Hot Zone (12 page)

I still knew that my nerves were doing their thing, but I couldn’t feel it. It was as if he had separated the part of me that needed to function from my nerves and adrenalin that went with them. He pivoted away from me and nearly ran from the room, gasping. I went after him, concerned, but as I left the room, Meri and Phil took my hands and we walked out on the stage.

I gaped at the crowd. I didn’t know that Catfish had this many people still alive in it. There must have been two hundred people in the auditorium. Whatever Fred had done to me didn’t waver, and I went to the microphone. “Hello, everyone,” I said casually, and a few people who knew me, or more likely, my dad, called out hellos. I took a deep breath, and started to talk.

I told them our idea to get everyone together to talk about the problems and challenges facing us now. I started at the top of the agenda and we worked our way through. It took a long time—there were many people who wanted to talk and share their opinion. But no one left. Not much was actually decided, but we were discussing how to protect ourselves from gangs when there was a commotion at the back of the auditorium. Then three men in black t-shirts were walking down the aisle. I noticed that each t-shirt had the name ‘Gabriel’ in plain white letters across it. It reminded me of how men at concerts had worn ‘security’ across their t-shirts to identify themselves.

“We’re from Gabriel,” one of them called.

Gabriel.

Chapter 8: Enter Gabriel, Stage North

I was usually giggling with my friends during Sunday school, so I don’t really know who Gabriel was in the Bible. I’m thinking that he blew a trumpet or something. I do know he was famous. I wonder if the famous angel Gabriel was unhappy that he was about to be pushed aside as the most famous Gabriel, at least in the quarantine zone.

I want to back up a little and make sure you understand the very real devastation of the Twin Cities. They were ruined. Buildings were toppled from several huge gas line explosions (at least that is what we were told—gas lines). Fires had burned merrily until they put themselves out. Power had failed early on, and no men in white Minnesota Power trucks had come to restore it. The Cities had been the single largest story in the Zone.

In a way, I wasn’t that interested in what had happened in the Cities. In Minnesota there is one major metro area—the Twin Cities. The rest of the state, and we’re not a small state, is smaller cities, towns, farms, lakes, forests. Sometimes we’re called outstate Minnesota. So there is kind of this divide between the people in the Cities and the rest of us. We probably feel a little left out as they talk about light rail and traffic congestion. For whatever reason, I had tuned out of a lot of the talk about the Cities after I realized it was trashed. If I hadn’t, I would have heard about Gabriel much sooner.

The cities were wasted, as I’ve said. No real services, and no government left. It was simply a ruin. People who hadn’t liked living within the rules of society before suddenly were there to take advantage of the chaos. As if the disaster had pulled them out of the ground where they had slumbered, there were now gangs and thugs galore. Anyone who could leave, left the area, and those who stayed protected themselves. No laws—none that were being upheld, anyway.

Into this boiling chaos entered Gabriel. I don’t remember when I first heard his name. Maybe it was mentioned by some reporter as someone in the Cities. Maybe it was mentioned by someone else around me. I remember having heard the name several times before I realized I had missed something important.

Gabriel was taming the Twin Cities. Somehow this man who hadn’t even been known before the bombings was rising as the defender and law of the Twin Cities. He seemed to have his own gang of men, and had apparently thrown the previous government and whatever constitution Minnesota had into the garbage and started anew. In other words, Gabriel didn’t rise into power as governor; he rose to power as possibly the heart, but definitely the fist of the Cities.

Order was restored, but a new order. Gabriel was in charge. He didn’t have to force this, for most of the people welcomed his order, however he got it. The ones who didn’t welcome him? I don’t know what happened to them, but they melted away or disappeared or went back underground. The Cities were news again, but the news was controlled by Gabriel now.

This sounds so ominous as I write it, but it didn’t feel that way, not really. All who met him universally loved Gabriel. People couldn’t sign up to help him fast enough. When he went out he was feted like a rock star. The rock star image was even helped along by his bodyguards who went with him whenever he went out. They were part muscle, and part aides, I guess. He would point to something, and one of them would direct someone else and soon, whatever it was that Gabriel wanted would be done.

