The Dark Days Series | Book 2 | Sanctuary

by Cole, Christopher

  “Yo, Nate!” Patch called.

  “Yeah?” I replied.

  “I was asking if you guys wanted to see the movie when we head back.”

  “What’s playing?

  “Let me guess, High School Musical 3?” Carrie guessed.

  “Actually, they’re playing a classic – Tarzan,” Jess answered.

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “The good Disney one made in ‘99 with the singer Phil Collins.”

  “Huh, haven’t seen that in a long time,” Ashley said.

  “You guys wanna go see it?” Patch asked.

  “Girls?” I asked Carrie and Molly.

  “If everybody’s going, then no way. I hate crowds,” Carrie stated.

  “Molly?” I asked.

  Molly didn’t answer.

  “Molly?” I repeated, shaking her a little.

  Still no answer.

  “Molly,” I spoke a little louder.

  “Hmm? Wha?” Molly asked.

  “Patch wanted to know if you wanted to see the movie they’re playing,” I said.

  “Nah, too many people talk during the movies,” Molly said, rubbing her eye.

  “How about we head over to the soda bar?” Jess suggested.

  “Yeah, let’s do that after the sun has gone down,” Carrie agreed.

  When the sunset was done making interesting colors, we headed over to the soda bar. It’s usually open only on the weekends, but sometimes they open it on Friday nights. Lucky for us, there weren’t that many people there, most of them were probably at the movie. The soda bar was kinda cool with the souvenir's soldiers had collected outside the fort. There were street signs, cool yard decorations, little statues, gnomes and other cool stuff. The bar stretched out on three sides of the room, the back, and both right and left with four big skylights that showed the night sky with all the stars – it even had those big giant glass beer mugs. We all sat together and ordered our soda, but most of the flavors were fruit – no Coke or Pepsi. There were flavors like strawberry, peach, mango, lemon, grape, watermelon, blueberry, cherry, and a bunch of mixtures of them together – I ordered mine, blueberry watermelon.

  “Have you guys heard anything from back home?” Carrie asked.

  “Not much . . . the protests have died down, but people still hate the Pacific Army,” Patch answered.

  “Yeah, no kidding and that redneck beat-off Campbell is trying to enlist people that aren’t qualified for the military,” Jess added, with a scoff.

  “Figures, one thing you can always count on is that an asshole will stay an asshole,” Carrie stated after taking a sip of her drink.

  After a while of silence and drinking the sodas, Jess broke the silence.

  “Alright, I’ve got something that can break the silence. The game is ‘Honesty’ and the topic is the people we love back home, and I say people instead of parents, because some of us . . . well, you get the idea. Anyway, we have to talk about them and whatever good or favorite memories we have of them. What do you say?” Jess humbly asked.

  “That could be interesting, we could get to know some things,” Patch said before taking a long sip.

  “Okay yeah, I’m in,” Sarah added.

  “Alright, who wants to start?” Jess asked.

  “My brother and I’ll take the first swing,” Scarlet said, pointing to her brother.

  “Some of you thought my sister and I come from Mexico, or Panama, or Puerto Rico, but we’re not from any of those places. We come from much farther south, Argentina,” Shaun added.

  Our eyes widened by that statement.

  “Argentina?! You guys are from . . . Argentina?” Carrie asked, surprised.

  “All the way from the Horn?” Ashley asked.

  “Yes, we are,” Scarlet answered.

  “At least that’s where we were born and raised for the first six years of our life before coming to the United States,” Shaun added.

  “What brought you and your family way out here?” I asked.

  The twins looked at me with a smile.

  “Thank you,” Scarlet said.

  “For what?” I asked, confused.

  “You said ‘out here,’ not ‘up here.’ ‘Up here’ tends to sound like you may be looking down on South American countries like ours,” Shaun answered.

  “Well, up and down is just geographical, not social or political commentary,” I said.

  “Yeah . . . anyway, back to the story. Our father and our uncles were farmers and worked growing crops – it was the family business, big business. They were landowners just like our grandfather, but since our dad was the oldest, the land was in his name and he was the para el jefe – or boss man. Our mother was an agent for an international marketing firm,” Scarlet explained.

