Humanity Gone: Facade of Order (13 page)

Chapter 17: Ryan

            
 
I'm still not sure if we are doing the right thing. I once heard, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Still, this doesn't seem like the best plan. Considering what Carter told me, and considering their behavior five years ago, this could ruin everything. I had David stay back just in case. They will need him if this all gets ugly for us.

             
I have managed to keep our compound a secret over the years. Maybe it has been luck that those helicopters haven't flown directly over us. We aren't the only small settlement in the northeast, and although we won't look too threatening, it won't take much for those choppers to burn our home to the ground. Involving ourselves with the Sanctuary could be our first mistake in years. New America is looking for them, and soon they could learn that we were behind some of their misery these past few years.

             
Oh, well. It's a chance we are going to have to take. Surviving is only a part of the Resistance. The rest is trying to make this country some semblance of what we once took for granted. We will need help to do that.

             
The car bounces along the back road as rain continues to pelt the car from the dark clouds above. Three cars follow us in the caravan. I reach down and speed up the wipers on the SUV. Thunder rumbles in the distance while lightning periodically illuminates the car on this dark afternoon. The sooner we can get this over with today, the better. There are only a few hours left of sunlight. One of the men became sick on the way, and Paige left our car to help him out. Carter wanted her to stay safely home again, but she refused. He wants to keep her safe, and she wants to keep him safe. Or something like that.

             
I try to avoid these domestic squabbles.

             
When we finally reach our exit ramp the ride smoothes out on the cement, but the rain falls even heavier. The Sanctuary shouldn't be too much further ahead. As I travel along the road we come to a series of flipped cars. On one side is a steep hill and on the other is a house that is mostly burned down. I slow down to weave around the broken down cars that seem to act as some sort of checkpoint or barrier. Carter sits beside me and shifts in his seat. Behind us, Jo and Caitlyn seem to do the same. This is a bad place for them. I can feel it in my bones. I nearly have to stop to squeeze between a pair of upside down cars in front of the burned down house. For a moment, the other three in the car stop breathing. Carter told me roughly what happened here years ago, but left out some details. I am not about to ask.

             
The Sanctuary isn't too much farther down the road and within a half hour we arrive at the wreckage. I barely make out the compound's outline though the heavy rain, but the constant lightning weakly illuminates the remains of an old motel.

             
Carter once told me how it was quite an impressive home the Sanctuary had built for themselves in the motel. Now, it is closer to a demolished building. The wall surrounding the motel has large holes and missing sections - probably from the New Americans' weaponry. Burned chassis of cars scorched black long ago sit along the side of the road and against the crumbling wall. Vines sprouting from the cracks in the road wrap around their steel shells. Half of the motel has burned to the ground and the other side is a huge pile of rubble nearly fifteen feet tall that covers all of the motel room doors on the right side. It looked like the entire second floor had been destroyed and the rubble piled up on that side. The front office is largely intact, but the brick is scorched and the majority of the roof is caved in and lying on the parking lot. They certainly aren't operating from here anymore. Our vehicles come to a stop inside the compound in a long line. I step out of the car and into the storm.

             
“Well this place has certainly changed,” Jo says as she gets out, while pulling the hood of her coat over her head. “I never imagined it would have turned into this.”

             
“I know,” replies Carter in awe. He walks towards the front gate and squats to the ground. His blue shirt is already drenched navy down his back. Reaching down, he wipes some mud off a piece of metal that stretches nearly across the entire threshold of the entrance. I walk over to him and see the letters “SAN” underneath.

             
Sanctuary.

             
“Well I guess they got what was coming to them,” I remark. Carter stands back up wiping some water from his brow with the back of his hand, and we head back to the small caravan of cars. Most of the guys stay in the vehicles and out of the rain. Jo and Caitlyn walk around as Kevin follows behind them a bit with his rifle at the ready. We aren't taking any chances out here. Although, this place is a graveyard, and we should be safe. It doesn't look like anyone has been here recently. Carter returns to the passenger's side door. He has seen enough.

             
“Ryan, you really think they come back here often? This place is a wreck,” Carter says. He is right; it looks deserted. Maybe some sort of lead will present itself.

             
“It's worth a shot. It's already pretty late We will circle up the cars and spend the night. We are bound to...” My heart stops as a voice rumbles throughout the compound.

             
“Get out, we don't have anything else,” a low voice echoes out from inside the motel's nearly collapsed front office. Instantly, my hand is to my hip and draws my weapon. Carter has his out immediately too as he stands in front of the open car door. Several of my men prepare their guns while exiting the cars, forming a perimeter around the office. Their weapons face the dark crumpled building. The voice continues to boom through the storm at us.

             
“I don't suggest you do that,” the voice continues.

             
Rustles and thumps fill our ears from all around. I turn my head away from the office and see a figure emerging from pile of rubble by the wall. Beside him, another figure rises from a the rubble. I continue to look around as more and more men stand from within the compound and look at us from the sights of their guns. I quickly start to add them up as I glance around.

