Page 6

SIX

KITTEN

Things were really looking up for Team Asshole.

We helped my brother and his friends get set up in the house next door to ours. Mr. Davies had lived there previously and passed away from natural causes, a heart attack while gardening, or so everyone had assumed. My dad and a few other men had buried him in his backyard, and we’d held a small neighborhood service as well. That was the first funeral I’d ever attended. The first of many.

Cipher acted as foreman to our crew of workers, and we made repairs to the roof and mended the broken windows, traded out some of the broken furniture and old beds for slightly less used ones. We cleaned the inside top to bottom. And while Cipher supervised our crew, I supervised him.

“Babe, it’s fine,” Cipher grumbled one afternoon when I’d caught him trying to hammer a board onto the window frame. I’d promptly snatched it from him.

“No, it’s not fine. Your arm is still healing,” I reminded him for the hundredth time.

“All right, here, take it.” He handed over the nail, and I finished the job, but I had to get on him again later that day when I caught him hauling away trash with a wheelbarrow. Still, having a project improved his mood, and it gave us all the chance to bond.

The B-holes, as we’d begun calling them, were proving themselves capable as well. My brother signed onto security shifts right away, allowing Cipher some much-needed time off from duty. Ansel had been accompanying Artemis and Macon on hunting trips. Rafi and Selena were sticking close to the compound but helping out with chores nonetheless. Despite the language barrier, Selena and Teresa were becoming fast friends. I was teaching her and Rafi English, similar to how I’d taught Teresa how to read, while they helped me learn Spanish. In the afternoons when we had down time, we’d read children’s books together and Teresa and I helped correct their pronunciation.

I learned too that Rafi and Selena were cousins who had come to Atlanta from Miami. They’d immigrated to Miami from Venezuela right before Rabbit Fever broke out.

“Gangs,” Selena told us when we’d asked her why they left South Florida. “Death, murder, very bad there.”

My brother told me that he’d met Rafi in the trials and had used our mother tongue, Portuguese, to communicate with him. They were isolated from one another, but allowed to chat via telephone, similar to how we’d visited Santiago in Atlanta. Selena visited Rafi every week and worked in the laundry room of a government high-rise while waiting for him to be released. The other member of their party, Dimitri, had been Selena’s boyfriend. We all knew what had happened to him. Selena spoke of Dimitri often, though my brother never said anything to me about it.

There were a lot of things my brother and I didn’t talk about.

Teresa and I decided it might be a nice gesture to our new arrivals if we made something sweet as a housewarming present, so I found one of my mother’s old recipe books and looked up how to make sugar cookies, an old favorite. We had to substitute a lot of the ingredients–butter, flour, sugar–and the clay stove outside wasn’t quite as consistent as the indoor oven. The cookies came out with burnt edges, but otherwise they looked okay.

“Who should we get to try them?” I asked Teresa, and it just so happened that Cipher was walking by, so I called him over and handed him a cookie.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking suspicious.

“Try it and tell me what you think it is.”

Still eyeing me closely, he bit off a chunk of the cookie–it took some effort–and screwed up his face. “Hardtack?” he asked

Teresa and I exchanged a look. “What’s that?” she asked.

“What soldiers eat when their rations run out.”

“Is it sweet?” I asked.

“Not very,” Cipher said, so I grabbed up another cookie and took a bite. Not as sweet as I’d expected and the consistency was a bit gritty too.

“What’d you use for flour?” Cipher asked.

“Dried chickpeas,” I said.

Macon came up then–he’d been waiting for the cookies to cool–and asked to try one. I handed one over and waited to see if his report was any better.

“Never tasted anything quite like it. You did say sugar cookies, didn’t you?”

“Yes?”

“What’d you use for the sugar?” he asked.

“Corn syrup.”

“Was it expired?”

“A little.”

“Yeah, this recipe needs workshopping,” Macon said with a nod while grabbing another cookie. “Sorry, kids, gotta run but keep up the good work.”

I sighed because I’d had such high hopes.

“Maybe soak the beans next time. Might make them a little softer,” Cipher suggested. He grabbed a few more and tucked them into his leather bag.

“What are you doing with those?” I asked.

“Saving them for later.”

“You don’t have to eat them if they taste bad,” I said.

“I didn’t say that. The texture is a little strange, but they’re weirdly satisfying.”

“There is a lot of shortening in them,” I admitted.

“I’m going to do a perimeter check on the fence. Don’t give up on your baking dreams just yet, okay? Either of you.” He nodded at Teresa too.

“We won’t,” she said jovially and waved him goodbye.

“I think we have a problem,” I said, looking at the rest of our pile.

