by Jason Luthor
“Yeah. The interior wall project a simulation to make it look like it would’ve looked centuries ago. Keeps the grass growing and makes you feel like you’ve gone back in time. You like it?”
“I’ve never . . .” I can see her swallow hard. “I’ve never seen the sun like this. When you’re out in the Deadlands, everything’s always so dark even when the sun manages to creep out from behind the clouds. Half the time, the world’s tinted red. You’re lucky when you get a half clear day.”
“Yeah. It’s completely different here in the Green Zone.”
“You get moments when the sun shines but never for this long. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I grin at her. “You haven’t seen the half of it.”
She looks at me sideways, but I just motion everyone to come up the hill with me. We start to climb up over the grass slopes and come into view of a large plain. Out in front, there’s a big sand diamond that’s been shaped in the grass, and people are standing around in caps and uniforms. At home base, there’s a guy coming up to the plate, waving his baseball bat around and chatting with the umpire when he does. Jackie recognizes it. She used to play it back in the Tower.
I’m watching her, and it’s almost like she loses her breath as she walks up to the low fence separating us from the baseball field. Her chest is rising and falling like she’s having a panic attack, but she keeps herself under control as she grips the chain link fence. She’s looking from player to player, all of them standing around waiting for the pitch. Then, after a second, she heaves out, “They’re wearing my uniform.”
“Yeah. Noticed that too, first time I came around.”
Mandy looks up at her confused. “Your uniform? I guess you’re not talking about your armor.”
Jackie smiles. “No, my uniform’s . . .” She shakes her head. “Just check this out.” She taps at her jumpsuit’s gauntlet, and half a second later a hat’s forming in her hand. She’s got the biggest smile since I’ve seen her back with us as she’s the fitting cap onto her head, pulling her thick kinky hair through the back until she’s got a small afro pushing out of the hat. “My dad and mom actually helped adjust the way the hat fit so that it worked with my hair. It turned out pretty good. At least, I think so.”
Mandy’s eyes read the front of the cap. “NY?”
“Yeah. I never really thought about what the letters mean.”
She nods over at the baseball field. “But everyone’s got those on their uniforms here.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can see that,” she says as she puts a hand to her chest and lets out a long breath. “This is where my uniform came from?”
I cut in. “Think so. Never been there myself but I’m told, across the river, you’ll find the ruins of a stadium. Lots of stuff there with that symbol. Cups, t-shirts, you name it. My guess? A team used to play there once. Big stadium too, so they were definitely pretty popular.”
“I haven’t thought about my uniform in a while.” She still looks like she’s having a hard time breathing. “That memory of my dad giving it to me, when I joined the baseball team . . . That’s one of my favorites.”
“One day, you’ll get back there, Jackie. You’ll be able to tell your dad you finally found where that uniform came from. Maybe one day, you’ll be able to bring him out here too and knock a few balls around the park.”
That makes her smile as she turns to me. “Thanks, Mike. This was . . . this was great.”
“Ready to keep heading in?”
“Yeah. That sounds just peaches.”
We wander for a while after that, just taking things in. It’s nice to see Jackie enjoying the sun with her old baseball cap on. Anyway, thing about the Green Zone’s that it’s around three miles from north to south, so it takes a while to cross. We have plenty of time to enjoy ourselves, but there’s just too much to take in for one day. Still, Jackie tries to. She stands in front of statues for something like ten minutes, just thinking about how big they are before pulling herself away. They’re everywhere. One, of a dog standing on a pile of stones and looking into the distance. A huge bust of a man with crazy hair, staring down from the top of a pillar. And my personal favorite, a massive statue of a man, sitting on a horse, wearing a crown and with two massive swords held over his head.
Still, it isn’t until we get to a lake that Jackie seems to get stuck in place. “It’s a lake,” she says, her eyes literally forced open. “You recycle enough water to keep it filled?”
