The War Game (8 page)

             
John and I started to head back to the front gates of the golf course when pieces of the past day’s events started to come together. Those particular bones I saw had no flesh on them. According to my anatomy book, a lot of factors are involved with the length of time it takes for a body to decompose. The elements, bugs, how well the body is buried, and so on. That body we found had been buried for seven days, give or take a day. It takes at least twenty to fifty days, if not much, much longer, for a body to fully decompose so that just the bones and maybe the hair is left. I couldn’t double-check my facts because the damn book was stolen but I knew my hunch was rightthese bones were picked clean like a chicken wing.

             
Fuck.

             
And now, at this very moment in this very spot, the Nomads outnumbered us.

             
The man turned and looks at me, practically salivating, “We have extra room back at our neck of the woods. We can certainly squeeze in a couple more bodies.”

             
I started to back away and so did John. He had no idea yet, but still. On a good day, who would want to sleep next to someone who smelled like that?

             
They were all looking at us now. “No, thank you,” I managed to say rather calmly. “We have other plans.”

             
The Nomad smiled, “Well, please let the others know of our offer.” Even if I hadn’t discovered their secret, it would have been just as creepy. Having a toothless, dirty man act so cordially is just odd.

             
“Sure thing,” John lied.

             
As soon as we were out of their sight, I ran and John followed suit. “Why are you running?” he yelled. “Are you gonna get sick?”

             
I felt nauseous indeed but I don’t think I was going to vomit. Luckily, the shock of it all was a bit stronger than my queasiness.  We came to a safe spot, by the games where people could toss rings onto the tops of bottles and win stuffed animals. I don’t quite understand why people would want stuffed animals. Animals are for eating. I don’t care to have a toy that looked like a potato, why would I want one of a rabbit?

             
I had to sit and catch my breath. I had never run so hard in my life, but John was fine. He wasn’t gasping or choking for air like I was.

             
I really wanted some water but I had to tell John first. “I think...that they’re...cannibals.”

             
John didn’t seem to have taken it all in, so I told him about what my book said and the connections I made.

             
Then he started freaking out. “Who the hell eats their own kind? I’ve gone for days without much water, longer without food. I’ve been aboard buses filled with sweaty morons and puking children but I would never kill anyone who’s innocent!”

             
“John, I’m so scared! What if they come back for us?”

             
“I won’t let them.” John started walking around, trying to think of what to do. I was doing the same. Although, I wasn’t thinking of a plan. I was trying to go through the alphabet in my head. One thing I remember from school. “A” would be for “apple”, “b” would be for “ball”, and so on. But when I got to “C” and “D”, the only words that came to mind were “cannibal” and “death.”

             
“We need to get to higher ground. Did you see how weak those people are? Three of them together couldn’t lift up a box of that food without taking a break every ten feet. They may not be able to run after us, but we can’t take chances when we’re sleeping. They could have guns or some weapons on them. Let’s go pack up some of those Pop-ups, fill some bottles with water, and climb to that stuck cart on top of Something Wicked. Then we can”

             
“Hold up!” I screamed. He stopped talking. “What? Climb to top of Something Wicked?” I asked. That couldn’t possibly be what he said.

             
“Yeah, it’s high enough,” he shrugged, like it was a normal thing to do.

             
I was mortified, he couldn’t be serious. This had better be a bad joke.

~~~

             
There we were, it was now dark. I was in front of him and he was behind me. He said he would break my fall if I were to, you know, fall.

             
Hand over hand. Don’t look down, he told me. But I did. Several times. And each time I felt like I was going to faint. I told him so and he said he would give me a moment to “gather my strength” like it was just right out in front of me, waiting to be grabbed.

             
The actual climbing probably wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t dark and if we weren’t carrying extra pounds of stuff like food, water, and so on.

             
“I don’t think we thought this through enough,” I said, a bit too late. “For example, where are we going to pee? How long can we actually stay up here? What do we do when we run out of water?”

             
“Don’t worry about that. I can always climb back down to get us some more.”

             
We finally made it to the car, although he had to pull me in because I had no discernible muscles in my arms, despite what my book tried to tell me. Now that I was up, I didn’t know if I was capable of going back down.

             
We sat in the front two seats and deposited our stuff in the back of the lime-green car. There were three cars attached to ours with four seats in each of them, so that made a total of sixteen seats for our living space. I guessed I had lived in places smaller than that.

             
I sat down and almost immediately put the seat belt on. The car wasn’t going anywhere soon but I didn’t want to take chances.

             
John looked at me. “You know, if the car falls off the track, you won’t be able to easily jump out of it.”

             
“Yes, thank you for that. I feel much better now,” I said sarcastically. And a little mean-spirited, I must admit.

             
“Are you mad at me?”

             
“No, just scared.”

             
“Hey, come here,” he turned, leaned his face right next to me and kissed me. I found myself kissing him back without doing much thinking.

             
We spent the rest of the night talking, joking, and kissing. We would get on some sort of tangent and when there would be a small lull in the conversation, we would suddenly remember that we could just kiss each other again.

             
We looked at the stars and tried to remember their names but couldn’t. So we made some up. I’m glad to say I gave those burning red balls of gas some pretty names such as Chloe. I also named a cluster of stars Chandelier. John gave them dumb names like Gassy.

             
I asked him if he liked me but he said he would have to think about it. And he smiled. But I don’t know what that means.  