  “Wow,” Jess said, impressed.

  “Oh, so were they? Were you guys rich?” Carrie asked.

  “Sort of, I guess. We had money, but we weren’t millionaires. Anyway, things were fine for a while, but then . . . our Uncle, dad’s youngest brother, got mixed up in some shady deals and he owed money to some very bad people – The Rojas Cartel,” Shaun said.

  My eyes widened and I put down the jug, “Wait, did you say Rojas Cartel? The Rojas Cartel?! International drug runners, black market arms dealers, blow up police stations and ships in the Panama Canal, kidnap entire families and butcher them, the ‘Butchers of Juarez.’ The ‘Blood Demons.’ That Rojas Cartel?”

  “Oh, so you’ve heard of them?” Scarlet joked.

  “People that live in remote villages in Tibet without internet have heard of them. Those guys are monsters,” I stated, clearly.

  “Understatement of the year. Even the Los Zetas, Gulf Cartel and the Sinaloa Cartel think twice before messing with them,” Shaun said.

  My friends looked confused.

  “Uh guys? Let’s pretend that the rest of us haven’t watched BBC news or read The New York Times. Can you guys tell us who these guys are and why they’re so bad?” Patch asked.

  “Yeah, what’s a cartel?” Jess asked.

  Sarah cleared her throat, “Okay, so you know that crime happens all the time, right? Well, some criminals get together and get very organized – like before the Outbreak, there was the Italian Mafia, the Japanese Yakuza, the Chinese Triad, and Central or South American Cartels. These were large, sophisticated organized crime syndicates in Central and South America called cartels, and most of them did their business by making, selling, and trafficking illegal drugs, prostitution, kidnapping, blackmail, or protection rackets – and some were very good at it, but all of them made it clear for everyone to not fuck with them.”

  “You mess with them, they kill you and your entire family . . . including your kids, they just don’t care. The worst part is sometimes they shoot you and make it quick, but oftentimes they take their time to make you die slow . . . like real slow in creative and sadistic ways,” Molly said.

  “Jesus,” Patch said.

  “Yeah, so our parents didn’t want to take any chances whatsoever. They got us out of Argentina and moved us to Reno, Nevada. That’s where we met this knucklehead for the first time,” Scarlet said ruffling Warren’s hair.

  “And of course, this lovely young lady,” Shaun said, giving a head bow in Sarah’s direction.

  The twins’ smiles slowly faded away.

  Scarlet stated clearly, “Our parents left home for us. Our father gave up his birthright, our future on that land, our ancestral homeland . . . for our protection. What they had to do for work once they got here was rough to say the least.”

  “What did they do?” Ashley asked, after sipping her drink.

  “Our dad worked as a welder in a hot metal warehouse, nine-hour shifts, five days a week, and our mom worked at a Toyota dealership as a clerical assistant. We were living sort of the high life, or at least our parents were, and they gave all that up for us without complaining, regret, or even asking for any thanks. That’s why my sister and I always try to do what we can to help a
nd to let them know how much they mean to us, because they have sacrificed so much so we can have a future, that’s really something that we can’t take for granted,” Shaun explained.

  “Wow, that’s a helluva story,” Warren said amazed.

  “Yeah, so now you know. Who’s next?” Scarlet smiled.

  Patch spoke up, “We’ll start, Jess, Molly, and I. We don’t have parents and I’ll spare you guys my sob story of abandonment, orphanage doorstep, basket, and no note – but the silver lining is that Will and Kayley have always been there for us, we’re living with them and they’re our parents as far as I’m concerned.”

  “What did they do?” Shaun asked.

  “They worked at the orphanage helping out and whatnot. Of course, they had a couple of side jobs here and there, but they looked after us.”

  “There were good times and there were bad times, but Will and Kayley always tried to find ways to make it okay for us. They cared for us when we had no one else. I remember once, we went to a History museum and then we were supposed to go to this boring reenactment, but instead, Will and Kayley took us to an amusement park instead, how great is that?” Jess added.

  “Really?” Carrie asked.