“Yeah,” I tell her as we look across to the other side, where a line of trees stands on the shore and blocks any more viewing. “The system’s been pretty much perfected by now.”
“I mean, I’ve seen lakes. Not all of them are infested. But I’ve seen this. What exactly are those people doing?” she asks as she points to pairs of people rowing their way through the lake in boats.
“Boating. I know we didn’t really have any movies that showed this kind of stuff off when we lived in the Tower, but yeah. People just went boating with their time off. Guess it’s become something people like to do again.”
“That’s unbelievable. I mean, I knew bigger boats existed but . . . I guess I just didn’t think people would go out there in smaller boats for fun.”
“Yeah. This is why everyone wants a piece of Central Freedom. I don’t know any other place in the Deadlands that can do any of this.”
“I don’t either, and I’ve been around.”
Mandy interrupts as we’re standing there. “Can we take a break? I’m getting pretty tired. I think my feet are about to fall off.”
“Sure thing, Mandy,” I tell her as I look around. “Cynthia, you want to find some drinks and roll back this way after?”
She nods. “Sure. I know Mandy would like some strawberry water.”
Mandy smiles. “Yes, please.”
I look at Jackie. “You two chill here for a second. We’ll be back with something to cool off with.”
“Sure thing,” she tells me as I wander away with Cynthia. We’re probably not a dozen steps away when she squeezes my arm and buries her head into my shoulder.
“It’s going so well!”
“Yeah, it is,” I tell her with a grin. “Once she saw that baseball field, I could tell something in her brightened up. Like she was remembering that human side of her.”
“You could tell it really affected her.”
I reach over and squeeze her hand. “Why’re you so good to me, Ms. Silvera?”
“I’m just using you to stay in Central Freedom and out of the colonies.”
“I knew you were just taking advantage of the perks.”
“Of course. Why else would I stay with you?”
“I don’t know. You tell me?”
“It could have something to do with the way you make me laugh, or because you have such kind eyes.”
“These things? I guess they’re alright.”
She looks up and kisses me on the cheek. “They’re the only ones I want to see when I wake up.”
Jackie’s Recording 06
When Mike walks off, it’s just me and Mandy for a while. Now typically, I’m the last person you want taking care of your kid. I’m just not the caretaker type. I’d probably lose your child if you left things up to me. Not ‘cause I want to, you understand. It’s just I’m not great babysitting. Luckily, Mandy doesn’t need babysitting. She’s sharp. A little too sharp.
“Did you want to cry?” she asks me, point blank, while we’re sitting there watching the lake.
“What did you just ask me?”
“Did you want to cry. At the baseball field. I mean, I’m just wondering. Do you think that’s rude?”
“Probably rude, yeah. Most people don’t go wandering around trying to dig into people’s emotions like that.”
“You don’t have to answer, and I’m sorry if it got you angry.”
“Well, I didn’t say that either.” I can’t help but smile at her. “Yeah, I kind of wanted to cry. Thinking about my mom
and dad does that.”
“You loved them?”
“Of course. And just FYI, they’re not dead. Geez. But yeah, we had some rough patches when I was growing up, but now that I’m older, I get it. When I was younger, sometimes I thought I hated them. Now, I get that they were just trying to look out for me.”
“Adults always say that.”
“Say what?”
“That they’re just trying to look out for you.”
“Well, of course. It’s true.”
“I guess.”
The way she says it bothers me. “Hey, kid. What’s wrong?”
“Don’t call me a kid.”
“You are one.”
“You don’t think I know that?”
Her attitude makes me smile even while I’m rolling my eyes into the back of my skull. “Alright, Mandy. So, you don’t like people looking out for you?”
“I need to be looked out for. I’ve seen what’s out there.”
“In the Deadlands?”
“Yeah. You think I grew up my whole life here in Central?”
“Well, I knew you’d come here with Mike, but I guess I hadn’t thought about it much.”
