Zomblog 05: Snoe's War Page 3

  Wow, people really did know the story. Heck, these people probably know my mom and dad better than I do. I mean, sure, I’ve read their journals…but some folks have passages committed to memory. I’ve even heard that there are some folks who have retraced the routes that Sam and Meredith describe.

  “Mama Lindsay. She was the head of the EEF at Sunset and also sort of the unofficial guard of the president.”

  “Did you know her…the president I mean?” Betty said with way too much awe.

  “I know her, she comes to the house…or at least she did when things were normal.” I saw something on Betty’s face flicker.

  “You don’t know.” Betty suddenly looked like she would rather be someplace else.

  “Know what?”

  “She…the president…” I felt dread building in my heart and the threat of tears in my eyes. “She has been in the cube for five days. Nobody has ever lasted beyond four. Folks say that she has actually killed three of the biters. Dominique has had to replace them and I guess she threatened to start tossing guards in because she can’t believe that the president isn’t doing this without help from somebody.”

  At first I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then it struck me…that huge contraption in the lobby. That had to be what she was talking about.

  “Well then, she must have not paid attention when they were running around together. Jenifer is about as mule-headed and stubborn as they come.” I was actually able to muster a laugh.

  “Still, nobody can last forever,” Betty said sadly. I also heard a lot more in those words than just concern for Jenifer.

  “So why did you scare everybody away? It wasn’t to tell me about the president or just ask who taught me how to fight.”

  “I guess I owe you a bit of an explanation.” Betty was really struggling to speak. She kept choking up and I was not sure if I was more confused, concerned, or curious.

  “About what?” Maybe she needed to be led down whatever path she was trying to go down.

  “In the ring…I went a little crazy.”

  Okay, a bit of an understatement coming from somebody who had told me to take a dive like she was doing me a favor.

  “Nobody has even come close to beating me in the ring. Pretty soon, they started using me to graduate the newbies. If they lasted a certain length of time and managed to get in a shot or two, they were considered ready. And not just the girls.”

  Her voice rang with a bit of pride. I had to imagine that she had not had an easy life up to this point despite the sense of community in Warehouse City, which I had been told was just like Sunset…only with about twice the people.

  “Wait…how long have Dominique’s people been here occupying Warehouse City?” I asked.

  “About three months…maybe a little longer.”

  Had it really been that long? Time just seems so odd. Have you ever noticed how a good day goes by in the blink of an eye, but a bad day lasts forever? And then…stack a bunch of bad days one after the other and you just lose all track after a while.

  “One day they had a soldier step in the ring with me.” Betty smiled and I had an understanding of the phrase “like the cat that ate the canary”. “He was talking about how I made it look easy, but that beating up on kids was a lot different than dealing with adults. I busted his jaw.”

  She smiled even bigger. I still didn’t know what that had to do with her going crazy in the ring. I kept quiet and waited for her to resume.

  “When they took me back to the dorm, Major Carson was there waiting,” Betty’s voice suddenly changed. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn that she was afraid. “He told me that I would stay here and be used as the final test for students who were about to be shipped out, but the first time I lost, he would walk me to the train car personally.”

  “The first time you lose? That seems kind of mean.”

  “Yeah, well you haven’t met Major Carson. Of course it didn’t help that it was her boyfriend’s jaw that I busted.”

  “Oh…so I take it that you don’t want to be a part of the New American Army?” I asked.

  “That is part of it, I mean why would I want to be out where the walkers rule the land? I grew up here in Warehouse City. I worked on a construction team and was on my way to being given my own work crew. My dad was so proud of me…”

  And then she choked up. For the first time, I saw what I was sure had to be tears start to well up in her eyes.

  “You live here with your dad?”

  “Yeah…actually, you and I have something in common in a way. I mean, nobody wrote about me in a book, but my dad knew your dad.”

  Now I was really curious. Betty wiped her eyes and her smile came back even bigger than before.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Who is your dad?”

  “Tom Langston.”

  ***

  Morning came early and it started bad. The day would only get worse.

  A dozen soldiers dressed in full gear came into the dorm and started yelling names. As some were called, they just stepped forward. Some did not, and that would prompt the soldiers to stomp over to one cot or the other and yank the person out to the middle of the room.

  “What is going on?” I whispered to Betty.

  “Shipping out a group,” Betty said from the corner of her mouth.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Who knows,” Betty said with a shrug. “They leave and that is the last we see of them…ever.”

  That made me remember what Phaedra told me about how her son had been taken. So where did everybody end up? Where were they sending them and what were they sending them to do?

  “The rest of you will assemble and eat breakfast. Afterwards, you will be going to the ring, and then some of you will be selected for a field test,” one of the soldiers told us as they were marching the ones who had been called out the door.

  Breakfast was wheeled in. It consisted of flatbread and watery oatmeal. I looked around and noticed that everybody ate in silence as the soldiers walked around glaring at us.

