by T. W. Brown
“She would rather risk being eaten alive…and eventually die alone someplace than be your mother,” Dominique was still talking. However, I now think I realized what she was trying to do. She had already beaten me physically, and now she wanted to do the same mentally.
“Are you making a point, or do you just like hearing yourself talk?” That was out of my mouth so quickly that I didn’t have time to clamp my teeth together and prevent it.
“I am going to enjoy watching you become one of my soldiers,” she hissed, leaning across the table so that her nose was almost touching mine.
“Why would I become anything for you?” It seemed like a fair question.
“Because I have your mother…or the person you call your mother.”
Dominique got up and knocked on the door. It opened and Bruno came in with Mama Lindsay. She was cuffed, shackled, and gagged. Her eyes grew wide when she saw me and tears came instantly…for both of us.
“Your mother will remain my guest and work as my personal assistant,” Dominique said. “She will be responsible for my safety because as my life goes…so does yours. As for you, you will be enlisted into my New American Army. You will be a soldier. If you die in battle, then I will release your mother as she will no longer serve a purpose. However, if you come up missing, then I will give her to a hundred men a night for a month before tossing her into a pit of zombies that will put an end to her miserable existence.”
That was the end of the interview…and the reunion. Dominique left with Mama Lindsay and Bruno brought me down to a large open room that had been converted into a dorm. I saw lots of other people, most my age or a little older. They all had the same defeated look on their faces. While I doubted that all of them had been told their parent or loved one was going to be the new personal assistant to the psycho president, I imagine that most were being leveraged into “enlisting” into this New American Army.
Bruno showed me my cot and then left. I guess there was no longer any need to watch me. If I did anything, then Mama Lindsay would be killed. That was the only reason that I needed to do as I was told.
“Hey?” a voice said from behind me. I could already tell how this was going to go without even turning around. Have you noticed that you can usually identify a bully just by the tone in their voice?
“Just leave me alone.” Deep down, I knew that wasn’t going to be good enough for this person, but at least I was giving them a warning.
“Whoa-ho…the new meat has an attitude.”
I turned to see a girl that looked like she not only did not ever miss a meal…but those belonging to the people sitting on either side of her as well. Her eyes were dark little orbs that looked almost black as they glared out from the fleshy folds that squeezed them. Her nose was flat and broad. I only wondered for a second if maybe she had been pounded on by Dominique as well.
“Listen, whoever you are, I just want to be left alone. I am sure that there are plenty of people in this room that you would be able to pick on and beat up with almost no resistance at all.” I felt a little tug inside for just offering up others to this person, but I was tired, my face hurt, and I really did want to be left alone.
“Everybody else in this room already knows who is running things…and since I know all of their faces, that makes you a stranger. You aren’t from Warehouse—”
“No, I’m from Sunset,” I snapped. “Big deal, what’s it to ya?”
I guess I really had no idea what to expect. I was an outsider. Also, I am not all that big. For a bully, that makes me a primary target. That is why I was stunned when her expression changed. She went from scowling menace to stunned. Then…she took my hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I hear they didn’t leave any survivors when they hit you guys. But why would you come here and give up? Why didn’t you just run?”
“Because they took my mom and my friends,” I said.
“And that is what they are using on you,” the girl said this as a statement of fact.
That made me wonder what they were holding over her head. I looked around the room and realized that very few people were actually paying us any attention. Usually, when a bully makes a move like this, everybody would be watching. Either with a look of pity and commiseration…or one of relief that finally there was somebody new to take away some of their heat.
“Listen…” she left that open as a bit of a question. She was waiting for me to say my name.
I gave it a moment’s thought. The knowledge of my identity always has a strange effect on people. After all, my dad and mom wrote the two best sellers of a generation. Everybody knows Sam and Meredith…and Snoe.
If I gave this girl my name, then I would most likely be treated different. I already had the whole “outsider” thing going on. Did I really need another reason to stand out and be different? However, the chances of my identity being kept a secret were next to nil. I had little doubt that Dominique would make sure that whoever she put in charge of training would know exactly who I am.
“My name is Snoe Gainey.”
The big gal looked at me, and if it was possible, her eyes squinted together even tighter to the point of being little more than slits. She gave me an up and down look and then she looked around the room as if she wanted to see who might be near enough to listen. Despite seeing that nobody was, she leaned in real close to me.
“You aren’t tellin’ a fib now, are ya?”
“To what purpose?” I asked back, not bothering to whisper. “You think that is something I would want to make up?”
“Then you stick close to me, Snoe.” She stood up straight and put an arm around me as if we were suddenly best friends. “Some of these folks might start acting all crazy if you go makin’ that known. You need a nickname, if everybody calls you by it, then so will the drillers.”
“Drillers?”
“The folks that they got putting us through the paces.”
“About that,” I said cautiously, “what sort of stuff can I expect?”
