Bunny assumed they were dead regardless and spat, “No thanks.”
Top, who’d been taking it all in, shifted beside him. “As I told Diamond here,” again in his best Georgian drawl, “we’re just passing through trying to survive. We don’t want trouble and we didn’t bring no trouble with us.”
“No trouble and yet you have a military cache?” Leather Coat asked, clearly not buying it.
“Shit, man, everyone’s armed,” Top said. “Zoms don’t fall down from harsh language, and there are a lot more of them than there are of us. Old man like me has to tilt the odds in his favor, feel me? You understand. Clearly. You’re all heavily armed. Circumstances seem to demand it, don’t they? If we want to survive, I mean.”
Leather Coat locked eyes with Top a moment, considering, reading him, then he smiled. “Can’t argue with that, can we, Major Diamond?”
Diamond nodded. “No, sir.”
Leather Coat turned back to Top and Bunny. “Part of how we stay alive is deciding whom we let have weapons and whom we don’t. You understand? Can’t have untrustworthy types wandering around shooting at just anyone.”
Top smiled warmly. “Yes, sir, makes sense to me. But we were just passing through and headed on down to Mexico.”
“Mexico? Why?”
Top shrugged. “Find some shelter, food, supplies, and maybe stay away from the cities and live a while longer.”
Leather Coat chuckled. “Mexico, huh? Mexico’s full of rotting wetback zombies and shacks, Reb. Doesn’t sound very smart to me.”
Top shrugged again. “Sometimes the least expected places provide the best resources in times like these.” Bunny watched as the two stared at each other for a bit, then Leather Coat chuckled again.
“Well, sorry to say you men won’t be making it.” He turned to Diamond. “Major, red tag them and throw them in with the next batch.”
“Yes, General,” Diamond replied with a stiff salute as Leather Coat turned for the door.
“General? General who?” Bunny demanded.
Leather Coat turned back. “General Ike Black, son.”
“General of what army?” Bunny retorted.
“The only army that matters in these parts.” Black smiled knowingly, then turned and left the room.
“Well,” muttered Bunny, “that was fun.”
Then men rushed in and yanked Top and Bunny to their feet, pushing them out the door and back down the narrow corridor toward the cavern with the steel door and holding pens, Major Diamond leading the way. Bunny’s wrists hurt from the rope cutting into them and his shoulder wasn’t too happy either from all the yanking.
“Fuck you very much,” he said under his breath.
“Throw them in there,” Diamond ordered, motioning to nearby pen.
Top and Bunny were halted outside the door, and the rope cut from their wrists. Bunny was about to rub his with relief when the rope was replaced by red wristbands, and they were shoved inside.
“The rest of you clear the others out!” Diamond shouted. “New batch coming in!”
The holding pen door clanged shut as Top and Bunny watched the men around them scramble.
Men and women in lab coats appeared, hauling stretchers — some on wheels, others not — toward the waiting troop trucks, white sheets laid over the top. A coppery smell, like blood, filled the air and mixed with the chemicals, gun powder, and sweat.
“Load ‘em up,” one man said, laughing as he stepped up into the truck with a buddy and took stretchers from the incoming workers. As they turned to carry one back into the truck, the sheet shifted and wrist fell out — a wrist with a red band like the ones Top and Bunny now wore.
“This can’t be good,” Top said as they both stared.
“Wonder what the blue and white mean,” Bunny said.
They exchanged a knowing look — We gotta get the fuck outta here… fast.
—15—
The Soldier and the Samurai
The guard beckoned for them to come up. Bernie and Millie glanced at them over their shoulders as they walked on with the little girl between them. Ledger had listened closely to the questions the guards had asked the old couple.
“What did you do before the End?”
“Can you cook from scratch?”
“Do you have any skills? Can you fix a car? Did you work in construction? Are you a plumber? Do you have medical training?”
“Have you served in the military? Or the police?”
“Can you hunt and fish? Do you know how to dress what you catch?”
Like that. Fast questions. Very interesting questions.
Both Bernie and Millie were given red wristbands. The girl was given a blue one.
Bernie had served in the first Gulf War and then worked as a cop. Millie had been an accountant. Ledger did not see an immediate connection that would have put them in whatever the ‘red’ category was.
The couple before them, the Latino man and Asian woman, had both been given white bands. He had been a mechanic working mostly with two-stroke engines — ATVs, motorcycles and lawnmowers. The woman owned a hothouse where she grew herbs for restaurants.
Why white for them and red for the older couple? Was it an age thing?
Then something occurred to him and he grunted softly. Before they stepped up to the guard, Ledger leaned close to Tom and whispered, “I’m a baseball coach from Pittsburgh. I went deer hunting every year.”
Tom looked startled for a moment. “I don’t—”
“You’re a cook. You like to fish.”
“I…”
Ledger gave him a hard stare, and after a moment Tom nodded.
“Hey,” called the guard, “I ain’t got all day.”
They stepped up and the questions began. Ledger took point and went through his fictional career teaching health class and coaching baseball. He had the build for the sport, and even the guard seemed to buy it right away. “You played what, third base?”
“Right the first time,” said Ledger, smiling and trying to look like Robert Redford from the old movie The Natural. When the guard asked if he had ever hunted, Ledger went through a story about this eight-point buck he’d tracked and how he made venison stew that would have made you cry. He knew he sold it well.
“You ever serve in the military?” asked the second guard.
“Me? Nah. Not much for that sort of thing. Maybe I should have, but the only fights I ever liked were about keeping a hotshot runner from stealing third.”
They all laughed about that.
When it was Tom’s turn he laid on a thick Japanese accent that was totally false. Like his older brother, Sam, Tom had been born in California and had never even been to Japan. The accent rang true, though, and Ledger figured he was mimicking his old man. Tom talked about working at a sushi place in San Francisco. He talked about how he sometimes used to catch the fish he’d later clean and serve. He sold it really well. So well the guards were starting to look hungry.
“You got anything for the general?” asked the first guard.
“General?” asked Ledger, playing dumb. “This a military thing?”
“Yeah,” said the guard, “we’re here to protect and serve.”
That was a police slogan, but Ledger didn’t bother to correct him. “Who’s the general?”
“Ike Black,” said the guard. “He is the man, too. Tough cocksucker who’s going to put this country back on its wheels.”
“Is he?”
“Damn skippy he is.”
“Make America great again,” said Ledger with a straight face. “Count me in.”
The guard nodded as if they were all on the same page. “We’re big on swapping goods for services, around here, if you can dig it.”