another word, didn’t ask useless questions. I liked her already.
Another woman entered, nearer forty, with large shoulders and a bit of a swagger.
I said, “Ever been in a fistfight?”
“Used to tend bar in a cowboy club. Had to act as bouncer a time or two.”
“Welcome. Take a seat. Talk to that other woman and follow her lead.”
A man had entered. When I turned to face him, he said, “What the hell is this about?”
“I need people who have fought or are willing to.”
He pulled his chin in, stood erect and said, “Three tours on the ground overseas. Who’re you?”
Something wasn’t sitting right with me. From the corner of my eye, I saw there were four palms flat on the table. “Dismissed.”
When the door closed behind him, I asked the two women, “Why? Not that I disagree because I would have rejected him without you. Gut feeling.”
The first woman said, “Three tours overseas somewhere, but he worked as a storekeeper in a warehouse. Never saw combat.”
Very good answer. Another man entered. All three of us liked him and he took a seat. The scene was repeated over and over, with about half rejected. We finished with nine, four women and five men.
I sorted through the used
clothing articles stored and sent two other men after more of them while we smeared a thin coat of paint on the pistols that arrived later. A couple of metal files roughed them up and exposed bare metal under the original paint, so they looked scuffed. It didn’t take long to put a few dings and dents in them. My squad was having fun inventing new ways to make the weapons look used without harming any critical parts.
While they did that, I talked to them.
They had heard rumors and most had taken part in the recent revolution. I told them the truth laced with bare facts. I pushed to see if any wanted to remain living below. I wouldn’t blame them if they did, but not one looked like they even considered it.
“How dangerous?” one man asked.
He didn’t seem scared, just asking a reasonable question. I answered as honestly as possible. “I don’t know. If we move together and do only what needs to be done, we should be fine. We are not going to attack, only reconnoiter. If this Sir Wilson character has sniffed out the location of the entrance to this sanctuary, it could get rough. We won’t back down from a fight.”
The additional clothing arrived. Arms full, and at least five people to deliver it. The pile in the middle of the floor was impressive. We didn’t need much. I chose drab colors and told them oversize would let them carry weapons hidden underneath.
A woman asked, “When are we going to go? I mean, how long are we going to train before we venture out there?”
“An hour,” I told her. “More if we need it.”
That brought the activity to a complete halt. They had expected weeks, if not months.
I said with a wave of my arm, “There is no time to teach you how to shoot a gun or fight, let alone how to crawl on your belly with an enemy a hundred feet away. If we do this right, we’re only going to gather information. But know this. Any plan can fall apart at any time and I’m depending on you shooting to kill without hesitation.”
Their full attention was on me. There were no more games, no jokes as they climbed into loose shirts, pants, and old shoes. We cut material and used it to sew fake patches here and there.
I continued while we sewed, “We may go out there and find a hundred guns waiting for us when we crawl out. We may have a battle right there and none of us will survive it. Only people willing and able to fight are going with me. Some of us may not be alive in an hour. You can still walk out the door with no hard feelings. I’d prefer you to do that rather than let us down when we are outside.”