  As soon as we were finished, we repeated the same routine as yesterday. I wanted to ask Betty what a field test was, but I thought I had a pretty good idea.

  This time, Betty made sure not to be in my group. I felt strange as she was led away with her group of “twos” while I went with the “fives” to my ring.

  My opponent was a boy about my age. He had a sneer on his face when we entered the caged fighting ring. He couldn’t sneer as well with the busted lip and puffy cheek when we were done. I noticed a few people giving me a nod. I also noticed the soldiers with their heads together talking and making no secret about the fact that it was about me as they stared and pointed while writing things down.

  So I guess that is why I wasn’t surprised when my name was called for this so-called field test. After lunch we were all told to line up at the door. I sat next to Betty during lunch, but we did not have a chance to say anything because a pair of soldiers stood right behind us the entire time talking.

  “So she finally gave in?” the one was saying.

  “It only took a second,” the other replied. “She fell from exhaustion and it was a three-way tug-of-war. But get this…I hear that President DuBois is pissed. Not only did she miss it, but I hear that scar-faced bitch never uttered a peep. Got ripped apart and not one single scream.”

  I knew right away who they were talking about. A woman that I grew up admiring was dead. She was dead and these people were laughing and joking about it! I felt something inside me start to change. I had never really known what hatred was until that moment. But it was what I heard next that probably changed me for good.

  “And now that dyke is in there…I hear that President DuBois has set up her desk by the cube to ensure that she doesn’t miss this one.”

  They kept talking, but I didn’t hear any of it. My ears started ringing and I felt like I needed to cry, but I couldn’t.

  When lunch was finished, I got up with the o
thers who were going to be tested. We were led to another room and each of us assigned to a soldier. The soldier had us putting on all sorts of what I would consider unnecessary gear. One of the things that you learned in the EEF was to wear protective clothing while not letting it become restrictive. The things they had on my legs made it almost impossible to bend my knees. If I ended up having to crawl or climb, I would be like a robot.

  Once we were dressed out, we were marched outside. I noticed that we were taken out the back. I wondered if Dominique thought that she could just do what she wanted with my mother now that she had me. And while all of it seemed very petty, I had very little problem seeing the rotten little child who had run off on my mom and Jenifer and then tried to have them killed.

  Mama Lindsay used to tell me that there were a lot of problem children back in the days before the zombies, and that she believed some of it had to do with the fact that parents could not discipline their children without fear of being arrested. It made me wonder just what had turned Dominique into the person she had become. I could not understand how one person might be able to take any pleasure in killing another.

  As I stepped outside, I saw that a new batch of people had been hung from the gallows. This was just more that didn’t make sense. If she was building an army and conquering people, what was the sense in killing them all? Who would she be the leader of if everybody ended up being executed?

  We were led to the main gate of the city and told to line up. A man with a clipboard came down the line and scribbled something down as he got to each one of us. When he got to me he stopped and looked around like he suddenly forgot how to do his job.

  “Who’s the newbie…and why is she going on this run?” he asked.

  “This is that one the president mentioned at the assembly last week,” one of the soldiers said.

  That made a few of the other soldiers start looking at me funny. However, I also noticed a couple of the other kids give me a glance. I wondered how much longer I was going to be able to stay anonymous.

  As we went through the gates, our soldier guides started explaining what exactly we would be doing. There was a small tribal community rumored to be in the area. We were going in to ask for volunteers. The expectation was that we would be refused. At that point, our objective was to secure every single citizen that looked to be between the ages of ten and forty. By the time we exited through an opening in the Corridor that had obviously been made by Dominique’s forces, the explanations were over and we were just a column marching to our objective.

  Our group of twenty “recruits” and thirty actual soldiers would be an impressive force for any but the largest of the tribal communities. They didn’t usually number above thirty people total. Along the way, we passed a few recently killed walkers. I was wondering who had killed them, whether it was soldiers from Warehouse City or the tribe we were going after when another dozen soldiers sort of drifted out of the surrounding ruins of what looked like a massive apartment complex and joined us.

  I immediately realized that these people knew very little about the tribes in this area. Many of them had adopted the sign of an animal: wolves, grizzlies, eagles, falcons. Mama Lindsay said that most were doing so because of former schools that had once populated the area. I guess schools held regular contests against other schools. To identify one from another, they wore different colors and adopted names of all sorts of creatures…including ones that never existed. It all seemed silly, but many of these tribes had gone so far as to scavenge clothing from the school that was decorated with images of whatever namesake they had chosen.

  As we marched, I saw signs and images that told me this particular tribe called itself “Spartans.” I was vaguely familiar from my history classes that there was a particular group of Greeks that used that name. They were not very nice people if my memory served me. Unfortunately, these people had very little in common with those fierce warriors from ancient Greece.

