“You will,” Chris assured him. “When you’re done eating, come over to Quincy Market. We want to hear about your trip here.”
“It’s a heck of a story,” Kent said with a full mouth.
“I’ve got a question for you, Chris,” I said. “I was walking around this morning and saw a bunch of people boarding a bus and taking off. What’s up with that?”
Chris shrugged and said, “People come and go all the time. We try to keep a record of it so when people leave, we ask that they do it in groups. It’s easier to document it that way.”
“People can’t just leave whenever they want?” I asked.
“Of course they can,” Chris answered quickly. “We just want to make sure we have a record of it. You never know. Somebody might show up looking for a lost kid, and if that kid passed through here, we want to be able to tell them. Olivia, what if your mother came looking for you? We want to be able to tell her you were here and safe.”
“If only,” Olivia said softly, without lifting her eyes.
“Makes total sense,” Kent said.
“Where does the bus take them?” I asked.
“Wherever they want to go, within reason. We’ve got to conserve gas. Some people want to get to the ocean and find a boat to travel down the coast. Others just want to get away from the city. We don’t question. All we try to do is keep track of the survivors who come through here as well as we can.” He shrugged and added, “I don’t know, maybe it’s all a big waste of time, but it makes us feel as though we’re doing something positive.”
“I think it’s really smart,” Jon said with enthusiasm.
“Could you drive me to New York City?” Olivia asked.
Chris gave her an apologetic shrug. “I’m afraid that’s a little out of our range. Like I said, we have to conserve gas.”
“That’s okay,” Olivia said while staring at her breakfast. “I doubt my mother’s there anyway.”
Her wistful comment made my heart go out to her. I’d been so wrapped up with my own demons that I kept forgetting that I wasn’t the only one who had lost family. Though in my case, my parents were still alive—they were just traitors.
“I’m sorry,” Chris said to her sincerely, then looked to the rest of us. “Finish up and I’ll meet you all over in the market.”
He touched Olivia’s shoulder in a show of sympathy, then headed out.
I looked at Tori, expecting some critical comment, but instead I saw that she was smiling.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re just as skeptical of this place as I am,” she said.
“I’m not!” I said defensively. “I just saw something that didn’t make sense, that’s all.”
“There’s a whole lot that doesn’t make sense here,” she said. “I get that you’re trying to find some new normal, that’s who you are, but I’m not convinced that this is it… and neither are you.”
“So what do you think we should do?” Kent asked. “They’ve got a pretty sweet setup going on here; I think we should take advantage.” He finished by scooping a forkful of eggs into his mouth.
“Sure,” Tori said. “It’s great… until those planes come back. But, hey, I guess that’s okay as long as we’re comfortable and well fed until then.”
That put an end to the conversation—and my appetite. Tori was right. It wasn’t just about survival, it was also about protecting ourselves against whatever force was responsible for putting us on the path to Armageddon.
And getting revenge.
I might have appreciated what Chris and his cowboys had set up, but I wasn’t ready to give up. Tori was right about that too.
We finished our meal in silence, then walked to Quincy Market. The same three girls were inside, processing new arrivals. When the first girl spotted us, she put on a welcoming face and said, “Come on in. They’re waiting for you right through there.”
She pointed to a door on the far side of the room. I led the others through to find a large lecture hall. There were rows of tiered seats where several of Chris’s cowboys sat. They faced a low platform where five chairs were set up.
“Come in,” Chris called to us. “Have a seat up there.”
We each took one of the five chairs and faced the others. A pretty girl, who could easily have been one of the reception girls who had processed us, sat in front with a notepad and pen.
“Now, start from the top,” Chris said. “Tell us everything that happened on Pemberwick Island and bring us right up to when we saw you outside of Fenway.”
I did most of the talking, though Kent was quick to add details, usually of his heroics. I told them everything, beginning with Marty Wiggens dying during the football game because he had used the Ruby that was brought to Pemberwick by the villain named Mr. Feit. I told them about Captain Granger and the division of the Navy called SYLO that invaded the island and created a quarantine that was more about keeping us prisoner than rooting out a bogus virus. I explained how they murdered people who tried to escape and about the rebels, led by Tori’s father, who planned to retake the island but were ambushed and executed before they could put their plan into motion. Tori spoke about how we tried to escape from Pemberwick on fishing boats and were recaptured, but not before witnessing what turned out to be the attack on Portland. We all talked about the SYLO prison camp and how we escaped by using the Ruby for strength.
We described our ultimate, successful escape from Pemberwick, from Feit’s death through the desperate speedboat journey that took us directly through the massive air-sea battle between SYLO and the black planes, when Captain Granger was killed. Finally, we described the desolation we found in Portland, the downed black plane that had the Air Force logo, and how we met Jon and decided to travel to Boston.
“From what we saw,” I concluded, “there’s a civil war going on. Two branches of the United States military are at war. Why? We have no idea. But we know who’s suffering, and that’s pretty much everybody else.”
Chris and the cowboys didn’t say much during our story. Every so often they’d ask a question to clarify something, but they mostly listened attentively.
When we finished, we sat there staring at the group, waiting for their reaction.
It was Chris who spoke first.
“I can’t speak for anybody else, but I’m blown away. The idea that this is a civil war is something I never even considered. None of us did.”
He looked at the other cowboys, and they all nodded in agreement.
He then added, “Who do you think is giving the orders? I mean, armies don’t just fight for the heck of it.”
“No clue,” Kent answered quickly.
“I don’t know about the Air Force,” I answered. “But SYLO came to Pemberwick Island under orders from the president of the United States.”
“So you think they’re the good guys?” Chris asked.
“Not even close,” I answered quickly. “Not after what they did to our home. Captain Granger was a monster, and I’m glad he’s dead. They’re all murderers. As far as I’m concerned, SYLO started this war.”
“And you say your parents are working for them?” Chris asked. I felt all eyes in the room on me, including those of my friends.
I took a deep breath and answered with total sincerity. “They lied to me for years about why we moved to Pemberwick Island. The truth is that we moved there so they could help an invading force turn the place into a prison. They’re just as guilty as the soldiers who fired the guns that wiped out the rebel camp and killed Tori’s father. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have parents anymore.”
Olivia let out a soft gasp.
Everyone waited, expecting me to say more.
I didn’t.
Tori reached over and took my hand.
“We’ll talk about it another time,” Chris said.