Humanity Gone (Book 2): Facade of Order Page 13

  The armored tour bus pulls up behind my truck when Ryan’s convoy is completely out of sight. The bus's hinged door pushes to the side with a whine of metal. Michael walks out and steps over to my window.

  “You think this plan of yours is actually going to work?” I ask. He continues his gaze straight ahead towards the capital. After a few moments he finally answers.

  “I don't know. Is this truck plan of yours going to work?” he inquires and glances at me for a moment. “The last grade I graduated was 10th, and most of what I know about warfare came from movies and video games,” he replies. His face is cold. “If I knew what I was doing, yesterday morning wouldn't have happened.”

  His voice softens. “All I know is: I just want that man to pay. I want him to answer for everything that has happened. I want him to answer for the friends he has killed over the years. We intercepted enough messages to know that he's the one barking the orders. I hear they even have posters of him up all over the capital.”

  I nod slightly. He pulls his rifle up and tightens the strap so it hangs closer across his chest. He looks at our men on the other side of the road and then to those stepping out of the bus. There are noticeably many less than those who surprised us yesterday at the Sanctuary. Only six survived along with Michael. He turns to me.

  “When this starts. Make sure none of your people get too close. Leave it up to us. We've done a similar maneuver before.”

  “Don't do anything too crazy out there Michael,” I say. “You said you wanted to make up for past sins. You have done that, and I never said thanks for getting Paige out of there yesterday. I heard what you did.”

  He nods and turns his gaze forward again.

  “I know who you are Carter,” Michael says, still facing forward towards the distant capital.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Five years ago. The motel. You were with that girl and her brother. And those twins.” he continues to look forward. My heart begins to pound faster. I consider moving my hand towards my gun, but instead, I hesitate. That night slowly comes back into focus.

  Tina.

  “I was in charge of the sentries on the wall. I watched as Saul took girl after girl. I watched as the other men followed their fearless leader. There were a lot of others like me that refused to take part, but we also didn't try to stop it.”

  I fail to find words. Again, I remember her lying in the parking lot. The blood reflecting the spotlights like fallen rubies. A lost treasure.

  “I did nothing. That's the worst. I watched from above that night when you snuck into that girl’s room. By that point I hoped for anything that would get rid of him, so I kept my mouth shut when you two began to sneak through the dark towards the exit. I rooted for you; I even distracted a few guards. But you still didn't make it. I watched one of Saul's closest shoot her. When that other boy came in and took Saul, I thought maybe it was finally over. But there was more blood to be shed.” His voice starts to fade more.

  “When Saul came back all busted up from you two, he went out after you with a couple of cars. After he left, I finally acted like a man. I gathered a group together to drag him back and reason with him to finish his barbarism and stop this vendetta. I wasn't the only one that wanted it all to end. It was too dangerous. It was too wrong. We finally caught up to Saul at the street outpost down the road. There were a few shots as we approached, and they warned of the nightmare in front of us. All of my friends, my brothers, were dead throughout the street and yard. Maybe Saul deserved what he got, but not everyone else out there did. Saul and a select few were demons. Too many of us were just kids looking for a leader. My friends were torn apart by arrows and lead. My best friend lied beside a blood covered wall in a pool of red. I became so angry.

  “Only one was left alive- that girl's brother. He was barely alive and slumped against a car tire. One of the men who I arrived with held a gun to his forehead. Before he could fire his gun, I pulled my pistol and fired three shots into that girl's brother. The look he gave us before I fired burned into my mind. Yesterday, when she looked at me I saw that look again. Then I recognized you as well.”

  I realize that I have stopped breathing and continue to stare straight out the windshield.

  “There wasn't much left of his face when I was finished. I hated him so much for what he took. He took someone I loved.”

  A single tear drops down his cheek, but his voice remains firm.

