Cruel World(127)

The soldier’s eyebrows rose and he nodded. “Yes, go ahead.”

They lowered their hands, and Ty stroked Denver’s head and back, smoothing his hackles that stood upright, until the big dog licked his chops and sat down near the boy’s feet.

“Maine?” the second soldier repeated.

“Yes, Maine. We heard about the safe zone before everything went to shit and drove here,” Alice said, bringing Ty close to her side. The soldier turned to his companion and shrugged.

“Unbelievable you got here unscathed,” he said after a pause.

“We didn’t get here unscathed,” Quinn said. “There was plenty of scathing.”

“I see. Well, no offense, buddy, but can I ask what’s—”

“It’s a genetic disorder that affected my facial bones. I’ve had it since I was born.”

The soldier studied him for a moment and then turned to Alice. “You corroborate this, ma’am?”

Alice laughed bitterly. “Yes, I corroborate. Now, are you going to let us inside, or do we have to hoof it back to our vehicle and find the real army?”

The soldier eyed them all for another beat and then offered his hand.

“Lieutenant Garret Wexler. This is Private Weston Murray. And the man up above is Private First Class Robert Thomas. Welcome to U.S. Army Safe Haven Number 81, or as we call it, Camp Terra Verde. Murray, kindly gather the people’s weapons, and I’ll show them inside.”

“We can’t have our guns?” Alice asked.

“No, ma’am. Civilians are not allowed to carry weapons within camp,” Wexler said, ushering them toward the battered steel door set into the barricade. They stepped inside, and Quinn couldn’t help faltering, his eyes widening at the sight.

Innumerable rows of low, white tents were set on the crusted soil. They stretched away in unending lines, some collapsed upon themselves while others were larger and stood above their counterparts. The circumference of the barriers was immense, the walls running in a huge loop that he lost sight of as it dipped down and curved to the west. A half dozen tanks sat across the immense yard as well as four large transport trucks, their rear ends open and empty. Machinegun turrets were folded back in upright positions every twenty yards atop the walls, and a narrow band of steel scaffolding ran in a half circle along the north, west, and east of the perimeter, giving access to the turrets. The soldier Wexler had identified as Thomas stood on one edge of a platform above them, a long sniper rifle notched against a hip. He watched them as they entered and spit a string of tobacco juice to the ground fifteen feet below. The wind carried the rotting scent past them as more rain began to fall.

“You good for a bit, Thomas?” Wexler called without looking up.

“Yeah. Send me up an umbrella. Better yet, send me up Sergeant Collincz.” Thomas grinned, and Murray, who had just entered the camp carrying their weapons, broke into laughter. Wexler half turned toward them and cocked his head to one side. He waited until both soldiers quieted, and Thomas faced the fields outside the walls. Wexler shifted his attention back to them and then nodded toward a long, green tent beside the transport trucks.

“Follow me, please.”

Thunder rolled across the sky like an unseen avalanche as they kept pace behind the Lieutenant and ducked beneath the flaps into the tent. Inside were two plastic folding tables surrounded by chairs along with a bank of computer equipment, screens all dark. A rack of rifles hung from one wall, stacks of army-green plastic ponchos lining the ground beneath them. A half-eaten protein bar sat on the edge of the closest table, and Wexler picked it up, biting off a chunk before unsnapping his helmet.

“Apologies, but I’m going to finish my lunch if you folks don’t mind,” he said, lowering himself into a chair.

Quinn gazed around the mostly barren tent to the raindrops pelting the dry ground outside sending up puffs of dust. He caught Alice’s eye, and she stared at him, holding her hands out, palms up. What’s going on? He shrugged and turned to Wexler who was finishing his protein bar.

“Sir, can you tell us what’s happening here?”

Wexler crushed the wrapper and flung it into a plastic bin beside the table. He looked at them all before sighing.

“Not exactly what you expected after traveling all this way, I’m sure.”

“Fucking A,” Alice said, placing her hands on her hips. Wexler appraised her and smiled before rubbing the close-cropped hair on his head.