by Greg Dragon
Grandpa frowned and turned away. “No. That is what I hope will give us an edge tonight.”
“Tonight?” I asked as a heaviness settled into my stomach. “What will the gravel and glass do?”
He pointed to the inside of the large open speaker. “Inside there will be the normal speaker parts, but also explosives and a radio controlled detonator. The gravel and glass will be packed around it all to serve as projectiles that should at least wound anyone nearby when it goes off.”
There was so much of what he was saying that didn’t make sense to me, but one part was clear. “But what about the Chit Girls? They’ll be in there too.”
That frequent sadness pulled at Grandpa’s expression. “We’re going to try to warn them, but we’re not sure which can be trusted. A few are with us, but they’ve warned us to be wary of the rest.”
“But they’re part of us. They’re not with the Shriekers.”
“That’s true, but some of those women are so beat down that they would never think of crossing their masters. That’s one of the crimes of the Chit and the abuse it brings. It tends to take away your free will while making you grateful for the degradation.”
“It doesn’t seem right.”
“Nothing about this situation is right. We have to make hard choices here and consider the greater good. If we’re going to succeed we can’t take any chances that someone might tip the Shriekers off.”
I picked up a handful of glass and squeezed it lightly in my hand. As I opened my hand again I saw a thin line of blood on my palm. There was no pain yet, just that small red slash. I told myself that hopefully, there would be no pain for any innocent harmed by Grandpa’s speaker. I was probably lying to myself. The broken glass with my blood on it trickled back into the pail.
“I need you to go to Reuben’s for me. Tell him it will be tonight and to send everything he has.”
“Everything of what?”
“He’ll know. Now go, Teal, and be careful.”
I already knew to be careful, still I heeded his words anew. Staying within the shelter of buildings as much as possible I watched carefully for Protectors before walking quickly to the next building and repeating the process. All the while my heart felt like it was beating too fast and I debated for perhaps the hundredth time if I have done right by setting all this into motion.
Reuben’s house was easy to find. Like our home it had a small shed in the back, but this one had wood piled up around the outside along with baskets of rotting and half frozen peaches. The heavy smell of fermentation made me wrinkle my nose.
I knocked on the outer door lightly and then entered. Reuben was tending a fire under a large enclosed copper bowl. He wore a thick leather apron and dirty gloves.
“Teal,” Reuben was not surprised. “On an errand from your grandfather I suspect.”
He also wasn’t drunk. “Yes. Grandpa said tonight is the night and to send everything you got.”
Reuben nodded and turned back to his work.
“All of what? What are you sending and to where?”
“Peach hard liquor, best in town,” Reuben answered grinning. “Wine goes further, but the hard stuff is stronger. We want the Shriekers to have as little of their senses as possible when the time comes.”
I thought of that handful of bloody glass. “Why not just poison them?”
Now Reuben is surprised and possibly there was a slight bit of respect. “A good idea. We talked about it, but none of us knows enough about poisons.”
“Lots of things are poisonous,” I said. “Surely we could put something in.”
“Yes, but it wouldn’t be tasteless. No one knows of any poison that can be added that won’t alter the taste. And for all their lack of sophistication, the Shriekers like their alcohol to taste a certain way. I earned myself enough whippings to learn that.”
I had not been in here before. Various tubes and containers were tucked everywhere. A clear liquid dripped into a large ceramic jug next to others of its like. The fumes were starting to make me dizzy.
“Was there something else?” he cocked his head. “You want to try a little bit?”
“No,” I retreated towards the door.
“Suit yourself,” his back was already to me as he kept working.
Closing the shed door I pulled my coat up around my neck to keep out the bitter wind. Making my way to my Afternoon Shift in the goat field I tried not to think about what would happen to us if we were found out.
Or failed.
***
The Old Ones and most of those Of Age were noticeably absent from the Remembering that night, all except Broily who had to play his part.
“I want to go with you,” I’d told Grandpa.
“We need to keep up appearances as much as possible,” he answered. “Every house has to have someone there to put the little ones to bed and settled down. We don’t want them worrying. You’ve got Victor to take care of.”
“But after he’s asleep, can I come join you?”
Grunting he nodded his head reluctantly. “Yes. We’re gathering at your grandmother’s old bridal shop. Come when you can.”
“You won’t start without me will you?”
“No, it will likely be late,” he answered sternly. “You seem in a damn hurry to get yourself killed.”
I shook my head. “I’m responsible for all this. At least in part. I should be there, no matter how it turns out.”
His eyes softened. “You’re not responsible. I know you think that, but we would have had to do something eventually. You just helped me see the truth. No matter how things turn out tonight, this is not your doing or your fault.”
“You sound as if you expect us to fail.”
“No, this is a good plan. The best one we could come up with, but it hinges on women and girls being willing to fight the Shriekers. They think they can, but until the actual moment, who knows? Very few of us here have ever dared defy them or even remember how to fight. There’s a lot of ingrained submission in this town. Success will depend on whether we can overcome that habit or not.”
I thought of Mother with her knife and knew she would fight. I hoped she didn’t do it alone and determined that at least she would have me by her side.
