Read Zomblog 05: Snoe's War Online

Authors: T. W. Brown

Tags: #Zombies

Zomblog 05: Snoe's War (7 page)

BOOK: Zomblog 05: Snoe's War
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“Are you suggesting that we go to war?” Bob asked in regards to the statement that I had made seconds ago that had  caused silence to fall on our little table.

“Of course she isn’t,” Greg laughed.

“Actually, that is exactly what I am suggesting.”

Things got lively after that. I was on one side, and all four of them were on the other. I could understand Bob and Felicia; after all, they were Travelers. However, Greg and Ginger were part of a settled tribe. They had to know that the same fate I had witnessed and related that befell the Spartans would eventually be theirs as well.

It became clear that none of them would support this idea; however, Felicia said that perhaps it was worth bringing to the attention of the council. Personally, I could not believe that this had not already been discussed. I know that one of the core values we held at Sunset was that peaceful negotiation was always preferable to just going to war. Even in the EEF we were taught to try and negotiate if we were ever confronted. It was a big part of training. We even had mock encounters with people who were varying degrees of hostile.

As we left the tent to go look for these council leaders, I started to worry. The more time we spent talking, the more time Dominique had to openly conquer. I sure hoped that we would not be dragging this out too long.

 

***

 

“We need to keep order,” Ethan Lind spoke over the din rising from the crowd.

Ethan was a pretty non-descript man when you looked at him. But when he spoke, his voice carried. It was low, but not rumbling…and very powerful. He was somebody that you would forget you saw ten seconds after he walked by, but if he spoke, you would never forget his voice. And the rumor is that he can sing, too.

He is the leader of a tribe that camped close to the Sunset Fortress. His people had taken the name Apollos and could be spotted by the purple that you would find made up the majority of their garb. I had actually eaten dinner with him on more than one occasion when he was on business with Mama Lindsay or President Jenifer. He was the person that I had laid out my plan to after Felicia suggested that I bring it to this council.

Turns out that Ethan had been the person who sent messengers to as many tribes as he knew of to call this meeting. I was hoping for two things: first, that he would be receptive to my idea; and second, that he would be able to convince the others that it was worthwhile.

“You cannot actually believe that our options have been reduced to building an…
army
…” the woman spat out that word like it left a bad taste in her mouth. “That would drag us down to her level. I say that this is a problem for the incorporated towns of the Corridor system. They are the ones who made agreements to supply so many people per year to that war machine in trade for supplies and from the NAA’s engineers when it came to building their walls. They have been shipping their children off for years. It is not our problem if the NAA has suddenly changed the deal on them. If you keep bees, you must expect to get stung.”

A chorus of “Here! Here!” and other stupid phrases of support were being shouted by the majority. It did not look to me like these people were willing to budge an inch despite the fact that, as I explained it to Ethan, he had seemed agreeable and presented it as a good idea to them. These people were living up to some of the stereotypes that people who lived in the Corridor had painted them with. One of the biggest being that the tribes in the area cared for nobody but themselves.

I had lived my life hearing those sorts of things. I had also heard that and worse when it came to Travelers, but after meeting Bob and Felicia, my attitude had definitely changed.

As the little council meeting went on, it was becoming clear that my plan was not going to be welcomed by these people. Then a woman stood up and walked to the front of the room. I recognized her right away. The woman from the Spartan tribe that I had helped escape.

“You people make me sick,” she spat as she turned to address the crowd.

Not exactly the approach that I would take if I wanted people to do something, but to each his or her own, I guess. I looked around the room and saw a lot of mouths hanging open.

“We have been saying for years that there could come a time when we might need to band together. Of course, we believed that the threat would come from the people in the Corridor wanting to expand, but the fact remains that we saw this coming. And now, my people have been scooped up by this lunatic. My children barely escaped because of this woman…”

I liked being called a woman. And I didn’t see the point in telling her that she would have been snatched up also due to her age. She was on a roll and I could see a few people starting to stare at the ground. She was using the good old motherly tactic of shame and guilt. Yay for her!

