by Jason Luthor
“To be honest, I resent the fact that I have to think about fighting even when I’m off duty now that there’s a military presence everywhere.”
It makes me frown a little, but he’s not totally wrong. Just looking down the street, I can see where soldiers are doing security checks before people walk into a building. “When did they start doing those?”
“When the War Council became convinced that the reason the raiders were able to hit us so hard was because they were being fed information from our side.”
“Spies? What the hell?” I whisper. “I mean, I guess they could be right.”
“So, we start checking residents now, even though we didn’t have any proof before that they did anything. What happens when the War Council doesn’t find any evidence of anyone being a traitor?”
“They stop the security checks?”
“We can hope.”
“But you don’t think that’s what’ll happen?”
“I think that, even if Yousef isn’t that bad, like Jackie claims, the Advisory Council and the War Council are paranoid. Now that they’ve gotten the green light to start checking residents, who’s going to stop them if they decide to escalate things? What if they decide they need to start searching our homes?”
“I thought the Advisory Council was supposed to keep things in check.”
“They were, on paper.” He sighs as we pass by the checkpoint and keep moving down the street. “Except it’s a majority vote, and they all side with the same guy. “
“I’m guessing that’s not the president.”
“No. It’s Nikola Dravic. In theory, President Branagh still runs Central by heading up the War Council and the Advisory Council. In reality, the generals are all deferring to Yousef over in Fort Silence, while the Advisory Council, the people that are supposed to keep the War Council in check, defer to Nikola. And of course, Nikola was friends with Yousef’s dad.”
“And he doesn’t care about Yousef increasing the military presence this way.”
“Of course not. Things were barely any better when he was president, at least from what everyone’s told us.”
“But . . . it’s not that bad, Tommy. It’s not like it was in the Tower.”
“I doubt things in the Tower started badly. It’s more believable that things got that way slowly. The worst part is everyone’s okay giving away their freedoms because they’re scared of the raiders now.”
“And by the time they realize how much they’ve given away, it’ll be almost impossible to get those freedoms back.”
“Unless they fight back, but when the military’s against you and the police are against you . . .” He rubs at his forehead. “Well, I guess I’m just hoping that you’re right and things never get to that point.”
“Or that Jackie rethinks where she stands on it.”
“Yeah. Jackie’s as great as she ever was, it’s just, on this issue . . .”
“I know.”
He reaches out and puts an arm around me, bringing me into his side. “Do I ever tell you how much better my life is because of you?”
“No,” I say as I’m laughing. “You’re always too busy talking about politics and the military.”
“Yeah. That’s what they tell me. Maybe it’s time we took a vacation.”
Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 17
Dodger looks over at me and seems confused. “You really don’t mind me helping with this?”
I laugh as I set a pile of boxes on the table. “Mind? Do you know how badly we need these medical supplies shipped around town? They need them even worse out in the colonies.”
Just seconds later, Cynthia sets a second pile of boxes down next to mine. “Yeah, Dodger. I wish you had let me know that you’d like to help a long time ago. I always knew you were a good soldier, but I didn’t think you were interested in, well . . .” She looks around at the rows of tables, all lined with boxes. “Packing and shipping.”
I raise a finger. “Not just any packing and shipping. Let’s remember that. These are the sorts of supplies that could save someone’s life in an emergency, if they were able to get treatment in time. This island is almost 23 square miles of land and it’s a maze of streets and buildings. The medical clinic’s we’ve set up around town in the different districts mean the difference between life and death for hundreds of thousands of people, and that goes double for our people living in the Deadlands.”
Dodger nods as she sorts boxes, pushing some into one pile and arranging other boxes into a second pile. “We get all these from the supply runs, right? Stuff we find out in the Deadlands. I’ve never heard of us making stuff like . . .” Her eyebrow raises as she takes a look at the label on the box. “Penicillin? That’s an antibiotic.”
“A powerful one that treats all kinds of infections. Not Creep infections, unfortunately.”
