Surge (91 page)

“Ollie Ollie oxen free,” Wally calls out.

“Number!” A voice shouts from somewhere up above.

“2562,” Wally responds. “Captain Walter Briggs and troop, with guests.”

“Charlies or Freds.”

“Charlies.”

I hear a click and something rotating before the metal doors creak open. As they swing wider, I see a handful of men on the other side, also in fatigues, with weapons strapped to their thighs or hung from their shoulders, all similar to how the four we just met are dressed.

One man with salt and pepper hair steps forward from the pack. He’s got more grey than brown in his hair, so he could be in either his fifties or forties; depending on if he’s prematurely grey. About 6’1 or 6’2” and around 200 pounds, he has a slight belly on him that most likely accumulated with age. He’s dressed basically the same as the others with his fatigues tucked into standard issue boots, but he has an air of authority about him that identifies him as the man in charge.

“I’m Commander Jack Morales, and welcome to Cross Lake. This is a refugee camp, and you are welcome to stay as long as you would like, so long as you don’t mind pitching in.” He glances at each person to see if there is any opposition to his rules, there aren’t, so he continues. “Before you’re free to move about and check out your new home, we ask that you submit to a mandatory exam. It’s for your safety as well as ours, so please help us make this go as smoothly as possible.” Morales looks at Wally. “Take them to the entry wing. Once their cleared, we’ll process them and set them up with jobs.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Wally says with a salute. Obviously, I won’t be using that in jest anymore. “Follow me.” Wally starts a forward march with his trio following first, and the group after.

“Welcome back Ollie,” Morales says as we pass by. He has a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, so it looks like even this stoic commander couldn’t resist the tiny girl’s charms.

“Thank you, sir,” she says with a polite bob of her head.

“Make sure you go see Ally when you’re through,” he says. “She’s been a pain in the ass ever since you ditched her.” Olivia grins.

“It’s because she’s a pain in my ass, is
why
I ditched her,” she replies.

The commander laughs as we continue on by. I look around to observe our new home as I follow the parade of newcomers. It’s fucking huge in here. There’s a giant building off to the left with a rounded roof, that I see people coming out with baskets. Another building off to the right, that’s slightly smaller than the first, has a flat roof, and a ton of windows that I can see through to reveal desks lined up in rows with kids seated in them. Obviously that’s a school. What they teach remains to be seen, but maybe Mike could finally get some students to shove math down the throats of.

Scattered throughout are small cabins with short fences making a square around them to mark their territory. People are dressed in casual clothing, as well as fatigues. Most are hanging laundry on lines, or tending to gardens out front or in the side yards, while younger children are running around on the small playground. Everyone looks well fed and clothed, and dare I say happy? This is the most normal thing I’ve seen in almost two years, and it makes me smile that we found it. Then I lose my smile when I remember the reason that we found it all.

Another building is straight ahead, and it says
‘Infirmary
,’ so it looks like they have a decent sized hospital. I’m guessing that Akio will wind up there at some point. It’s also where we’re headed since it looks to be the only thing that’s left before the back fence. It’s confirmed when Wally leads us around to a side door and lifts a little hatch. Revealed is a keypad, which he types a number into and the door pops open. Lo and behold, we have electricity. I feel like jumping up and down like a kid in a candy store, but I keep it in check. John? Not so much.

“You have electrici-fucking-ty!” John exclaims.

“Yeah,” Wally answers with a shrug.

“Don’t you shrug, this is fucking huge!” John shouts.

“Must you scream in my ear?” Cory asks.

“Cory, do you not understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?” John shouts every word at him. “They have electrici-fucking-ty!”

“Yeah, I heard you alright,” Cory replies with a scowl as he rubs his ear. “I think the whole fucking compound heard you.”

“I take it you didn’t have any where you were last staying,” Ace says.

“Well, not the
last
place we stayed,” John answers. “But we haven’t really used it in two years.”

“Damn, you people suck,” Patsy comments.

“Hey!” John protests.

“What?” Patsy asks. “You couldn’t figure out how to hotwire a car battery to power a simple light bulb? That’s science fair shit.”

“Um, no,” Carlos says.

“We didn’t learn that in the academy,” Oscar adds.

“Ah, so we have a couple of a lawmen,” Webby says and the twins nod. “We could use a couple of you.”

“Why?” Oscar asks with his cop face.

“You got a high crime rate in this joint?” Carlos inquires with an expression identical to his twin.

