The Survivors
Decisions

1

Monthly meetings were mandatory for everyone except guards who had duty right then. Kenn was impressed by the tarp roof that provided more room, the snacks and drinks, the neat orderliness of it. This didn’t feel like the apocalypse.

All the seats were taken as Adrian stepped under the awning.

A dozen men lined the corners of the gathering. Kenn now knew they were off duty guards being trained to do their jobs even when not on a shift. Adrian explained it as civic service, and from what Kenn had experienced here so far, it was succeeding. It didn’t hurt that it also gained Adrian’s respect. Everyone wanted that. They didn’t know it was standard Marine training.

The big crowd waited for Adrian to get a cup of coffee and a few cookies. He had a thick red notebook under his arm as he made his way to the table in the center of the crowd; he shunned the one in front that had been left for him.

Kenn recognized the bonding moment as a clever political move, but he also recognized the danger. He kept his hand near his holster. He noticed a few of the others–Kyle, Neil, Seth–did the same while easing closer.

Adrian remained standing as he got started, meeting tense glances to calm them. He could smell the reeking rot of bodies in the towns around them, even over the odors of their cooking and port-o-lets. This is winter. What will it be like in July? “This is the third meeting of Safe Haven Refugee Camp. We have ninety-one people.”

Safety in numbers was mentioned through the crowd, producing a pleased ripple. Few of them realized it was President’s Day. Those who did know didn’t care. That world was gone. Safe Haven didn’t need it. They had Adrian.

“We also have a doctor now!”

A cheer echoed. People scanned the organized mess, but not the Eagles. Kenn saw their attention stayed on their surroundings. Kyle and his team never slacked.

“We’ll sort out a schedule.” Adrian gestured. “For now, sign the sheet Neil has; put your problem on it if you can. The doctor will use it to decide who needs to be seen first.”

Neil passed the clipboard while people chatted.

“You gonna run those tests now?” An eager voice echoed from the rear of the crowd. “The ones to tell us if anyone here’s sick?”

Adrian chose his words carefully as people turned to stare. “I’d like to, yes, but–”

“And we’re gonna kick ’em out right? Like we voted on?” Tony, a low-fare grease monkey, interrupted him again.

Adrian frowned at the short, balding mechanic. “We won’t be so nasty, but yes. They’ll be asked to leave.”

People talked to each other, some sulking, some agreeing.

The drunkard sat down, satisfied.

Adrian flipped the page, smothering a curse. That won’t encourage anyone to get checked out. “Our new crew of guards has passed into level two, and that means we need another twenty men to try out for rookie level. Neil will pass that sheet around next. I’ll let you know my choices in a couple days. Next, our reserves aren’t growing. I understand that’s because no one feels safe. While I can’t take away all the danger, I can give you some protection. Kyle and his team are hereby on loan to protect any supply mission of six or more people that has been approved a day in advance.” Adrian’s tone hardened. “They get their orders from me. If they say no, it’s not safe, you’ll pick a different site. If something does go wrong, their priority is to get everyone back to camp. Also, schedule switches will no longer be handled by me. Kenn and Kyle will cover all changes. I’ll still make out the original, then give a final approval.” Adrian paused to light a stale smoke.

Kenn was almost positive Adrian was judging the reactions of the camp. People seemed fine with his choices, though there were a few words being exchanged among some of the Eagles over the order of the names. How important is that?

“As of tomorrow, there will be a third meal. The appliances Kenn and Doug hooked up run great, so from now on, we get three squares, Monday-Friday. Saturday and Sunday will remain the same–lunch and dinner, with the truck open for coffee, toast, and cereal. A through L will be served the new meal first; M-Z will go thirty-five minutes later, starting at noon.” He flipped another page. “Effective immediately, everyone is back on full water rations.”

The cheer was louder this time. Adrian waved at the grinning Marine. “Thank Kenn. His idea of searching trucks on the highway was great. We’re good as long as we replace at least one each week.”

Kenn soaked up the good vibes like a thirsty plant as he was slapped on the shoulders and congratulated, but he didn’t miss the gleam of satisfaction on Adrian’s face as the leader continued.