“And how long have you been working here at the medical depot?”
Cynthia laughs. “He’s been volunteering his free time here since I was a little girl. I was still in the colonies, of course, but Mr. Branagh’s civil service is legendary, which is why he was elected president. Even as president, he still comes down here to volunteer.”
“Yeah, well,” I say with an embarrassed rub at the back of my head. “Serving in the militia’s all well and good, but you can’t run a city with the military alone, no matter what the people at Fort Silence think. Hard, honest work in the name of the people . . . that’s what makes a community. That’s the difference between a real, thriving society and just a military dictatorship.”
Dodger sighs as she sets another box aside. “I take it you’re not happy with what’s going on in the city?”
“Well, there’s a reason I’m here and not at Central Primary. I’m trying to get back to my roots and help where I know it’s needed most. Besides, the Advisory Council isn’t putting up much resistance to the War Council, and the War Council may as well be taking marching orders from Nikola and Yousef.” I sigh as read over the label of one of my boxes and set it on the table behind me. “I suppose this is where they want me, anyway. I was never like a lot of the council. Most of them were born fortunate. I was the son of longshoreman, back when the city was still using the docks to get people across to the mainland. A blue collar boy. The council never appreciated me being voted president.”
“Tommy’s not happy about the situation either. He doesn’t like how much this all reminds him of the Tower. By the way, he wanted me to tell you hello. He’s sorry he couldn’t come out to help.”
“He’s still got his duties to do. Besides, I know he’s keeping tabs of those snakes in the Advisory Council.”
“I think he’s actually talking to them today.”
“I’m unfortunately aware. I told him I’d need him to represent me. Most of them would like me dragged into the council chambers to be humiliated. No thanks. I’ll do my work right here, for the people.” I smile as I look at her. “I’ll tell this to him myself later, but that kid’s taking a bullet for me today, so pass along my thanks. You got yourself a real keeper, Dodger. Don’t let that guy go.”
She smiles as she brushes hair out of her face. “Yeah, I’m kind of used to having him around at this point. I don’t think I could get rid of him if I wanted to. Which I wouldn’t, obviously.” The girl stops for a second before looking over at me. “You know, maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, maybe he should say it himself, or . . . I don’t know, but you know he really respects you.”
“I appreciate that. I really respect him, too.”
“No. I don’t think you get what I’m saying.” She stops sorting boxes for a second and takes a look over at me. “When we first came to Central, I was the one who wanted to leave most. I still want to, sometimes, but only because I’ve got family back in the Tower I need to bring out here. I mean, eventually. The thing is that, when all of us got out into the Deadlands, the plan was for us to find some way of killing the Creep. We thought that by working here in Ce
ntral, we could do that, and that would make it easier to convince the people running the Tower to let everyone go. Plus, we were kind of scared of going back without . . . support. Military support. We thought maybe you’d help us with that, when the time came.”
Cynthia and I both stop sorting and take a look over at her. I give her a smile to calm her down. “That’s not a big ask for people like you. You’ve done so much for the city, I would’ve argued it day and night in the council. So why not ask?”
“Because . . . we didn’t think you could afford the people. Then time kept rolling by, and things changed.” She glances over at Cynthia with this huge grin. “Mikey fell for you, for one.”
That puts a big smile on her face. “I . . . Mike made me fall for him, too. He always cared so much about taking care of Mandy that I almost could not fall for him.”
“Well, that was one reason we didn’t leave. Mike wouldn’t have left once you two got together. Tommy didn’t want to leave, either,” she says as she looks at me. “Has Tommy ever told you about his father?”
I glance down for a second, rubbing my hands clean before looking back up at her. “Uh, no. Do the two of them have problems?”
“Tommy’s dad is an alcoholic. It’s why he hates it whenever he drinks too much. It’s why he got really upset when Jackie . . .” She sucks in a deep breath and squeezes her eyes tight for a second before continuing. “When Jackie went to his place drunk and smashed a chair in his room.”