“Most of it is close-in techniques for dealing with the biters. However, they also spend a lot of time teaching us how to detain and restrain…least, that’s what we call it. They call it crowd control. Ask me, I think they plan on hitting the tribes and tryin’ to bring those folks under their thumb.”
I let that sink in and then asked my next question. “So, before you give me a nickname, maybe you should tell me yours so I can call you something besides ‘Hey You’.”
The gal turned a shade of pink which really surprised me. This is not the sort of girl you imagine would blush.
“Name is Betty, but everybody calls me Ugg.”
I realized that I would probably regret it, but I had to ask. “Ugg?”
“On account of me being so damn ugly,” she said as if it were a normal and natural thing to blurt out. I started to say something, but she cut me off. “We got plenty of mirrors here at Warehouse, so don’t try to give me some line of garbage.”
I shut my mouth and thought about what I would say. When it came to me, I smiled. “Well I am calling you Betty.”
The big girl looked at me like I was growing an extra arm. I just stared back. When she smiled, it sure did her no favors. She lacked the front bottom teeth and it squeezes her eyes into the folds of flesh that surround them. Also, it did not look like her face was accustomed to such expressions and there was a war going on with the muscles that were responsible for her frowns, grimaces, and scowls and those that helped her smile.
“And I am gonna call you Princess,” Betty said with a braying laugh that was as unnatural as her smile, but certainly did not lack enthusiasm.
“I rather wish you wouldn’t,” I said once I felt that she had calmed down enough to actually hear me speak.
“All the more reason,” she said, her face returning to that sterner countenance that I imagine she felt more at ease with.
Grabbing my arm, she hauled me around the dorm and introduced me to everybody.
I could tell as we approached that everybody, even the boys, had either fear or a healthy respect for Betty. By the time we had made the circuit, I had a bruise about the size and shape of her hand on my upper arm.
When introductions were over—I could not recall one person’s name that I had met and have the associated face pop up in my mind—Betty stopped beside my bunk.
“Now listen careful, Princess,” she said in a rough whisper, “you keep your name to yourself. And if anybody asks, you ain’t from Sunset, you from one of the tribes, don’t matter which one. Make up a name you can remember and stick to that story.”
I wanted to ask why, but at that moment, the double doors on the landing above the dorm area opened and s whole bunch of soldiers in all black with helmets and shields and stuff strapped to their arms and legs barged in.
“Everybody on your feet, assemble in two lines at the base of the stairs!” a male voice barked.
Everybody started to scramble. Betty grabbed my arm, causing me to wince as the bruise seemed to act as a magnet for her hand. She looked to be counting and then jammed me between a guy and girl who said nothing at all and simply made room. Then she got in the line across from me.
“What fresh hell is this?” I muttered.
Nobody answered or chuckled.
***
We marched up the stairs and outside. I desperately wanted to look around, but I noticed that everybody—including Betty—stared straight ahead. I locked my eyes on the back of the head of the boy in front of me and followed.
We came to a halt in front of a long building that had huge roll-up doors all down the side. Every one of them was up revealing a vast structure that had large cages that were probably about twenty feet by twenty spaced all the way down the center of the building. Once inside I was able to count nine such structures.
“Count off in nines!” a woman ordered.
I listened as the numbers were ticked off from one to five and then starting over, by the time it got to me, I shouted out, “Three!” just as Betty did the same.
One of the soldiers yelled for us to go to one of the arena-like cages based on our number. Since Betty and I were both threes, I just fell in behind her. I noticed that she was never first or last. That was something I filed away in case I was ever without her. Funny, but in just this short time, I already feel like I can trust her and consider her a friend.
Once we were all at the appropriate cage, we were each told to line up side by side. Each group had two soldiers in charge. They really liked to yell. It wasn’t anything like EEF training. There, if you got yelled at, you were doing something wrong. Here, these people seemed to only have one volume level. Well, I hope they all had sore throats at night when they got home…or wherever they went for the evening.
“First two, step forward,” the taller of the soldiers in charge of us—and a female—ordered. (Yes, she was yelling, but you already got that part. I figure you can just assume that if I say that a soldier is talking…they are yelling.)
The first two in line did as they were told. I watched as they were given a variety of things to strap on their arms, legs, chest, and head. Then they were handed a big stick that I guess was supposed to look like a sword and the last thing was a shield.
“One-on-one combat training,” Betty whispered out of the side of her mouth.
I was curious as to why we needed to learn how to fight each other. People don’t fight the same way zombies do, and if these people thought that the tribesmen and women were going to meet them out in the open, they had obviously never dealt with those folks before.
I watched as three pairs went in and beat each other with their sticks. One of the fights was over in a hurry. The guy refused to hit the girl he had been paired up against. I tried to get a look at his face but didn’t get the chance. Once he refused for the third time, the soldiers blew a whistle and these really big guys came over. To make a long story short, he was told once more to fight. He said no. They beat him until he was just a lump on the ground and then dragged him away.
