The Beginning at the End of the World: A Post-Apocalyptic, Dystopian Series (The Survivor Diaries Book 2) (4 page)

“Thank you, Holly.” I was relieved to have at least one voice of support. “And don’t worry, I will. We need to create new bios on everyone, so after this meeting we will have you all fill out new paper work. I will be the one to reassign your work with the exception of the security team. That will be handled by Bri. Don’t be surprised if you have new…”

This time Cory
Forsyth
, one of the ex-military now on security, interrupted. “How come she has so much responsibility? Most of
your
Council is made up
your
family and friends. It’s like none of us even have a chance around here. I am sick of this shit.”

“I will make sure that you have more responsibility, Mr. Forsyth,” I said, trying to remain calm under fire. “As I was saying, don’t be surprised if you have new assignments and
responsibilities
.

“We have lost many of the people who made this place run. If you want it to continue running, I expect your cooperation. I am offering the same deal as I did when we first came together as a community. If you want to partake in our food and water, you work. If not, go.”

I waited, my eyes shifting from one face to the other, daring someone to come forward to say that they didn’t want to work. No one did,
this time.

∞

Bri and I returned to my desk behind the curtain, and this time Ammie joined us.

“You know, I remember my dance recitals in this place,” she said. My body filled with peacefulness as I thought back on those days. I would do anything to go backward, but since that was not a possibility, I moved forward.

“Bri, I am assigning Cory Forsyth as lead team member on portable-potty duty,” I told her.

“Great,” she said. “He’s going to freak out on me even more now.”

“If he does, send him to me. He’s not on security anymore,” I said. “I have the feeling that he is too much of a hot-head to be carrying a gun around. And tell Jackson to collect that weapon from him.”

“But he was just expressing his feelings,” said Ammie. “Doesn’t he have that right?”

“Of course he does,” I tried to explain. “But he has proven his anger management problems on other occasions, too. We can’t have him running around with a gun. People have a different take on life and death since the Last War. I will have him checked by Katie before we pull his gun, okay?”

“Okay,” said Ammie. “That sounds fair.”

“So, Ambo, how is the medical life treating you?” I changed topics.

“It’s alright. Hard, though,” said Ammie. “I have been studying the respiratory system and how bio-chemicals have affected all of our bodies. It’s interesting, but I like my work with Thomas better. He is a brilliant engineer, and I think that some of his ideas will revolutionize this place. He is working on a system of multiple wind turbines that can be used to heat all of the houses here.”

“Do you think that we should add him to the council, Amanda?” I asked.

I could see her puff with pride at being asked her opinion. “Yes, I do. We need to get started on all of his projects soon. Our lives will be much better when we do.”

I think my niece is smitten with a much older man.
Hmm?

∞

Tonight I sat down with Mark in our bedroom. He didn’t seem ready to talk, but since I found out that he knew what I did in Carmel, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.

“So, I killed someone. Thoughts?” I know my sarcasm was not lost on him, but it just kind of slipped out like that.

He stood and paced the room for a moment. He stopped in front of me and swayed back and forth as he spoke; an old habit of his. “Some. I was in the army. I took lives. A man threatened my wife’s life, and I only wish I was there to do it for you. Laura, why wasn’t I there?”

“You know why,” I responded, trying to not become too emotional. “I left because I needed a few days away from our arguing. You gave me an ultimatum. You said that I couldn’t be alone with Jackson. You didn’t trust me, and I think that you still don’t. You know what the big irony is, Mark? It’s that you saved his life after the fire. You carried him all the way up the hill to get him away from the danger,” I said.

“He is a human being,” Mark said with resentment. “I believe that human life, now more than ever, is valuable. Even his.”

“Me, too,” I said. I was tired of arguing about the “Jackson” topic, and it had nothing to do with me killing that man. “Since the moment we heard his voice over the walkies, we knew he was someone who cares deeply about the survival of the Village. Mark, I can’t do my job if I am constantly looking over my shoulder waiting for your jealousy. Have I ever done anything to make you think that I am not faithful?”

“No,” he said.

We left the conversation at that. I don’t have much confidence that the truce will last, but we seem to have reached an understanding for the moment.

It has been snowing hard, on and off, for the last few days. Today is Halloween, and a very miserable Bailey has been moping around the house all day. We had intended on having a Halloween event at the Town Hall, but obviously that couldn’t happen now. Everyone was too sad and stressed out to make new plans.

Mrs. Ingram was able to remake our costumes, Ma and Laura Ingles dresses, that were lost in the fire. She had to sew them by hand because we also lost all of her sewing machines. Poor Mrs. Ingram. The house that we had moved her from, the one that she had lived in for forty-two years, burned to the ground. She lost most of the photos of her husband in that fire, and the rest when our house burned down. I am envious of how cheerful she remains in the face of so much loss. The good news is that Bailey’s mood changed this evening, and I have to admit that mine did, too
.

Bailey and I showed off our costumes in the living room with “oohs” and “ahhs” from Annie and Mrs. Ingram.