  We walked into their little village and the children actually started coming out to greet us. I had to wonder how little the tribes communicated with each other if this was how we were greeted. I had almost expected either armed resistance or folks running away and screaming in terror.

  A man came out of one of the huts. He was all dressed in blues and silvers and I really think he believed that we might be arriving with great news or something like that. The soldier leading our column did not even break stride as he brought up his crossbow and shot the man in the face. The bolt went in the man’s eye, but the other one was still wide open in surprise and staring blankly at the sky as I walked past.

  People started screaming, children started crying. And we were told to start grabbing people that fit the range we’d been given. Each of us had been paired and a soldier was supposed to watch over us and only become involved if we failed. Of course it was also implied that failure was going to be met with some serious discipline later.

  As we started gathering individuals up, I ended up walking into a hut. Inside, I discovered a woman I assumed to be the mother standing in front of three children. All of them—including the mother—would actually fit the criteria we had been given.

  The person I had been paired with stepped into the hut and produced four sets of cuffs. He glanced at me and shot me a look as if to question why I did not have my own set out yet. I just stood there. The woman was crying and begging us not to take her children. The children were crying and huddled around the woman, clutching at her.

  “Hey, newbie,” my so-called partner prodded, “you just gonna stand there?”

  “You’re okay with this?” I turned and asked the boy who could not be any older than me.

  He got a stupid and confused look on his face. Then he looked past me to the door we had come through. The soldier had accompanied us to that point and then sent us in with the words “Don’t screw this up” or some such nonsense.

  A thought formed and I did not really have time to pick it apart and weigh out the pros and the cons. All I could think of was that night I just laid there and listened to another person be treated so horrible…and then end up dead. And while I still believe in my heart that if I had tried to do anything, the only thing different about the outcome was that there would be two dead bodies instead of one, I still regret my inaction.

  The only thing that registered as concrete in my mind was the fact that I would probably not have this good of an opportunity again. Also, it was obvious that Dominique was done using my mother as leverage. I still did not see what sense there was in killing Mama Lindsay. After all, if she was supposed to be my reason for staying in line, did she not think that I would want to see her every once in a while? And how long did she think that she could put me off?

  Then there was also the possibility that this lunatic woman no longer cared. She seemed the sort who would change her mind on a whim and then act without thinking it through. I wonder if she ever sat in her room and regretted some of those decisions she has made over time? I doubted it.

  And then there were the funny looks that I was already starting to get from the soldiers. I had a feeling that the little announcement that had been shared with them told them who I was. Sooner or later, somebody was going to try to make themselves famous. (That is what Mama Lindsay always said about people who tried to hurt me when I was young. That they were just trying to make themselves famous by association.)

  I looked at the mother again and winked. I had given her enough of an appraisal to know that she could handle herself. Of course, it is kind of difficult to live outside of The Corridor and not be at least a little bit of a bad ass.

  I tried to use my eyes to send a message to the woman. I had no way of knowing if she understood until I acted. From that point on, it was a matter of hoping for the best. I flipped open the pouch that held my cuffs. When I reached in, I sort of wrapped my hands in one set.

  Without warning, I spun and socked my up-to-that-point teammate. The blow landed right on the tip of his chin and h
e went down like a sack of rocks. One of the children shrieked and the mother clamped a hand over the little girl’s mouth.

  “Hurry up in there,” the soldier outside shouted. I was surprised at how disinterested he sounded.

  “Please tell me there is a back way out of here,” I whispered.

  The woman looked at me and I could see her running through a list of possibilities. Luckily, she did not take long, and even luckier was the fact that she decided to trust me. She pointed to the floor.

  I stepped back as she moved towards me. She shoved the unconscious form of the boy I had knocked out to the side and flipped up a small square of carpet. Underneath was a trap door. I nodded for her to lead the way.

  We jumped down into a very narrow tunnel. Apparently these folks practice using them or something because in no time at all they had left me behind. I had to fight down a little feeling of anger. After all, I had just rescued them and now they were leaving me behind. However, I also know that I would do the exact same thing if I were them. It is sort of foolish to have somebody go through all the trouble of saving your life and then you screw up and die anyways because you kept waiting for that person to continue saving you. The saving is a very simple and single act. Once you have done it, the rest is up to the person you have provided that opportunity. That is something Mama Lindsay and Mama Janie stressed while I was growing up.

  A small square of light appeared just ahead after I rounded what felt like the millionth corner. I had to wriggle a bit to climb out. All my gear was making me a bit bulky. That was when I realized that the tribal people did not bog themselves down with a whole bunch of protective gear. They were built for speed.

  When I climbed out of the hole, the mother was standing there. She also happened to have a great big knife in her hand that was pointed at my eyeball.

  “Whoa!” I put my hands up. “I just helped you and your family escape, I really don’t think we need to do this.”

  “I don’t want you following us,” the woman said in a whisper. “We are going this way,” she cocked her head off to her left, “and I don’t want you following us.”