“Maybe we could call them something else,” she suggested. “Biscuits?”

“Yeah, I think with some jam and tea they wouldn’t be so bad.” I mulled it over while nibbling at the edge of the “biscuit.” Definitely more savory than sweet. Maybe I added too much salt?

“If Selena likes them, I’ll tell her I made them, but if she doesn’t, I’ll tell her you made them,” Teresa said.

I shook my head at her ridiculousness, though it was sweet that she wanted to impress her new friend. “I’ll take the hit for you, I suppose, but you should know it’s the thought that counts. You and Selena get along good, huh?”

“She’s very cool. Also nice and pretty. And fun to be around.”

“I’m glad that you made a new friend.”

“You’re not jealous?” she asked.

“Should I be?”

“Well, you were my best friend for a while.”

“Were?” I asked and pretended to be offended at her teasing.

“Yeah, you’ve got some competition now,” she said slyly. “You’re going to have to up your game, Kitten.”

“I definitely need to figure out a better sugar cookie recipe. Thank God Selena didn’t come with a cat or you’d have forgotten all about me by now. Here,” I handed her a few flowers that I’d picked earlier to add to her housewarming basket. “That will make up for it if she doesn’t like the cookies. Cipher said he’d build me a beehive, and then we can go looking for a wild swarm. Imagine having jars and jars of honey around whenever we wanted it?”

“So delicious,” she said with a wistful sigh. Teresa shared my obsession over baked goods, dairy, and sweets. Cheese made life worth living. She gathered up her covered basket to share with the B-holes while I headed over to our garage to get Gizmo and Wylie’s opinion.

“What are they?” Gizmo asked, inspecting my tray of delights.

“We’re calling them biscuits. They’re really good for you,” I said, figuring I’d better sell it. They each took a biscuit in hand and gave them a try.

“Not what I expected,” Wylie said. “But not bad either.”

I glanced around the garage, admiring the progress they’d made on the CCTV system. We’d scavenged the neighborhood for cameras and out of the dozen or so we’d found, our techies got six of them working. We’d also had to bring back all the cable we could find to link them up. The wires were all over the place due to the cameras being spread out around the compound. Gizmo and Wylie were explaining to me how it all worked, something about a closed loop, getting more excited as they went along. Regardless, their setup was impressive.

They’d stacked the monitors on a metal grid so that we could see multiple views at once: our front gate, the back half of our property facing the woods, the yard where our chickens and ducks were kept, our field of crops, and the magnolia tree where Cipher and I liked to picnic. The videos were black and white and a little grainy, but I could easily make out Macon and Artemis underneath that same magnolia tree, dancing together. Macon twirled Artemis and she laughed. Then he dipped her slightly like a gentleman in one of those old-timey movies. My heart warmed at the sight of them.

“We should probably let everyone know where the cameras are stationed,” Wylie said. “I wouldn’t want them to think we’re spying on them.”

I shifted my view to the other screens, not wanting to intrude on their private moment. It was then that I noticed movement at the front gate and pointed it out to Wylie. He shifted the camera via remote to show four military Jeeps coming up the road in a single-file line. The United Forces had returned, just as Cipher and Macon predicted. What did they want with us now?

At my hip, my radio buzzed with noise. “Cipher, come in.” It was my brother’s voice on the walkie talkie.

“What’s up?” Cipher replied.

“We’ve got visitors. Four vehicles approaching from the east, headed towards our compound.”

“Military?” Cipher asked.

“Looks like it.”

“Fuck, not this again. All right, standby. I’m on my way up there. Don’t take any action.”

“Roger that, boss.”

My brother was a hothead who generally thought he should be in charge, so I appreciated his deferential tone when speaking to Cipher. I supposed we were all capable of growth.

I left my biscuits behind and walked out of the shade of the garage and into the bright afternoon sunlight, shielding my eyes to squint up at the watchtower where my brother was on patrol. Cipher was swiftly approaching from the other side of the cul-de-sac, his gait more lopsided in his haste to reach the tower. I decided to follow him up there to get a better look at what was going on.

“Hey,” I said to them both once I’d reached the top platform. Santiago had the rifle raised, looking through the weapon’s scope at our visitors. Cipher held the binoculars, which he passed over to me after he’d gotten a good look. Through their lenses I saw the same gray-haired woman as before, Captain Crenshaw, but there were a lot more soldiers with her this time, and they looked like they were ready for battle as they exited their vehicles in full tactical gear–face shields, helmets, body armor, the works.

“Shit, they mean business,” Santiago said, echoing my thoughts.