             
Two, four, eight, eleven, sixteen... there's too many. One emerges from the rubble with an RPG over his shoulder pointed at the last vehicle. Destroying that one would trap the cars.

             
Yep...

             
We are surrounded, out-manned, and out-gunned. What have I done? And where the hell did they get that kind of weaponry?

             
“Put down your weapons and maybe we can arrange some kind of trade for your lives.”

             
This was stupid. This is my fault if they all die here today. I should have listened to Caitlyn.

             
“We aren't here to fight. We don't want anything. We just want to talk.”

             
“Well, if you just want to talk then you don't need your guns.”

             
What to do...

             
I look around at everyone in the cars and outside in the downpour. There are only twelve of us. We only have one option.

             
I release my fingers from the grip of my gun and let it hang from my finger.

             
“Fine. I'm putting it down. Everyone put them down.” I sense the hesitation from those around us. I continue my stare at the office as I lower my gun to the ground and lay it on the wet asphalt. A few seconds later, I hear the small sounds of other guns splashing against the parking lot. Carter and Jo are setting theirs down as well. They both look more worried than the rest of us.

             
They know firsthand what these monsters are capable of. If this goes sour, I will never forgive myself.

             
As I raise both my hands to the sky, a shadow from the motel office emerges from the door frame. The shadow focuses into a single man walking towards us. He holds a pistol relaxed in his right hand beside a torn navy jacket that was barely repelling the rain. His soaked black hair is parted tight to the right side of his clean shaven face. His build is formidable, but the navy jacket he wears seems almost too small for him and did not go with the rest of his military-like attire. However, the confidence in his eye told me that he was the guy in charge. He is the one I need to talk to.

             
This plan needs to work, or we are all going to be killed.

             
“Please, we are not enemies.”

             
“Is that so? You barge in here with over a dozen armed men...”he looks to the left towards Jo and Caitlyn, “and women. How do we know you're not New Americans looking to take back everything else?”

             
“We are not New Americans. In fact the very reason we are here is to become allies. To become friends. We have a common enemy.”

             
He hesitates for a moment and looks back to me.

             
“Why are you coming to us now?”

             
“We recently learned that the New Americans are out there looking for you. And if they are looking for you that means you are giving them problems.” I try to relax my face and show confidence. “We are doing the same and thought we could benefit from a joint effort.”

             
He looks me up and down and briefly inspects the rest of our forces with his eyes.

             
“Is this all you have?”

             
“No. We have many more who will come looking for us.”

             
“Interesting.”

             
He walks past me and begins to move in front of both cars and around my men. A few look at me for guidance. I signal for them with an open palm. Keep calm. However, I am anything but calm. I worry they all can hear my heart as it beats away.

             
He walks to the back of the one car and peeks inside.

             
“Well hello. What's your name?” he asks.

             
“Paige...” Paige answers back. Her voice quivers for a second. No. Carter and I exchange nervous glances. This can't go down the same road. I glance at my gun on the ground. If he tries anything. Anything. I am certain that I can at least take him down before they get me.

             
After he inspects Carter, Jo, and Caitlyn, he walks over to me.

             
“Well,” he begins, “I believe you. Judging by your hardware and the faces staring back at me, you're not those New American punks.” Instantly he holsters his gun and waves for the rest of his men. They lower their weapons and walk towards us. Their sudden action catches me off guard. I breathe for the first time in minutes. He walks up to me and reaches out his hand.

             
“My name is Michael. Let me introduce you to the Sanctuary.” His voice is not nearly as deep as before and almost giddy. We pick up our weapons and listen as he lists through a few of his soldier's names and welcomes us to their “home.”

             
He takes us into the remains of the office and inside is entire row of motel rooms hidden by the pile of rubble on the right side. Nearly half of the rooms in the lower level are accessible and some even have electricity. Well, I assume they do because of the flickering lights keeping the corridor bright. It felt good for all of us to get out of the rain. A few of Michael's men follow us inside, but most remain in the rain keeping watch. After Michael gloats over a few more of the finer points of the “hidden” Sanctuary, he brings us all together in the office. Despite the destroyed exterior, it is pretty pleasant on the inside. Surprisingly, among all the wreckage and rubble, they have managed to maintain their home. The entire burned out motel is a facade for their real Sanctuary.

             
“So as you know, the New Americans charged in a few years ago and took everything, “Michael says. “Those of us that survived their so-called “visit” began to rebuild, but in this secret section that looks like a pile of trash. We watched them come back here a few months ago, and they had no idea we were all watching them from within those hiding places throughout the compound. We were vastly out-manned, so we simply watched them come and go. I doubt they will ever think to come back here again. So since our home is now safe, when we get word of some information on the New Americans we take action to ruin their plans. Retribution has been on the Sanctuary's agenda for the past year. “

             
I decide to speak up. “Long story short Michael, we want to work together and deal them a serious blow.”

             
“I'm in.” Michael quickly replies. A few of his men around him nod with smirks too. “We wouldn't miss it. The more the merrier.” This is going easier than I imagined. They are ready to roll.