She looks away and back to the lake. “I know it’s tough out there. Sometimes though, it just feels like people tell you they’re looking out for you so they don’t have to think about what they’re doing.”
“How so?”
“It’s just that if you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s easier for you to just do things without worrying about it too much.”
“So, what you’re saying is that grownups make decisions they don’t think all the way through?”
“Obviously. They get away with it by telling you they’re just trying to protect you.”
That makes me take a deep breath. “That does sound like something I’m familiar with.”
“If you don’t have to answer to anyone, how can you make the right decisions?”
“I guess you can’t. But, nobody can. It’s hard, you know? Especially when you’ve got people you care about. When you get older, you have to make decisions that other people don’t always understand, not even if you try to explain it to them. So, sometimes you just have to make a decision and hope they understand later. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve lost someone.”
Her eyebrows sharpen along her brow. “You don’t think I’ve lost someone? Why do you think my sister’s raising me?”
“Mandy. I didn’t . . .”
“I saw my parents torn apart in front of me. Creepers ripped them limb from limb. Did you know that?”
I stare at her with my mouth hanging open for a second. “No. I’m sorry.”
“My sister and I got caught on the second story ledge of a building while they were on the first floor. I saw them ripped apart by Creepers while they were trying to find a way out for us. They were trying to find some way to save me and my sister.”
“Oh, my God. Mandy, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. You know how I told you Mike doesn’t treat me like a kid?”
“I remember.”
“I know I’m one. Nobody tells me anything. Maybe it’s because you’re right and I won’t really understand all the decisions older people make. It’s still nice for people to at least pretend that they think I’m smart. I don’t need to talk about my parents all the time. They’ve been dead for a while. Still, it’s nice for people to treat me like I’ve actually seen things. It’s annoying when people act like I’ve never been out there in the Creep or seen what can happen. I don’t know anyone else who’s seen their parents killed in front of them the way I did.”
The way she talks . . . She really is way too aware for her age. “Every time we talk, you remind me of me. I used to get irritated by the same stuff. Of course, I always had my parents, even when we weren’t close, so even I’ve never had to see what you did.” I take a deep breath as I play punch her in the shoulder. “Hey, Mandy. I promise I’ll be honest with you. No kid gloves. I mean it.”
“Thanks,” she says as she looks back at me. “Because I really do think you’re cool, Jackie. And not just because you’re . . . you know. Her. The Angel.”
“I’m not that great.”
“No. You’re smart. I like that.”
“What, your sister’s not smart?”
“She’s amazing, but she has to treat me like a kid. I’m her sister. She hates the fact that I had to see what I saw. I think she still blames herself even though it’s been years.”
“I can imagine. It’s hard to get over something like that.”
“That’s why she’s the only one who I’m okay with treating me like that. We both need it. She needs to protect me, and I need her to be my big sister. That’s why she’s the only person who can treat me like a kid.”
“I can definitely respect that.”
She looks past me and smiles. “Hey, Mike. Cynthia.”
A second later, Mike’s plopping onto the grass next to me. “Here,” he says as he extends a glass bottle to me. “Water. Didn’t think you’d want anything fancy.”
“Nah, I’m good with water,” I say with a smile before looking over at Cynthia. “What did you get?”
“Strawberry water,” she says as she sits next to Mandy and hands her a bottle. “Flavored water. Mandy loves the stuff. So do I.”
“Sounds tasty. I’ll have to try it sometime.”
Mandy pops open the top of her bottle and smiles. “Just as long as it’s not mine.”
I smile back at her as I take a drink. For a little while we just sit there, chatting while we relax on the lawn and watch the boats floating along the lake. We don’t talk about Fort Silence or fighting or anything like that. Everything’s about Mandy’s schooling, Cynthia’s doctor stuff, or Mike’s cooking lessons. They even ask me if I want to get a normal job in the city or just take up a hobby. I don’t really know how to answer that, which they get. Still, I’ve got to admit, while we’re sitting there, just talking and relaxing, I feel something that I haven’t felt in a while.
