Under a Broken Sun (27 page)

Hill stood and raised his hands and the crowd quieted down.  He projected his voice well - tons of practice.  "We cannot abide any deviation from the divine laws.  Remember Revelations 21, verse 7 and 8: ‘He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.  But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.‘  James Tolbert has shown us this when he lied and deceived us.  He let the son of the antichrist live.  Let his death be an example in our life that as the living word of God, we are all subject to his laws, and the punishments thereof."

The crowd roared their approval again.  Hill again held up his arms to silence them, then went on: “The world will know of our righteousness.  The world will realize the error of their ways and follow Christ.  And when they do, there will be no more war.  There will be no more suffering.  There will be peace!”  He shouted.  More roars.  He took in a few deep breaths, held up his hands again.  “But first we must eliminate the nonbelievers.  The heretics.  In three days’ time, we march to their unholy city.  We will surround them, and drive them out!  We begin with this boy, and we end with Satan himself!"  The crowd was ready to kill.  A few gunshots were fired into the air.

I looked at Hill, raising his fists in a show of strength, pacing back and forth in front of an execution device.  But then again, I guess he was used to that.  After all, what is a crucifix anyway?

His breathing became heavy, his shoulders dipped.  Reynolds reached over to him and put an oxygen mask on him, then led Hill to a large, fancy wooden chair, like some king.  The sky bled purple and torches appeared like fireflies.

Tommy said behind me “Fuck this,” and disappeared to the corner of the room with a clear shot of the platform.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked.  Tommy began setting up Bill’s sniper rifle on a wooden box, sighting the rifle.

“Saving him,” Tommy said.  Bill made a move to him and Tommy snapped back, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Bill raised his hands.  “I was gonna help you.”  He inched over to Tommy who crouched, peering through the site.  “Winds strong from right to left.  Aim a bit more right.”

Tommy adjusted his aim.

Bill continued.  “Aim for the knot around the beam, not the rope itself.  The bullet will destroy the beam.

Tommy nodded.  Cocked the rifle.

Outside Hill looked at the colonel and nodded.  The burly bastard stood up and strolled to where Tolbert stood on top of a wooden table, hands tied behind his back.  Reynolds kicked the table out from under Tolbert’s feet, which twitched as the noose tightened. The crowd’s applause, cheers, screams all drowned out Ashley’s scream behind me.  I couldn’t look away from the quivering body dangling from the rope.  Tolbert’s face went purple as he struggled.  Hill whispered something to Reynolds, now sitting at his side.  Hill laughed, then yawned.

We plugged our ears, and Tommy fired.  Before the shot quieted down the beam exploded and Tolbert’s body dropped like a lead weight as he fell to his knees. 

The crowd went mad.  People ran in all directions, Reynolds scanned the area for a gun in a window, but couldn't see any. 

“Time to go,” Bill said. 

We packed up and darted down the stairs, out the back door, and into a mob of terrified people.  For all they knew, God had struck the beam with lightening to save Tolbert.  Or maybe the devil. 

I turned and looked to the platform.  Tolbert was gone, Marilyn held a screaming child to her chest.  Reynolds ushered Hill down the steps out of the way, probably assuming it was an assignation attempt.  If my hands held the gun, it would’ve been.

Bill spun me around.  “The knife,” he said, flicking my little knife out of the cross.  I didn’t understand why, until I saw Tolbert standing in front of us.  Bill sliced through the ropes binding his hands.

“Let’s go,” Tolbert said.  I wanted to kill him not too long ago.  Now I realized we had no time to choose our enemies or our allies. 

27.   

Tolbert saved my life.  He missed on purpose.  But that didn't lift the weight of distrust that had on me.

We trudged up the highway once we got out of the back roads and hidden suburbs, crossed into Illinois soon faced the downtown skyline of Chicago.  Only the Sears Tower remained in view.  The skyline had been cut in half, and smoke still drifted up to the sky from smoldering ruins of skyscrapers.  In the morning, as the temperature began to rise by the minute, the apocalyptic nightmare almost seemed cliché.  Chicago, the nation's third largest city, now in ruins.

I turned to Tolbert.  "What happened to your wife?" I asked.

