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“Finally, ensure we take their ill-gotten goods. Take their trucks and load ’em up with all the weapons, ammo, food… you know what to do.

“So… Now that I’ve sufficiently teased this operation to all of you, I’m sorry to say that we’re sending only one of you.” He put a finger in the air. “One scout and one Guard will perform a more detailed assessment. The scout’s already been picked.”

Thomas looked around the room, but it was only Guards around him.

“He’ll be heading out today around noon with one of you and staying overnight. Soldiers from the Capital and an interrogator will meet with them in the morning. The rendezvous point will be the old EPA building just east of the park at 10:00. The scout team will be expected to have a full report of the camp’s happenings. It will have more details than this initial report.” He shook the stack of papers before handing it over to an assistant. “But before I announce who’s heading up, I have to make a decision regarding our complement of Guards.”

Captain Abel turned back to the lieutenant. He spoke lowly to him. The lieutenant nodded and mouthed an answer while he scanned the room intently. His eyes stopped on Thomas. Damn… I know I wasn’t late. Everyone saw I wasn’t.

“Thomas Ricard, front and center!” the lieutenant snapped.

“Yes, Sir!” Shit… Thomas tried his best to subdue his concern. I wasn’t late. What the hell could I have possibly done to deserve this?

All eyes on him once again—none of their faces envious for what awaited him. He moved along the wall rather than try and force himself through the gauntlet of bodies between his seat and the front. He thought he heard someone mumble “poor guy” from a few rows over, but he couldn’t be sure. Another person snickered. One less person to compete with, right guys? Every man for himself, huh?

“Guard Ricard,” The lieutenant said, as he stalked Thomas, moving from side to side in front of him. “It’s no wonder you want to be a Soldier so bad—Guard Ricard sounds dumb. Are you dumb?”

Thomas looked at him for a moment and finally uttered, “No, sir.”

“Are you sure? You had to think for a bit there.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Then why are you late again? The second time in two weeks. Is this a habit of yours you’re starting? Is this some new thing you’re testing out?”

“No, sir! I don’t believe—“

“Then why are you so dumb, Guard Ricard?” He was now in front of him—uncomfortably close—his coffee breath penetrating Thomas’s nostrils.

“I’m not, sir!” His voice elevated.

“Why are you yelling at me, Ricard?”

Thomas looked him in the eyes but said nothing. I hate these games. I’ve already been through Army boot camp and the S.A.’s training. I don’t need this stupid shit again. If you’re cutting me, just do it. Let me take Joseph and go wherever you send me.

“Maybe you are dumb… I asked you a question, Ricard.”

“I wasn’t yelling, sir,” Thomas stated calmly.

“I can’t hear you!” He shouted.

Thomas raised his voice, “I wasn’t yell—”

He shoved Thomas in his broad chest, making him take a slow step backwards simply to steady himself. “Damn, son. Where you from?”

Thomas swallowed the anger from being assaulted—unprovoked and from a man much smaller. He took a deep breath. If you weren’t a lieutenant you’d be on the ground. “I was born here, sir.”

“You’re as sturdy as a corn-fed ox.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Have you heard the folks saying your ass should be dropped from the Soldier Program?” He raised his eyebrows, his face steadfast, waiting for a response.

“Folks say a lot of things, I guess… Sir.”

“I don’t really listen to folks, though.” He began pacing again. “I have my own opinions, but I have to know why you can’t seem to be here on time.”

“I don’t have an excuse, sir.”

The lieutenant’s face lit up as if Thomas had pressed the right button. “I like a man that doesn’t force excuses. Are you going to be late if I task you with the scout today?”

“No, sir!” Holy shit! Thomas fought back the smile that wanted to show.

The room began to grumble.

“Quiet down!” Captain Abel shouted.

Their frustration was understandable. Thomas knew each Guard that sat within the room wanted the opportunity for the Soldier’s patch. These opportunities waned as the grasp of the Second Alliance over the region continued to tighten. It was on the fringes of their territory that experience was earned. But L.P.H. Fortress was very much centralized.

“Anybody wants to say something they better speak up now.” The captain stood before a hushed room. “Good. These aren’t your decisions to make. I don’t want to hear any bullshit like that again. Good-bye!” He exited, and the room was called to attention once more.

Thomas turned to file out with the others, but the Lieutenant blocked his path “Hang tight.”

At the extent of Thomas’s periphery, he saw the jealous eyes that leered at him. A few muffled “lucky bastards” and “bullshits” later and Thomas stood as the only Guard remaining in the room. I deserve this. I’m not going to feel guilty.

“Come with me.” The lieutenant led him to the windows that faced eastward toward downtown and rested a hand on his shoulder while he spoke. Thomas repressed the feeling of ill-will toward the man that had shoved him only minutes ago. Rank oftentimes protected people from what they deserved, and Thomas knew not to jeopardize this blessing with any shortsighted remark or retaliation.

Thomas slid away from the lieutenant, not in an obvious manner, but playing it as if he saw something of interest out the window. He searched for something to say, but the lieutenant filled the lull. “Look out there. Look at all these people—all we’ve done. This is what we work so hard to protect. It’s our way of life, the way we do things. Under all God’s sky, everyone deserves a chance at this.” He continued on in this manner as Thomas stared off into the world.

The lieutenant’s words seemed to contradict everything that had occurred in the past two years since he returned from the war. Everyone deserves a chance at this? Everyone deserved a chance to live, but most of us didn’t.

Everything in the far-off distance appeared as it always had. It was as if man simply decided to leave everything behind—packed up and turned off all the lights—never to return. Houses and buildings still stood. Trees and grass still grew. There hadn’t been some spectacular event that took man with one swell swoop. Nothing close to that. Man hadn’t been that lucky. The Almawt virus ensured there was plenty of suffering.

Of course things could be worse for us now… A faint smile began to appear as he watched the town accomplish its efficiency. Every facet of life was contained here—grown and produced here. This actually is pretty damn amazing.

Along the street, two platoons of young children marched through the downpour, disciplined and moving as one, much better than he had seen during his Army days. And further beyond them, abutting the Mill Creek, from the viaduct to the highway, lay a vast field. Small hands worked the dirt—digging, plowing, scraping to ensure this year’s crop served the population.

All these children accomplished so much, completely clueless to how truly astonishing the feat they achieved really was. They did all this in the face of a crumbling world—in the face of all the tragedy surrounding them. These kids were the future of the Second Alliance—of the world.