  “Now, I envy him. He died fighting for all of you - saving you from what we once were. He died with an honor that took me years to understand. He was protecting his family. Instead of being a coward, I should have protected my family much sooner. Maybe none of that would have happened. Sure, I saved Paige. But she's a drop in the bucket compared to the atrocities I allowed all those years. I don't think I will be able to die the same way that girl's brother died that day. I don't deserve it.”

  Michael's eyes drift to the ground. He begins to walk away.

  “Maybe God will have mercy when I die.”

  I try to find something to say back, but the words get caught in my throat.

  He slowly walks away back to his men.

  Chapter 20: Caitlyn

  The walls of the capital are higher than I imagined. What once was a town is now nearly a fortress. In all my years of wandering through the wilderness, I never came this close to the capital. I had heard of it in from others I met throughout the years. The moon provides just enough light to make out a few of the sentries stationed at the top of the concrete walls that seem to go on for miles in both directions. The resources the wall must have consumed is unimaginable, but it gave them security.

  Rumor said that inside it was just like how things were before the plague.

  Electricity.

  Running water.

  Security.

  Sure the Resistance's compound has all these things, but it is never certain. In my short time with them, the limited power constantly flickers, and the water constantly loses pressure. We try to conserve everything, while apparently everything is simply disposable here. The lifestyle we all wanted back. The lifestyle Sara wanted.

  Our group of a dozen gathers in the darkness behind a broken down school bus fifteen yards from the wall. It looks like one of the worker transports I saw earlier. The tires are missing and now it is just a rotting shell beside the city.

  Ryan briefly explains our plan again and all of the men around me check their rifles. I notch an arrow. My shooting has stayed superb despite the loss of my two fingers, so Ryan wants me with him on point as we go in. According to him, I have the best, quietest shot. I was hesitant to come, and I'm still apprehensive. I don't really want to be here. I don't really want to kill anymore, but if the rest of them are going to do their part, I need to do mine. My eagerness to “hunt” isn't there anymore. The impossibility of ever finding Sara has set in and I want to stop fighting. Regrettably, shooting an arrow is one of the few things I am good at.

  My eyes go down to my left hand, to the two remaining fingers. Maybe this will be the last time.

  “Okay, this looks like the best place,” Ryan quietly says while glancing out. “The wall is hastily built here and uneven. We can take out the two sentries and climb over. Hopefully Michael's intel is correct, and the president's house should just be a half a mile inside from this side.”

  Ryan turns to me and his eyes glance to my bow and his head quickly tilts towards the sentries.

  My responsibility.

  I run from behind the bus to some low undergrowth a few feet away that are still in the cover of darkness. The sentries are barely paying attention. One is struggling with a lighter to ignite the tip of his cigarette and the other one keeps glancing back over the compound. They are maybe twenty feet apart.

  I bring the bow up to my face and feel the arrow's fletching against my cheek. My heartbeat quickens. Shooting never made me nervous before. Now, I am dreadfully nervous.

  Wait.

  The one brings his
hand up to shield his cigarette from the wind and it covers the one half of his face. The side facing the other guard. Without hesitation, I switch targets and aim for the head of the other one. I release and the arrow finds its target. I feel a tug in my chest.

  Ignoring the pounding of my heart, I reload an arrow and return to the one lighting the cigarette. In his success of lighting it, he doesn't even notice that the other one dropped. He pulls in a breath and his eyes return to their duty. I take aim at his head and breathe out.

  The guard looks down the wall. He looks out towards us and the cigarette drops from his mouth. He must have seen the body.

  I release.

  The arrow replaces the cigarette in his mouth, and he drops. A pain twists in my stomach, and I bend over in front of a bush. I dry heave a few times.

  I really can't do this killing anymore. When this is all over with, maybe there's another way I can try to find Sara without the bodies.

  Our group makes a break for the wall. I wipe my mouth and follow behind them. Ryan and Dave are the first to hobble up the wall and more men quickly follow. Even with a gimp arm, Dave still manages to easily lift himself up. Luckily it seems that nobody else is in the area. Michael's plan said this point has the largest gap between guards. We continue to scamper up the small foot holds and I am one of the last ones up. The squad of men has already fanned out and secured the nearby area.

