Least Likely To Survive (20 page)

His gaze stopped briefly on me, before continuing his sweep.  Damn, it was my first day and already I had been labeled a troublemaker.  It was freshman year of high school all over again.  Jack too, caught Ian’s focus on me, and nudged my shoulder.  I nudged him back out of irritation; it wasn’t my fault I valued my life and didn’t want to part with my guns.  This was America, after all, and we had the right to bear arms.

Ian continued with his spiel, but I tuned him out, and instead studied the backs of heads in front of me.  There were probably about two hundred people in all, and I had to wonder if this was all the civilians here, or if they were doing groups at a time.  It saddened me to think that in a city this big, we were it for survivors.  Especially when so few were kids.

I glanced up at the screen, as the words had changed and skimmed down the bullets.  Nothing too exciting; mostly just reminding us of the off limit areas and not to wander below the third floor unless escorted by a guard.  I did take note of the map, which laid out the areas we were allowed, and mentally recorded the shower rooms, as well as a laundry facility.  The world may be ending, but I was NOT going to be fighting zombies in a Playboy track suit and flip flops.  There were just some things you can’t compromise on in life, and this was one of mine.

Ian droned on about meal times, and curfews and I could feel my eyelids start to droop.  Before they could close all the way, he abruptly clapped his hands to alert us of the next step.  My eyes snapped open, and clearing my throat I sat up straighter and refocused my attention on his next words.

“Now, please take all children under the age of eight over to Betty, where she will escort them to the daycare on the 4
th
level, then proceed in an orderly fashion over to the pillar with a color matching the one on your badges.”  He smiled a pained smile at the audience, as he pointed to a woman standing near the front of the room, and then at the columns.  They way he used his hands to illustrate his words reminded me of a flight attendant, and I wondered briefly if this whole ‘leader of the survivors’ thing didn’t pan out if he knew he had a useful backup skill.

Standing as a group, the four of us looked down at our badges, and up at each other.  We were all purple, and I had to admit my immediate relief that we weren’t being separated.  After assessing our destination, we shuffled out of the row, and made a right, heading deeper into the theater to our assigned column. 

Upon our approach, I caught sight of a new militia man, this one smiling at us with an easy going and good natured grin.  He had to be over six foot, built like a Mack truck, and very easy on the eyes.  As I got closer, I took in his deep dimples, dark brown hair peeking out from under his uniform cap, and hazel eyes twinkling back at us.  He was standing in the relaxed stance of someone calm, but ready to act.  There was no stubble lining his cheeks, and he couldn’t have been more than twenty-one.

Fuck, our team leader was G.I. Joe come to life.  My mood brightened considerably at spending the day with this beautiful man, who would no doubt try to teach me how to find a safe place to hide, or some other macho bullshit like that.  Given his rugged and boyish good looks though, I may just have to oblige.

I glanced over my shoulder to see if Chloe was thinking the same thing I was, and didn’t miss the sparkle in her eye and the coy upturning of her pink mouth.  Her poor adolescent hormones must be going into hyper drive over the amount of attractive men swarming this place.  I could relate though; even though I was light years past puberty, even
I
wasn’t immune to the sight of a beautiful man. 

Shaking my head at the plight of human nature, I glanced around and felt my stomach sink when I saw Nancy with Bob and Riley in tow approaching our pillar.  Fuck my life; I was going to be stuck with Psycho Barbie all day.  For a split second I considered running up to the front of the theater and begging Ian to reassign me to kitchen duty, rather than the fate I had been dealt.  I took a deep breath and steeled my resolve in sticking to my current assignment after I caught sight of Jack.  I couldn’t leave him to the wolves; it just wouldn’t be right.

