Gone to Ground (14 page)

Opening his eyes again, he looked back at Maggie still seated at the table. “I tried to stop them. I grabbed the gun from the man nearest me, but it made no difference. And I just couldn’t bring myself to open fire on my comrades myself. When it was all said and done, nine people died, including five children, and I was reassigned to a job at a security post in the APZ for my refusal to follow orders.

“They couldn’t just let me go, see. I knew too much. So I was kept under close surveillance but also given a job to do while they waited to see how badly I was broken.” He took a deep breath before he continued, and Maggie realized again how much recounting this story was costing him emotionally.

“While I was working there, in a place they called the Nursery, where all the orphaned children were kept and taught the new green gospel, I met a young girl named Christina. Her father had been a sociologist before he was killed for ‘inciting a riot.’ Since I was the only one manning the security station, I was often able to visit her while she was being kept in isolation for talking about what she’d learned from her father. It was there that I started to realize how far the governmental conspiracy to control us really went.

“You see, I had believed the story that people needed to be gathered together in order to make sure that everything was distributed fairly. That the social order would break down quickly in the face of a disaster of such magnitude. After all, there have been stories of other disasters and the looting and crime that followed. It seems, however that some of that has been blown out of proportion. Back at the beginning of the 21
st
century, the government took on a ‘command and control policy’ toward disaster management, actually making FEMA part of Homeland Security. This action turned disaster response into a more militaristic operation than it had ever been before, even when the disaster had nothing to do with the military, terrorists or anything of that type.”

Maggie was watching him carefully now. She remembered 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina, and all the other weather related disasters that followed. She also remembered studying in school how following 9/11 the community of New York had organized evacuations and searches, but how during Hurricane Katrina many people had died due to the failure of the social structure.

“The president at the time said that the results of research following Hurricane Katrina indicated that the command and control method was the optimum way to handle a disaster of this scale. According to Christina’s father, though, many sociologists thought that the administration at the time had reached the wrong conclusion from the research: Had interpreted it incorrectly. Christina said that her father and others believed that it was better to provide outside assistance to the small communities, because they felt the research showed that these communities could help and heal themselves much more effectively than if the government came in and took over. Sure, it would have been difficult to reach everyone considering how widely spread this disaster was, but in many scientists’ opinions that would have been preferable to the APZs. Her father was talking out against concentration when he was gunned down.” O’Reilly stopped, head bowed, then looked up at Maggie again, obviously almost at the breaking point.

“She was such a brave little girl. She reminded me so much of my daughter.” He stopped, unable to go on.

Maggie’s eyes opened wide in shock and she wanted to ask him a thousand questions, but knew it wasn’t the time. Soon, but not now with the wounds on his spirit so freshly torn open. So instead she simply asked, “What happened to Christina?”

“She’s still at the APZ. It was a miracle I got out without being captured, and who knew what I would find when I got here. I couldn’t expose her to that. At least at the APZ she’s fed and clothed and has a roof over her head. Medical care if she needs it. She’s smart. She’ll learn to play the game.”

“Was it what Christina told you that made you decide to run?”

“No, though that was part of it. I started to realize that much of what we’d been doing was wrong, though I still believed that the administration had just simply deluded itself into believing that this was the only way to handle things. Government agencies are good at that you know; putting on blinkers and not evaluating other ideas. Only moving forward on the one in front of them.

“No, what really pushed me into moving was a shear accident. I received an interdepartmental envelope one day, originating from Central Control. It should have been a census of children staying at the APZ, but somehow a copy of a set of memos from the Chinese government, the British government, and several others had become mixed in with the census pages. Somebody in the Central Control office screwed up royally. These memos all outlined the progress their countries were making with consolidating their populations and returning land to its original condition.

“These memos made it clear that the APZs were here to stay. That the governments never considered them temporary. They only used that line to convince the people to go. Anyone who tried to rise up against the new control was to be disposed of discreetly.”

Maggie was shaking her head, wondering what was wrong with her. Why hadn’t she seen this coming?

“See, the authorities felt that with the population drastically reduced and demoralized, it would be easier to convince them of the necessity of sacrifice, just for survival’s sake. Of course no one is complaining that they don’t have their ATVs, their TVs, their SUVs. Hell, they’re just happy to be alive, fed and sheltered. History’s filled with accounts of people doing things they normally wouldn’t consider doing when faced with survival challenges. Think of the Donner party, or that plane crash in the Andes when people ate their companions in order to survive.