“Now, you two sit down on the sofa because I have a big surprise for you,” said Annie.

Bailey and I sat while Annie left the room. We giggled at how excited she was. Mrs. Ingram wore a look of satisfaction on her face.

Annie brought Bailey a paper sack, and she sat waiting expectantly as Annie addressed us.

“And now, without further ado, may I present
The Ghosts of Bad Halloween Costumes Past
?” she said in a low and official tone.

That’s when Jake, Adam, Ammie, Bri and Mark came through the double doors wearing the most ridiculous looking costumes ever.

Jake was wearing an old tutu I made for Ammie when she was little— on his head. He was carrying a bouquet of ugly, fake flowers and wearing a white “granny” nightgown over his clothes. I could only imagine he was supposed to be a bride.

Adam was wearing a sad Harry Potter costume with a lightning bolt drawn with an eyebrow pencil on his forehead and a black towel pinned to the back of his shirt like a cape.

Ammie starred as one of Santa’s elves, and Bri made for a very skinny Santa. They had obviously dived into the Christmas boxes when the Halloween costumes ran out.

Mark was the only one who actually had on a full costume; he was Superman. He must have found the outfit in one of the donation boxes in the ballroom. He ran through the room, letting his cape fly behind him, singing the theme from the old Batman TV show. None of us had the heart to tell the comical African man that he was singing the wrong tune. He was fabulous just the way he was.

I am not sure I can explain the skit that came next. It had a convoluted plot about how Harry Potter zapped them all to the North Pole, everyone except for Superman because of course he flew there. The bride may or may not have been marrying Superman, and that was all that I could follow.

It made Bailey laugh so hard she fell on the floor snorting. That was all I needed. She was as happy as I had ever seen her.

Following the evening’s entertainment, Bailey went from character to character saying “trick or treat” and holding up her paper sack for her rewards. Ammie threw in some plastic Mardi Gras beads, while Bri gave her a “Go National Guard” cap. Adam was the only one to give her candy; a snickers bar, her favorite. He said that he zapped it in all the way from Hogwarts, but I am sure that he had been saving it from one of his runs. Mark’s gift was touching. It was the American flag that he got when he came home from the Iraq War. It was in a beautiful triangle frame with his name engraved on a little metal plate on the front.

I turned my head so no one could see my tears. My family loves that little girl as much as I do. Like it or not, she is now a Balous-Patton. And I do think she likes it.

“Laura, when we have school again, can I wear my costume?” she asked while I was tucking her into bed.

“Sure thing, sweet girl,” I told her.

This was the best Halloween I have ever had.

The dark sky has dumped around three more feet of snow.

I was worried about sending out Adam and the other Out-bounders, but we were running dangerously low on food supplies. They have been trying to go through the snowy debris of where homes used to stand. I asked Adam to stay as close to the Village as possible, but I can’t imagine there is much that we and the other scavengers haven’t picked through yet around here.

There have also been more rumors about a group of over 100 Wanderers. Their numbers are now closing in on our population counts, that is, if they do exist. Jackson says that they are probably out there watching us and keeping tabs. He’s one paranoid SOB.

Jackson, Mark, and I sat in my dreary office.

“So, why don’t you go and do secret ops defensives, or whatever it is you do?” I mocked.

“As much as I wish he was wrong, we really need to make a decision on what to do. The way I see it is that we have two choices; we stay or we run,” said Mark.

“It’s not running,” said Jackson, irritated. “It’s about finding the most strategic and the safest place to settle the Village.”

I could tell that Mark’s temper was about to steam over. He didn’t like agreeing with the Colonel in the first place, but when Jackson became argumentative, Mark became indignant. “Is it because when you say ‘strategic,’ you mean ‘strategic for battle’ not ‘strategic for supplies, our own belongings, and the hospital’?”

Those were all good points, especially the hospital. As far as I could recall, there was only a small clinic in the Valley where an old country doctor had his practice. Who knows if it’s even still there?

I used to go to Carmel Valley when I was a teenager. At the time, it had the only public pool for miles. It was a long ride out there, but my friends would pick me up, and we would make the drive together, giggling about boys the whole way. It was worth it in the summer. Monterey’s summers used to be in the fifty to sixty degree range before the Last War. The Valley would get into the ninety degree range, and my friends would get killer tans - and I would get killer sun burns - but those were such wonderful, carefree days.

I wonder what the weather is going to be like in the Valley this summer.

∞

I got a call from Jackson on our emergency walkie. I now had three separate walkies, each with its own purpose, besides being my own personal lojacks. I knew that if a call came on the emergency walkie it was about something big, but that the whole Village should not be alerted.

I ran out of the ballroom to the next street over, where I had been summoned. The day was bright and the glare of the snow burned my eyes. When I blinked away my blindness, I saw Cory on the snowy ground with Jackson standing over him trying to get zip-ties over his wrists as he wriggled around in the snow, trying to get away.