“Yeah, not good,” Cipher muttered. “Not good at all.”

We waited as Crenshaw took hold of the megaphone. The smile on her face was likely meant to be warm, but it looked a little forced. “Despite what it may look like, we are not here to invade you,” she called out.

“Coulda fooled me,” was Cipher’s response.

“You’ve injured your arm,” she said.

“Rabids,” he said curtly.

“That problem seems to be getting worse,” she said while Cipher only stared back at her, the line of his shoulders tense and ready. “To whom am I speaking?” she asked.

“Cipher,” he said begrudgingly into the megaphone, withholding his government name. We were outmanned and outgunned. Cipher must have done the calculus already. He wouldn’t risk our lives without an imminent threat to our safety.

“All right, Cipher, here’s the deal. Same as before, we’d like to come inside and take a look around, but this time, the request is non-negotiable.”

“And if we don’t comply?” he asked. His voice was calm, disinterested even, but there was sweat dripping down the back of his neck and collecting on his shirt collar. His good hand reached for his Glock as he silently unholstered it from his hip.

“Then we’ll have to enter by force. But, if you put down your weapons and allow us to enter peacefully, I can assure you, we will do our best not to disturb you, and when we are finished, you can carry on with the rest of your day.”

“Do you think she’s lying?” I asked Cipher and my brother.

“I don’t know, but we’re fucked either way,” Santiago said.

Cipher then countered her offer with, “How about this, Captain Crenshaw? We let a couple of you inside, but I keep my man here with his gun trained on your people and if shit goes sideways, then at least we both lose?”

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “That would require a lot of trust on my part,” she said at last.

“Ours as well.”

She took a moment to discuss it with her squad before addressing us again. “All right, Cipher. You have a deal. Four of us will enter, armed, and the rest of us will hang back, but I will require that you keep your gate open in case we need to retreat.”

Cipher lowered his megaphone and asked us both, “What do you guys think?”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Santiago said.

“They’re not going to find anything criminal inside here. Maybe they’ll just take a look around and leave us alone?” I said, hoping for the best.

Cipher studied me, and I saw a glimpse of true fear in his eyes. “You need to keep quiet while they’re here.”

“I will,” I said solemnly.

“I won’t let them take you,” he said.

“If they try, I don’t want you blowing up the place to stop them,” I warned.

“Then you tell them it was me,” he said sternly.

I stayed silent, not making any promises. Cipher huffed in displeasure while my brother shot me a questioning look. I hadn’t told him what all went down in Promised Land. I would eventually, probably, but we’d been so busy preparing their home that I hadn’t really had a chance to reconnect with my brother. Cipher turned to address the Captain.

“All right, Captain, you have yourself a deal. I’m going to come down now and unlock the gate.” Cipher turned to me. “You stay here with Santiago. If they fire on us, you two take out as many as you can.” He pressed his Glock into my hand, wrapping my fingers around the cold, hard barrel.

“Yes, boss,” Santiago said while I only nodded. My hands were shaking and I felt like I was going to puke.

“No hesitation, Kitten,” he said as if knowing my thoughts. He kissed me hard on the mouth, then climbed down to where Crenshaw and three of her soldiers were waiting outside the gate. The other soldiers formed a human shield about thirty feet behind them.

“Fuck, this is intense.” Santiago shifted his stance, finding a more comfortable position. “Why is he so worried about you talking?”

“Some stuff happened in Promised Land,” I said.

“What kind of stuff?”

“I’ll tell you later. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe.” He glowered at me and I gave it right back to him. We loved like brothers and we fought like brothers too. He wouldn’t be forcing anything out of me. His days of “say uncle” were over.

More of our crew had come out of the houses and were standing by, on guard. No doubt they’d heard the exchange outside. Artemis had her bow. Macon carried a bat, though he was trying to look casual about it. Cipher and Crenshaw exchanged words, too far away for us to hear, but it looked like the soldiers were pairing off with our people in order to search the compound. Cipher shot me a warning look as Crenshaw headed for the watchtower and started climbing.

“Looks like she’s coming up here,” Santiago said.

“Crap.”

I attempted to settle my nerves. Deep, even breaths. Act normal. The gun slipped in my sweaty hand. She was going to ask questions. I couldn’t not answer her. That would be rude and suspicious. Cipher had briefed us on what we should say in this sort of situation. He’d made me repeat it several times to make sure I got it right. I just had to stick to the story.