“If you call squabbles over eggs a high crime rate, then yes,” Webby replies.

The twins look like they were just told they couldn’t play at the playground. We can, right? If not, I’ll be hitting the swings after dark and sprint away when I see the blue and reds come swooping in. Actually, if the twins are the popo, I’ll just say I know a cop and keep on swinging. I’m pulled out of my daydream where I’ve selfishly taken over the swing set king of the mountain style, and was ignoring the a crowd of kids that were glaring at me like they were the
Children of the Corn
, by the escalating bickering match between Patsy and John. They’re still going on about how un-resourceful we were, until Olivia interrupts.

“Patsy, leave these people alone before I tell them how you got your name,” Olivia warns.

“Come on, Ollie,” he says with a pleading look at her. “I’m just curious. I mean, how many survivors does it take to screw a light bulb into a potato?”

“Do not pull out the blonde jokes, you ginger balled, foot licker,” Ace says.

“I am not a foot licker,” Patsy denies.

“Um, correct me if I’m wrong,” Olivia begins. “But I think I recall waking up to a freckle faced freak lapping my toes like a puppy.”

“It was one time,” he says. “I had a little too much to drink, and they were so damn cute, that I had to take a taste.”

“How’s the nose, by the way?” Olivia asks.

“It’s s’okay,” Patsy replies. “Habish said it wasn’t even broken, so I’m still my pretty self.” He batts his ginger lashes at Olivia.

“Patsy, you’re the damn ugliest son of a bitch this side of the border,” Ace says.

“Says the guy who fucked Bertha,” Patsy counters before looking at Whit and Sarah. “Pardon my French ladies.”

“I thought we agreed to never talk about that,” Ace hisses.

“Nah, we’re talking ‘bout it,” Patsy replies.

“Not right now we aren’t,” Wally interrupts. “We’ve wasted enough time, now let’s get them inside, and maybe you can bicker about this on our rounds if you can behave.”

“Yes, Wally,” the chorus.

Wally leads us all inside and down a long, sterile white hallway. The lights flicker brighter when you walk near them, so I’m guessing it’s to conserve energy, even though it’s making me dizzy as hell. I feel like a freaking lab rat chasing the cheese with all the twists and turns we’re taking, but we finally come to a room with an appointed guard. He salutes Wally before keying in numbers on the door for us to enter. It’s a sterile room with white on white, with metal chairs along the opposite walls and a table with two more guards, armed with weapons.

“Webby, you know the drill,” Wally says. Webby nods and turns to us.

“Alright, as a safety precaution to all involved, we ask that you to turn over all weapons at this point in time. This includes lighters, knives, guns, sharp objects of any kind, and all blunt force instruments,” Webby announces. “Also leave all personal items here, they will all be returned to you, but it makes the processing move along smoothly without you all lugging suitcases, duffels or backpacks.”

“And the weapons?” Mike asks.

“Depending on your status, they might be returned to you,” Webby answers.

“So, you’re saying that you’ll confiscate our stuff?” John asks.

“Guys, you’re gonna be fine,” Olivia says.

“Coming from the girl who stabbed four people her first day here,” Patsy remarks dryly.

“Spider,” Olivia says and Patsy shuts his mouth. “Besides, I only nicked them. And Habish only got like twelve stitches.”

“More like thirty,” Webby mutters and laughs when Olivia kicks his shin. “Easy, Ollie, I need to do my rounds later, and I can’t do my job when I have two busted shins. Melly already got me today.” Olivia grins at that. “You and I are going toe to toe later, but for now, get these people to give up the goods.”

“Hand your shit over,” Olivia demands.

“I coulda done that,” Webby says. “You sound like a damn pirate.” Olivia sticks his tongue out at him. “Don’t flash me that tongue, babe, unless you plan to use it.” Olivia flips him off, but he grins in response. Then he looks at the group and flashes them a reassuring smile. “
Please
hand your shit over.”

As if that’s any better, you flirtatious prick, but I do as I’m told, as do the others. I feel like I’m naked as I unhook my knife holster from my thigh, my gun holder from my shoulder, my spare handgun from the back of my pants, the cross bow Olivia gave me from the opposite shoulder, and finally my back pack. These fucks better not rob me of my shit, or it’s on like mother fucking Donkey Kong.

“Alright, males to the left and females to the right,” Wally orders as the last of our group places their items on the table.