“It’s dark and we have to go now,” Grandpa said. “After the Remembering, and once Victor is bedded down, you make your way to the shop.”
Now I was sitting in the Meeting Hall and listening to Broily drone on. Normally fascinated by his tales, I couldn’t concentrate tonight. Most of the room seemed pensive and out of sorts. Small children cried or squealed and older siblings reacted sternly, worry on their faces.
“The cities were the worst,” said Broily softly. “Once the government had broken down, not even food subsidies arrived. Millions of people crammed into sprawling urban areas with not enough food and water, even after most had died off. Transportation had ceased so nothing arrived and it was impossible to leave. Groups of desperate men and women banded together and preyed on each other.”
“And everyone had to eat bodies,” said little Samantha. “That’s nasty.”
“That mostly came later,” answered Broily, “although I’m sure some did terrible things to survive. Fires raged in the cities day and night. The fumes and smoke killed many and drove more away from shelter and into areas where they were easy prey for the gangs.”
“Road gangs?” asked Bobby a young teenager.
“These were just gangs. The road gangs had motorcycles and were already around before the End. When the world started to fall apart, they roamed the highways killing and robbing those trapped in long lines of cars. They had nowhere to go and, unlike the cars, the motorcycles could make their way through the packed lines of stationary vehicles.”
“Is that what the Shriekers did?” asked Jenny, a little redhead.
“I imagine it was,” said Broily, “but we don’t know much about them before they came here.”
“And now they protect us,” said J
enny cheerfully. “My momma says that without the Protectors we’d all be dead. We pray for them every night.”
“That’s very good,” said Broily with the tired Sad One smile. “We should all pray for each other this night and for our town. Now I think that’s enough for tonight. Off to bed, little ones.”
“What about the Knights of the Watch?” asked Samantha in the stalling tactic that never failed.
“Not tonight,” the old man said surprising us all. “Now everyone go off to bed, your mothers will be along soon, there’re doing important work tonight.”
The children and older siblings quietly made their way out of the Meeting Hall and back to the Dormitory or their homes. Victor walked silently beside me and I am grateful for his presence. We both look up at the clear sky and the stars that seemed to go on forever.
“What wrong, Teal?” Victor asked suddenly.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I answered surprised at his intuitiveness.
“Where Miss Margaret? Where Grandpa?”
“They’re busy doing something for the Protectors,” I answered. “They’ll be home soon, now let’s get inside out of the cold.”
I stirred up the fire and put on another log. On second thought, I added another just in case we were gone longer than I expected. Laying out Victor’s pallet I looked at him expectantly, and he dutifully takes off his boots and lies down in front of the fire cradling his rainmaker in his arms. After draping a blanket over his huge shoulders I sat in Grandpa’s chair.
“You stay with me?” asked Victor.
“I’ll be right here,” I lie. “Just go to sleep.”
I waited until I heard his loud snores before arising. Starting to walk out the door I stopped and stared at Victor for a few minutes, wondering what would happen to him if we didn’t return. On impulse I walked over and gently kissed him on the forehead and brushed the hair out of his face. He smiled sleepily and rolled over.
Putting on my coat, I walked out the door of our home into the expectant darkness.
***
At first I thought they were all gone, but then I see the slight movement in the back of the bridal shop. I had forgotten how large the interior was and the fact that there are storerooms in the back. Nearly eighty people were crammed together, makeshift spears, clubs, and axes in shaking hands or leaning against walls.
Grandpa and Mother were the closest to the front. He was in his wheelchair and she stood behind him. Both were looking out the shattered front windows at the Shrieker House across the courthouse lawn. He had a blanket in his lap against the cold, but I could tell there was something bulky under the blanket.
“When?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Grandpa said. “We want them to be as tipsy as possible. The music gets louder as they get drunker. We have many hours to go yet. Just relax.”
I paced for a while and talked to the other girls, but everyone is too nervous for conversation. Finally, I went and sat down near Grandpa and Mother, leaning back against the side of his wheelchair and burrowing under the edge of the blanket in his lap.
I dreamt I was in the goat field and it was a beautiful day. The goats and dogs were all around me and I’m the only human in sight. Worriedly I searched the perimeter for the Protectors or other girls, but I am alone and it’s getting dark. A familiar sound made me squint through the dim light. A faint growl. Soon all the dogs have taken up the warning. I looked for the threat, but see none and notice the dogs have surrounded me and the goats. They are growling at us. A dog leapt on a baby goat and tore its throat out and I yelled for him stop. The goats are in a panic now bleating and screaming in fear and pain as the dogs attacked from all directions. Suddenly it is quiet and all the goats are dead. I am surrounded by a ring of hungry dogs with glowing eyes. Turning, I looked for a way out as they stalk forward. I screamed as the dogs leapt and bore me to the ground.
Someone was shaking my shoulder. Awaking with a start I realized the music was much louder. There was also activity in the shop. Small groups of women were leaving together carrying their makeshift weapons.
