Authors: Meira Pentermann
When they arrived at the Woods’ homestead, an eclectic arrangement greeted their eyes. Goats and chickens wandered in pens. A large tent made out of translucent plastic stood in a patch of sunlight. It appeared to be a greenhouse. Leonard surmised that the trees had been cleared to give the greenhouse just enough sunlight to support a modest vegetable garden. Babbling gently, a substantial stream ran through the property about one hundred yards from the Woods’ cabin. Their home was a small house patched up with new trees and the remnants of blasted buildings.
A black lab ran to welcome the travelers after their engines settled into silence. His tail wagging enthusiastically, the dog ran in circles and barked happily.
“Hey, Hayek,” Aiden called and the lab ran over and licked the teenager’s hand.
Aiden led Leonard and Natalia to a bathroom in the cabin, which contained a water pump, several buckets, and a tiled washing area.
“If you need to use the other facilities, they are out back.”
Leonard expected Natalia to cringe at the thought of using an outhouse, so he was surprised to see a pleasant expression on her face.
Aiden opened a small cupboard and pointed at a stack of green towels. “Here are the towels. I will heat some water for you,” he said, addressing Natalia.
“I can use cold,” Leonard offered, as if anyone cared.
“And I may have clean sweats,” the boy added. “They will be a little big for you, but you can roll them up.
Leonard slipped into the bathroom, closed the door, and dropped a hook into an eye on the wall; thus providing a thin layer of privacy. He filled a bucket with water and splashed it on his face. The cold liquid stimulated his senses and he proceeded to wash his neck and arms. He didn’t realize how filthy he had become over the previous forty-eight hours.
After Leonard and Natalia cleaned up, the four of them gathered around the Woods’ rough, wooden dining table. Natalia, decked in a navy blue sweat suit, with sleeves rolled back and pant legs folded under, sat next to Aiden. Chester settled in at the head of the table and Leonard took a seat directly across from his daughter.
Each place was set with a mismatched array of plates and silverware as well as tall glasses of water. In the middle of the table, a variety of items — including vegetables, flatbread, and some kind of jerky — awaited the visitors.
“Dig in,” Chester said. Famished, as well as reluctant to disobey their commanding host, Leonard reached for the jerky.
The meat tasted gamey, unlike anything Leonard had ever tried before. He thought it best not to inquire about the origin of the jerky. Such knowledge might actually kill his appetite and he needed to regain his strength. Raccoon, coyote, squirrel — it really didn’t matter. Natalia, on the other hand, appeared to be struggling. She regarded the substance suspiciously, taking small bites with ample sips of water. Nevertheless, the flatbread tasted fresh and the Tramers consumed it with gusto.
Aiden nibbled sporadically, glancing up every once and a while to watch Natalia. Leonard kept one eye on him but said nothing. Chester appeared oblivious.
Eventually, Natalia noticed Aiden’s unabashed gawking, and she asked softly, “What are you looking at?”
The boy didn’t miss a beat. Grinning, he replied, “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t imagine you see many girls up here,” she bantered, but her playful intentions got lost in the sliver of space between them.
Aiden frowned, his blithe manner draining instantly. He narrowed his eyes and spoke firmly with a voice that aged by years within the breadth of a second. “I had a life before all of this. We lost my mother in the Raze.” He faltered. “I know a thing or two about the world, little girl.”
Natalia blanched and was unable to speak. After a long pause, she offered a meek apology. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
It occurred to Leonard that Natalia might never see her own mother again. Still, she could cling to the hope that they might one day be reunited.
Aiden touched her lightly on the arm. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
Recognizing that now was as good a time as any, Leonard dove in, posing the question he’d been dying to ask since they descended into the valley.
“What happened here?”
Chester wiped the corner of his lip with the edge of his hand and stared at Leonard. Chewing slowly, he finished a large bite of jerky, swallowed, and placed his hands on the table.
“What happened here?” the man repeated coldly. “If only more people knew.”
Sensing it was best to remain quiet, Leonard waited patiently.
