Authors: Mark Campbell
“If only I came a few minutes sooner,” Andrew said with a grin.
Jerri didn’t crack a smile and just stared at the floor.
“Of course they know. Everybody knows, it’s just a matter of
admitting it,” he said as he sat down next to her. “Honestly, people aren’t
stupid; they know we don’t have any cattle or a surplus of meat. They
know we didn’t get a magical supply of pork yesterday. They see or hear
the black bagging. They see the empty gallows. They know… but they’re
hungry. They’ve noticed the missing pets, the disappearing rats… They
knew but they didn’t care. Hunger makes people do things they never
thought they would do.”
“Ate it? No,” he said. “But I don’t judge those who do. I guess
it’s where we’re at now. Even before we resorted to our pets, I started
stockpiling the MREs when the ration drops came less and less
frequently.”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Camp 7 decided to fortify their walls
and quit being the kid in school who lets all the other kids play with their
toys. Now that they see the resources are dwindling, they’ve clutched their
toys against their chest.”
“Supply and demand,” Jerri said, shaking her head.
Andrew nodded.
“That was the point of the seed fiasco a month back. I think it
was their parting gift. They told us bluntly over the coms that they would
not be sending any additional supplies and that we should start growing
crops,” he said. “This bountiful harvest that the administration has so
lovingly bestowed on everyone is the end result.
“Right now, it is simply population control. We’ve got a fair share
of unsavory types and people don’t really care when they turn up missing.
Once our numbers come back under control, people
will
take notice… by
then it will be too late. People will still be hungry and the administration
will still need to find meat. Perhaps by that time they’ll implement a
lottery system or something. George Orwell, Suzanne Collins, and
Margret Atwood could have been prophets.”
Jerri thought for a moment and then looked over at him.
“Why are you working with these bastards?” she asked.
She narrowed her eyes.
“You know what I mean, smart ass,” she said.
Andrew chuckled and thought about the question for a while.
“I know that I’m expected to say it’s because I want to make a
difference and help people. I know that,” he said, choosing his words
carefully. “But… well, that’s bullshit. I don’t have any experience with law
enforcement. Before the outbreak, I sold televisions at Best Buy. I’m not
special. The reason I do what I do is because I’d rather be on this side of
the fence and not get messed with than to be on your side of the fence. Is
that honest enough for you?”
“What about you? You’re so intuitive and honest… how can you
stand living in this façade of a society when you know it can’t self-sustain
forever?”
“And you’d have a house, a husband, and two-point-five kids?”
Jerri laughed.
Jerri punched his arm.
They both laughed.
“There is more going on than the population reduction,” Andrew
said. “We have raiders camped a few miles away outside the wall… We
think they’re getting ready for a siege.”
“We've yet to get a response,” Andrew said. “I doubt we're the
last. More than likely it's technical issues. At the worst indifference. But
this is our reality. We have no idea what the marauders have for weapons.
Our camp could fall in a matter of hours. Staying is a gamble. We need to
get out of here.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll work something out. Would I be a complete
asshole if I told you that your friend's thousand yard stare freaks the shit
out of me?” he said.
Slowly, she opened the door and stepped inside with Andrew
following her. They both covered their nose to mask the stench of urine
as they tried to see in the dark room.
Krystal was sitting on the cot with her shirt off and breasts
exposed. Her skin was pale and her eyes were distant. Her whole body
looked haggard and weak.
Baby Jacob lay on the carpet, kicking and squirming in his own
feces and urine. His feet mashed into his runny stool and his fingers were
coated in it.
Krystal’s body shook easily and she offered no resistance.
“Stop…? Stop where?” Where is this?” Krystal asked again.
Andrew walked over and crouched near the baby. He carefully
picked the screaming child up and cradled him against his chest,
examining him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old
handkerchief.
“There’s a man I know who sneaks people out of the camp,”
Andrew said as he cleaned the baby up with the cloth. “He owes me for
looking the other way on a few things… He’ll take us out of here for free.
I trust him.”
“Then think of another way!” Jerri said. Her anxiety was getting
the better of her. She stood and started to pace the room, running her
fingers through her hair. She stopped and took the baby from Andrew
and gently rocked him.
The child stopped crying and started to talk gibberish.
Jerri bounced him in her arms.
Andrew was deep in thought.
The baby laughed.
Jerri, despite the circumstances, smiled. It’s been a long time since
she heard a baby’s laugh, and it was a ray of light in breaking through the
gloom of the situation.
“I’m absolutely sure,” Andrew said, smiling. “They have the two
ARKs which are the nation’s only central seed depositories, they have
cattle ranches, crops, and they have a large portion of what’s left of the
military. It’s safe there and there is no hunger, no rat meat, no…. You
know. It can be a fresh start for all of us.”
Jacob started to babble and laugh in her arms. Slowly, he opened
his eyes and looked up at her with two of the bluest most beautiful eyes
she ever seen.
Jerri was taken aback by the boy’s radiant gaze.
Andrew stood next to her, smiling down at the child in wonder.
Krystal rocked side-to-side, humming to herself.
Time stopped and things were peaceful for just a brief moment.
Nighttime had arrived and the two men patrolled their usual path
along the top of the perimeter wall. Hundreds of other sentries had joined
them, keeping an eye on the flickering campfires in the distance at the
marauder encampment.
Suddenly the remaining campfires went dark at the same time.
Hemingway and Bret didn’t notice.
“Oh yeah? What do you have?” Bret asked.
“I’ll pick… The Sopranos,” Hemingway said.
Bret threw his arms in the air.
“Every goddamn time! It never fails!!!” Bret shouted.
“What?” Hemingway asked innocently.
“The Wire,” Hemingway quickly responded.
“Oz!” Bret shouted. He was sure he got him.
“Two words,” Hemingway said with a sly smirk. “Breaking Bad.”
Bret thought for a moment and then stomped his feat, shouting.
Suddenly there was shouting coming from the nearby
watchtowers and the searchlights focused their beams across the desert
floor.
Multiple camouflaged individuals ran towards Camp 6’s walls.
They looked like heaps of desert shrubbery, all but invisible until they
were a few hundred yards away from the wall. The encroaching figures
leading the pack froze and a second line took position behind them, and
then a fourth, and then a fifth.
“
Attention, this is official United States government property. Do not come
any closer! You are trespassing!”
a voice boomed from the watchtower’s
speaker system.
The bushes remained perfectly still.
“
Turn around and leave immediately before we shoot!”
The enshrouded figures didn’t move.
The FEMA officers grew pale and pointed their laser sights in
every direction, trying to cover the entire horde at once, counting down in
their heads.
Crossbows peaked out from the shrubs and in a moment a cloud
of arrows whistled through the air. The first volley targeted the
watchtower searchlights. The lights shattered and were systematically
taken out, shrouding the camouflaged figures below in complete darkness.
Struck officers collapsed backwards onto the cold, unforgiving
ground. Others fell forward and became ensnared in the razorwire stung
along the wall’s edge. They twitched and convulsed violently.
A fourth volley of arrows came, and then a fifth.
The air raid siren continued to wail.
Arrows stuck civilians down in the camp below and took them
down like defenseless sheep ripe for the slaughter. The screams of the
dying was deafening as people ran for their lives.