“…and if what I am hearing is true, this is just the beginning. You will all feel rather foolish if you return to your homes and end up suffering the fate that the people of the Corridor, people who have never done us any harm by the way, as well as several of the tribes in the area.”

She stood there for another few seconds and scanned the crowd of silent people who had just moments before been practically shouting down Ethan, one of their most respected leaders. I glanced over and was surprised to see Bob looking at his feet and Felicia picking at her fingernails like she had just found the most interesting thing under them.

“And if we did band together…what would you have us do then? Attack this NAA? They would slaughter us wholesale,” Greg Carrick stepped forward.

“Nobody said anything about meeting these people in a straight up fight. However, we have the advantage of knowing this place far better than she or her soldiers. We could set traps, perform ambushes. History is full of armies that were defeated by the locals. In fact, if you read up on the history of this country, I believe it was born out of just that sort of conflict,” the woman said with the air of somebody that was lecturing small children.

I knew what she was talking about. History was one of my favorite subjects in school. I guess, if you thought about it, this situation was not that much different. And, to coin a sports phrase that I had heard on more than one occasion in my life, we had “home field advantage.”

I desperately wanted to say something, but this woman was doing just fine without any help from me. A low murmur started as the people gathered began to whisper and mumble to one another. I noticed a few that were still holdouts—Greg and Ginger among them.

“If we do nothing, then it will be our own fault when we fall under this new tyranny that wishes to bend us to whatever plan this self-proclaimed president may have.”

I decided that maybe I had something worth offering and stepped forward again. “I know that none of you have any reason to trust me, I am an outsider. But I was there when my mother and the president of Sunset Fortress got the word about how Dominique assassinated the person who had been the president of New America. I know that under the former administration there were deals in place that asked for any community receiving help to offer up recruits for the NAA. But my mother told me that those recruits were voluntary. And at any time, a community could opt out of the deal. Assistance would cease, but we were within our rights to withdraw from the agreement.”

I was
mostly
telling the truth. I had learned that there was more to it than that. I had also learned that I had been kept out of the lottery that our community held to determine who was sent when the requests came, but that was my problem, not theirs.

“If you think that Dominique will simply stop,” I continued, “then you will be thinking that all the way up until she comes rolling in to your homes and scoops up all she sees as useful and uses the rest as hostages to ensure that those she captures will do her bidding.”

I shot a look at the woman and saw her lips curl in a little smile. She motioned for me to follow her and she walked out of the gathering. I had to pull my coat tight against the wind that was starting to whip up pretty fierce. I hate wind. I can deal with rain, snow, or hot sun, but wind serves no purpose in my opinion other than to make a person miserable.

I took a moment to get a better look at her now that we weren’t running for our lives. She had a pretty face, but there were lines etched in it from hard living. Her hair was dark, almost black, and her eyes were a deep brown that still seemed to sparkle despite how darkly colored they were. She was a little taller than me now that I got a better look at her, and even dressed in furs and heavy clothing, you could tell she was stout; not fat, but sturdy…that was the word that came to mind when I looked at her—sturdy.

“You really Snoe Gainey?” the woman asked once we were alone.

I sighed. That was not what I wanted to talk about…not how I wanted to be known. I had given up long ago on the notion that I would ever be treated like a normal person in the Corridor. I guess I was hoping that it wouldn’t be as bad around the tribes.

“Yes.”

“I bet you get really tired of that question,” the woman said with a smile.

“You might say that.”

“Well, the only reason that I know is because I overheard some of what went on during the interrogation. I don’t imagine too many others have a clue.”

“I guess I was hoping that I could be someplace where nobody knew who I was…or more importantly, who my parents were.”