“What happened in this valley should be drilled into the heads of every middle grade student in the country. But the Department of Education will ensure that not a scrap of information related to the Raze ever finds its way into the public schools.”
“I’d like to hear about it,” Natalia said.
Chester regarded her with a hint of admiration. He nodded. Gazing into the distance, Chester spoke clearly. “People began to migrate to the Silverthorne-Breckenridge area shortly after the Twenty-Eighth Amendment passed.”
“Which one was the Twenty-Eighth again?” Leonard interrupted.
Chester immediately focused on Leonard. Contempt tainted his face. “You know, if people paid attention in the first place, we might have avoided a lot of suffering.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“The Twenty-Eighth changed the minimum age for elected officials. Representatives from twenty-five to twenty. Senators from thirty to twenty-five. And president…” He sighed. “…from thirty-five to thirty.”
Leonard’s brain juggled this new information.
Why bother?
“Do you even understand this?”
“Uh…” Leonard stammered. Words from one of Stehlen’s documentaries floated through his mind.
In the current crisis, I say the younger the better.
“So, uh, Stehlen could be elected president, of course.” He smiled triumphantly.
Chester put his head in one hand. When he looked up an expression of outrage dominated his features. “He was already president when we found out, Leonard. He descended upon the country like a political blitzkrieg, coming out of nowhere. He ran for the House of Representatives when he was twenty. The senate when he was twenty-five. And when he was sworn in as president, he was biologically thirty-and-a-half years old.”
“How is that possible?”
“He forged a counterfeit identity after he graduated high school. Gave himself a new name and a college degree in Political Science.”
Leonard listened attentively, afraid to speak.
“I can’t believe you don’t know this!” he shouted, pounding one fist on the table. “My God. Millions of people across the country imprisoned or killed by the Feds, and you just missed all of this corruption as it unfolded?”
Leonard looked down.
The bearded man sighed and turned to Natalia. “So in the beginning, people moved out here hoping to put some distance between themselves and all the things going on in the city. Housing reassignments, nationalization of banks and mortgages. We started a barter system as the federal government began taking over corporations and killing off small businesses. I guess news of our efforts reached Metro Denver. Another wave of settlers arrived when the Feds began drastically changing the public school curriculum.”
“The schools around here were not DEPS schools?” Natalia asked.
“Well, they were, but the Youth Brigade and the radical new ideology were established in the major cities first. The DOE knew that everyone would end up in the cities eventually. I don’t think the Feds wanted to bother reeducating all the rural teachers.”
“Oh.”
“Then, of course, they started confiscating computers. That motivated folks who were still
waiting to see.
By the time the Wall went up, it was too late. No one could move without permission from the Department of Housing and Relocation.”
“Why didn’t people protest?” Leonard asked quietly.
“Look who’s talking. Mister Informed.”
“The people who were paying attention,” Leonard said, “why didn’t they protest?”
“Protesters quickly learned that speaking out led to rather severe consequences. Having their businesses confiscated in less than twenty-four hours, records and inventory destroyed. Premises desecrated. Some people received atrocious housing assignments. Or worse, they were sent to prison on questionable charges,” he said bitterly. Then his face softened. “All too often, the threats were directed at the dissenter’s loved ones. Heroes are willing to go to prison for a cause, but threats aimed at family and friends are quite another burden to bear.”
Leonard bit his lip. Another wave of shame engulfed him.
“Of course, after Stehlen called the National Emergency, the Feds rounded people up with relative ease.” Chester allowed the words to trail away.
“And new people came to Denver,” Natalia said. “When I was in elementary school, lots of new kids arrived from all around the state.”
Chester returned his attention to Natalia. “The CARS scam enabled the Feds to flush out folks living in small cities across the nation. Busloads, trainloads, boatloads — however they could bring them into the nearest major city. Colorado has only one central location. Metro Denver.”
Leonard digested the information quickly, hoping not to divulge his fascination. Government housing, mass relocations, and multiple gates and walls. In spite of his revulsion, he found the magnitude of the project impressive.