Neither did Charlie, or Tonya. One of them was thrilled; the other was furious they weren’t going back to Ohio for his mother.

“We have four new loads of clothes, shoes, blankets, and a lot of other gear we’ve been low on or were out of. The trucks will be open right after this meeting, M-Z goes first. A-L is twenty minutes later.” He paused, skimming his notes. “We have the photos from NORAD. They’re bad; they blow away the idea of getting help there. This odd weather is holding in some warmth, though. I say we keep hunting. If we haven’t found anything by the fourth of July, then we should pick a place to try rebuilding on our own.”

“You mean in the mountains?” someone called.

Kenn noticed the people here never really settled down. Tense sheep, waiting for the dog to bite.

Adrian had to raise his voice to be heard as stiff wind ran through camp, causing tents to flap. “Yes. The bunker under the base in Montana won’t hold us all, but this country is full of caves. I hope for something aboveground, but if we have to, we could take a big set of caves and block them off, make it work temporarily.” He waved a dismissive hand, demeanor calmer than his stomach as his people muttered and frowned. “It’s just something to think about. We’ll have a final vote on it in July. For now, we’ll stay here tomorrow and have our contest, then leave the next morning. Where to from there? We’re picking that tonight, and voting on new rules.”

Adrian met nervous gazes with calm, reasonable words. “We have a lot of people here now; we pick up more nearly every day. That’s great, exactly what we want, but many people aren’t pulling their weight. The current rules say everyone has to help, but I’d like to be more specific. We need each person here to pull three shifts on sentry duty, and one shift on any other chore of their choice. We all want things to be better, right?” Adrian waited for a reaction, noting halfhearted agreement with faces a mix of resignation and suspicion. “Before, better was earning the finer things, the luxuries. Now, better means working to survive, to keep what we have–this second chance. These things have to be done, and we have to be the ones to do them. There is no one else.”

The tone had become scolding. Kenn was impressed, sure there would be extra hands for at least the next week. No one liked Adrian to be disappointed or unhappy.

“I’d like to have more of us taking the gun classes. There’s a large group of guerrillas moving up Interstate 25, as most of you know. We need to be able to defend ourselves.”

“Do you think we’ll be attacked?” Cynthia wiped her brow. She was squeezed into the front with the elderly so she wouldn’t miss a single word or reaction.

Adrian shrugged, expression unreadable even though he knew her from before the war. She hadn’t placed him yet. She might not if fate was on his side, but Adrian hadn’t considered refusing her entry, or worse, getting rid of her. That was the difference between him and his father. “I hope not, but it is a part of why we need more hands for guard duty. That reminds me–people are getting out of their cars in unfamiliar places way too soon. Many times, the Eagles haven’t cleared or roped off the area yet. I’m telling you now, someone will end up getting hurt because of it.” Adrian went to the beaded doorway of the mess, nodding to the cook. Hilda was a plump German woman they’d picked up in central Nevada, and another one he wasn’t sure about yet. Like the reporter, Adrian didn’t know where she fit into his plans for their future, but he had little doubt they both did. If one of these two alert females discovered his secret, it was fate. They wouldn’t, though–at least not until these people were able to survive without him. Then, it would be open season on all Mitchels. “Can I get a Bud?”

The big shouldered cook did it immediately.

Adrian continued his meeting. “This area is bad. We all feel it. We can’t stay long or we’ll get sick. After the contest, I’d like to make some real miles to get away from here now that we know NORAD’s gone.”

Faces darkened at the second mention of the compound many of them had hoped would be standing and ready to accept survivors.

Adrian took the towel-wrapped beer from the cook. “Okay, any new business?”

“Yes.” Alex, a young math teacher from Montana, stood. “Are we going to... I mean... Can we celebrate the holidays? Some of the kids have asked, but we’re not sure what to tell them.” The well-dressed bald man sat down.

Adrian appeared to be considering, but this was easy. It was one of the things he’d covered in his notebook a month ago. “Just the ones that matter to us as a country, I think. The Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, New Years. Memorial Day.”

“What about Easter and Christmas?” Cynthia didn’t look up. She was hand copying the meeting in furious scribbles.