“I didn’t hear about that.”
“He didn’t want to tell anyone. This is Jackie Coleman we’re talking about, the girl who’s saved our lives a thousand times. He knows she wouldn’t do anything to hurt him or us, but . . . it reminded him of his dad. His dad used to smash furniture and scream at Tommy. Whenever his dad was angry, he’d throw Tommy in a closet and just let him sit there. Sometimes overnight.”
Cynthia gasps. “Oh my God.”
Dodger nods. “Yeah. He’d physically jerk Tommy around. Bruised him. I don’t think h ever hit Tommy, but still, no good guy does that sort of thing.” Dodger’s shoulders heave as she smiles at me. “Well, now you know why I’ve never made a bigger deal about us going home. Tommy doesn’t have anything to go back to but an abusive, alcoholic dad. And . . . he looks at you like his father figure.”
It takes me a little by surprise, and I just stand and stare at her for a second. “Dodger, I’m flattered, but at the same time, I’m sorry that I didn’t think more about helping you all out.”
“It’s fine. I can’t speak for Jackie. I mean, as strong as she is, she won’t go back to the Tower and I don’t know why. Something happened to her out in the Deadlands she won’t talk about. Mike has you, Cynthia. Tommy has no reason to go back to the Tower. But I . . .” She wipes at her face, and Cynthia rushes around the table to give her a hug. “After Linda died, I just wanted to see my mom and dad so they could tell me things would be alright. I just . . . I miss my parents, man. It feels like the last time I brought this up was right before Jackie showed up, and since then . . .”
“Since then, everything’s been a mess.” I tap at the table, and I can feel myself biting at my lip. “I’ll talk to the council. See if there’s some way we can divert some effort to connecting Central to your home. We’re always talking about needing more colonies and needing more people. Well, why not the Tower?”
“Don’t tell Tommy I said any of this.”
“No. No. I’ll keep it in mind, though.” I look at Cynthia. “Why don’t you two take five for a while? I can handle sorting some packages on my own for a little bit.”
“We’ll get some strawberry water,” she says as she rubs Dodger’s back. The poor girl’s obviously about to tear up, and Cynthia gets her out of the tent so they can talk for a little bit. When they’re outside and heading to the nearest food cart, I take a step back from the table and suck in a deep breath. “Well, Gabriel. Fine mess you’ve got to clean up here.”
Tommy’s Recording 25
I hold my hand up and try to quiet the council. “Ladies and gentlemen, in no way is the president trying to disrespect the rest of you—”
The words are barely out of my mouth before Tasha Bouley jumps out of her chair. “Excuse me, young man? The president doesn’t show for a meeting of the Advisory Council, and you tell us that he’s not being disrespectful?”
“Ma’am Representative, I promise you he would be here if he felt like he was contributing.”
“So he only comes around when he thinks he should have to?”
Rosy Quintana shouts from near the back of the council table. “Just where is the president? What was so important that he thought he could just abandon his duties?”
I signal to her. “For the record, I believe he’s at the central medical depot, near the Green Zone. President Branagh thought that, since this council has obviously conceded its authority to the War Council, that he could do more for the public by getting medical products where they needed to go.”
That’s when another voice barks at me from the rear of the table. It’s that pudgy faced General McCullum, his insanely large belly swinging past council members as he paces toward the rear. “That’s a damned insult to all the brave men and women living up to their duties, going out there into the Deadlands and putting their lives on the line. Meanwhile, the president doesn’t get his way, so he takes his ball and goes home. What right does he have to point fingers at the War Council and tell us we’re taking over civil issues?”
I’m about to defend myself when Colonel Martin steps up beside me, barking back at McCullum. To be honest, I’m actually little shocked to hear him defend me. “General, you waltz in here to these council chambers and sit in on this meeting, ready to tell us everything the militia wants done on the streets, and then you have the gall to say the War Council isn’t exceeding its duties? Since when does the War Council hand down orders to the Advisory Council?”