“A lot of people would trade places with you in a heartbeat,” the woman said. I could hear just a hint of something in her voice. It wasn’t like she was scolding me, but she had something on her mind.

“So is this what you wanted to ask me?” I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture on how great it must be to have such famous parents. I have no idea why people think that sort of thing has any meaning. If anything, it puts a lot of pressure on the child to live up to some mythological idea that outsiders have no clue about.

“Actually, what I wanted to do was thank you.” The woman seemed content to change the subject. “I owe you a debt that can never be repaid. You saved my children from a life that I shudder just thinking about.”

“Yeah…” I decided that maybe she should know that it wasn’t just her children on the line. “Well, according to the orders we were given, you would have been taken as well.”

The woman nodded, no look of surprise crossed her face. “Yes, well, if Dominique is really building an army, then I imagine that she has need of any able-bodied person that she can scrape up. I just wish I knew what she really had in mind.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I wasn’t really interested in trying to guess what Dominique’s plan might be. All I wanted to do was stop her…permanently.

“Sure.”

“You now my name, but I have no idea who you are. Do I just call you lady?”

The woman actually blushed. Her face turned a bright red and the smile on her face was priceless.

“I am so sorry.” Hearing her stammer and sound all flustered just did not seem right. I could tell that this woman was usually very much in control. “My name is Mary…Mary Turner. I feel like such a doofus.”

If seeing her blush was odd, hearing her say the word ‘doofus’ was even more peculiar. There was something about this woman, all the way down to the way that she spoke, that told you she was a smart, strong individual. In many ways, she was what I hoped to be. And then it hit me…she reminded me of Mama Lindsay…only about ten years younger.

“Nice to meet you, Mary Turner,” I said.

 

***

 

“So, it seems that the council has agreed to send runners to other tribes. We are going as far south as the 205 Corridor, as far east as West Hill summit and north to the Columbia,” Ethan said.

Sitting around a long table were the leaders of each of the tribes currently present, as well as Bob Hall, Mary Turner, me, and that creepy little man from the interrogation. I still hadn’t gotten his name yet, and I had no desire to ask. Every time I glanced his direction, it seemed like he was looking at me. No…to be realistic, he was staring. I began to wonder if he ever blinked. I started to feel real icky.

“And how long will that take?” Mary Turner asked.

“Hopefully no more than a week or two,” Ethan said.

I looked around the table at everybody. They were all nodding. That had me wondering, how much actual travelling around did these people do? Things happen out in the wilderness. Setting a time like a week? I had made the trip to the 205 Corridor and it could take longer without a doubt.

“You have a problem, Snoe?” Ethan asked.

“Huh?” I never had been any good at hiding my feelings. “I just wondered how much moving around you folks do?” I said it as flat as possible. I didn’t want to make them think I was some sort of expert. After all, I had only made a couple of runs. The time I went off by myself had been a failure. Still, they seemed a bit too optimistic with their time frame.

“We travel between tribal territories quite often,” Ethan said with his eyebrow raised just slightly. Perhaps I had not come off as casual as I had hoped. “We do things a little different than people from the Corridor. You are always looking out for possible supplies, and you tend to engage every walker you find. Our people stay out of sight and only travel in pairs. That allows us to move through areas that your wagons and such do not.”

He wasn’t snotty about it, but I heard a little something in his voice that made me bristle. Maybe I was just being defensive, but to me, all this talking was not getting us anywhere. If these people did not act and act soon, Dominique would roll over them all before they knew what hit them.

“Perhaps what my friend here is trying to say is that, while we wait, maybe some preparations should begin,” Mary spoke. I gave her a sideways glance and wondered if she could read minds.

“That is reasonable,” Ethan agreed. “I will send word that all capable defenders will need to assemble.”

“And where would you have them assemble?” Mary asked.

“There is an airfield about three miles from here,” Ethan said. “Some of the hangars are still standing. I think that might do.”

BOOK: Zomblog 05: Snoe's War
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