“Not as a whole camp. Hardly anyone believed in them. They used them as an excuse to indulge or buy off loved ones instead of spending real time with them. I won’t even get into the money and stores, and what it did to our lives. Each person can do what they want. I won’t be upset by kids hunting eggs or dressing up for Halloween, but I won’t let a few people force it on everyone else either.”

There were shrugs and scowls, again about evenly split. Adrian took a moment to open his beer and take a healthy swallow. It would give his camp a few seconds to settle into the idea that even the holidays had changed for them. “Guess we might all like Halloween a little more if one of you could do some magic.”

His common joke drew chuckles.

“All right, anyone else have new business?”

“I have some suggestions.” The doctor’s voice was respectful.

Adrian liked the intelligence he read in the short, rounded man’s face. Fresh out of a self-imposed quarantine, John had already made a few friends. Adrian gestured. “Suggest away.”

The aging healer stood, sending a strong menthol whiff of BenGay over the gathered crowd. “There should be more fruit and juice for everyone, plus daily vitamins. We’re being exposed to a lot of poisons, especially in places like this, and the antioxidants in the fruits and juice will boost immune systems.”

Silence greeted his words.

John went on, hoping he wasn’t about to step on anyone’s toes. “I’ve only been here a couple days, but I’ve been a doctor a long time. I can tell you what illnesses we’ll face in the coming months, and how to prevent some of them.”

Adrian gave a barely perceptible nod of approval, pleased by the man’s use of we. “What can we expect if we ignore your suggestions?”

“Scurvy, rashes, colds, weak immune systems that will let the sniffles last for weeks instead of days. Migraines, vomiting, diarrhea that lasts for weeks at a time. The list gets bad after that. We’re absorbing the chemicals from the bombs, and what was released by meltdowns after the war. Once enough builds up, we’ll start getting sick...and dying.”

The crowd stirred uneasily, but Adrian did nothing to calm them. All of you need a reality check. Adrian remembered idiots catching rainwater on their tongues the last time it stormed, just to see if it would burn. They knew less than nothing.

John noted Adrian’s expression and recognized the unspoken order. Adrian wanted to scare them. That was easy. John used the truth. “Our biggest threat is the radiation. It’s fatal at high doses, but it’s the low doses we have to worry about now. It’s a slow death that replaces each person’s weak link. It wakes up dormant genes, like cancer or MS, and since exposure kills the immune system, we’ll be attacked from the inside even if we recover. The immune system is our army. The radiation can’t be stopped, but it can be slowed by an army that’s strong. For us, that it could mean only 30% will die, instead of 70%.”

“But the bombs came months ago. The toxics soaked into the ground. Why are we worryin’? We ain’t even found any radiation vics.” A slender, older woman in the front delivered a dismissive wave.

“I did.”

“We have.”

John held up a hand.

Adrian was pleased when the answering crowd fell off to mostly silence.

“People who were exposed during the war are gone. Our threats are coming from the weather dropping it on us, and from radioactive debris on the ground where we sleep and need to grow food. It takes a long time for the toxics, as you call them, to go away. You know that layer of smog above us when it’s daylight, the one that makes it feel like dusk all the time? It’s the toxins. Until that dissipates, we’re not safe. Near the bomb zones, that’ll take thirty years or more.”

The crowd muttered and murmured, whispering, worrying. Adrian finished his beer before he spoke, pleased. He would have no trouble getting a good day’s travel out of them now. “So, you want responsibility for our health? You want to care for us? The right to add to our laws, once voted on, comes with that job,” Adrian both offered and warned.

The doctor was aware of what was going on. He was just surprised it was being offered so soon. “Not the laws part. I’m no politician, but yes to the rest. My oath didn’t die with my country.” John slid his glasses back on as he sat down.

“Well said. You’ve got my vote, but it’s theirs that matters.” Adrian waved. “All those in favor of putting the doctor’s suggestions on the ballot?” Adrian held up his own hand.

Both men were relieved when nearly everyone else did too.

“So be it.” Adrian held up a sheet of paper. “The bottom of the ballot is blank. Fill it in as advice. A-D-V-I-C-E. Okay, any other new business?”

