Zomblog 05: Snoe's War (15 page)

“These people are going to want you to prove who you are, tell them enough, but don’t give them anything important, you feel me?” he whispered.

Actually, I didn’t. I had no clue what he could be trying to say. How could I tell these people anything important? I was about as far out of the loop as a person could be when it came to the NAA, and I seriously doubted that anything I could say about the Corridor would be useful.

“I mean…” he glanced around as if to ensure that we were still being ignored, “don’t give them any personal information.”

I still wasn’t following. And obviously it was all over my face because Taylor sighed.

“Listen, a lot of these outlying communities have nothing when it comes to anything valuable, to them, information is priceless. Storytellers are like rock stars to these people. If you are going to give them information, get something in return.”

I understood most of what he was saying; I would ask about rock stars later.

“…Miss Gainey?” a female voice snapped me back to what was going on around me. It was the one introduced as Rhonda Hopkins. She was leaning forward and giving me a very intense stare.

Since I had missed what had just been said, I simply folded my hands on the table and stared back. After a second, I arched an eyebrow hoping that it came off as stern…but not mean.

“Very well,” Rhonda said with a sigh and leaned back. “Then perhaps you can at least give us one thing to confirm this claim, it is not like you are the first person to make the allusion that you are the daughter of Sam and Meredith.”

“Well,” I tried to bite back my agitation, but I doubt it worked, “why would I want that kind of hassle to begin with? I don’t know what you think…or what you might believe, but being the daughter of those two has been nothing but a pain for most of my life. I have spent every single minute under some sort of microscope while people wait to see which parent I will end up like. Will I be the selfless helper that so many see my father as, or will I be the selfish, heartless bitch that people claim my mother to be?”

At some point, I had gotten to my feet. I felt my face warm as I blushed and was surprised once more when the comforting hand on my back belonged to Taylor. I sat down and bit the inside of my cheek to try and get my feelings back under control.

“My apologies,” Rhonda said with what sounded like sincerity. “I need nothing further. Nobody except the real Snoe Gainey would wish for her true identity to
not
be known.”

I was becoming more confused by the minute and pray that someday I will be able to go back and look at this entry and have it make sense. I hate to admit it, but this is when I really feel like I am a child. All of the adults are sitting around and nodding and I feel lost. Taylor has a satisfied smirk on his face and I am sure that he feels like he had something to do with my response.

The rest of the meeting was like any other negotiation. We asked for stuff, they asked for stuff and then both sides came to realistic agreements.

When they left, Rhonda stopped and took my hands in hers. “I apologize for my demands, but if you ever wish to share some of your stories with my people, we will gladly reward you with an abundance of hospitality.”

I guess when you have nothing to offer in the way of material things, kindness and goodness is your best form of currency.

The rest of the day involved the people from our train as well as over two hundred people who just walked out of the woods that lined the tracks literally at the snap of Shawn Forrester’s fingers. As I got ready for bed, the crews were still working.

Thursday, March 26
^th

We are moving again. It actually took until late into the day before the tracks were cleared. Twice, some of the people came down to where I was working and just stood there staring. It was a little uncomfortable. Mary laughed and started coming over every so often to dab my forehead with a rag.

I eventually grew tired of that game and told her to knock it off. When I asked her why my lugging rocks like everybody else was such a big deal, she just laughed some more.

Selina was nowhere to be found and I was stunned when I discovered that she had volunteered to go with the perimeter patrols and keep an eye out for any walkers. As for Betty, she was right in there with me and never once made fun.

As we started rolling, a crowd lined the tracks. I would guess that there were at least five hundred people seeing us off. If I ever had any doubts about keeping my heritage to myself, this sealed it for good.

I honestly do not understand.

Saturday, March 27
^th

We reached Irony yesterday and it is unlike any place I have ever seen in my life. For one, the main part of the city is up on a huge plateau at least a hundred feet tall. Then there are the outlying residences. The trees are full of homes and bridges that lead from one to the other.

And the hills that surround the plateau are dotted with watch towers that provide a full three-sixty of protection. The slopes are all gardens…or, I should say, are all greenhouses that are full of gardens. This place has windmills as well as water-powered turbines that provide power to the community.

Also, they have guns. To be specific, these are muzzle-loaded, black powder rifles, but still…guns.

They have a lab and a hospital that are far and away beyond anything that I have ever seen in my life. And then there is the military base.

Set apart from the actual community are a few dozen Quonset huts on a smaller plateau that you can see from the southern tip of Irony. As we pulled in, we saw all sorts of small groups involved in what I had to assume was training. They were running with packs that looked like they weighed at least fifty pounds and climbing walls, fences and all manner of obstacles. It was certainly nothing like EEF training.

When we pulled in, there was a large group of people at the platform to meet us. I could tell as soon as we stepped off the train that everybody (at least the ones I could see) was happy with the absence of Dominique.

Once again I was confused. If all of these people hated her so badly, why didn’t anybody take her down? I cannot fathom why they would tolerate being controlled by a person they so obviously hated. After all, she was just one person.

That was when the commotion ended the happy arrival.

A group of thirty men (I eventually was able to count them, but at the moment it just seemed like lots) were being dragged down to the town square of Irony. Right away, William and a few others stepped in front of me like they were trying to protect me. I had to push through to see and imagine that, once they decided the threat was not to me, they allowed me to actually see what was happening.

“Members of The Genesis Brotherhood,” a woman read from a piece of paper—I will get back to that later—as the group of men were all forced to their knees in a tight group, “you have been found guilty of crimes against humanity. Your actions are punishable by death. Do you have any final words?”

