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Authors: Mark Campbell

BOOK: Desolation
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“I didn’t check on her yet,” she said, crossing her arms on her
lap, sighing. “I had to get out of those clothes…”

“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.

“What is it?” Andrew asked, losing the grin. “The… food
situation?”

 

“Among other things, yes,” she said. She looked at him earnestly.
“Do they… do they even know what they’re…”

 

Andrew scoffed.

“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.”

“Have you…?” Jerri started.

“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.”

“So you saw this coming,” Jerri muttered. She felt stupid; she
should have done the same thing.

“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.

“Well,” Andrew said, “employers are kind of limited at the
moment and I hate to be bored.”

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?”

“The winning side, huh?” Jerri said with disdain.

 

“Well, I’m not sure we’re winning anything anymore,” he looked
over at her and smiled.

“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?”

Jerri picked at a loose thread on her pants and thought about the
question for a few seconds.

 

“I just hoped things would go back to normal one day,” she said,
looking up at the ceiling. “Like this would all is one big bad dream.”

“And you’d have a house, a husband, and two-point-five kids?”
Jerri laughed.

“Yeah, and then you could sell me a new flatscreen for my
massive living room,” she said with a smirk.

 

“Well, I’d probably ask you for your number afterwards,” he said.
“But you forgot my imaginary husband. I’d have a ring on,” she
said with a wave of her finger and a ‘tsk’.

 

Andrew shrugged.

 

“I never did say I was a
good
guy,” he said with a sly grin. “I’m just
an old dog trying to catch a bone where I can.”

Jerri punched his arm.
They both laughed.

“Things are bad outside the walls, Jerri,” Andrew said, tone
changing. “We may have to leave sooner than expected.”

 

“Why’s that?” Jerri asked, confused.

“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.”

Jerri looked at him, stunned.

 

“Why not call for backup from one of the neighboring camps?
We’re not the last one left, right?” she asked.

 

Andrew shrugged.

“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.”

“First we need to go check on my friend and then you can regale
us with your plan for escape,” Jerri said.

 

She stood up and Andrew stood up next to her, chuckling.

“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.

“Yes, but unlike most assholes at least you’d be an honest one.”
16
“H
ey,” Jerri said, knocking, “open up, it’s me.”
There was no answer.

 

Jerri put her ear against the door and heard the baby crying. She
looked at Andrew and shook her head.

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.

Andrew hit the light switch on the wall and the fluorescent
fixture on the ceiling flickered to life.

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.

Andrew quickly looked away and put his hands on his knees,
fighting his gag reflex.

 

“What happened?!” Jerri shouted as she ran over towards her.
Krystal looked at Jerri and a small flicker of recognition lit up in
her eyes.

 

“Jerri…?” she asked in a state of bewilderment. “What… where
is this…?”

 

Jerri stared at her, mouth agape.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you…? Stop this!” Jerri shouted,
shaking Krystal by the shoulders. “Stop being like this!”

Krystal’s body shook easily and she offered no resistance.
“Stop…? Stop where?” Where is this?” Krystal asked again.

“She’s lost it,” Andrew said from the doorway. “There goes my
idea.”

 

Jerri spun towards him, exasperated.

 

“What can we do?! What was your plan?!” she pleaded with panic
in her voice.

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.”

Krystal cooed to herself and rocked side-to-side on the bed,
dancing to a song nobody heard but her.

 

Andrew frowned.

 

“He’ll never take her though,” he said, nodding towards Krystal.
“She’s a liability.”

“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.

Andrew was broken from his concentration and looked over the
laughing baby. He couldn’t help but smile himself.

 

“Do you honestly think things are any better in Camp 7 than they
are here?” she asked.

“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.”

“Almost sounds too good to be true,” Jerri said, thinking about
the picturesque scene of a quaint farming community.

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.

17
“C
SI Miami,” Bret said with his rifle slung over his shoulder.
Hemingway snorted.

 

“You better come up with something better than that if you want
to win this round,” Hemingway replied nonchalantly.

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.

The marauders hadn’t moved all day and the campfires burned
steadily throughout the night.

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.

“You said network channels only!!! You always change the rules!
The Sopranos was on cable! HBO!” Bret shouted.

 

“Nu-uh,” Hemingway said, closing his eyes. “It was on Fox or
something.”

 

“You’re a fucking liar!” Bret said. “If you want to cheat and use
cable shows, then let’s go!” He thought for a moment. “The Shield!”

“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.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” Bret exclaimed. “Okay, okay, okay! New
game! I call it!”

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.

It looked like an army of Sonoran Desert fauna had taken a stand
against the heavily fortified camp.


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.

“Fuck!” Bret shouted, “They’re making a move!”

 

Hemingway unslung his rifle and sighted-in on one of the shrubs
in the front.

 

“Easy pickings,” Hemingway said.

 

The other officers on the wall sighted-in on the camouflaged
invaders and scanned the bushes with their laser sights.

The bushes remained perfectly still.

Turn around and leave immediately before we shoot!”
The enshrouded figures didn’t move.

“All primaries, you’re clear to fire at will in three seconds,”
the
watchtower speaker announced.

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.

One of the officers took an early shot and struck one of the
bushes.

 

The man who was enshrouded in the bush grunted and collapsed
onto the desert sand, bleeding out a pool of crimson.

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.

The officers on the wall and in the towers ducked and started
firing wildly and ineffectively into the desert night, panicking.
The air raid siren started wailing.

 

A second volley of arrows snapped as they struck against the steel
wall.

 

A third volley flew higher into the air and shattered the
watchtower windows.

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.

Those who were hit collapsed and died rapidly, convulsing and
foaming at the mouth.

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