“Gentleman, good afternoon.” Crenshaw said when she reached us. She stood up straight and dusted herself off, the gun still slung across her chest but lowered, for now. She looked even bigger in person, almost as tall as me with broad shoulders and a determined look in her eyes. The body armor only added to her general badassery. The scar on her face appeared to have happened a while ago but healed badly, stitched up by a crude hand. Maybe she’d done it herself? No doubt this woman had seen some shit. But then, who among us hadn’t?

“Good afternoon,” I replied politely while Santiago kept his gun trained on the soldiers outside the gate.

“And who might you be?” she asked.

I switched the gun to my other hand, wiped my sweaty palm on the side of my shorts, and held it out to her. “I’m Joshua Perrin-Rogers and this is my brother Santiago. We live in this house.” I pointed to it. “Well, I live in that one and Santiago lives in the one next door, but we both grew up here. I have the mortgage papers to prove it, if you want to see them?”

“That won’t be necessary, young man. We’re not here to evict you. We just want to have a look around. Make sure there are no captives or questionable activities going on.”

“There aren’t,” I assured her.

“How did Cipher hurt his arm?” Crenshaw asked.

“We were fighting off Rabids in a CVS and he fell on it. We were looking for an inhaler for me.” I reached into my pocket to pull it out and show her. “I actually found one right before the Rabids arrived.”

“Where did Cipher get his arm casted?” she asked.

“Here. I did it myself. We had the supplies.”

“That was good work.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“And tell me, are you here willingly?” she asked, training her steady gaze on me.

“Yes, ma’am. Everyone wants to be here. We’re fair and just. We vote on everything.”

I should probably stop talking. Cipher would want me to say as little as possible, but I wanted her to know we weren’t doing anything criminal. And once I got going, it was hard to stop.

“That’s a nice coop you have over there,” she said and motioned to it. The hens were happily hunting for insects in the tall grass while the ducks splashed about in the pond we’d built for them, unaware of the human activities happening around them.

“We’re still looking for a rooster or a drake,” I said.

“We could probably help you out with that.”

I recalled the livestock I’d spotted on their base. What I wouldn’t give to have a few of their herd. Cipher’s warning came back to me then, not to accept their bribes. That was how they lured you in.

“Why would you help us?” I asked her.

“Because it helps us too. We want thriving civilian populations. They help keep the bad guys in check and control the Rabid populations too. The world won’t be like this forever, Joshua. We have to prepare for a future where this disease no longer rules our lives.”

It was hard to imagine a world without Rabbit Fever. Most of my life had been spent dealing with the fallout of the virus. I wanted to believe our lives would improve, but I was skeptical all the same.

“They’re active in the daytime too now,” I told her, in case she didn’t already know.

“Yes, we passed a pack of them on our way here.”

“Did you kill them?” I asked.

“No, we try not to disturb the Rabids unless they attack us first. They were once humans after all, and hopefully someday soon, we’ll be able to rehabilitate them.”

“How would you do that?”

“We’re working on various treatments at the lab. Some of them show real promise.”

“They’ve been working on a cure for the past seven years,” Santiago said bitterly, and I didn’t blame him for his resentment.

“And we’re getting closer to one every day. We have many brilliant minds working to solve this problem. Breakthroughs are happening all the time. Now, Joshua, I have a serious question for you. Where did you get these guns?” She pointed to the rifle Santiago was holding and its twin, mounted to the bannister of the watchtower right next to him.

Stick to the story.

“We came across a camp in the woods, just outside of Birmingham. The man who we think they belonged to was dead, killed by Rabids. He had a lot of weapons.

“What other weapons did he have?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Cipher. He keeps inventory.”

“The man was dead when you arrived?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did the man have a vehicle with him?”

“No ma’am, not that we saw anyway.”

“Was there any identification on him?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t look. He was torn up pretty badly. We burned him with the other dead Rabids that were nearby. There must have been a fight. We took whatever weapons we could carry and we left.”

Her piercing gaze felt as if she was seeing right through me. Could she tell that I was lying? Crenshaw turned to my brother and said, “Is he telling the truth?”

Santiago spared her a mulish look and spat on the platform floor. “Hell if I know. I was a lab rat in Atlanta. I just got back here a week ago.”

“Have either of you heard of a place called Promised Land?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered. “We spent the winter there, before coming here.”

“Why did you leave?” she asked.

“Too many rules.”

“What kind of rules?”

“Rules about where you could go, who you could marry, how much you could eat. We didn’t like it.”

“So you left there and came here?”

“Yes, ma’am. I wanted to come home.” That part at least, was true.

“How long ago did you leave Promised Land?”

“Three months or so.”

“And you’ve accomplished all of this in that time?” She waved one arm to signify the compound surrounding us.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Impressive. Well, Joshua, I don’t know if you know this already, but the leader of that community is dead. Murdered, it would seem. He went by the name of Brother Larry. Did you know him?”

