by T A Williams
Trevor wrinkled his forehead.
“Threaten me all you want. I don’t care.”
“We don’t threaten,” Alec said slowly. “I’m giving you options and letting you know what happens if you choose the wrong one.”
The man was quiet for a moment. “And what if I do say something?”
“Then you get out of the cold and don’t end up being torn apart by wild animals.”
“Dammit,” the man said as he began to shiver. “I’m from Sturgeon. I’m just looking around; I’m not a threat.”
“Looking around for what?” Trevor asked.
“Scouting,” Alec answered. “We know you all have been stealing livestock from Centralia. Do you know how hard it has been to stop Whitford from sending in the militia to take you all down?”
“Bring them,” the man said through chattering teeth. “We’re ready for you. We aren’t weak; how do you think we’ve survived this long?”
“We’ve survived even longer,” Alec said. “And with far less assistance. What do you think we are capable of?”
The man dropped his head and began to rock back and forth. Trevor walked up to Alec.
“What do we do?” he whispered.
“I say we take him to Centralia and lock him up until we can figure something out.”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with what Whitford will want to do to him,” Trevor said.
“We can reason with Whitford. I don’t want to take him to New Hope. Even if we had a place for him, I don’t want him getting a single look at our setup.”
Trevor nodded and turned to one of the guards. “Load him up on my horse. We’re taking him to Whitford.”
The ride to Centralia was tense. The cold air bit at any exposed skin and Alec’s mind was filled with worry. Deep down Whitford was a good man but he had a temper and he had already had his fill of the chaos that Sturgeon was causing. Still, Alec felt more comfortable turning the man over to Whitford than bringing him into their home.
Whitford’s face was a calm mask when they arrived and told him the story. He had his men throw the prisoner into one of their holding areas before saying a single word to them.
“They’ll come looking for him soon,” Whitford said.
“And that’ll give us a chance to talk with Dante and reason with him,” Trevor said. “We can’t stay at each other’s throats any longer.”
“We’ll see,” Whitford said before taking them inside.
Dante and his men showed up two days later. Ten of them stopped at the edge of town on their horses, their weapons out in the open. Whitford had been ready and had the militia stationed all around the area. They had them surrounded but Whitford had promised attack was a last option. Alec and Trevor came out with Whitford on horseback. Dante and his men watched as they approached but their guns stayed at their sides.
“Something I can help you with?” Whitford asked.
“You have one of my men.”
“We caught him on our land,” Alec said.
Dante looked at him and turned to Whitford. “We need him back.”
“We’re getting tired of your people stealing our livestock,” Whitford said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We can set up trades,” Alec said quickly before Whitford could answer. “We don’t have to be in conflict.”
Whitford tensed up. They had agreed this was an option they would offer beforehand, but Whitford was still strongly against it.
“And why would we want to trade?”
“Because you all aren’t going to continue stealing from us,” Whitford said through gritted teeth. “Not without consequences.”
Dante smiled. “I’m not worried. Since we’re not the ones stealing from you, of course.”
Whitford balled up his fist so Alec spurred his horse forward a few steps.
“Do what is best for all your people,” Alec said.
“I am,” Dante said. “Now release my man.”
Alec turned and whistled and Margie came out of one of the nearby buildings with the tied-up man in tow. She brought him over to Alec’s side and stopped.
“Understand this,” Whitford said. “You don’t want there to be a next time.”
Margie let the man go and he ran over to Dante.
Dante watched him run over and then turned back to them. “We can end this…misunderstanding if you all agree to provide us with some support.”
“What?” Trevor asked.
“We could use some livestock and some food to get us through the winter. Provide that and you won’t have a need to think we are the ones stealing things from you.”
“Let me get this straight. You want us to give you supplies in order for you all to stop stealing from us?” Whitford pulled his rifle at the ready, causing Dante’s men to do the same.
Dante didn’t move. “I’m just trying to clear up this misunderstanding.”
“Leave,” Alec said. “Take your man and don’t come back. You know what will happen if you do.”
Dante reached down and helped pull the man onto the back of his horse. “Let me know if you change your mind.” And with that he turned his horse around and his men followed him.
Whitford turned to Alec and Trevor, rage clear on his face. “We should take them down now. My men can get them to surrender and we can take them prisoner.”
“And then what?” Trevor asked. “When more of their people come looking for them, what do we do?”
“We tell them they are our prisoners and turn them back. We can defend ourselves if they try something stupid.”
“And what if they are the ones that provided for the others? We just let them starve alone in their town?” Trevor asked. “I won’t ok that just so I can feel safer at night.”
Whitford turned to Alec. “I won’t let them continue to steal from us.”
“And we won’t,” Alec said, trying to sound calm. “If they try then we will deal with them, but I’m with Trevor. I don’t feel comfortable getting into a fight in order to prevent one in the future.”
Whitford shook his head and took in a deep breath and then walked away.