Okay, yeah. I was a little amazed and nervous about the way he had rocketed to popular stardom. But I suppose I thought that it would take a strong man to get the Cities back on its feet again, so if Gabriel wanted to do it, then good for him. The thing that bothered me, and I couldn’t figure out why this bothered me, was that everyone loved him. There wasn’t a negative word heard from anyone who had met him. Not one. That seemed off to me somehow, but maybe he was really that great of a person. The other thing that bothered me was that he had come from nowhere. The reporters who seemed to want to find out more about who he was would dig and find nothing. Of course the records had been destroyed, and Internet was spotty at best, but no one seemed to wonder. From a country that usually knew whether its political leaders wore boxers or briefs, I thought this attitude of general acceptance was a little odd.

Gabriel’s physical appearance was enough to probably earn him star status. He had skin that looked healthy and tanned, but I suspected it was as much of his natural skin color as any kind of tanning booth. His hair was dark, nearly black in his TV appearances, and cut longer than most men wore it, curling around his ears in a healthy shiny mane. Often a curly lock would fall into his face, and he would toss it away in a move that I wagered had most of the female watchers sighing. His face was strong, but also there was sensitivity there in his chiseled features as well. His cheekbones were high, and his eyes were dark—maybe brown or blue. He wore glasses that were barely there—the frameless kind. The total effect was of someone who was strong, intelligent and caring.

The strangest thing of all was the
speed
in which this all occurred. From the first time I heard of him as an important person in the Twin Cities to the day I realized he was in complete control there was only a matter of weeks. It just didn’t seem possible. What I hadn’t realized is that apparently Gabriel wasn’t content with just the Cities.

Chapter 9: The Meeting, Continued

While I had heard of Gabriel, I hadn’t ever even considered that his men might make an appearance in our little town. I didn’t know what to do, but whatever Fred had done was still in effect, and I felt calm and controlled. I waited for them to come closer to me before addressing them.

“Hello men-from-Gabriel,” I said, smiling. “To what do we owe this honor?” These didn’t seem like words I would ever say. I wondered if I was channeling Abraham Lincoln. Perhaps I would recite the Gettysburg Address for an encore.

The men stopped at the bottom of the steps, then two went to one side of the stage to go up the stairs there, and the other one stayed where he was, looking like he was at parade rest.

The man who was the oldest of the three and looked to be the leader smiled at me and leaned over the microphone to speak. “We are here to offer you the chance to join with Gabriel.”

A muttering broke out in the audience as people spoke to each other about this unexpected turn of events. The man waited until it was quiet. I waited as well. As long as these people were polite, I wasn’t going to do anything that might upset their boss. After all, we weren’t that far from the Twin Cities.

Once it was quiet, the man spoke again. “Joining with Gabriel means that you will have some protection from the gangs that are roaming about the countryside. It means you will be part of our supply chain of goods. It means that, through Gabriel, you will have a voice to the rest of the world.”

Again he waited for quiet as the people of Catfish chewed this over.

“And, it means that you will be part of Gabriel’s team. A part of something great that the world has never seen.”

Okay, now he was starting to totally creep me out. I tapped him on the shoulder, asking, “Are we allowed to consider your offer?”

The man thought about this, and I wondered how much he was working from a script and how much he was making this up as he went along. “If you choose not to join us tonight, then we will request we have a representative from your town come and talk to Gabriel, so that you can understand the benefits of being part of something great.”

This guy was definitely just a mouthpiece. How many times were we going to hear the phrase, ‘part of something great’?

I spoke into the microphone, which had picked up the conversation between us pretty well anyway. “What do you want to do?” I knew what I wanted to do, but I wasn’t on such a power trip that I thought I could speak for the whole town.

