New World Order (16 page)

“Yeah.”

He pulled the pants out from under
the folded t-shirt, and as he did he waved a hand in front of his nose. “They do need a good wash after your time on the road.” He smiled conspiratorially, unfolded the pants and held up the label inside the waistband for me to see. “It says ‘Issued to Captain Jack Kenner, United States Army’ with the numbers 32W and 34L. I’m wondering, though, how you happened to find a pair of pants with your
name on them.”

I almost did a head slap. Of course the clothes were labeled. With so many uniforms sent to the Pit for washing, it was the best way to ensure a uniform made it back to the person it had been replicated for. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to disclose our existence just yet. Were these people a threat to us? Probably not. There looked to be only a few hundred people living in the compound,
more if I included the ones I’d seen in the old city on the way here, and none had demonstrated any remarkable skills in intelligence or military training. Except for Ryder. He might be someone to watch out for.

“I changed my name to Jack Kenner after I found the clothes. I mean, c’mon, there’s no United States Army anymore.”

He raised his eyebrows as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him.
“It’s a good name,” he said. “Where’d you learn to read?”

“My parents taught me.” Then I turned the questions back on him, wanting to get off the topic of me. “How about you? Where did you learn to read?”

“My dad,” he said with pride. He stood up and walked the few steps to the bookcase, running his fingers across the spines. “He always told me that it would be an educated man who would rise
up to lead what was left of humanity, just like his father had always told him.” With the toe of his worn leather boot, he touched an old beat-up plastic bin in the corner next to the bookcase. “Believe it or not, this container has been in my family since the War. It’s where they kept their most prized possessions—books.”

“So your family kept books on how to make plastic?”

He turned around
to look at me. “No. They kept these books,” he said, running his hand along some well-worn paperbacks. The only titles I could make out were
Jane Eyre
and the Holy Bible
.
He returned to his chair. “Today, it’s extremely rare to find a book still intact. In fact, it’s extremely rare to find written pages that are still legible. So when I discovered the first of the scriptures, I knew it meant something.”

“Scriptures?”

He smiled charismatically, leaned forward in his chair, and pushed a book on the table toward me. I looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was playing me somehow. A book was harmless though, and the historian in me was intrigued. I picked it up and examined it. It wasn’t really a “book”—more like a collection of different pieces of books, all in varying sizes and
hand stitched together. I thumbed through it. The pages bore either footers or headers identifying their origin: the Qur’an, the Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Old Testament… on and on it went, a collection of various religious works.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “The Bible was always important to our family, and my father raised me to believe in one God. That we
needed to praise Him and look to Him for guidance to our salvation.” He shook his head with a sad smile. “But then I watched my mother die in childbirth and a few years later witnessed my youngest sister raped by a group of men.” He paused and shifted his gaze to his clasped hands. “Those same men roasted my father over a fire for their dinner and all I could think was, ‘Where is your God now?’”

My eyes widened as he told his story. I was speechless. Could something that horrible be true?

“I’m sorry,” I said. “No one should have to live through that.” I refrained from asking the one piece of information he didn’t give: what had happened to him while the men raped his sister and ate his father?

He waved a hand as if to brush away my condolences. “Everyone has a story, right? My
childhood isn’t so different from others.” He shrugged. “But it was a turning point in my life. My father was gone, they took my sister, and they left me for dead. When I was finally able, I set out into the world, leaving behind the only home I’d ever known. A few weeks later I found the first scripture. A month after that, I found the next one. And soon I put it all together, Jack. The gods had
chosen
me
to lead the people to their salvation. My father had been right.”

I was probably going to regret asking, but my curiosity was piqued. “God
s
?” I asked, emphasizing the
s
.

Ryder looked at the book I was holding. “It’s right there in your hands, printed in black and white. Before the War, people worshipped many gods. Jehovah, Allah, Jesus Christ, God, Buddha.” He paused, his molten-brown
eyes boring into mine. “Do you want to know why there was a global war, Jack? Because people back then decided
which
god they wanted to worship and ignored the others. It created jealousy and discord among the gods, and they used their worshippers to destroy the worshippers of their fellow deities.” He held his hand out for the book, and I passed it back to him. “The only way people can live in
harmony is if the gods are living in peace. It’s up to us to make that happen.”