“Then there are the children. For some reason the bad vaccine wasn’t as dangerous for the children, though many still died. Not as many as the adults, though. So many were orphaned and these children will be taught the way the government wants them taught. One might even say brainwashed. They’re so much more vulnerable to that because of the emotional trauma they’ve suffered. The government estimates that within a couple of generations no one will even consider living outside the APZ as a desirable goal. Hell, within a hundred years or so, they might even have the population convinced that living outside the APZ is tantamount to suicide.

“But what about elections?” Maggie asked, frustrated at the image that O’Reilly painted of a world so drastically altered. “We have a democracy. They won’t have a hundred years, or even several generations in order to make this happen. The next election should start to bring balance back to the government if they go overboard.”

“They have plans for that too. Don’t think they forgot that. I don’t know everything, but I do know they wouldn’t be foiled by something as simple as an election and a change in administration. They’ll get around that, I’m sure. Just the judicious use of the correct type of propaganda in the right places might be all it takes. Much of Hitler’s ability to stir Germany into the atrocities it carried out during World War II was simply due to propaganda applied at the right time in the right places.”

“So, that was it? That was what made you decide to risk running?” Maggie asked finally after contemplating O’Reilly’s last statement.

“Yeah. I realized that this thing was so big, there was nothing I could do about it. But I wouldn’t be a part of it any more, so I made a plan and escaped. The problem is that they know I know what’s going on, and they may not want to take the chance of my spreading the information and trying to instigate a revolution among the ghosts.”

“You’re not, though.” Maggie said, confused. “You came here by yourself, not to spread anything.”

“I came here to think, probably to stay, but they can’t know that. I only hope that I hid my tracks well enough on my escape that they’re currently looking for me anywhere between Laughlin and Alaska.

O’Reilly stopped, bowed his head and sank down on the end of the couch. Maggie, mind whirling from all the information he’d given her, rose to her feet and walked over toward him. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder.

Looking up into her eyes, he said, “I don’t think they’ll be able to trace me here. It’s too remote. No one in Laughlin knew me, or anything about my past, but I know they’ll want to find me. That’s why I insisted on the caves. If things get bad, you are to take Mark and Lindy and go to the caves. I’ll turn myself in. They won’t suspect that you’re here.”

“No, O’Reilly, I don’t...”

“Maggie stop and think. They won’t just take you back. Lindy and Mark maybe, depending on what they see, but not you. I didn’t plan on ever having anyone depend on me again. I don’t want anyone to depend on me.” The raw pain in his voice tore at Maggie’s heart. “But here we are, and you’ve got to think about both the kids. Give me your promise that if they come, you’ll protect them.”

Maggie considered for a moment, then said, “I’ll promise if you’ll promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If they come, you won’t give yourself up right away. You’ll come to the caves with us and we’ll hope that they believe that we heard them coming and escaped before they got there. Only if they stay, or come toward the caves will you give yourself up.”

“Maggie...”

“That’s the only way I’ll give you my promise.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what, buster.”

The knot of his features loosened slightly and a ghost of a smile played around his lips at her pugnacious tone. “Okay, I promise that surrender won’t be my first action and I’ll only do it if it appears our hideout will be found.”

“It’s a deal then,” Maggie stated with a false level of confidence in her voice. “And it won’t matter anyway because no one is going to come out here into the middle of nowhere looking for you. Now, me and the little lady here need to hit the hay. We’ve got a slave driver for a partner and he doesn’t let us sleep in.”

The ghost of a smile became more pronounced.

Maggie bent to pick up the little girl who immediately snuggled into her chest and tucked her head under Maggie’s chin without waking. Turning, Maggie began to walk toward her room. “Go to bed O’Reilly. No nightmares tonight.”

“Maggie?” the note of pleading in his voice was so unexpected that she jerked to a stop and turned to face him. He looked at her, his dark, haunted eyes drawing her in like a whirlpool.

“Do you hate me for what I did? I’d understand, but I was only doing what I thought was right at the time.”