The group surrounding the column had finally stopped growing, and I quickly took a mental snap shot of faces, and estimated there were about twenty of us in all, but the way we segregated ourselves led me to believe our group was comprised of families, and only about four at that.  Aside from the Wells’, there was a middle-aged Native man with two very tall and beautiful girls about Chloe’s age; an older couple that looked exactly like what I imagined the Wells’ would look like in another 15 years, flanked by four children ranging from late teens to early twenties; another couple that looked like fresh-faced missionaries much younger than me, and a haggard looking Latino woman herding two smaller children.  I cringed at the sight of the little boy and girl; they had to be over eight to be with us, but were so tiny, it seemed impossible.

Once we were all assembled, we turned to G.I. Joe, and waited for instruction.  He smiled again at all of us in what I had to assume was his way of putting us at ease, although his dimples more than his attitude went miles in easing my tension. 

“Hello everyone, my name is Austin Addams, and I’m a Sergeant in the U.S. Marine Corps.”  He paused for a moment, and glanced at a clipboard I finally noticed he was holding.  Looking back up, “We are the Purple Team, and I’ll be your captain here at Safe Area.  I know this must be scary, but if we stick together, we’re going to get through this.”  Smiling that crooked grin at us once more as he made a sweeping pass at each of us, I had to wonder how an Abercrombie model made it into the Marines, but going by the impressive size of his biceps, figured it wasn’t his looks.  His voice didn’t really have an accent, so I pegged him for being from one of the western states, considering I couldn’t really identify accents from that end of the country.  He wasn’t in uniform, just wearing digis, and an olive beater; dog tags dangling from his neck.  If the Marines ever put out a calendar, this guy would be July, hands down.

“Please follow me to the main arena, where we’ll spend some time covering basic training.”  He said this as he started to turn and lead us to the exit at the back of the theater, but didn’t turn to see if we followed.  He must be used to people just falling in line, and I found myself following him without a second thought.

              Chapter 13: Basic Training.             

Like little ducks following their mother, we all trailed behind Austin quietly as we journeyed to the main arena.  Turning the last corridor, we walked through an entrance that opened up into the heart of the auditorium.  The sight was almost too much for me to take in.  I had never been on ground zero of an arena this size before, and massive didn’t even begin to cover it.  We were surrounded by thousands of seats, laid out in neat little rows climbing four stories up, and the floor area was literally the size of a football field. 

Once I was done with my awe over the sheer size of the place, I had the insane urge to race to the middle of the floor and belt out ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ at the top of my lungs.  I bet it would sound fucking amazing in this place.

Shaking myself out of my fantasy, I realized we had stopped in the middle of the floor, which was surrounded by what could only be described as ‘stations’ assembled around the perimeter.  As I looked to each post, I caught sight of various weapons, and dry erase boards, and guessed we would probably be taught something at each station.  “
Damn, whoever dreamed up all this must be an organizational genius,”
I thought to myself approvingly, yet jealous at the same time as I took it all in.  I could handle my own, but this spread put all my lists to shame.

Austin had led us over to a table with various assault rifles laid out and disassembled.  Once he was sure he had our attention, he commenced his lesson.  I didn’t feel it was pertinent for me to know the make and model of each, as long as I knew how to load and fire it, so I paid little attention.  Instead I just watched his lips move, as he picked up each gun, clip and cartridge off the table, showing us all the basic stuff.  I laughed to myself at his redundant instruction; we all made it here, which was proof we had already figured out how to load a gun and  I doubted any of us didn’t know how to shoot or we would be out there; infected with the rest.

Once he concluded his demonstration, he walked us over to the next station, which looked like basic survival: 101.  I continued to pay little to no attention as he demonstrated knot tying, how to use a pocketknife as a can opener, and then delved into the exciting world of assault tactics. 

As the hours crept by, we all learned about staying in groups, head and heart shots, and the importance of never turning your back on an infected, even if you think they’re dead.  It was sort of like The Hunger Games meets every zombie movie ever.  In short: nothing I didn’t already know.

“From here, we’re going to take a one hour break for lunch, before we head to the firing range,” Austin said before turning to lead us back out of the auditorium, and towards the elevators that would take us back to the top level where the restaurants were.