As an avid historian, I was well aware of the practice of making up theories to fill in information gaps. And as a former citizen of the Holt regime, I was also very well aware of how history could be revised to suit the goals of a crazed dictator. I was willing to bet Father Ryder was the only person in this entire
city who could read and that he was the only one making up the rules on behalf of the gods.

“So you’re the chosen one? The one the gods have picked to spread their… um… harmony?” I asked, genuinely interested. It was like getting a glimpse inside the mind of a madman.

He appeared pleased with my question and relaxed into his chair. “Think about it, Jack. How else could the gods talk to us
but through the written word?” His brow creased into a challenging expression as he looked at me, but I didn’t respond. I knew it was a rhetorical question. “Reading is a skill that is all but extinct, so what are the odds that someone able to
read
would be the one to find the Scriptures? Slim, Jack. The odds are slim. And do you know what the first message in the Scriptures was?” This time he
paused, his brows raised expectantly, waiting for my answer.

“I can’t even imagine,” I said.

“That men were not created to live as individuals.” He leaned forward again, his eyes bright with excitement. “The message was so simple I almost overlooked it. Alone we’re vulnerable to the forces of evil.” He gestured toward the window. “But together, as a
community
, we’re strong. When fear doesn’t
rule our lives, when our energies can be used to create instead of simply to survive, our lives are meaningful and rich. Here, we no longer live in fear of men whose hearts are still black with poison; we live in peaceful unity. That’s why I send out missionaries to gather the lost and the downtrodden and bring them back here.”

This man was dangerous. “And by missionaries, do you mean recruiters?
Men like Hollywood—excuse me, I mean
Ralph
—who travel the countryside shooting people and raping women and little boys? Who capture and starve people, then chop them up for bear meat or throw them to the tigers when they die? Who eat their captives
themselves
when there’s no rodent around? You mean
those
missionaries?
Those
representatives of the gods?”

As I spoke, his smile slowly fell until
he was frowning. He fixed his gaze on me yet didn’t answer my question. I realized I might have pushed him beyond his limits of sanity; but I was beginning to wonder if I hadn’t been pushed beyond mine as well. A week and a half of being starved, denied water, and forced to witness the atrocities of these so-called missionaries was too much.

He put his hands on the Scriptures sitting in front
of him. “I wasn’t aware of this kind of behavior among my missionaries. Raping young boys, you say? And cannibalism? I assure you, these are not things that we tolerate. I promise you, Jack, I’ll check into it.” He drummed two fingers on the book. “In the meantime, I’d like to learn more about where you come from. Ralph tells me there were two others with you who both got away.”

I kept my face
expressionless. “Two women,” I said, knowing women weren’t much valued here.

“Your wives? Or did they belong to the other men you were with?”

“What are you getting at, Ryder?” I asked, tiring of this little game.

“Please. Everyone calls me Father.”

“I already have one of those. I don’t need another one.”

“Is he alive? Does he live with you?”

“None of your business.”

“I’m just trying
to be your friend, Jack. Learn more about you and your people.”

“Who says I have people?”

“You don’t? Then where did you get the clothes? The gun? The wives that ran away?”

This was going to go on all night if I didn’t give him something. So why not tell him? “You’re too smart for me, Ryder. I’ll tell you the truth.” I sighed heavily and pointed to the pile of my clothes. “I really am Captain
Jack Kenner, and those clothes were custom replicated for me. The rifle Hollywood confiscated was also replicated, although we have other more sophisticated weapons at our disposal, including nuclear warheads. Only one of the two people that ran away was my wife because I only have one wife, and not just because she’d kill me if I went near another woman. You see, I come from a society that
survived the War living inside a secret government biodome, and we still live by the old customs.”