“Go to bed Jim.” Maggie said softly, gently. “I understand that you were misled. I don’t hate you, I only wish I had your courage.”

Maggie turned back and entered her room, closing the door behind her.

Silence once agai
n laid claim to the main room of the house. The gentle susurration of the nighttime breezes, the frogs, the crickets. In the distance, on the plateau, he heard a coyote yip-howl, only to be answered by several more seconds later. All the sounds that O’Reilly had grown up with and thought of as normal. All those same sounds that seemed so alien and terrifying to so many people born and raised in the middle of the big cities.

If the governments of the world had their way, in a generation, maybe two or three, nearly everyone on the planet would find these sounds strange and fear inspiring. The idea of a world full of people who didn’t know or understand nature, whose idea of getting to know the wilderness was a form of reverse zoo, where the spectators were kept safe in cages while the rest of the world went on around them, terrified him.

O’Reilly remained seated on the couch, staring at Maggie’s closed door. Thinking.
You have more courage than I’ll ever possess, Maggie Langton.

16

Rickards was talking wi
th Deputy Knox in his office when a rap on the door announced the arrival of Christina Craigson. Dismissing Knox, Rickards rose to greet the young girl, inviting her to sit in the large chair opposite the desk.

“Well, young lady, I appreciate your coming down this morning to help us out.” Rickards smiled at her. “Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No thank you, Captain, but I’d be happy to look at those maps now.”

Rickards studied Christina unobtrusively. She was dressed neatly, her brown hair brushed tightly back into a pony tail and her face free of the makeup that used to mark the teenagers of world just prior to the disease and reorganization. She appeared nervous, but that was to be expected, being called down to his office and all. Most kids would be uncomfortable spending time at the Enforcers’ headquarters, even though she had volunteered.

She’d made big advances since coming to the APZ. When she’d been brought into the Nursery she’d been an angry, argumentative little thing, spouting off about her father and what he’d taught her.
Those weeks in the isolation chamber have certainly done her good,
he thought, nodding to himself.

The only sour note from his interview yesterday was her story of O’Reilly telling her that he planned on moving to the mountains once everything was over. O’Reilly knew this wasn’t a temporary situation. He wasn’t supposed to know, but he did. Why would he tell her that he might be moving after everyone was released from the APZs. Unless, of course, it was just a story that you told children to help them feel more comfortable. That was probably it.

Rickards had reread the reports on Christina Craigson last night, noting her refusal to follow the program and buy in to the new order of things when first brought to the APZ. She’d been isolated from other residents, as well as her brothers, since it was deemed that the information she kept repeating was of a sensitive and possibly inflammatory  nature, and it was necessary to first disabuse her of the validity of that knowledge. It had apparently worked, since there had been no reports of anything other than behavior worthy of a model citizen since her release from isolation.

He remembered a line in the file stating that she was making frequent requests to spend time with her brothers. Twins, six years younger than her. Neither had caused a problem during their stay at the Nursery.
Well, we’ll see how she does today, and maybe that request can be granted.

“I’m sure you’d like to get out of here, Miss Craigson, so we’ll get moving as quickly as possible. Lets get some maps out here on the table that you can look at. You said north of here?”

“Yes, sir. He talked about places like Wyoming, Montana, sometimes Canada, and once even as far as Alaska. He said he liked wild lonely places with lakes and lots of trees.” Christina looked up at him, wide-eyed and helpful. “He talked about the place he’d like to buy and said that it was near a small town so he could get groceries and such. I’m sure the name he said started with the ‘s’ sound. I’m sure I’ll remember the name when I see it in writing.”

Christina started to rise and walk over toward the table that Rickards had indicated. From a cabinet under the large bank of windows, Rickards hoisted a large box of maps and scattered them on the flat surface so that Christina could look them over.

The girl started flipping through the different maps, looking for ones depicting Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Alaska and the western Canadian provinces. When she found one of those, she set it to the right side of the table. Other maps she carelessly set on the left side, out of the way. Once she had examined all of the available maps, she went back to her right hand stack and started opening them one at a time, and looked through the indexes cross referencing with the locator coordinates.

Finally, on the third map she was looking at she exclaimed, “Here it is. It’s name is Shelby” Christina pointed excitedly to a small spot on a Montana map.

“You’re sure that’s it?” Rickards said, looking puzzled.