McCullum’s chubby finger thrusts at Martin. “Don’t you take that tone, Martin. Are you forgetting that you’re still a militia officer?”
“Not right now, I’m not. I’m off duty, serving in the capacity of an advisor to the president. That makes me a political representative at the moment, so I don’t recognize your claim of authority in these council chambers.”
“Damn it, Martin, why do you always have to do things the hard way? It’s why you were never considered for a promotion, you know.”
Martin’s face tenses up as he sucks in a breath and tries to hold back from saying something he’ll regret. “General, if the chain of command thought me ill-suited for a promotion, then I’ll simply append a protest to my record. Not that it will do any good, since we know neither one of these councils is showing any resistance to the orders coming down from Fort Silence.” His eyes go over to Nikola. “Isn’t that right, Representative Dravic?”
The old dog turns those sharp, calculating eyes at Martin. “You bring me into this? Why? What would I have to gain from deferring to General Suliman?”
That gets a laugh out of me. “You’re joking, right? You were best friends with the guy’s father. You kept personal ties with Fort Silence way after they split with Central and were personally responsible for establishing a temporary alliance with General Yousef before you were voted out. Now President Branagh’s having his policies undermined because even he can’t do anything when both the Advisory and War Councils are teaming up against him.”
“Maybe he should become more skilled at politics,” he says with a sneer. “I respect Branagh. The record shows I supported him through most of the last year. It can’t be helped that he doesn’t have the ability to strongly lead this city.”
That’s when another voice rises, this time Michael Tan’s, shouting at Nikola. “You presided over a wave of mass disappearances in this city, and then you have the audacity to accuse President Branagh of being a weak leader?”
“I thought Branagh always had to speak for you, Michael. I’m happy to see you actu
ally have a tongue of your own to use. I’m sure your wife must be happy, too.”
“You son of a bitch,” he shouts back before launching on top of the table, Dravic’s eyes going wide as he gets hit with Tan’s full weight coming down on him. I barely register what’s going on before Tan’s fists are coming down on Dravic’s face, all 120 pounds of Michael’s thin frame somehow keeping Dravic pinned to the floor. “My sister disappeared while you were president. I’m on this council because I was voted to replace her!”
Me, Martin, and somehow McCullum are immediately on top of him. I rip him off and throw him into the general, who wraps the smaller man in his burly arms. Dravic’s on the verge of throwing his own punches when Martin’s arm comes from behind and wraps him in a chokehold to restrain him. I motion for two guards to drag the council members to opposite sides of the room. After taking a second to catch my breath, I grab a stack of papers and slam the table, everyone going quiet as I run my hands through my hair.
“You want to know why the president didn’t come? Because most of you are spoiled assholes, that’s why,” I tell them, almost on the verge of shouting. “Tasha, no offense, but I’ve never met someone who’s asked for so much but given so little back. And Rosy? There’s never been an opportunity to take someone down that you haven’t gotten some sick little bit of enjoyment from. People, right now, we’ve got tanks on the streets and military checkpoints making every citizen of Central scared they’re going to do something wrong and get shot dead on the sidewalk. But what’s on the itinerary for today?”
I pick up that same stack of papers and read aloud from the list. “Representative Tasha Bouley would like to know why the garden on her estate hasn’t been maintained recently. According to her statement, the garden is critically important for maintaining positive connections with influential members of the community.” My eyes stare over the edge of the paper at her. “It’d be nice if you told those influential community members to help their less fortunate neighbors once in a while, Tasha.” My eyes shift over to Rosy. “Representative Rosy Quintanilla wants to know when something will be done about the noise that tanks from Fort Silence are creating near her home.” I toss the papers on the table. “That’s more important than the fact that we have tanks on the street at all? How the hell do most of you even keep getting voted in when it doesn’t seem like you care whether the city burns or not?”