The guards at the table separate it into piles, personal items to the left, weapons on the right. One of the dudes is eyeing my ginsu knives as if they’re prime for the taking, again, these assholes better not fuck with my shit or else I’ll be going ape shit in this mother fucker. And no, you don’t need to be going King Kong to rip a place up when you have rage, misery, and jealousy on your side.

Yes, I have all three because I’m a selfish prick, and even though I know I threw her away, I didn’t want to do it. I had to, because it was the right thing. So, I don’t like all these dudes touching or flirting with her. I don’t give a fuck about Olivia allowing it, meaning that she’s comfortable around these bastards; I’m not comfortable with it. These dudes are deranged anyway, I mean, licking feet? Who the fuck licks someone’s feet without at least asking permission first?

Shut up, it was one freaking time and I found that I have a slight foot fetish. This reminds of how very cute Olivia’s toes are, and how I didn’t get to lick them. I want to throw myself down on the floor and pound my fists on the linoleum floor in a temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums, but I’m pretty sure that they wouldn’t clear me fit for duty if I did, so I take my seat on the left.

The group splits in two with Whitney, Sarah and Olivia sitting opposite the rest of us. Sarah looks a little freaked, Whitney looks curious, if a little apprehensive, and Olivia looks bored. I’m guessing that’s she’s used to this whole process by now, but I do see her still try and comfort Sarah even though I’m a dick. She holds my baby sister’s hand and tells her it’s all going to be fine, to which Sarah nods and gains a little bit of color in her cheeks.

“After your exams, you’ll be sent down for processing,” Wally announces. “You’ll get your job placements there and your assigned cabins numbers. Good luck.” Wally looks at Olivia. “We’ll see you at dinner.” Olivia nods and they turn to leave, until she calls out for Webby to wait.

“Can you take him for me?” Olivia asks as she holds out Morris’s carrier. “I’ll come get him after, but you know how head bitch is about useless beasts.”

“Yeah, I’ll babysit the little critter,” Webby replies as he takes the mesh bag. “Sammy will probably like the playmate.”

“Thanks Webs,” she says. “I’ll come get him as soon as I get outta here.”

“Don’t mention it,” Webby says. “See you at dinner.” Olivia nods, so Wally, Webby, Patsy and Ace take their leave, but I don’t watch their goodbyes because the first knuckle kiss made me see red.

It’s a few minutes of waiting silently, well I’m silent since no one speaks to me, but the men are called into a room first. I glance over at Sarah to make sure she’s alright, which she is since Olivia’s right there and I know that Olivia wouldn’t be calm if it wasn’t safe here, before heading inside with the rest of them. There are curtains sectioning off exam tables, so a woman in scrubs leads me to one of the cordoned off areas and passes me a gownie before stepping out. I grimace at the piece of tissue paper, but strip as ordered.

No reason to get kicked out just because I don’t like the scratchy fabric or freezing my ass on the metal prep table. Sure, it has a piece of paper on it for sterilization, but it’s still a sheet of fucking paper that offers not warmth whatsoever. I wish I could wear my coat at least, but I have that shoved in the bottom of my backpack, where it’s been since I’m a fuckhead and fought with Olivia. But I’m selfish and wanted to have a token for after she left, like the whistle she gave me, which is still around my neck and will remain there.

I see feet and a shadow at my curtain before a male voice, so I get out of my head before I start having a pity party for myself.

“Are you decent?”

“Yes,” I answer and the curtain parts for a doctor to slip through. He’s in his later thirties, of Middle Eastern heritage and has a pair of reading glasses set low over his nose as he glances at his chart. He’s wearing blue scrub pants, but a lab coat, so I take it that he’s the doctor.

“Name?”

“It’s Jared Benson, and you are?”

“Sorry,” he says and looks up. “Tend to forget introductions when dealing with so many at once.”

He holds his blue gloved hand out to me, which does not remind of Olivia one bit, nuh-uh, no way. John’s father always said that you could tell a lot about a man from their hand shake, if it’s weak, he’s either an untrustworthy, pathological liar who’ll smile as he stabs you in the back, or he’s a coward. If his grip is too strong, he thinks he’s above you and he’s trying to show dominance, or he’s intimidated and trying to pull rank. And if it’s firm, but not break your fingers strong, he’s alright. This doctor’s grip is firm without trying to be a douche, so I’ll give him the okay for now.