Ben
Ben rode in the back of the van with his unit and their lone captive. The Prophet was unconscious in the corner, his hands tied behind his back and his long white hair covering his face. Some of the men had grumbled when Banner bandaged the man’s wound but nothing was said aloud. Crimson, Ty, Chavez and Dex sat around Ben, happy but weary. Each of them was bruised and battered. Crimson had a large gash on the side of her head, while Ty’s right eye was swollen shut. Despite all that they were all smiles.
“The hell took you so long?” Crimson asked, rubbing her hands where the rope used to be.
“They still had a McDonald’s open so I swung by there and got a couple of Big Macs,” Ben said with a smirk.
“Thanks for picking us up some,” Dex said. The right lens of his glasses was cracked and the frame on the left side was bent.
Ty scooted over to him and patted him on the back. “It’s good to see you again,” he said weakly.
“Did they do this?” Ben asked, gesturing toward their bumps and bruises.
“The crash,” Chavez said. His left arm was in a makeshift sling. “How did you get out?”
“I was smart enough to get thrown from the trailer. I thought I told you all to follow me?” Ben’s back ached for a brief moment, reminding him that he hadn’t escaped unscathed.
“I take it these are the good guys?” Crimson asked.
“They are. It’s a long story but I’m sure we have a long trip ahead of us,” Ben said.
The van continued down the road for a better part of an hour before it pulled over on the side of the road. The van door opened and the darkness of the night greeted them. Banner stepped out in front of them.
“No time to talk. We need to get you all on one of the ATVs and move. They are still looking for us.”
As everyone began
to unload, Ben went to the Prophet and brushed the hair out of the man’s face. The Prophet’s red eyes were open and he was staring directly at him.
“You cannot escape the wrath of God,” the man said.
“And you can’t escape mine,” Ben said as he brought down his fist into the man’s face. The Prophet crumpled.
“Was he awake?” Banner asked.
“Not anymore. Watch him though; he could be faking.”
The clouds partially covered the moon, leaving most of everything in darkness. The dozen or so ATVs had doubled as they had met up with the rest of their group. Everyone climbed onto the back of an ATV and they strapped the Prophet onto the back of one of the larger ones.
“We’re headed to our main base. We should be there in under an hour,” Banner said and then the night was filled with the sounds of the ATVs.
They drove through empty cities and down deserted roads with the cool night as their constant companion. Ben’s head was clear of thoughts. His unit was back together and they were safe; the only other thing that mattered was getting back home. They drove through another deserted town and then up a road leading to a walled-off enclosure. As they approached the gates opened and they found themselves going down a residential road with million dollar houses on all sides. The ten-foot-high walls had been set up to keep out prying eyes, and probably to make the inhabitants feel superior, but they now served to protect the remnants of Fort Stevens. The ATVs stopped within the walls and within seconds dozens of people came out of the nearby houses.
Banner jumped off his ATV. “We have a few injured; take them to the infirmary. And we have a very high value prisoner.”
A woman in scrubs approached Ben and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m good,” Ben said and the woman moved on to the next person.
There was an audible gasp as the Prophet was pulled from the back of an ATV. The pale man was awake and looked around at everyone with a smile on his face.
“You all are not long for this world. God’s soldiers are coming and with them come his wrath.”
“Lock him up,” Banner yelled.
“We know this place,” the Prophet said as they began to drag him away.
“Wait,” Banner yelled and the men stopped. “What do you mean you know this place?”
“Do you think your sins can be hidden from the Lord? Did you truly believe that we do not know where you live?” The Prophet smiled, his right eye blackened from Ben’s punch. “You were not a threat so we didn’t feel the need to remove you, but now,” the Prophet let out a fake laugh, “things have changed.”
“Get him out of here,” Banner said softly. For a moment he didn’t say anything.
“He telling the truth?” Ben asked.
Banner’s face was blank but his skin looked like it was pulled tight. “They have scared thousands of people into doing whatever he wants. It’s possible that there are those that have seen our comings and goings and reported it to them. We need to make preparations just in case.”
“You get me to the town we were captured in and I can contact Command. I’ll make sure President Johnson opens up the skies for these psychos.”
Banner’s face dropped and Thomas had been walking by but stopped.
“Johnson? Who the hell is President Johnson?” Thomas asked.
Banner held up a hand to silence Thomas. “Is that who sent you here?”
Crimson walked up beside Ben. “Is there a problem?”
“Do you follow the orders of President Johnson?” Banner asked, his voice louder than it was before.
“Of course,” Ben said, looking from Banner to Thomas. “He is the President of the United States.”
“He is a pretender,” Banner said, clenching his jaw.
“Who do you follow?” Crimson asked slowly.
“Per the order of Presidential Succession we follow the Secretary of Health and Human Services, Sylvia Carter,” Thomas said. “Until and unless a surviving member that is above her is found alive.”