“When they posted the schedule of evacuations, they intended to do this area, Summit County, last,” he explained to Natalia. Then he turned abruptly to Leonard and snapped, “Did you pay attention to any of this at the time?”
Leonard shrugged. It was futile to pretend he had a clue. If he feigned any knowledge, Chester might well quiz him, and Leonard was not particularly interested in seeing the muzzle of the shotgun again.
“I thought not,” Chester mumbled. “The front range was first. Then Eastern Colorado. Finally, starting at Grand Junction, they moved east across the Rockies, like a bulldozer rolling through a landfill. People who did not wish to board the train fled here. By the time the Feds closed the border, we had over one hundred thousand people living in Summit County. Doubled and tripled up in condos, living in tented shelters wherever they could find room.”
“So they initially cleared Grand Junction?”
“Yes, but after a couple of months, counterrevolutionaries migrated back, especially the engineers and computer techs. Someone alerted us to the tracking system, and a team of techs and doctors set up MRI stations all over Summit County. Ex-military folks smuggled weapons in before moving on to Grand Junction. They intended to create a more secure and technologically advanced community in Mesa County. Clearly, we did not have enough room for everyone to stay in these valleys, and we knew the evacuation project would make its way here eventually.
“Some people actually believed it would all pass. They wanted to wait it out. We were in the last year of Stehlen’s second term.” He sighed. “Then, of course, the Twenty-Ninth Amendment was proposed and rammed down our throats.”
This one Leonard remembered. “Repeal of term limits.”
Chester shook his head disapprovingly, as if this one snippet of knowledge did not excuse the plethora of things Leonard did not know.
“But when did
that
happen?” Leonard gestured toward the charred ruins, painfully aware of the devastation that lingered miles beyond the walls of the Woods’ cabin.
“Almost four years ago, a few weeks before our scheduled evacuation date in December.” He examined his hands, scowling. “Thousands of us made some noise about staying put.”
“So you
did
protest.”
“Right before the end.” The lines on Chester’s face seemed more pronounced than they had only a moment before, and a sense of deep remorse befouled the air. He paused for quite some time before resuming. “The Feds caught us completely unaware, a hundred thousand people living their lives and minding their own business. We were sitting ducks.
“They came in helicopters and fighter jets, dropping bombs without so much as a warning. If it weren’t for the reservoir, I have no doubt they would have launched a small nuclear warhead. Would have saved them time. Nevertheless, within an hour, they nearly obliterated the area. People were either dead, running through the streets, or hiding in the sewers.”
Leonard glanced at Natalia. She trembled. Aiden put an arm around her shoulder.
“Then they landed. Helicopter after helicopter delivering soldiers. They gunned down anything that moved and destroyed what few buildings remained standing.”
“How did you escape?”
“A small group of us made our way to the sewer system. Aiden and I were among them.” Chester put his head in his hand. “I watched —
watched
— from a drain at the side of the road. Even with the bombs dropping, I could not pull myself away. What kind of man—?”
“You had to protect your son.”
Chester continued as if Leonard were not present. “People screaming and I just stood there. A coward. I used to be in the Air Force. Can you believe it? I should have fought.”
“With what? Did you happen to have rocket launchers in your home?”
“I do now,” he said matter-of-factly.
Leonard had no response to this new piece of data.
Chester closed his eyes. “I didn’t even look for Caroline…my wife. She was at work in Frisco when the bombs hit. Aiden and I were hanging out by the marina.” He cleared his throat. “So instead of going to save her, I went underground with Aiden.”
“You would have all been killed otherwise.”
“When I saw the soldiers landing, I led a few dozen people deep into the sewers. The Feds never looked down there if you can believe it. We were hiding for days. Drank water from drainage areas that I prayed were clean enough.”
“Obviously we lived,” Aiden whispered.
“Later, we heard that the soldiers gathered up the remaining survivors and executed them Che-Guevara-style. Great celebration over dead center hits to the forehead. They put others on the ski lifts in Breckenridge. Picked ’em off one at a time. Used them as sniper practice. We found piles of bodies at the foot of the ski slopes.”