Someone waved at me from the side of the auditorium, and I smiled when I recognized Tucker. I pointed to him, and he said in a loud sure voice, “We could vote.”

Something like annoyance ran across the leader’s face. I supposed that when you had a dictator as your boss you weren’t real keen on people voting whether they wanted to join him or not. Maybe that flicker of annoyance is what made me sure that voting was a good idea. “I think that sounds democratic,” I said without looking at the leader. “Do we need any more information before we vote?”

There were some more mutterings, but no one spoke up, so I said, “Okay. All in favor of joining Gabriel’s ‘team’ please say
Aye
.”

I was surprised, but there were quite a few
Ayes
.

I continued on. “All in favor of not joining Gabriel’s team—”

The leader of Team Gabriel leaned over to me and inserted, “At this time.”

I gave him a look but continued, “Please say
Nay
.”

The nays were definitely louder. I felt a wave of relief. The leader shook his head like we were stubborn children. “Who then will come and meet with Gabriel?” he asked. He turned to me. “Is it you?”

I opened my mouth to say something like, ‘Hell no!’ but was stopped by a spattering of applause that grew louder until nearly everyone was clapping. I wanted to kick the podium and stomp out, but knew I couldn’t do that. I spoke into the microphone and the clapping quieted. “If you want me to go, I will,” I said. The clapping resumed, louder this time. I looked over at the leader with a rather sardonic smile on my face. “I guess it is me.”

Leader Bob of the ‘We love Gabriel’ group wanted to go immediately, but I said absolutely not. I wanted to talk to my friends and get their take on this, and also I wanted to see Tucker and get his opinion, too. I had really missed him. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Bob wasn’t very happy about that, and said I could have an hour. I snorted and left, with the Gabriel trio following along like they were my bodyguards or captors—I’m not sure which. We drove back to the house, very conscious of the trio in the Scout behind us. I had given Tucker a big hug, as had Meri. Even Phil had smiled and patted his arm. Tucker filled us in on more details of his trip, and I was very disheartened to see that the breakdown of civility was happening everywhere. On the other hand, there were also inspiring acts of heroism and kindness. It was almost as though people were polarizing into ‘good’ and ‘bad.’ Was the purpose of society to keep everyone somewhat in the middle? The good people were funneled into acceptable, non-dangerous activities. They were also muted somewhat by the distance of society and just the size of the communities. Now that things were smaller and the needs greater, some people were really stepping up to the challenge.

As we got out of the car and went into the house, Tucker put his arm around my shoulders and said softly, “I need to talk to you alone.” I looked up at him, perplexed. His face looked a little sad but resigned. “I have debated with myself for days, and I’ve decided that I need to tell you what I know. This is one of those times when both options suck.”

As people trooped inside, Tucker and I slipped unnoticed into one of the bedrooms. As it turned out it was Tucker’s bedroom, which he now shared with two other guys. He looked around. “Oh, yeah,” I said, shrugging. “We are having everyone double and triple up. We have a lot of people living here.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, really. I just felt like getting everyone, or at least some people together. We have guards now and everything. We don’t leave the guns around for the kids, but just about everyone else is either armed or learning how to safely use a gun.” I smiled. “I’m a teacher on the gun front.”

He sighed. “I feel like I’ve been gone a lot longer than I actually was.”

I was still worried about what he wanted to tell me. “So Tucker? Why are we hiding in here?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes on mine. “Madde, I asked around a lot when I was up at the cabin, and also I looked around. As I told you, when I arrived there was no one at the cabin, but it had been shut down, not left as if there was a sudden exit. Things were put away, the door shut and locked.” He shrugged. “I had to break in a window.”

I waited.

“So I started to wonder about the things that happened to people. The largest percentage, I think, died in one way or another.”

I flinched and he saw it, taking my hand in his. “I didn’t see anything that would make me think they had either become violent there or violence had found them there in the cabin. Maybe they had been on their way back, though, so I can’t say for sure that something didn’t happen to them. I don’t think, though, that anything happened to them at the cabin.