No one spoke.

Adrian motioned Neil to pass around the pens and papers.

Neil was emotionless while grinning and saying all the right things. Something was going on with Kenn and Adrian. Neil could feel it. What came to mind was the reason his mirth didn’t reach his eyes.

“All right, last thing.” Adrian got attention again. “Members of the moral board need to stay after the vote. We have a possible violation to judge.”

Kenn, like everyone else, wondered what unspoken rule had been broken. The big ones went to trials that were witnessed by the whole camp, or so he’d heard. There hadn’t been one since Kenn had been here; there hadn’t even been a case of thievery, but the moral code was strict. There had been a single private vote since he’d joined Safe Haven; the stalker was no longer a member.

“Which rule?” Roger Sawyer, the current moral board foreman, waited for an answer without smiling.

“None directly. That’s why we’re doing a closed hearing. I won’t ruin an innocent man’s chance for a new life here.” Adrian said it for ear candy, but he was sure the man would be gone before he did rounds tonight. Leon and the words not guilty hadn’t been on speaking terms in a long time.

Roger grinned. “Okay.”

Adrian hated the sudden eagerness in the ex-Pinkerton detective’s face, but he understood the deep need to punish those who were even the smallest bit responsible for all they had suffered.

Adrian waited until Kenn dropped his vote into the metal lockbox, then joined him at a small, empty table in the rear. The rest of the camp crowded around the front tables to watch as the votes were counted.

Kenn kept his voice low. “That was some of the slickest shit I’ve ever heard.”

Adrian scanned the guards. “Thanks. Maybe you’ll MC for me sometime.”

Kenn laughed. “I’m not a public speaker.”

Adrian let it go. He was already sure the Marine would be exactly that, and there would be no one better. “How about coming by my tent an hour after everything’s done? We’ll have a conversation.”

“Sure.” Kenn kept his tone casual, heartrate picking up. This is it. “Should I bring anything?”

Adrian grunted. “Just your stamina. I’m going to need to get drunk when this night’s work is over.”

Kenn snickered. “You got it, Boss.”

Adrian’s heart eased. I have my XO.

Tonya slipped away, satisfied her plans now stood a chance.

Charlie stomped away, fuming that his didn’t.

2

The vote went Adrian’s way on all the issues. As the crowd broke up, their faces were confident he was doing his job, but the sly eyes also said they would replace out what rule had been broken and by whom.

In a brief time, the mess emptied as everyone settled in for the night. Kenn wanted to stay and watch the moral board trial, but he caught Adrian’s eye instead of waiting until he was asked to leave. “I volunteered for a double on sentry duty tomorrow. I’m going to hit the showers, then the rack. Call me if you need anything.” Kenn was showing humility he didn’t feel.

“Hang around, will ya?” Adrian took the opportunity, telling them all his status had changed. “I need someone on my right.”

The words held a ring of magic.

Kenn kept triumph out of his voice by will. “You know it.”

Adrian gave Neil a nod before motioning to the thirteen men and women waiting together.

Neil left, scowling. It was as he and Kyle feared. That coveted position was being given to Kenn.

Adrian led the small group. “We’ve set up a hooch near the parking area. Follow Doug. He’s the one with the red vest and shoulders so wide we could land a plane on them. Let’s get this done.”

The mood turned somber, but Kenn couldn’t help the swagger in his stride as he walked on Adrian’s right. They followed the board members, who had no trouble catching up to Doug. His limp was the only reason Kenn didn’t consider him competition.

Kyle was on Adrian’s left. Kenn wondered what the stocky goon thought. Probably hated it. Nothing he can do but suck it up. It made Kenn feel like laughing. He and Kyle hadn’t spoken a word to each other in two full days, not since the first gun class he’d taught where they’d both said too much and barely avoided a fight. Now Kenn was about to be given authority; he planned to rub it in every chance he got.

“Stay on this guy. He has a nasty temper. I’m sure this type of proceeding isn’t new to him.”

Kenn hid disappointment at Adrian’s words. We’re just chasers for a prisoner?