~~~

             
We slept during the day, on the bottom floor of the cars since we didn’t want to risk anyone seeing us up there. Not that many people would care to climb and join us on Something Wicked.

             
I woke up and I couldn’t uncurl my back or else I was afraid it would hurt even worse. John gave me a back rub and while it didn’t help much, I pretended it did.

             
I told him about Canada and my plan to escape there, too. Somehow.

             
He said that that was his plan as well and we should take a road trip there. Can’t imagine what roadside attractions we would see along the way. I’d think we’d see more bullet holes than anything else.

             
I didn’t have to start worrying about the having to pee situation because the following morning the last meal was served. Again.

             
The helicopter flying over on the coaster was our wake-up call. It went right over our heads, they could have seen us if they had thought anyone crazy enough to hide out in a roller coaster like that. It dropped the packages closer to the theater.

             
The bombs would be following soon. We scrambled, we took only about half of what we brought. We hung like monkeys on the poles, carefully maneuvering around each segment of the track. We finally came close enough to the ground where we could let go without seriously injuring ourselves.

             
Since the bombs were closing in on the park, most likely the guards that occasionally walk around the perimeter might be busy with the helicopters. Or at least, that’s what John and I were betting on.

             
The gates weren’t that high but they were decorated with barbed wire. We didn’t care, we would feel the stings on our hands and legs later.

             
John climbed over the fence with ease, like he’d done it a dozen times before. I impressed myself actually, but I knew I was still slowing him down. He opened his arms as I jumped and caught me.

             
Then a swarm of helicopters flew over our heads. We watched them swirling around in the air for what seemed an eternity, then we ran. We ran across the highway and came to some abandoned business buildings.

             
We heard explosions and felt the ground shake underneath our feet. We looked for a good place to hide until the chaos settled down.

             
Instead we found some soldiers with big guns and a fleet of school buses.

~~~

             
They handcuffed us and we boarded the bus. We sat together in the first row.

             
“Think you could outsmart us, hiding up in a roller coaster?” the man with the lop-sided face sneered.

             
Then a bus driver and another soldier stepped on. I don’t know if I have ever seen this one before, they all start to look alike after a while. Unless they’re missing an arm or have a lopsided face. He sat next from us, with his gun pointing at us the entire time. I didn’t think this soldier had it in him to shoot us but I wouldn’t doubt his nervous fingers might unlock the trigger.

             
The newer soldiers are always the nervous ones. And usually the traitors. But eventually, once they feel power, they’ll learn to crave it. Demand it.

             
I stared out the window since I hated looking at the ugly, greasy soldiers. John sat on the edge of his seat, like he was ready to be my bullet vest. I would tell him not to bother, but I didn’t want to say anything since a soldier has his way of turning around whatever you say, even if you ask for water.

             
Nothing was said to us except, “If you don’t play by the rules then you move back a space. You’re lucky you didn’t lose a turn.”

             
The ride must have taken about half an hour. I saw no other cars out on the road, if you don’t count the fleet of buses that were trailing behind us.

             
The bus stopped in front of the university, the same one I was at.

             
The hole that demolished the front door of the building I was in had been rebuilt. Weird. And there was a new hole in the building next to it. The only ones who could have rebuilt it would have to be the soldiers. Unless they pointed the guns and made the prisoners do their work for them.

             
I guessed they had to set up the pieces before they could play.

             
We waited for what seemed to be forever. We scooted as close to the window as people were being shuffled into the bus as soon as the handcuffs came off of them. They got dust and ash and blood on us. We wiped it back onto the bus. The soldier was too busy ushering in the new folks to notice. One guy, probably not even thirty yet, looked particularly demolished. I think he was trying to cough the dust and blood from out of his mouth but all that came out was this gurgling, rattling noise. He looked too tired to lean over and spit out whatever it was in his mouth.

             
Lop-sided guy went down the aisle counting people. Again, no one talked. Unless you count the occasional puking as talking. He announced to the bus driver, “Eighty-eight,” and then we waited some more.

             
“Eighty-seven,” John whispered underneath his breath. The guy had stopped gurgling.

CAMP M

             
This camp already had a bunch of people in it. Bunch of coughing, mucus-spewing, dry-heaving, sick people.