“Before the Chinese captured Fort Stevens we received a message from President Johnson and General Wallace. He tried to say he was the last living member. There was a response from President Sylvia Carter assuring him that she was alive and well. Johnson then advised that he had control of the military due to General Wallace and until her identity could be verified he was in control,” Banner said.
“And then what?” Ben asked.
“Then we were attacked by the Chinese and driven from Fort Stevens,” Thomas said.
Ben took a step back. It couldn’t be true. If President Johnson knew that Carter was still alive he would have relinquished control. It only made sense; he wanted to make sure she was who she claimed to be. He looked to Crimson and saw the same reservations on her face.
“And you all know that Carter is real because?” she asked.
“We had been taking orders from her since the first year of the invasion. And Thomas met her,” Banner said.
Thomas nodded his head. “Before the war turned in the Chinese’s favor I met her in California. She provided us several shipments of hardware and supplies from their stockpiles to help us on the East Coast.”
Banner and Thomas stood there watching them, waiting to see what they would do.
“We can figure this out later,” Ben said. “We need to get our hands on that radio and call for backup.”
“You call those men in here and they will take every supply we have and every weapon the Forgotten have stolen. I don’t want to strengthen his illegitimate government,” Thomas said.
“If the Forgotten truly know where we are and they send everything they have at us, can we fend them off?” Ben asked Banner.
Banner shook his head. “They’ll cut right through us.”
“We call for backup, take out the Forgotten, then we will clear this up,” Ben said.
Crimson was quiet for a moment, then nodded her head in agreement.
“And if you find out you’re following a fake president?” Thomas asked.
“I signed up to protect my country. If Sylvia Carter is the first in line, then she is my president,” Ben answered.
Crimson stared at him for a moment but said nothing.
Banner took in a deep breath. “We’ll take a small group to the town to grab that radio. Thomas, alert everyone and begin setting up our defenses. War is coming.”
Ben
The villagers did not greet them; the smell of death did.
The rancid smell of decaying bodies hung in the air and caught in the back of Ben’s throat as he walked into the same town that had given him to the Forgotten. Banner, Crimson and a dozen other men walked through the town and were greeted by dead bodies. Most lay sprawled out on the ground with gunshot wounds, while others showed evidence they had been attacked by sharp objects. Ben closed his eyes as he saw evidence of entrails being dragged along the ground. Animals had become attracted to the smell and had begun to feed.
Banner’s face was stoic but his eyes were glazed over. “Search the buildings.”
Crimson stopped next to Ben and her face was as hard as stone. “The Forgotten do this?”
“Who else would?” Ben asked.
“Why?”
Banner approached them. “These is no logic to what they do.”
“You think the Forgotten think they set them up?” Ben asked. “You all hit them after they left this place.”
Some of the color left Banner’s face but he shook his head. “No, the Forgotten take what they want. They have no regard for life. It was only a matter of time before this happened.”
Ben nodded. “We’ll check out the stores on the east side.”
Ben and Crimson walked slowly though the bloodied streets. Birds and dogs scattered as they approached, most of them trying to drag away whatever body part they had been feasting on.
“You buy that?” Crimson asked once they got a distance away from Banner.
“He�
��s not wrong about them, but I think all they were looking for was a reason, and they gave them a reason.”
“Shouldn’t feel bad after what they tried to do to us,” Crimson said.
Ben knew they shouldn’t but he still did. They entered one of the storefronts and through the dust particles floating through the air they saw nothing more than empty shelves.
“You think they’re right about President Johnson and President Carter?” Ben asked.
Crimson kicked over a box but her eyes were not focused on anything in particular. “I fought in the streets of New York for well over a year. I know I got orders from my superiors but hell-if-I-know who they got their orders from.”
“If Carter is still alive and is ahead of Johnson, what happens?”
“Nothing good,” Crimson said quietly.
There was shouting coming from the middle of town so Ben and Crimson ran out. One of the soldiers was handing something over to Banner. Banner didn’t look happy. As Ben and Crimson got closer they recognized the radio. All of the post-EMP radios were thick and contained in a backpack, and this one was the same. The only problem is that it had been torn open and there were wires sticking out from the bag.
“Does it work?” Ben asked.
Banner shook his head no. He took in a deep breath. “We have an engineer back at the base. I’ll have him take a look at it.”
“And if he’s not able to repair it?” Ben asked.
Banner looked around at the dozens of dead bodies that surrounded all of them. He dropped the backpack to his side and his face hardened. “I don’t know.”
Ben
They had converted an unfinished basement in one of the houses into a jail. Five cells lined up alongside the wall but only one of them was used. The pale man known as the Prophet sat with his back against the wall and his hands together as if he was praying. His eyes were closed. Banner was in the cell with the man, standing above him, while Thomas, Ben and Ty sat outside watching.
“How many of you are there?” Banner asked.
“Countless,” the Prophet said. “We are Legion.”
“Don’t make me hurt you.”