by Steven Bird
“Right this way,” the Latino man said with a very American-sounding accent.
Sounds like a Jersey accent to me, Ed thought, still taking mental notes.
Looking around, trying to get a grasp on their situation, Nate said, “Hey, guys, we need to slow down a bit; since they took my leg, I can only go so fast, even with his help.”
“You had a prosthesis? Who took it?” asked the man of African descent, also seeming to be an American by his speech.
“Your Russian buddies when we first got here. Any chance I can get it back?”
“That wouldn’t be standard procedure, but there isn’t much we can do about it. Those guys basically do their own thing through a different chain of command.”
“Yeah, man, we just work here,” answered the other man.
“That’s above our paygrade, anyway. Our job is to get you in-processed. After that, you’ll be assigned to a dorm leader who will be your point of contact for the duration of your stay in the camp.”
While Nate was conversing with the two men, Ed took advantage of the distraction to glance around. He noticed that inside the wall, there was another similar wall, set back approximately thirty feet from the first one, with two steel doors, one on the left, and one on the right. This inner wall had razor wire coiled around the top as well. “What camp? Where the hell are we and why are you two helping them?”
“Just doin’ our jobs. You’ll have to direct the rest of your questions to your quad leader.”
In reply, Ed grumbled, “What the hell is a quad leader?” He then continued to assist Nate.
The men ignored his question and led them to a camper-style trailer parked in the far right corner, in between the two walls. Reaching the trailer, Nate took hold of the grab handle by the door and hopped inside on one leg, with Ed and the two men in blue following closely behind.
“Who is this?” asked a man inside the trailer wearing a similar uniform. He appeared to have more authority, however, as he wore a sidearm on his belt.
“1242 and 1243,” answered one of the escorts.
Thumbing through a stack of folders, the man with the gun replied, “Okay. Yep; got it right here.”
The Latino man took a position at the door, blocking any egress while the other man stood alongside Ed and Nate.
“Take a seat,” suggested the man with the sidearm. “I’ve got a few things to get done and your cooperation will make your lives much easier.”
Complying, Ed and Nate both took a seat on plastic and metal folding chairs positioned in the middle of the room. The man with the sidearm then did a cursory visual check of Ed and Nate’s physical condition. He looked down at Ed and Nate’s feet and asked, “Any sores on your feet? Most people have issues from going without shoes.”
“We’ll survive,” responded Ed sharply. “May I ask who we have the pleasure of dealing with today?”
“For you, my name is sir. Respond yes, sir or no, sir. That’s all you need to know.” Looking down at Nate’s one bare foot and amputated leg, he chuckled and said, “I guess you aren’t getting away in a hurry.”
Staring at the man, Nate clenched the arms of his chair tightly, trying to control his rage. It was one thing to have an occupying force treat them with such contempt, but having his own countrymen do so filled him with negative emotions he would have to work hard to contain.
“Do either of you have any infectious diseases we should know about? For the safety of the other detainees, of course.”
“No, sir,” Ed replied in a firm tone.
“Well, at least you’ve got my name down. Now, give me your left hand,” he said reaching out to Ed.
Reluctant to comply, Ed asked, “What for?”
“Have you already forgotten the simple piece of advice I gave you?” the man said, putting his hands on the table to lean down to look Ed directly in the eyes. “There are things to get done, and they will be done. The condition you are in when it’s all over is the only thing you have control over at this point, and you don’t have that control for much longer. Now, give me your damn left hand,” he said insistently, reaching out to Ed.
Ed looked at Nate, still not complying with the order when an electrical shock went through his body, sending him falling to the floor, unable to control his muscles.
Feeling a hand around his throat as he began to regain control of his body, Ed attempted to resist, but realized that the other two men were standing on top of each of his arms. The man with the sidearm was breathing directly into Ed’s face, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it impossible for him to get more than an occasional gasp of breath.
“I told you what was going to happen. Now it’s going to happen like this.”
Releasing his grip on Ed’s throat, he picked up a device that resembled a rivet gun, put it around Ed’s hand, and popped the handle, sending a stinging pain into the meat of his hand. He then leaned back down into close proximity of Ed’s face, his foul breath reeking of onions and the smell of putrid meat, and said, “Now resist me again. Please… give me an excuse.” Patting Ed on the cheek, he stood up, looked at Nate, and said, “Your turn, cripple boy. Give me your left hand.”
Begrudgingly, Nate complied.
The man picked up a second device, verified a piece of paper lying next to it on the table, and then clamped it onto Nate’s hand, popping it, and sending the same pain sensation through him. Nate felt as if a nail had been driven through his hand.
Removing the device from Nate’s hand and inspecting the small red mark it left behind, he looked at Nate and said, “See how much easier it works around here when you just do as you’re told?”
“Yes, sir,” Nate responded with a flat, monotone voice.
“Now, you two will be assigned to quad two. The gentlemen here standing on your friend’s arms will escort you there and get you checked in.” Looking back at Ed on the floor, he continued, “And if you don’t immediately comply with any orders they give you, they have my permission to beat you to within an inch of your life. Lose the tough guy shit before it gets you killed. Do you understand?”