  “Yeah, they took us there right after we told them that we had never been to one. It was the first time that I’ve ever been on a roller coaster or eaten cotton candy. That was the most fun we’ve ever had before the outbreak. They also always knew how to talk to us, how to let us know that even though they don’t know what it’s like to be an orphan, they understood what we were feeling – when we were sad or angry or lonely or . . . feeling like no one wanted us. They knew what to say to us and made us feel loved – which when you’re abandoned is one of the greatest feelings in the world. I didn’t know how important that was until I met Will, Kayley, and Father Lawrence . . . along with these two chuckleheads,” Molly stated, nudging Patch and Jess.

  “Love is weird . . . it’s wonderful, it’s hard, it’s empowering, it’s hurtful, it’s simple, it’s complicated, and beautiful and ugly all at the same time. You can write a whole book about love and still not know jack shit about it – yet somehow that makes perfect sense,” Warren said before sipping.

  After a short pause while that sunk in, Scarlet asked, “Alright, who’s next to tell a story?”

  Warren raised his hand, “I got one . . . or in a sense it’s a couple. I’ve always been the type of guy where one is better than zero. If you have at least one victory, you’re never a loser. If you have one friend, you’re not a failure. My dad was good at every game I’ve ever played with him. There were times where I would be better, but that didn’t happen often. When I was little, we went to this beach house and it had a foosball table. I hated losing so much back then, I couldn't stand it – so after losing each game, I’d insist he play again, and again, and again . . . and again . . . and again . . . until we’d played like 15 games.”

  Warren started chuckling which got our attention.

  “My dad was lying on the couch laughing so hard because I was half-crazy shaking him and demanding a rematch! I . . . (chuckle), I had this crazy look in my eyes and I . . . (chuckle), I was literally shaking my dad shouting, ‘No! I demand a rematch! Again!’ I would get him to play again and again until I finally beat him – and then I was done,” Warren smiled.

  Some of us were laughing and smiling.

  “I didn’t care that the score was fifteen to one. That’ll always be my motto in life, if you have at least one of something, that’s better than zero,” Warren said.

  Scarlet was staring at Warren with a smile and a look that said he was a total dork. Then she started laughing and couldn’t stop.

  “What are you laughing at?” Warren asked.

  “You obviously, I can’t believe what a dinosaur-sized doofus you are!” Scarlet said, giving Warren a nuggie.

  Sarah went next.

  “Alright, I got one. When I was little, we used to have this dog named Boxer. He died about a year and a half before the outbreak happened, he was a good dog. Anyway, one-night Boxer was barking his head off so my parents woke up to see what the hell he was going on about. By the sounds of Boxer barking, and the noises he was making, we thought that a burglar was trying to break in or someone was attacking Boxer, so we were panicking – I remember jumping out of bed and landing on my face in my bedroom. However, in my parents room they were having a fun night – if you catch my meaning – so, they were rushing to get dressed in the dark and my dad ended putting on my mom’s underwear and he was still half out of it as he went running out, so he didn’t know what he was wearing,” Sarah explained.

  “Oh boy,” Patch said, before sipping his drink.

  “When we got to the door and turned on the lights, it turns out Boxer was fighting with a raccoon. So, Dad got a broom and helped scare away the raccoon but this stubborn little shit just wouldn’t leave. It kept trying to bite or claw at either my dad or Boxer. So, you have to imagine what this looked like for our neighbors – they hear a lot of racket, come outside at 1 am well-armed to see a full-grown, hairy man in his backyard fighting a raccoon with his dog while wearing his wife’s red panties,” Sarah said.

  We laughed. Warren and Shaun were drinking when she said that, so they ended up spitting out the soda as they laughed.

  “Yeah . . . my dad didn’t even notice until after the raccoon ran off and he saw that everyone was staring at him. My mom sometimes asks him if he wants to wear her panties again which makes him put on that big frown on his face. My parents are frigging hilarious sometimes. You should hear their sassy conversations,” Sarah said before drinking her soda.

