Dale chuckled as Ken sputtered.
Peggy sighed and stuffed the whole biscuit in her mouth. Dale looked at her with an impressed smile on his face and she chewed the wad of white flour goodness slowly. With a shrug, she said, “I was hungry.” The truth was she was about to say something that would have pissed everyone off. She was in a bad mood and knew it. Yet, she didn’t want to be alone.
Looking harried, Curtis walked into the dining room. He spotted them and headed over, his hand shoving his thin blond hair back from his face. Peggy thought he looked about as pissy as she felt. “Linda, there you are. I thought you were going to come down and join me in the communication center,” he said, reaching the table.
“I’m getting drunk,” she answered. Clicking coffee cups with Dale, she dismissed Curtis with a look.
“Oh, well. You could maybe come down to the communication center and we could talk,” Curtis said, a little more gently. He looked peeved at Dale as he drew up a chair and sat next to Linda. “Felix was such a great guy,” Linda declared. “He was my buddy. And Roger, that fucking perv, taught me how to swear in Klingon and told me all about Vulcans and sex. And Bill...man...Bill...”
“We don’t know what has happened yet. We shouldn’t start having their wake just yet,” Maddie said gently.
“You didn’t know them. How would you know?” Curtis crossed his arms and glared at the older woman. “I may not know them. But they’re people and I do care. I believe we should not mourn until we know for sure,” Maddie answered in a tone that was a little more firm than one would expect from her delicate appearance.
“And don’t get in Maddie’s face. She’s a good one,” Dale said shortly. He folded his big arms over his chest. “Besides, who the fuck are you, you punk ass kid.” “I am a police officer here in this fort and I will let you know that I know those people who are out there and-”
Peggy put her hand on Curtis’ arm and squeezed. “Shut up.”
“What?” He looked at her in surprise. “Just shut up. We’re all sitting here, upset, pissy, and just trying to get a little comfort from each other. We don’t need you wagging your badge or your dick in our faces.”
Linda snorted whiskey out of her nose, laughing loudly.
Curtis looked at her with a hurt expression on his face.
Slamming her hands down on the table, Lenore glowered at no one in particular. “I did what I thought was right.”
“I wouldn’t be here if not for you,” Ken said, hugging her arm.
“But maybe the rest of the team would be here if you hadn’t gone off firing your gun,” Curtis snapped. “That’s it!” Peggy grabbed Curtis’ wrist and dragged him out of his chair. “Go back to the communication center and do your job. Now!”
Curtis sputtered, but the look on Peggy’s face shut him up. With a dark scowl, he stomped off.
Linda downed the last bit of whiskey and stood up, swaying on her feet. “I’ll go calm his ass down.” “Is that what they call it now days?” Peggy felt a sharp pang of disappointment as Linda started after Curtis. She wasn’t sure if she was jealous that Linda and Curtis were going to mess around or if it was because Linda deserved better than a surly boy with a badge.
With a shrug, Linda kept walking after Curtis. “I’m not going into the communication center until tomorrow,” Ken decided.
“Let them get naked. As long as they are listening for our people,” Peggy sighed. “Nothing wrong with comforting each other in our time of need,” Dale said.
“No, not at all,” Maddie agreed. She was seated next to Lenore now, gently stroking her hair.
“You remind me of my grandma,” Lenore said in a low voice.
“Thank you, hon.”
The people at the table lapsed into silence and Peggy began to butter another biscuit. She should get up to check on Cody soon. He was sleeping over with a friend and she wanted to make sure he was okay before his friend’s parents turned in. Maybe it was the manly scent of Dale next to her or the smell of the biscuits, but she was feeling a little more relaxed now.
“I hope they come home okay.” Ken reached out to grab the peach jam.
Lenore wiped another tear away.
Peggy had nothing to say that would be productive, so she just ate.
2. The Thoughts of One Man
Kevin Reynolds leaned against the railing of the second floor of the mall watching the newcomers. He could tell the woman was still reeling from the blow to her head. Her companion, Bill, had not left her side all night. They were now settled into what had been a children’s clothing store, both of them lying down on the army issue cots they had slept on during the night. He could barely see the very pretty Latina’s red sweater standing out amidst all the other people in the store. Rubbing his hand over his head, he felt the prickle of his closely cut hair tickle his palm. He felt bone weary. His brain felt overwhelmed. Without a doubt he was going on pure adrenaline at this point. It was certain sleep would be long in coming.
An army private wandered past him, gun slung casually in his arms, and they both acknowledged each other with half-assed salutes. Kevin wondered if this how Fletcher Christian felt on board the HMS Bounty. Knotted up inside until he felt like he could barely breathe?
Below him the soft voices of the four hundred people living in the mall murmured. It was past noon now. Rations were passed out. Water bottles, half full, were being dispensed. Work crews would be changing shifts. The few children that had survived the flu were in school.
Everyone looked drawn, tired, and scared.
And after what he had recently discovered, they should be.
His fingers traced over the flag on his jacket thoughtfully. America didn’t exist anymore, but the people did. They were gathered down below, struggling to make it through. They were fighting tough. He could see that, but they were getting worn down by the powers that be. He was worn down by the powers that be.
The Senator and her cronies formed a parade as they walked across a bridge nearby. They headed into Foley’s, where they were headquartered.
They were the ‘haves;’ below were ‘have nots.’ How the Major General did not see this was beyond him. Ever since the rescue station started up the Major General had been intent on preserving “the American people,” and yet, he was helping the Senator create a new world where the American people were…
As a black man it made him cringe…
…but they were making slaves.
If the Senator was truly in touch with the President and this was what the government had planned under martial law for the American people, then the world he had known was truly dead. The very pretty Airman Second Class named Valerie Gomez strode up to him. She always looked impeccable in her uniform despite its lack of washing and her closely cropped hair set off her Native American features beautifully.
“The fort is broadcasting, sir,” she said.
“Right on schedule,” he said with a sigh. She nodded, her keen eyes reading his expression.