I feel normal.
Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 16
I’m standing next to Jackie, who’s come only in her jumpsuit, as we watch the courtyard lawn in front of Central Primary. At that hour, with night on us, the entire courtyard’s lit up by rows of lights built into the surrounding buildings that shine down on the crowds. On both sides of the lawn, visitors from around the city are seated, watching as a procession of militia members from Fort Silence march up 41st street, music drifting up the streets as they walk through the outer gate and onto the courtyard. There’s got to be a hundred of them, all in dress uniform, their trousers tucked neatly into their boots and their military caps tucked down tightly over their heads. You can hear the brass playing, some of the men and women on trumpets, others on tubas and trombones. At the head of it all, you can see the procession leader, his staff in hand as he leads the band forward. Anyone who’s not carrying an instrument is marching in step just behind the procession leader and the band as they filter into the courtyard.
I notice Jackie’s eyes wide as she watches, and I can’t help looking over at her. “It looks like you’re enjoying it.”
“I’ve never been to anything like this. What . . . I don’t recognize all the instruments.”
“We’ll get you acquainted with them later on. Just enjoy the show for right no. This is the brass part of the procession.”
“There’s more?”
“Just wait until you hear the bagpipes.”
She looks up at me, confused. “Bagpipes?”
Almost in time to it, we listen as a distinct sound of windpipes starts to play through the courtyard as the back half of the band enters. Some have a huge drum strapped across the front of their bodies, their drumsticks beating against it as they filter inside, slowly forming a rotating circle moving one direction while the bagpipe players filter in, forming a circle moving the opposite direction. As the dr
ums and windpipes keep playing, the band members standing on the edge of the courtyard begin a slowly march around the perimeter, taking steps in rhythm with drums. While we watch, there’s this loud sound, like fabric unrolling, and Jackie turns, surprised, like she thinks we’re being attacked. Instead, she watches as the banner of Central Freedom unrolls from the top of Primary, covering the front of the banner in a wall of blue with a single golden tower positioned in the center.
“This is amazing,” she says as she looks from the flag and back to the bands playing in front of her. The music is swelling as the bands shift songs and formation, the bagpipe players giving way as dancers rush in, filling the center of the courtyard as the beat pick up, their legs moving in time to quickening pace. It’s mostly young women, wearing dresses that play on the military colors of the city, but there’s a few men in the center there, too. I can’t help but smile but watch as Jackie starts clapping to the tune, even as it’s starting to die down and the dancers come to a stop, falling in line as the bands start to circulate again, moving in intricate formations with one another. Lines of them crisscross with each other, the music never stopping until they’ve formed multiple straight rows all looking toward me and Jackie, and the rest of the representatives from government, all standing at doors to Primary.
Then, just when she’s thinks it’s over, we watch as explosions ring out through the dark sky. Big, bold explosions of orange and red. Jackie’s hand is over her chest as she watches, the firework erupting in the air as the bands play one final tune. When I look over, the poor girl’s actually got tears running down her cheeks. I don’t say anything. Instead, I just wave to the bands as they come to the final moments of their song, the fireworks overhead concluding with a magnificent explosion of fireworks. All around us, the crowd applauds as it all comes to an end, the music going silent and the lights going low before a single light falls on one of the buglers standing at the center of the courtyard.
“What’s going on?” she asks me.
I squeeze on her shoulder. “As a people, it’s important that we celebrate our victories together. At the same time, it’s important for us to remember the sacrifices of those who died to for our freedoms. This song is a memorial to them.” And with that, the bugler plays his long, lonely tune, the light on him slowly fading as the last taps of the bugle fade into the dark. After a long moment of quiet, one of the lights turns on me. I switch on my headset for just a second, my voice echoing out through the speakers around the courtyard, “In honor of all those who came before us and gave their lives to keep us safe, and in the hope of an even better future yet to come. Thank you all for attending.”