  They chatted for a while and I sat quietly thinking about my parents. As much as I hoped that they were okay and safe, a part of me knew that they must be going through some rough times. For starters, there’s no way they’d still be at Fort Drum – they must have moved farther south, but how far south. I couldn’t guess – where would they go? I also didn’t know whether they tried to make it to Colorado and Fort Denver to look for us. I realized that Ashley, Carrie, and myself may have been the only ones from Fort Drum that survived, or at least that are known to have survived. They would probably assume we were dead as well, since everyone else is either dead or scattered to the four winds without a sign. All those people . . . all those kids, they died horribly . . . for nothing. For nothing. I was feeling so many incandescent different things at that point . . . dread, anger . . . regret. I never even got to tell Ian and Andy that I was sorry . . . and their mother Rebecca will never see them ever again. She came all that way, protecting her sons, to find her husband, Wallace, only to find that he was killed, and then she loses her children as well. She lost her entire family now. Why do we live in a world where horrible things happen to so many good people? What did they do to deserve all this? What a broken world we live in.

  “Nate!” Carrie said in my ear.

  “Ah!” I responded, startled.

  I looked at her and saw that everyone was staring at me.

  “Huh? Whaddaya say?” I asked.

  “Well, Molly was asking you to tell a story, but you weren’t here. So, I’m telling you to come back to Earth buddy,” Carrie said.

  “Yeah, so tell us a story. Pllllleeeeaaaaaaassssseeee,” Molly purred.

  I smiled and pushed away the recently visited dreadful thoughts to recall something good. I remembered something good that had happened when I was very little. It was one of my most precious memories of my parents.

  “Alright, I got a story about my parents . . . my biological parents. Back before the outbreak, I lived in New York. One Christmas we went to the mountains in the High Peaks Wilderness. I was probably five years old at the time. It was Christmas morning before the sun was up and I was half asleep when my parents got me out of bed and into my winter clothes and I wasn’t really awake until we were out in the woods. I remember being carried by my dad and hearing his big boots crunching through the icy snow and seeing my bre
ath in the cold air,” I said.

  My friends listened as I told the story while drinking their sodas.

  “When my dad saw that I was awake he said, ‘We didn’t want to wake you up, but we really wanted to show you something.’ So, I didn’t really say anything as we walked up the mountain. My mom set up a tarp for us to sit on and I’m sitting there wondering ‘what the heck are we doing out here in the cold?’ They told me to ‘wait for it,’ and I asked what we’re waiting for and they tell me that I’ll see soon. So, I’m sitting there waiting, waiting, and waiting. Then, I finally saw what they wanted me to see,” I said.

  Everyone showed slightly curious expressions.

  “The sky and the clouds started to change color before the sun finally appeared and let me tell you . . . it was the most beautiful sunrise I ever saw in my life. The sunlight was warm even as it was coming up, and everything was changing color – the clouds, the mountains, the snow, the trees, everything was turning orangish-yellow. It’s like heaven opened up to shed some of its light down on us to see. That’s when my parents told me Merry Christmas. They taught me how to appreciate a different kind of Christmas, how to stop and smell the roses, how to just take in the natural beauty around us. I’m grateful for that, I cherish that morning, because it felt like magic, surreal and connected – something I never want to take for granted,” I explained.

  My friends smiled. Ashley and Carrie looked proud along with Molly.

  “I like that story,” Molly said.

  “Me, too,” I said.

  Then all of the sudden, the emergency alarm went off. We were caught off guard, but then we remembered that we have to assemble outside.

  We rushed outside, Patch actually ran back to finish his drink – Warren and I ran back to pull him out with us. We all ran out and stood at attention lined up waiting for the officers and drill instructors to tell us what the hell was going on. Captain Noir had managed to work his way into being XO at Camp Sledgehammer to keep an eye on us, while Corporal Wade was keeping tabs on River and her brothers at Camp Terminator. The Camp commander Captain Henry Chester Alvin, a red-headed bear of a man who was probably born punching his way into the world. He wasn’t as big or as strong as Grim, but he was one tough customer and threatening in his own way. He had short red curly hair and the only part of his unshaven face that lacked orange-fire hair was his chin – his beard connected with his big mustache. Captain Noir was to the right as Captain Alvin stood in the middle of the other officers and Drill Instructors (DI’s). Captain Noir had grown a full beard, but kept it neatly trimmed.