Ed nodded to the affirmative as the guards released the pressure from his arms, allowing him to recover to the seated position of the chair.
“Now, you’ll be staying in quad two as I said. You’ll have a quad leader that changes with each shift rotation, but while on duty, he is your God. You will be fed twice each day. Your quad will eat together, sleep together, and use the toilet together. You’ll do nothing without your quad, and it will all be at the discretion of your quad leader. The quad leader’s decisions are final and will not be challenged. Now that we have all of that squared away, do you have any questions?”
“Yes sir,” replied Nate.
“Go ahead.”
“We still don’t really know what’s going on. How long are we going to be here, and what is the legal process that will determine that?”
“Good question, but that’s not the concern of anyone here. You are here indefinitely as far as the leadership of the camp is concerned. If someone well above our pay grades wants you out, you’ll get out; otherwise, consider it home. Now, if that’s all, these gentlemen will escort you to quad two.”
“But how can someone detain us indefinitely without due process? Is this not still America? Do we not still have our basic constitutional rights?
“Subsections 1021–1022 of Title X, Subtitle D of the National Defense Authorization Act was signed into law on December 31, 2011, and has been reaffirmed every year since. Like it or not, it’s the law of the land. If the government expects that you are involved with terrorist activities, you can be held indefinitely, without trial or due process.”
Nate knew the answer long before it was given. He had been studying the actions and trends of the government before the collapse. He just wanted to hear it directly from this man, who now seemed to wield total authority over him. And with that, Ed and Nate were led out of the trailer by the two escorts without another word be
ing spoken. Ed stepped down from the trailer’s metal steps, cringing as his weight pushed the gravel making up the surface of the compound against his bare foot. He then stood by the steps, up against the trailer, so that Nate could lean on his shoulder while he hopped down on one foot. Ed helped ease him down from the last step onto the gravel below.
The two escorts then led them back in the direction they had come, beyond the main door in the center of the sheet metal compound wall, to another sliding metal door on the inner compound wall. As they walked, they looked around, trying to learn as much as they could about their new environment. Both the inner and outer sheet metal walls were approximately ten feet high with razor wire coiled on top. There was a distance of approximately thirty feet between the walls, and in each corner of the outer wall there was a guard shack with what appeared to be a guard armed with some sort of rifle, although it was hard to discern any details, as the guards stood in the shade of the interior of the tower’s guard shack.
All of the guards seemed to wear the same solid-color navy blue BDU style uniform, with a plain blue ball cap with no official logo. They had no nametapes sewn onto their uniform tops in the normal position, just a number. Some of the guards had numbers embroidered with white thread, while others were in yellow or gold thread. The men wearing the yellow-threaded numbers seemed to be the ones with authority over the others.
As they approached a sliding metal door on the interior wall, a guard on the ground received a visual signal from the adjacent watchtower and slid the gate open. Ed and Nate were then led inside, where they found a sheet metal building in the center of a large graveled courtyard. The lower floor of the building had a steel entry door with a guard posted next to it, while the upper level of the building seemed to contain an overwatch facility with windows on all sides.
In the very center of the compound, where the inner walls seemed to all come together, was a flagpole with a United Nations flag flying above an American flag. This enraged both Ed and Nate. Someone is clearly trying to make a point about who is really in charge around here, they thought.
After the door had slid shut with a noisy cacophony of metallic sheet metal clangs and scrapes, they turned around to see that their escorts were gone. Turning back toward the building in the center of the gravel-covered square, they saw a door open on the upper level of the building, with three men exiting and climbing down a narrow retractable metal staircase.
The three men approached them, one of which was of African descent, while the other two were of European decent. One of the Anglo-looking men stepped out in front of the other two with a scowl on his face. The one difference that both Ed and Nate immediately noticed was that his uniform was embroidered with red stitching instead of yellow or white. The man said in a firm voice, “I’m the quad leader for quad two. You are now residents of quad two. The rules here are simple; do what you’re told, when you’re told, and everyone will treat you fairly. Step out of line, and you will be treated as a hostile threat and dealt with as such. If you try to escape, you will be shot. There are no blind spots here at Camp Twenty-one. When mealtime approaches, you will be led into the chow hall located in the center of the compound through that door,” he said as he pointed to the far right corner of the graveled square, behind the center building.
Quad two will eat together, sleep together, and shit together. There are no individuals here. If you have an altercation with another resident, the most recent addition to the quad of those involved will be relocated to one of the other quads. This, of course, will only happen once. You will be dealt with on another level if problems with discipline and good order persist beyond your relocation. During the day, weather permitting, you will spend the day out here in the courtyard. At night, you and your quad mates will be secured inside the quad barracks behind me,” he said gesturing to the lower level of the central building.
“When we open and close the quad door through which you just entered, all quad residents will be secured in the barracks until such time that I deem the quad secure. It’s pretty straightforward, really. Am I going to have a problem out of either of you?”
“No, sir,” replied Nate quickly before Ed could respond. He knew Ed’s penchant for getting under people’s skin wouldn’t serve them well here, as they had already seen.