I ran to his side and noticed Levi Samuels standing behind Mark, who was facing him. He looked very agitated, and I knew that he had something to do with whatever was going on.

I knelt down next to Cory, my knees sinking into the deep powder. “Stop fighting him. He outweighs you by fifty pounds of muscle. Stop and we will figure this out.”

“Bring them to the ballroom,” I ordered.

“No,” Jackson contradicted. “This is security, and it’s my jurisdiction. Take them to the paddy.”

“The ‘paddy”— what is this, 1875? Is there a wagon that comes with that, Constable Jackson?” I asked, not understanding how there could be any type of prison that I wasn’t aware of.

I followed Cory, who fought being pushed in the direction Jackson wanted him to go. Jackson himself, followed by Mark, and Levi, and three others on the security team, determinedly aimed him in the direction they wanted him to go. Our feet sank in the snowy powder until we finally made it to a small house that I thought was one of our few remaining empty dwellings.

Mark seemed to have been there before, and I was feeling betrayed. He led Levi to a chair and went back outside. Before I knew it, he was back with wood, and he was starting a fire to warm the freezing and sparsely furnished room. I looked on feeling as if I wasn’t even in the room, like I was watching a movie and all of the actors’ movements were well choreographed. I stayed back as an observer.

After shoving Cory ahead of him into what I can only guess was a secure room, Jackson came and sat behind a desk that was near the fire.

“Okay, how did it start?” Jackson asked an uncomfortable-looking Levi.

Levi looked sheepishly at me. “He was saying that Laura had no idea what she was doing and that you all just follow her blindly.” I made a small, snarky noise before I had even realized it.

Mark sent me a look and took a seat next to him. “Go on, Levi. It’s okay.”

“He said that she was getting power happy and that a bunch of Villagers were getting sick of it. That she let those people die in the fire because she had no plan.”

I bent my head at that to stare at my boots. It was true; I had no plan for fires of that magnitude.

“Anything else?” asked Jackson.

“He said that pretty soon she was going to try and get us all to move away from here for some ridiculous plan she has to bring us all to the Valley,” he said. He looked at our faces as if he was trying to pull information from us using only the power of his glance. His look turned accusing when he looked over to see my guilty expression.

“What happened after that,” Mark asked, getting him back on track.

“I told him he was a total dickweed and he swung at me. We ended up rolling on the ground, beatin’ the crap out of each other.” We all sat staring at each other in thought for an uncomfortable moment.

“Levi, you can go now if that is everything.” Jackson’s dismissal concluded his investigation.

“It’s not true, right?” begged Levi. “You aren’t thinking of moving us, are you?”

I stared at the lost-looking guy, just sitting there willing me to tell him it wasn’t true. “Levi, any decision like that would be left for the Village, not for me to make unilaterally. It would be done by vote.”

By the look on his face, that was not the answer he was looking for. He walked out of the little make-shift court house and jail looking very uneasy.

I wasn’t sure where to start with Mark and Jackson, so I went with, “What the hell is this place?”

“I decided to make this a jail right after you left on your little adventure,” said Jackson smugly.

“And you didn’t tell me?” I asked, steaming at his tone. “Why?”

“You can see why, Laura,” Mark said, defensively. “Because there are Villagers who are questioning your authority.”

“Doing this behind my back only undermines my authority more. How will this help? And people still have the right to question. This is still America, isn’t it?” I said, channeling my youngest niece.

“Is it?” asked Jackson.

I had never even questioned whether or not we were still Americans, or if America even existed anymore. America had failed, I couldn’t deny that. But had it ceased to exist?

∞

“For as much as you hate Jackson, you sure do defend him a lot,” I told Mark as we were walking home. I was so mad, I couldn’t even look at him.

“I don’t ‘hate’ anyone. I just dislike him— a lot,” Mark retorted.

“I have nothing going on with him. He’s my advisor, Mark. That’s it.”

“I know. I am just tired of fighting. Can we just hit rewind and start over?” he asked.

“It wouldn’t be the first time we did that, would it?” I asked, knowing very well that we had. “Fine, rewind ‘hit.’ Let’s move forward.”

I had no idea where the beginning point would be for this rewind, but I was just too tired of the tension and arguing. I don’t know why I decided to keep the Pandora’s Box open, but I continued to talk. This time it was about the giant, pink elephant in the room that I had never really come to terms with.

“I killed someone, and you don’t even seem to care that it’s eating me up,” I said as we persisted up the icy hill. Obviously, I still needed to talk with him about this.

“I know. I killed people in the war. Yours was self-defense, plain and simple,” said Mark.

“I feel different, though. Like I can never go back, and I am not even sure where ‘back’ is. Everything is just off,” I tried to explain.

Mark sucked in air and blew out a visible breath that swirled with the snowflakes that were coming down softly. “I get it. You took a human life that you can never give back. And I am glad you did it. Because if you hadn’t have done what you did, I wouldn’t have you here with me right now.”

I felt no better. We walked the rest of the way home in an uncomfortable silence.