  I reach to the top of the wall and hoist my body up. Kevin grabs my arm and helps me the rest of the way. I see the two bodies, and manage to avoid their dead gazes. Yet for the first time in five years, I leave the arrows. I don't want to get near them. I finally turn from the bodies and focus over the capital. I never could have prepared myself to see this.

  It's... normal. It seems like an entire town that was completely unaffected by the hell that enveloped the rest of America. For miles, I can see street lights and headlights. Through windows, I see lamps, and even the soft glow of televisions flicker within a number of houses. The capital is filled with homes and in the distance I can see a small town square. There is even a restaurant with a neon sign saying “Open.” This makes the Resistance's compound look like a third world country. Life has gone on within these walls. How have they done this? Why can't we live just like them?

  Then it all comes crashing back to me. This is all built on the backs of workers, of slaves. All of this is possible because all over the territory work farms were sending in food and supplies. Hundreds, maybe thousands, were suffering so these entitled few could have their luxuries. I feel my grip tighten on my bow with anger.

  This was the way humanity grew for centuries. This isn't going to start over again. This president is going to be ours tonight. I reclaim some of my desire to fight. For Jo and Carter. For that little girl. For Sara.

  For me.

  I take point with Ryan and Dave as we make our way through the streets. We stay in a long line and weave between the dark buildings as the people are asleep. A hand grabs my shoulder.

  “There.” Ryan says. He points to a house in the distance. Many guards surround the area. There would be too many to take out quietly.

  He looks at his watch. It's 3:05. “Michael and Carter should have already...”

  In the distance a soft explosion fills the air. The sky briefly lights up in the distance. The guards look around; they are confused as the patter of gunfire begins at the front entrance. They point and yell to each other. Several of the guards take off running in the direction of the explosion. Surprisingly, only three guards remain at the two doors. Again, Michael's intel is dead on. We head towards the one isolated one. He stands ready, but his movements reveal his nervousness. They've never been attacked here before, and not like this.

  “Alright, let's go,” Ryan says.

  I line up my arrow on the solitary guard and release.

  I miss. The arrow buries into the vinyl siding behind him.

  My body flinches when his corpse drops to the ground after a small CRACK from beside me. The other guards reacts to the noise, but they drop after a few more cracks. A small line of smoke rises from Kevin and Ryan's guns. Each is fitted with some sort of silencer on the end. They weren't silent, but quiet enough.

  “We have this Caitlyn; these should be quiet enough now with the gunfire in the distance.” Ryan says.

  Then I put my bow away.

  My heart may have the desire to fight, but my body doesn't.

  Chapter 21: Carter

  My watch shows a few minutes past 3 AM. It is time. I shift slightly in the seat of David's truck. They should be over the walls at this point. God knows what is on the inside of that place, and they need a clear path. Michael said they have men stationed all over the exterior of the president's house. This diversion will distract most of them long enough for Ryan to get in and out. I look down the path towards the main entrance to the capital. Hopefully they fall for this.

  I turn to the right and several dozen men are lined up and ready for the assault. Right before 3 AM we moved the cars closer in darkness and lined up a hundred yards or so away from the front gate amongst trees and crumbling buildings. We parked the cars facing out a safe distance back so we will have a speedy exit when we retreat. I look to the right out of my open driver's side door and in the rear-view mirror. Michael and his bus are a little distance behind us. Sneaking with that mountain of steel would have been too risky. As soon as it begins, they will join us. I never imagined charging into battle with the Sanctuary.

  David's truck was shot to hell and I figured he would like to see his baby go out with a bang. Too bad he won't be around to see it.

  “Are they in tight?” I whisper to Jo while looking back out the open door. She looks at me and nods as she pulls the straps tighter over the truck bed. We were able to fit nearly fifty gallons of gas and five propane tanks into the cargo space. Jo is going to stay pretty far back with her rifle and try to keep us covered. I am happy she decided to stay back more. I wish Paige would do the same. She insisted on being right beside me as soon as I'm out of the truck. Arguing with her is pointless. She does what she wants to do.