“Good,” the quad leader said. He then motioned to the guard to his left who had a digital scanning device of some sort in his hand. The guard reached the device out to Ed’s left hand and waved it around until it beeped. He read something off of the scanner’s display, verified it against a computer printout, and then moved on to Nate, repeating the process. The guard nodded in the affirmative, and satisfied with the results, he turned and walked back toward the building, ascending the stairs to the upper level. Once he was topside, he signaled for the lower-level doors of the inner building to open.
Chapter Eleven: Mutual Acquaintances
As the sunlight shined through a gap in the curtains, Jason awoke to find himself on the sofa in Carl’s living room. Looking around, he saw Evan still sound asleep on a sleeping bag on the floor. He’s probably still knocked out from those pain pills Patricia gave him, he thought to himself. Oh well, his old butt needs the rest.
Smelling the mouthwatering scent of fresh eggs, Jason sat up and looked around. Seeing no one else in the living room, he stood up and stretched with a yawn. He walked over to the kitchen to see Patricia cooking up a large breakfast including eggs, some sort of flat bread, and what appeared to be sausage. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said, announcing his presence.
“Oh, good morning,” she replied. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all, ma’am. I’m surprised I slept as long as I did.”
“Ted is out doing a security sweep of the property. Carl’s out in the shed getting some things together. They’ll both be back soon and we’ll all sit down and eat.”
“You have no idea how good that smells. We haven’t had fresh eggs since we left home.”
Patricia smiled and said, “Yes, I don’t know what I would do without our flock of chickens. They are so easy to keep and we always have fresh eggs and meat when we need it. This sausage is venison. It’s kind of mild since I am almost out of spices, but it is a protein and that’s what really matters. Carl and Ted are quite the hunters. I’m truly blessed to have men like them around in these times.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jason replied as he turned to see Ted entering the house through the front door.
“All is clear,” he said as he hung his well-worn, brown outback-style hat on the coat rack. “Oh, good morning,” he said, noticing Jason standing in the kitchen with Patricia.
“Good morning. No signs of hostiles in the area?” Jason replied.
“No, I didn’t see a thing. I heard a helicopter flying off in the distance. I never got a look at it, but it sounded big. How’s your friend?”
“He’s still asleep.”
“Those pain pills like Patricia gave him knock me out cold every time. Lortabs, I think. She had them left over from a tooth extraction that festered up a bit. I avoid pain pills, personally. I hate being out of sorts these days. You never know when something is going to happen, but sometimes you just have to get some rest and let your body heal or you won’t be any use to anyone.”
“Yeah, he definitely needed it. We’ve had a rough go of things lately.”
“My ears are burning; are you talking about me?” said Evan as he sat up in his sleeping bag.
“Yep. I was just telling them how you keep slowing me down,” replied Jason with a nod.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to boost your own self-esteem,” Evan said with a chuckle as he stretched, only to wince in pain from his side with the movements.
“You gonna live?” Jason asked.
“Probably. So what’s the plan?” Evan stood up, wobbling back and forth before regaining his balance.
“The plan this morning is to sit down to a wonderful breakfast, complime
nts of my beautiful wife, here,” Ted said, massaging Patricia’s shoulders from behind as she cooked. “We can worry about what comes next after we eat and chat for a while.”
“Compliments of you and Carl,” Patricia replied, blushing at his compliments and affection. “I wouldn’t have anything to cook if you two didn’t either raise it or hunt it all.”
“We’ve gotta earn our keep, somehow,” he said.
“How’s your side, Evan?” she asked as he joined the other men in the kitchen.
“It still hurts, but it feels much better. Do you have any more bandages you can spare for our trip home? I think I’ve pretty much seeped through these already.”
“Of course; I’ll cut up some old t-shirts or something and change your dressings before you leave.”
~~~~
As they sat down for breakfast around the large rectangular dining room table, Carl sat next to his daughter and granddaughter, Ted and Patricia sat opposite them, and Evan and Jason sat at opposing ends. Patricia had prepared the table with a lovely setting as if it was a special occasion.
“Forgive me for the formalities of the meal, gentlemen. I don’t get a chance to entertain very often, so I have to put my skills to use whenever I get the chance,” Patricia said with blushing cheeks.
“We appreciate every detail, ma’am,” replied Evan.
“Yes, we do,” added Jason. “We’ve needed some civility in our lives as of late. You can only sleep on the ground and eat squirrel so many times before you need to be reminded what life is supposed to be like.”
Carl took Vanessa’s hand, reached out to Evan next to him, and said, “If everyone could indulge me, I would like to say grace.” Everyone joined hands, closed their eyes, and bowed their heads. “Our heavenly Father, we thank you for the ability to welcome our new friends into our home and provide them with some much-needed nourishment. Father, please ease the burden on Vanessa’s and Audrey’s hearts as they cope with the loss of their dear husband and father. May his memory and the example he set continue to guide young Audrey as she faces the many challenges of this world. Guide us all through these trying times and help us persevere; no matter what comes our way, please help us all to keep your love in our hearts. In your name we pray, Amen.”