“Yes, I’m completely sure. That’s the place he talked about.” Christina was so excited at being able to find the correct location that she began to spin about, hugging herself. Rickards stepped back, watching the girl, smiling ironically at her joy, thinking how easy it had been to get her to give up her hero. If, of course the place she indicated was really where O’Reilly headed. There was something about that spot. He wasn’t sure what, but as soon as she left, he’d have to find someone who knew Montana and ask him to look at Christina’s pick.

Suddenly, in a flood of exuberance, Christina flung out her arms, accidentally knocking all the maps from the left side of the table, the ones she’d discarded, onto the floor, scattering them everywhere. Christina stopped abruptly and looked guiltily at Rickards.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I’ll pick them up right away. Please don’t be mad.” Christina knelt to the floor and began gathering all the maps into a pile, crawling under the table, and into the space between a large chair and the wall. As Rickards stooped to help her she became even more agitated.

“Please sir, don’t help me. I can do it myself. It was my fault. Please, please let me do it!” she stammered, gathering the maps even more quickly. Rickards, stood up, and took a step back, watching her as she scrambled to gather all the pieces of paper and pack them into the box.

“It’s fine, Miss Craigson. Don’t worry yourself. Accidents happen.” Rickards spoke in as calming a tone as possible.
Girls are such mercurial things,
he thought to himself.
All excited and giddy one moment and half in tears the next. God save me from too many more teenage girls. I may not survive. Or they won’t.
Rickards turned his back on Christina, grimacing to himself as he walked back to his desk.

Sitting, he waited as Christina picked up the last of the maps from the floor, placed them in the cardboard box and set it on the table. Then she turned toward him, a question on her face.

“Is there anything else you want me to do, Captain Rickards?” Meek voice, apparently shattered by her accident.

“No, Christina, just come and sit down here a moment.” As Christina moved to obey, Rickards opened a desk drawer and withdrew a chocolate bar, a valuable commodity in a community where candy was hard to come by.

“Here you go, young lady. I certainly appreciate your help in this matter. Finding Officer O’Reilly is immensely important as I told you.”

Christina accepted the candy bar, thanking Rickards politely, then tucking it into one of her many pockets. Rickards was surprised, expecting her to eat it immediately.
Maybe she’s taking it to share with her friends in the Nursery, though. She seems like such a nice, polite child.

“Christina, I see in your file that you’ve been asking to spend more time with your brothers.” At the mention of her brothers, Christina snapped to attention, fathomless blue eyes fixing intently on Rickards. For a moment he had the disquieting feeling that the child had changed into another person right before his eyes. Before he could evaluate the change, however, Christina softened again, a glimmer of unshed tears shining in her lower eye lashes.

Momentarily taken aback, Rickards nonetheless persisted with his intention. “I’m thinking that you deserve a reward for the excellent progress you’ve been making these past few weeks. I will speak with the caregivers at the Nursery and arrange for you to spend at least an hour a day with your brothers. Would that make you happy?”

“Oh, yes sir! Nick and Ryan are the only family I have in the whole world, and I want to see them so bad.” One of the tears escaped her eye and trickled down her face where she dashed it away with the back of her right hand. “I can’t thank you enough, really I can’t.” She bounced up from her seat and ran around the desk where she bestowed a huge hug on the captain.

Taken completely by surprise, Rickards patted her hesitantly on the back. “Well then, uh... That’s good... That’s fine then.”

Christina, releasing her hug, returned to her seat, face shining.

“I’ll make the call this afternoon, Miss Craigson.” Rising from his seat, he walked to the office door, beckoning her to follow him. Opening the door he summoned the young caregiver who had escorted Christina to the headquarters. Turning back to the girl,  Rickards again reached out with his hand, taking Christina’s and shaking it.

“Again, I thank you for all your help. You’ve made things much easier for us.”

He watched as Christina, escorted by the caregiver, crossed the floor, leaving by the main double doors at the front of the building. Returning to his office he took the map that Christina had chosen, spread it on his desk, then sat and studied the area that the girl had indicated. Something continued to tickle the back of his mind. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. Just something not right.

He was sure, though the Christina had done her best to help them. No, if there was something wrong in all of this it wasn’t her fault. She had definitely done her best.