“The punishment might be new.” Kyle pulled his black cap tighter over dark curls.

Adrian nodded. “Don’t let him intimidate the girls. They’re already afraid he might sneak back to hurt them in retaliation.”

Kenn saw them exchange a glance that said the violator wouldn’t be able to return because he would be dead. Jealousy flared up in Kenn. It made him push, testing his new place before it was official. “Can I ask, or should I wait?”

Kyle listened. A refusal would mean they had read too much into Adrian’s words. Kenn might not be empty clothes, the bird attack proved that, but something was wrong with him.

“Sexual assault, threats against women and kids, two counts of physical assault. Those are all death penalty crimes here; he already knows it.”

Sorry about your luck. Kenn gloated silently, but he brought the inner Marine out when they entered the big tent and spotted the defendant’s huge body. Leon was easily three hundred pounds and little of it was fat.

As he and Kyle strode to each side of the sullen biker, they exchanged a look that said truce, for Adrian’s sake. It wouldn’t take much for this to get out of control. The suspect wasn’t even handcuffed. Neither man liked Adrian being in the tent with him. Anything could go wrong once the verdict was in.

3

Nothing did. Less than an hour later, a sedated Leon was being escorted out of the tape by men who had orders to kill him and piss on his body–a request from one of the victims.

Adrian wandered afterwards, worrying over the order. He walked in the darkest shadows around the flapping tents, occasionally listening to his people. Leon wouldn’t be missed. He had contributed almost nothing, but the loss of life still made Adrian feel like a failure as a leader.

Not that he would change his mind. He could still call Kyle, but he knew the mobster didn’t want the biker to get a stay of execution after what they’d listened to him admit, and he wouldn’t. The entire world was better off without Leon. Right or wrong, Adrian had made a choice based on what was best for everyone here. It was how he made all of his decisions now. It was the only way his people would survive.

Adrian’s feet carried him toward the medical tent, but he hesitated to go in despite knowing he needed to invite the doctor onto his payroll. Doctors were notoriously temperamental, and this one, having been here only a brief time, couldn’t be pleased. It had taken nearly a dozen men to hold Leon down, and though John had done what was asked without protest, the hypocrisy of it had to be fresh in his mind.

Headlights flashed.

Adrian shifted deeper into the shadows as Tonya rolled into camp in a very red, very new convertible that was not easy on gas like they had voted for at the last meeting.

She parked in front of her tent, making him grumble at the second rule violation. As she disappeared into the deluxe vinyl structure, he scribbled a note in his book, wondering which sucker had helped her put it up. Tonya would gas her own car all this week, and maybe the doctor’s idea about a mandatory quarantine zone would work. She could be–

“…new place, Anne. A hard new world, where everything has an uglier price.”

Adrian didn’t budge as the husband and wife talked about what had happened, unknowingly approaching his hiding place while they cleaned up the large two-sided medical tent.

“But it’s barbaric, Johnnie! Branding him like an animal! It’s...barbaric!”

“What else is there? No jails, no drugs, no mental help, and really, those things never worked on men like that anyway.”

Adrian heard her frustrated sigh and understood that criminal justice was an old discussion between them.

“He couldn’t just let him go, Anne. He had to make sure that everyone who meets that monster will see what he really is.”

“It isn’t right! We heal. We don’t hurt! This isn’t how America’s supposed to be!”

John gave a harsh snort that made Adrian tense.

“This is exactly how it should have been, and maybe we wouldn’t have destroyed ourselves.”

“But the whole word?”

“It’ll keep him from easily hiding or removing it.”

“It’ll get him killed and you’re responsible. You did it.”

“This is a good place, and I’ll do what I have to so that we can stay, but this sin I’ll pay for willingly. It’s the only way now, and let me tell you a secret, my dear sweet wife. I won’t carry the burden alone. That young man feels it a lot more than he shows. Adrian values life, all life. It’s in the way he cares for his people, for his farm of exotic humans. I’ll give him my help in any way he needs, and I hope you will too. He’s the few, the good, and I suspect we were allowed to survive because he needs us.”