“Under whose authority do you act?” one of the men spoke. “I act under the authority of the Almighty God and I can assure you that my death here in the physical world will be nothing when I am given the keys to paradise.”

“You better hope you’re right,” somebody from the gathered crowd shouted.

“The president will have all of your—” another of the men kneeling started, but was cut off.

“Dominique DuBois is dead,” William announced. “Her reign of terror is over.”

This brought quite a response from all those who heard. And that is when the shooting started. Here is what I know as I sit in this tower with fires burning all around.

It would seem that William and Major Carson both sent messages ahead to the people in their faction. Interestingly enough, both sides had little in the way of a time advantage. Our messenger reached William’s people at about the same time that theirs did, and our train arrived less than twenty minutes later.

The NAA is split—although Dominique’s faction is much smaller—and there is now a fight for control. This does not look like it will be a long war since most everybody on both sides seems to be here. The only person whose whereabouts are unknown is the mysterious Major Carson.

I was rushed back inside the train at first until I insisted that I was very capable of handling my own in a fight. Betty just happened to be at my side when I said this and vouched for my abilities. It would seem I am not the only famous person present.

At some point, I was grouped up with a dozen soldiers and sent down to the military barracks. When I arrived, I saw a lot of familiar faces. I only wish I had time to enjoy the reunion. The best thing was that there was no question which side these people were on. I guess when it is all over, I will have to deal with however many of them I sent to their deaths.

I explained the situation and told them that we were fighting for everything we believed in. I don’t recall every word that I said, and I wish I could. Not that it was anything like the speech that President Jenifer Emory gave several months ago, but it was enough to get people to rally behind us and join in the fight.

Of course there were more people that I didn’t recognize than those I did, and they joined in as well. I have no idea if my words inspired them or they just wanted a chance to get back home. Honestly, I didn’t care as long as we were able to win this fight.

As I sit here now and look at what has become of Irony, I cannot help but feel a sense of guilt. It’s not that I think this is all about me or anything like that, but what if I would have just gone along? Would Mama Lindsay still be alive? How about Phaedra?

My eyes scan the plateau and I try to imagine this place as Sam and Meredith arrived. I try to picture where the house would be that they stayed. I wonder if it is burning, or if maybe it has been replaced by something bigger. This place has certainly changed since the day that Meredith and those women took off for Portland…

And that brings me to another thought…if not for that night, would she have heard the transmission from Vegas? Would she have gone on that particular adventure?

I have heard it said (by some people who I usually consider very smart) that everything is intertwined. They say things like how a butterfly can flap its wings and cause a rainstorm a thousand miles away.

I can barely see the page anymore. The glow from the fires below are not all that conducive to being able to see. I have more rattling around in my head…but I doubt it would be all that interesting.

Sunday, March 28
^th

Betty and I are now in charge of like fifty kids between the ages of twelve and eighteen. For some stupid reason, William and his inner-circle think that they (and by extension me) are too young for the fight for Irony. Interesting that he was on the detail responsible for many of these kids’ capture. They were all being trained as soldiers, yet now they no longer qualify?

How does that make any sense?

We moved to the eastern ridge that encompasses Irony and set up a line. It didn’t take long for us to see our first action. A group of soldiers were sneaking through the grass just below us. Since I had no way of being able to tell which side they were on, we had to wait until they acted.

When they fired a volley of flaming arrows at one of the buildings, I had my answer. I sent word down the line that we were going to take these people out. A moment later, I would be sharing my nightmares of the first living person I ever killed with all those who had been assigned to me, but I saw something else in those faces as well. Pride. It would never be said that they did not do their part (however small) in the war.

I went down and checked all the bodies to ensure that they were all dead and discovered a single survivor. He had three arrows in him; the worst one was in a spot where I was pretty sure it had pierced a lung. Blood bubbled on his mouth and his breath came in a weak, wheezing rattle.

He asked for water. I gave him a drink and he closed his eyes with a pained look on his face…then he shuddered and died. I looked up just in time to a see another group of soldiers moving in from the south. They were following the stream and making a point to try and stay hidden from view. I had to figure them to be hostile considering where they came from. And since they were just arriving on the scene, I had to figure them to be Major Carson and his men.

I called for a group of volunteers to join me. I explained that I was going to move down the hill. If I could get to these people and maybe take Carson down…or (and I find this to be the least likely of possible outcomes) capture him, perhaps we can put an end to the fighting.

I was a little surprised when I explained my plan and then called for volunteers as every single one of them stepped forward. I decided to split our group in half. Mary took one group and I took the other with Betty. (I have not seen Selina since shortly after we arrived and feel terrible that she was apparently lost in the shuffle and chaos that came with our arrival.)

We did not make an elaborate plan, it was simply a matter of getting on either side of these incoming people and raining arrows down into their midst. I gave Mary a hug and we went our separate ways. I could sense as well as see the varying degrees of fear and excitement on the faces of those with me. We were actually in a war!

I think I warred for a while with that idea over the past few days, but there really is no other way to look at what is taking place here in Irony right now. And the interesting thing to me is the amount of damage that the city has taken in these first few days. Why would you destroy something that you want to keep? After all, I have to assume that both sides want this place. After seeing it, I have to tell you that if you have never been here, you must make an attempt. Maybe I will suggest that when this is all over and the last of Dominique’s people are gone. They should run the train from here down the gorge so that people can see what we are capable of when we work together.