  Anyway, this truck should get their attention. I turn on the ignition and my blood begins to surge through my veins as the engine roars to life. My foot drops hard on the gas, and I direct the truck straight at the entrance.

  As the car picks up more and more speed, I switch on the cruise control. I see the gate ahead and can barely make out the figures waiting. I turn on the headlights to get their attention. This is a distraction. As the entrance quickly approaches, I pull my courage together and leap from the truck. After a painful landing, I roll though the grass alongside the road as the truck continues the last 50 feet towards the entrance. It barely misses the wrecks of a few cars that lie on the road. I rise to my knees and try to focus on Dave's truck. My vision is spinning, but I pick myself up and see the headlights moving closer to the entrance. The guards open fire. Dozens of muzzle flashes open up along the wall as they shoot at the vehicle.

  The truck ignites from the gunfire but continues to press forward. It drifts slightly off the road, and crashes into their wall with an explosion that briefly turns night into day. It missed the entrance, but I still hear a few screams. It worked. Their yells of pain are quickly met by the screams of war as men pass me in their charge to the wall. The Resistance runs along both sides of the road finding cover behind whatever they can find. I finally pick myself up and join them in their dash to the entrance.

  The entrance resembles a toll both except with high concrete walls on both sides. Armed men stand on the top of the wall behind barricades. Several other guards are on ground level. They move about frantically, and some already appear injured. Several spotlights illuminate the road. They all fire out blindly into the darkness at the screams and the source of the truck that is burning against the wall.

  As we get closer, men start to dig in behind old cars and the wreckage of old mobile homes - I guess the owners weren't allowed into the c
apital. One of our men begins to open up on the capital's entrance, and soon everyone is firing with him. If this doesn't fool them into thinking we are launching a full scale attack I do not know what will. Hopefully, this gives Ryan that clear path to the president.

  A few bullets from the capital tear up the street around me, and I dive behind the wreckage of a car - a car that apparently long ago did not survive the same gunfire.

  I breathe in as much oxygen as my lungs allow and pull out my pistol and check the round in the chamber. A moment later, a mass moves beside me and kneels. Paige.

  “You okay?” she asks. I nod. She shakes her head. “Look at your arm.”

  I turn and see that my shirt is ripped and my entire upper arm glistens red in the starlight. It must have scraped on the ground when I jumped from the truck. She sets down her weapon and takes a rag from her satchel. She wraps it quickly and we both look at each other.

  “Thanks,” I kiss her quickly on the head. “I still would have liked you to stay back.”

  “I have to do my part too. It's not gonna get much more dangerous,” she says back.

  She is right. I kneel and fire a few shots at the entrance. It seems like a hundred shots reply. She blindly fires a few from cover too. We should be at a safe enough distance. Everyone was told to find cover like this and keep them busy. No one is to put their life on the line.

  “Do you think that got their attention?” Paige whispers.

  “Well,” I answer. “If that didn't, Michael will.”

  I point to the Sanctuary's bus tearing down the road in reverse. The mounted gun on the back of the bus fires madly at the entrance. It smashes through the wreckage of a car and passes all of us along the sides of the road. Smoke pours from the tires as it comes to a halt in the middle of the street. Michael is the first one out and grabs onto a metal plate on the side of the vehicle. He releases a hatch and nearly all the welded metal begins to move away from the bus's frame. The steel is a solid piece on wheels and hinged to the back of the bus. The armor opens like a switchblade and provides a solid shield from the bullets. Another one of his men runs to the other side of the bus and pushes out the hinged steel. With the bus it forms a giant “T.” The rest of the Sanctuary men bail out of the bus and take cover behind the new steel barricade. They stick their rifles through portholes in these “wings” and continue to fire at the entrance to the capital. The bus creates a wall of steel nearly the width of the road with a mounted gun right in the middle.