“Yes, ma’am, we all knew him.” I said, steadying my voice.

“Do you know anything about his death?”

“No, ma’am. We must have left before it happened.”

She narrowed her eyes and asked, “Do you know of anyone who held a grudge against him?”

I shrugged. “Could have been anyone.”

“Did you hold a grudge toward Brother Larry, Joshua?”

I cleared my throat and met her questioning gaze directly. “No, ma’am.”

She tilted her head as if trying to get a better read on me. I pressed my lips together to keep myself from saying anything more. Relenting at last she said, “If you have any other information that might help us solve this mystery, I’d appreciate you telling me.”

“Sorry, ma’am, I don’t know anything about it. I hope the people there… are they okay?”

“They’re fine. There was some upheaval, which is why we were called in, but they found a new leader, a midwife.”

“Marion,” I said.

“You know her?”

“Yes, I apprenticed with her. She’s a good woman.”

“Seemed that way to me. Personally, I’m fond of women in leadership.” She smiled and I hoped that meant the hard part had passed.

“Yes, ma’am. Me too.” It didn’t forgive me my sin, but it comforted me to know that Promised Land was being led by a kind and compassionate person. A life-bringer, Marion wouldn’t allow people to be sold into slavery or traded for weapons.

Crenshaw’s radio chirped to life then. “Captain,” a voice said.

“Report,” she said briefly.

“No signs of any illegal activity or captives. Everyone appears healthy and relatively well-fed. They have stores of meat, food, and live fowl. A couple of them don’t speak English, but they don’t seem ill-treated.”

“They speak Spanish,” my brother said.

Crenshaw nodded at Santiago and addressed the voice on the radio, “All right team, let’s clear out and let these young folk get back to their business.” She holstered her radio and said to us in a brighter tone, “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t tell you boys that the military offers a generous pay along with shelter and three meals a day in exchange for enlisting.”

“Not interested,” Santiago said to her, rather rudely.

“What sort of things do you do?” I asked.

“We have several companies who work on base, keeping the place running, similar to what you all do here. My squad mostly does field work. We monitor the area for criminal activity and occasionally trap infected individuals to bring back to the base.”

“Rabids?” I asked.

She nodded. “There’s a secure section of the base where scientists and doctors live and work. Their care and safety is our responsibility too.”

Had Jeremiah been providing live specimens to their lab? Is that why Crenshaw was asking about his weapons?

“I’ve had enough with being a lab rat,” Santiago said.

“As a human, you wouldn’t be tested on without your consent. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s the only way we’re going to find a way to beat this thing.” She handed me a half-sheet of paper detailing the terms of enlistment. Five years of service in exchange for food, housing, healthcare, and a living wage. There was also a map to their base. What would the world look like in five years? Would we all still be alive?

“What good is money?” I asked.

She smiled as if indulging me. “You can buy supplies at our commissary, snacks or clothes or personal hygiene products. Money will be important again one day, Joshua. Just you wait and see.” She nodded once more and then took to the ladder, rejoining her party at the gate. I trailed after her, wanting to see if she’d give us any more information.

“Seems like a well-run operation you have here,” Crenshaw said to Cipher. “As I told Joshua here, the United Forces is always looking for new talent.”

“We’ll take it under consideration,” Cipher said, though it was clear to me he’d do no such thing.

She handed Cipher one of their hand-held radios. “If there’s ever an emergency, try calling us on this radio, Channel 4 has the longest range. We monitor the line at all hours of the day.”

“Will do.”

Cipher saw them off while I hung back with the rest of our crew, most of us quiet, simply observing them leave.

“Well?” Cipher said once he had rejoined us.

“They now know all of our capabilities,” Artemis said.

“They were particularly interested in our workshop and what we were working on. We tried to keep it high-level,” Wylie said.

“Did she ask you any questions?” Cipher said to me.

“Yes, and I stuck to the story,” I assured him.

He nodded but looked no less agitated than before. He saw the piece of paper in my hand, and I passed it over for him to have a better look. His brow was furrowed and dark as he read it over, then raised his voice to address us all.

“The United Forces is offering food, housing, and healthcare in exchange for enlisting. Service is a five-year term. Would anyone like to join them?”

I glanced around at my friends and family. None of us said a word. Cipher searched all of our faces individually before finally handing the paper back to me. “How about you, Kitten?”

I scowled, angry that he didn’t seem to trust me, hurt by the question. “I told you before, I’d never leave you.”

He nodded, a little bit wounded, a little bit stern. “Good answer.”