“It’s time,” said Mother her hand resting on my shoulder. Her hand moved from my shoulder to my cheek and she smiled so tenderly at me. Then she was gone.
“Where’s Mother going?” I asked.
“The women have selected your mother to be in charge of the east section of the perimeter,” Grandpa explained. “That’s right behind the Shrieker House and the route they might try to escape.”
“Where’s my sector?”
“You’ll stay with me.”
“But I want to fight too,” I protested and searched around for a weapon.
“Oh, we’ll fight, but you’re going to help me first.”
“Help with what?”
Instead of answering he pulled the blanket off his lap. I noticed he is wearing the thick leather caps over his stumps that he used whenever the wheelchair was impractical. I also saw a strange contraption in his lap. He picked up a heavy round circular metal object that is somehow familiar.
“An alternator, only smaller,” he said. “You’ll remember I said it creates electricity and that’s what we need to set it off.”
I didn’t have to ask what was going to be set off. A chill ran down my back, but I took the proffered object from his hands. Two wires ran from the alternator to the back of a small plastic device with an antenna sticking up that fit in Grandpa’s hand.
“When I say, you stick that under one arm and turn the hand crank on the end like your life depends on it.”
We stared out at the Shrieker House silently for long pregnant minutes. “I guess that’s long enough,” Grandpa sighed. “Start cranking, Teal.”
It was awkward and difficult. The crank didn’t want to turn and I almost dropped the alternator, but once it got going it was easier to crank. Soon I could feel the wheel inside the metal casing spinning with a hiss.
Grandpa held up the device in his hand and closed his eyes. I could see his lips moving. He opened them again. “No one likes a coward,” he said and pressed the side of the plastic device. A light brightens the face of it and a small bell noise sounded. Grandpa let go of the device and laid it in his lap.
For nearly a second nothing happened. Then we see the inside of the Shrieker House grow brighter before the front windows blow outwards spewing fire and glass. A deep roar soon followed along with a rumble in the ground.
“That’s it,” said Grandpa. “No turning back now.” He pulled thick leather gloves on his hands and hopped down out of the wheelchair. He moved over to a corner of the shop and hands me a heavy cudgel.
“What about you?”
Grandpa shook his head. “I need my hands free. Besides, once I get a hold of ‘em, I won’t need anything else. Come on, follow me.”
As we exited the front of the bridal shop, I hear screams from inside the Shrieker House. Smoke and flames billow up from the top of the house and incredibly the loud music is still playing on the remaining speakers.
A Chit Girl stumbled down the front steps bleeding and on fire. She falls into the front lawn and thrashes. A dazed Shrieker named Talon followed after her dragging a bleeding left leg. I could see our women standing around with their weapons in their hands, uncertain what to do.
Grandpa raced forward on his fists and stumps and I have to run to keep up with him. He slammed right into Talon and dragged the stunned Shrieker to the ground. Once there he held the man in place by locking his arm against his body and uses one of his powerful hands to choke the man.
The Shrieker’s eyes were wide and he looked up at me like he can’t tell what’s going on. Then he begins thrashing and nearly escaped Grandpa’s grasp. Without thinking of what I was doing, I stepped forward and swung my cudgel down on top of the man’s chest with all my strength. His struggles ceased immediately.
The women were now moving forward attacking the dazed Shriekers in groups. More screams of pain and surprise could be heard from the rear of the house. Th
e sounds of the music mixed with that of the fire and screams in a dizzying chaotic mixture so like a dream.
Jonesy was there in front of me. He had Sarah by the hair and is punching her repeatedly in the face. Running forward I swung my heavy club as hard as I could at his lower back. He dropped to the ground and then rolled over to look at me in amazement.
Sarah was gasping and bleeding and I stand over both of them uncertain what to do next.
“Kill him,” Sarah gasped.
“No,” Jonesy held his hands up towards me.
“Do it,” she said. “He’ll kill you if you let him go.”
Jonsey leaned up and started to speak again.
I swung the cudgel from the hip and caught him in the side of the head. I felt a wet dull thump as if I’ve struck a melon. Jonesy fell back to the ground, his head broken open and his jawbone protruding grotesquely through the stretched skin of his cheek. I remembered that he wasn’t that much older than I was and that we had sat together during the Remembering when I was younger.
Before I was aware of it, I was vomiting on the frost covered ground. I heaved for several seconds after my stomach was empty and then sank to my knees.
Sarah, her face already swollen, lifted me up. “Come on, we have to go help.”
I looked around and it appeared to me the women didn’t need any help. They were standing attentively, ready to attack any who emerged from the house. Just as I am starting to believe we were actually going to be able to do it, to win, I heard a horrifying sound.
A gunshot.
The pop was distinctly different from any other and I remembered it well from the time they killed the black bear. The gunshot was followed by another and then another. Soon a cascade of pops echoed from the rear of the Shrieker House.
Through the smoke I could see women running our way from the east. I spotted Jonesy’s mother fleeing the sound before she falls to the ground, blood soaking her shoulder. She tried to rise again, but Skull stepped out of the darkness and shot her in the back of the head with a pistol. He smiled maniacally through his orange face paint.