Definitely right to offer John a place on the council. Adrian moved away from their tent. That old man had his head on straight. Adrian had used it at the meeting and heard it just now, but he had witnessed it during the punishment too. John had handled not only himself, but also Anne and the Eagles around him with a calm sense of leadership. Because of that, the branding hadn’t been as ugly as the members of the voting board had expected. Most of them would be able to sleep tonight.

It only eased Adrian’s mind a little, though, that he now had at least two of the six or seven he’d been promised in his dreams. He spent a lot of time worrying over the rest. Had he passed them somewhere? He hoped not because he and his grunts couldn’t keep doing all the work. Eventually, they would miss something that endangered these people and cost them the right to lead. The weight of this was heavier than anything Adrian had ever carried before the war and he was starting to feel a bit winded.

4

Life is good. Kenn was sitting in an uncomfortable folding chair in the center of Adrian’s perfectly neat tent. The camp was calm, and he was with the boss. It doesn’t get any better than this.

“Here ya go. Try this.” Adrian handed him a cool metal cup and a cigar.

Kenn noticed Adrian’s five o’clock shadow and bloodshot eyes. Clearly, their leader had gotten a head start.

Kenn smelled his cup, liking the vanilla more than he would ever admit. He took a large swallow. It burned its way to his gut despite the sweet smell and aftertaste. He sucked in a breath, coughed.

The two men shared a snicker.

“Good?”

Kenn nodded, noting the patriotic designs on the cups. With Adrian, everything was about love of country.

Adrian studied Kenn, facade unreadable as the tension thickened.

Kenn forced himself to stay still, sensing if he was too eager now, he might lose it all before it was actually his.

“Do you have any idea why I asked you here?”

Kenn shook his head, instinctively knowing this was part of the ritual of being brought in. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Just the opposite. The guys tell me you like to stay busy.”

Kenn emptied his cup and sat it on the small folding table as the potent alcohol burned its way to his gut. “There’s a lot to be done...” He gasped, making Adrian snicker again.

“Ain’t that the truth. How long have you been here now?”

“Fifteen days.”

The quick answer made Adrian grimace. “You’ve done doubles on guard duty, taught two gun classes for the Eagles, helped replace supplies, set up camp, broke down camp, and gassed up all the vehicles. There’s been something every day, all on top your regular schedule. That’s a busy two weeks.”

Kenn shrugged. “Unleaded is my new cologne.”

“Smells like a hard worker, someone with ambition searching for a mountain to climb.”

“I’ve got a lot to offer.”

“And I want it.” Adrian handed Kenn a thick black notebook and a silver pen. “Others recognize it too. Some have hinted you should be invited onto the payroll.”

“But?”

“It’s not up to some or even most of them. It has to be unanimous; that depends on you.”

Kenn met Adrian’s pointed look with one of his own. “I’m working on it.”

“Not fast enough, but I can’t wait any longer.” Adrian finished lighting his cigar. “We have to get these people ready to defend their freedom.”

Kenn asked himself if he could start out as a lowly drill instructor. He glanced up to say that wouldn’t hold him for long.

Adrian was ready with careful wording. “I have important work for you. You’ll be higher than any other here now. Together, we’ll save some of what matters. If you have the time?”

“You make the schedules. I have the time if you say I do.”

Adrian stiffened at the flippant tone. “This is no game. Be sure.”

“I’d never treat it that way.” Kenn was horrified he’d come across as anything less than serious.

Adrian knew, but the warning came with the offer. “I know why you survived. I know your destiny in this hard, new world.” The only thing I don’t know, is if you’re strong enough to pull it off. “Effective immediately, you have the place at my side you began hoping for the day we found you. You’ll always be my second in command and more trusted than anyone else. I’m offering you what the Corps couldn’t–your purpose, the reason you were born, why you survived.”

“What’s the catch?”

“You’re mine.” Adrian’s harsh tone said no going back would be allowed. “Be the anything and everything I need to keep these people alive. I make every choice based on what’s best for the entire camp and nothing else takes priority, not even me. I’ll do anything to keep us together, and I will expect your complete, immediate support, no matter the chore or situation.”

Kenn didn’t consider refusing. He held out a hand. “It’s my honor to serve.”