Next up was me and Betty. Just before they called us, she whispered to me.
“Make it look good. I’ll go easy on you, when I strike on your helmet, just fall down.”
I put on all the gear while the soldier gave me what I assume she must have thought was good advice on how to fight in the ring. I just nodded and ignored her.
When I stepped into the cage, Betty flashed me a wink and then it was like a switch was thrown and she was all snarls. I actually jumped back when she rushed me and almost fell.
As she came like a raging bull, I remembered something that Mama Lindsay had shown me. I let her come and then, just before she reached me and her momentum had her committed, I stepped aside and grasped her outstretched arm by the wrist. Using her energy, I turned slightly and threw her over my hip. She landed with a heavy thud. I guess nobody had ever taught her how to fall.
My mistake was in thinking that she had the wind knocked out of her. I guess she was just surprised. When I bent down to offer my hand, she took my legs out.
“Nobody called the fight yet, newbie!” the female soldier laughed.
I rolled out of the way just as Betty brought the wooden sword down where my ribs would have been. It made a loud crack which made me flash a questioning look at Betty. Hmm…she still had the really angry face. I tried to wink, but she just snarled and came at me again.
I ducked and heard the wooden sword whistle above my head. From this position, I only had one option. I brought the butt end of the weapon around and thrust it up into Betty’s ample—but amazingly firm—stomach. She made a little ‘oof’ noise. Then she brought her own weapon down on my back.
I felt pain radiate from my kidneys as I crumpled to the ground. A second blow came to the side of my head and everything went fuzzy. The loud ringing in my head kept me from hearing anything else, but when a third blow didn’t come, I had to assume that the order to stop had been given.
I felt hands grab my shoulders and roll me over. It took a few seconds to adjust, but eventually I saw the face of the female soldier hovering over mine. She was trying to convey something, but the ringing in my ears had not subsided enough.
“…your feet or are you going to just lie there in your own puddle?”
Hey, I could finally hear. However, it was also around the same time that my other senses were returning. I had wet my pants. I felt my face flush. Of course I could also now hear the titters of laughter from the others.
I rolled away and started to stand. It was easier said than done, but I slapped away two attempts from an unknown set of hands that tried to help me to my feet. I staggered and did my best to stand up straight, but the pain in my kidneys was really making that a chore. When my vision still didn’t clear, I realized that the tears in my eyes probably had something to do with that and I scrubbed at my eyes with my fists as I stepped out of the cage.
The laughter had stopped, and now everybody was looking anyplace but at me. I fell back in line and just wanted this to be over. Three more pairs went after, but I had stopped caring. That was probably why I didn’t hear Betty when she tried to get my attention. When she nudged me with her elbow, I turned my head very slowly and deliberately. To think that just moments ago I was ready to trust this person!
“Damn, girl,” she winked. “Thought you was just gonna fall over for me. Then you had to go and damn near break my arm.”
I must have wrenched it a bit when I threw her. I have to admit, I was a little rusty. Still, she just about ruptured my kidneys. I wasn’t exactly feeling like apologizing for making it tough for her to kick my butt.
“You like talkin’ trash, Ugg?” One of the soldiers appeared out of nowhere.
“No, sir,” Betty turned forward and snapped to attention.
“Good thing, because it looked to me like you picked the newbie here because she is so small and you thought you would have an easy go today. You like picking on the pretty little ones, Ugg?”
“Sir, no, sir!”
“I think that the next time you two step into the ring, that little newbie might just ring you up. And when your undefeated streak falls, you remember the deal…right?”
I saw Betty’s face turn just a little pale from the flushed red that had come with all of this attention. She did not flinch outwardly, but her posture changed, that was for sure.
“Sir…yes, sir,” Betty responded. Only, I think the soldier mistook the quiet tone of voice for submission. What I heard was nothing short of hatred…with something else that was surprising coming from Betty even though I barely just met her and could not claim to actually knowing her all that good.
Fear.
***
I stepped out of the shower. It was actually kind of nice to feel hot water on my skin again. It had certainly been a while. The soap made my skin itchy, but it was a small price to pay to feel clean. It is hard to believe, but being out in the field, you tend to forget about those sorts of things. Staying alive really occupies most of your thoughts. And if you are out there alone…well, there is nobody around to make a face when you sit next to them all gross and stinky.
However, that peace and tranquility brought on by the hot shower vanished in an instant. The bathroom was empty. Not one person was at a trough or finishing up from their own shower. I knew I wasn’t alone when I started because it caught me by surprise that the boys and girls all used the same common bathroom and shower area.
I wrapped my towel around my body and stepped back to the stall I just vacated. If I was about to be jumped, I would not have my back exposed.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Betty stepped out of the shadows. “They teach that over at Sunset?”
“My mom taught me.”
“Lindsay or Janie?”