Ryder didn’t say anything right away but just regarded me with a stoic expression. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “We’re getting off to a bad start,” he said. “I’d like to be your friend, Jack. I understand you’re new here and all this must seem very strange to you, but once you
come to realize the rewards of belonging to a community, you’ll understand that what we’re doing is for the benefit of all men. Perhaps a good night’s sleep will help.” He raised his voice. “Fadi!” The door opened, and Fadi came in. Ryder motioned for him to take me. “Please escort Mr. Kenner back to his room. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jack.”

Fadi tied my wrists behind my back again, and I was
marched through the kitchen. Outside, the sun was getting low and the shadows long. I shivered against the chill after being in the warmth of the house.

Fadi opened the shed door and pushed me through. I was surprised to see that the only one in the shed was the seven-year-old girl. She was still crouched in the corner looking terrified.

Separated from Naoki and Talon and left with a little
girl to protect, I wondered how the hell I was supposed to escape now.

Sunny

We stopped for a quick lunch on our way to the river. I wanted to make sure Summer ate and drank well before she went back into the raft. Plus, I was starving and thirsty again, which kind of confused me. Most pregnant women I had known complained of nausea during the first few weeks
and couldn’t keep anything down. But not me. I just wanted to eat, drink, pee, and sleep.

We chose a spot for our picnic beside a stony mountain wall so we could sit with our backs against it. After seeing all the tracks left behind by the recruiting party, not to mention the piles of tiger dung, the forest didn’t seem so lonely anymore.

“Are you sure you still want to go after them?” Reyes
asked me. “Looks like there’s a lot more recruiters than we originally thought.”

I took my packet of mush away from my mouth and swallowed. I understood his hesitation to continue. The sheer number of carts and boot tracks they’d left behind was indication enough that we were far outnumbered. But Jack and I had been outnumbered before and still come out the victors. We were just going to have
to be smart about it.

“I’ve come this far. I’m not turning back,” I said. I scanned the faces of our small group. “But I understand if no one else wants to come with me.”

“I told Dena I would bring our men home, and that’s what I plan to do,” Jin-Sook said.

“Me too,” Eli chimed in. “I won’t abandon my people after all they’ve done for me.”

Summer sighed heavily. “As much as I hate that
stupid raft, I’m staying with Sunny.”

Reyes nodded once as if to say
it’s settled then
.

“How far to the river from here?” I asked.

Eli thought about it for a moment. “A couple of hours, I think.”

“We should get moving,” I said. “They still have four days on us.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re four days ahead of us,” Eli said. “Like I told you before, they’re a slow-moving group
that makes frequent stops to hunt for recruits. We’ll need to start keeping a closer watch or we just might end up passing them.” He looked at Reyes and me. “Especially the way you two handle that boat.”

When we finished eating, we began our hike to the river. Summer, Reyes and I tried to glide through the forest as silently as Eli and Jin-Sook and strained to listen for any sounds that would
alert us to approaching danger. I tried not to dwell too much on the tigers, but they kept creeping into my thoughts. Eli said the big cats liked to trail recruiting parties looking for handouts, but he also said “handouts” were dead bodies. By my logic, that meant in order to become a meal a recruit would already have to be dead, and since Jack had been injected with Doc’s molecular nano-cocktail,
there was every reason to believe he was still alive. I was sure of it. The alternative was unimaginable, and I refused to let my mind wander there. And not just for me. I still wasn’t sure if our baby could hear my thoughts.

Don’t worry, little guy. Your dad is incredibly smart and knows how to survive. Plus—and you may have overheard this at Doc’s lab—he has life-saving nanobots making up
part of his DNA. There’s no possible way he can die. So we just have to find him and bring him home.

Home. I yearned for its familiarity just as much as I was relieved to be away from it. For the past ten months, Jack and I had been happy living in our home with our extended family; but without his presence filling it, the house felt empty. I didn’t want to go back there without Jack, yet if
I didn’t find him, what choice did I have? The only civilization we had seen during our almost two full days of travel consisted of four ransacked houses and two people who had been tortured and killed. So I couldn’t very well live in the forest on my own, hiding from murderers while I foraged for radioactive food. It wasn’t just me I had to worry about anymore. I had the little guy too.