“
Thank God.
” I turned around to look at Ty as he heaved a sigh with his mumbled statement.  “I was so bored I didn’t think that would ever end.  Worse than school.”  He finished his tirade as we fell behind the group.

“I know,” I said in agreement leaning into him as we walked so the others wouldn’t overhear.  “I thought I was going to die of boredom; it felt like I was at some sort of accounting seminar or something.”

Ty fell in step beside me as we walked.  “Why do you think they’re teaching us all this stuff anyway, and don’t they realize we already know pretty much everything that Austin guy told us, seeing as how we’re all here and alive?”  I could see the puzzlement on his face, and I felt my own mouth draw into a frown as I considered the implications.

Surely they weren’t prepping us for search teams?  They would be nuts sending regular people out there to forage for food and supplies.  On the other hand, it wouldn’t be wise to only send military personnel, as surely there would be casualties and they needed them here to guard the flock.

I shuddered internally at my line of reasoning, but had a sneaking suspicion I was on to the something.  It felt pretty sinister, but also maintained a hint of sense the more I thought about it.  This was a new world after all, and all survivors had to be soldiers.  Still, as I looked up ahead at the little kids in our group, a wave of nausea overcame me as I thought about sending them out there for any reason.  This whole thing was sick, and I wasn’t about to take part in it.

“Yeah,” I finally said to him as we walked.  “I tend to agree with you, but let’s talk about it later,” I let him see me dart my eyes to the people around us, hoping he caught my drift.  Apparently he did, as he just nodded his assent, and we continued to follow our group silently.

Reaching the top level, we walked into the now familiar restaurant, and began the process of grabbing trays and picking out our selections, as the four of us branched off from the group and sat at the same table we had sat at that morning.

Once seated, we dug into our lunch, although not one of us said a word.  It was odd to me for our group to be so quiet, but in retrospect, this had been an ongoing theme since our arrival.  I had been so used to the playful banter in the car, that this heavy silence seemed dark and somewhat sad.  It didn’t sit well with me; that was for sure.

Austin came over, and sat down at the empty seat at the end of our table with his tray.  “Hey,” he said with a smile as he assembled his own sandwich.  “So how do you guys like it here so far?” he asked the group, not really addressing anyone in particular.

“Um, it’s okay.  Just kinda weird,” said Chloe with an air of unease.

“Yeah, this is all a little weird, but I think it’s going to be alright, Chloe, was it?” Austin smiled up at her with genuine kindness as he held his now complete sandwich up to his mouth.

“Yeah,” she answered, then pointing to the rest of us, “And that’s Angie, Jack, and my brother, Ty.”  I didn’t miss the way she batted her eyes a little at Austin, and almost burst out laughing.  This girl just could not pass any opportunity to flirt with an attractive male.

Austin smiled as he nodded at the guys, stopping his gaze on me.  “So how did you end up here?  You don’t sound local.”  I knew the question was asked to the group as a whole, but seeing as how he was staring at me, I felt obliged to answer.

“Uh, I’m from Colorado, and I picked Jack up on our way here.  We found the kids not far from Lubbock.”  I answered as vaguely as possible, as I didn’t feel it was wise to give too much away.  The less others knew about my plans, the better.

Austin’s eyes lit up, “Really?  Where at in Colorado?  I’m from Fort Collins,” he shot another heart melting smile at me, complete with dimples, and I felt my walls start to fall.

I cleared my throat, and felt the color race to my cheeks.  “Really?  Cool, I lived in Thornton.”

I dared a glance in Jack’s direction to see if he noticed the blush, but found him staring intently at his plate, seeming to ignore the conversation.  I don’t know why, but that upset me somehow, as I felt like maybe he should be paying attention or something.  I knew that was crazy; there was nothing going on between us, but was still miffed nonetheless over the lack of concern.