"I helped her escape.  Told her to meet me in Chicago, at the Sears Tower.  Hopefully she made it.  I got caught in the process, that's why they were gonna hang me."

He really loved his mom, I could tell.  I thought of Marilyn, how I was so sure that they had killed her.  I thought of Dad too.  How could he be here and still be alive?  Even if he was, how the hell do I find him?

I grabbed my cross, popped open the knife with my thumb and forefinger – an automatic move when I needed a cut.  I slid it back in.  Later.  Take care of that later.

We shuffled our feet, one in front of the other, in a reflexive motion just to keep us going, our final destination inching ever closer.   We walked on six lanes of a superhighway, named after some Dan Ryan guy, with maybe twenty minutes left before the sun would fry us.  Up ahead, all around us, low-rent housing sagged in crumpled ruins, with equally sagging people littered among them.   It’s been a month and a half, and yet people have already started giving up on the dead.  Corpses lie on the side of the road like road kill.  We walked in the middle of the highway, despite the occasional shot ringing out in the distance.  At this point, if anyone shot any of us, we’d probably thank them.

A slight turn to the right then straight again, and to the left rose Comiskey Park, the ruined home to the Chicago White Sox.  Tommy looked over at it with awe.  “Shit,” he said.  “If it weren’t so damn hot I’d break in just to run the bases.”

“You play high school ball?” Bill asked.

“Yeah.  Shortstop.  Wanted to turn pro, but my dad…” he trailed off, then looked at me.  I looked away.  I didn’t need the guilt right now, and God knows enough guilt had already grown on me like a fungus.

Tolbert finished Tommy's thought.  "He would've been proud of you.  Especially for saving a fellow soldiers life."  Tommy never looked up, but I could see the smile hidden by his bangs.

Up ahead twisted snakes of barbed wire wrapped around wooden posts and blocked the road.  Two army soldiers stood in the only gap between the barbed wire.  They raised their automatic rifles and pointed them at us.  “Hold!”  They shouted.  I raised my hands, and the others followed suit.

The soldiers stood about twenty feet away.  “Get down on the ground, face down, hands behind your head.”

I looked at Ashley. “Christ, I hope we’re not too late.”

I dropped to my knees and then lay down like they asked.  I heard a collapse and looked to my right.  Louie decided to hit the ground by passing out.

One soldier picked him up and carried him away.  Exhaustion trumped our protest.

“ID,” said the remaining grunt. 

“I don’t have any,” I said.  “My name is Adam Dawson.” 

The soldier squatted down next to me.  “Your father’s Dr. Dawson?” he asked.

"Yeah." 
This is it,
I thought. 
We're too late.

The soldier smiled.  “He’s been looking for you.”

We rode in a Honda Civic, me in the driver’s seat sweating like a beast, Ashley next to me, and Bill, Tommy and Louie in the back.  Tommy rode up on the roof with the soldier.  “How’d the biggest people get in the back?” Tommy asked.

“Ashley’s better looking than you guys,” I said.

For a while, it almost seemed normal.  We coasted on a highway, a quiet ride, same potholes and bounces in the road that we’ve felt a million times and never thought about.  The difference, of course, was that with four horses pulling us in a makeshift wagon, we rolled along at maybe two miles an hour.  The soldier that sat on the roof of the car snapped the reigns, his legs dangling in the middle of the windshield next to Tolbert's.

I leaned back in the cramped seat, watching the brick apartment buildings and commercial signs roll by.  I’d never been so happy to be off my feet.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said, “I give you the car of the future…”

The group laughed.  I closed my eyes to rest.  I was going to see my dad.  What the hell do I say to him?  My mind prepared for the worse and started debating with itself.  He’ll be indifferent. 
He couldn’t be.  The soldier said he was looking for you.
  I must’ve done something wrong. 
I don’t think he wants to punish you.
  I’m in trouble.  Must be. 
He’ll be proud.
  He’s never been proud of me.  Not one day in his life. 
Remember the telescope.  The pat on the head.
  A onetime occurrence. 
There were others.  Many others.
  Can’t think of any. 
For fucks sake, you're twenty-three.  Grow the fuck up,

Another tear formed.  I couldn’t wait to see him, but now, with these memories flooding back, I also hated him.  He never accepted mom’s suicide.  He played right along with the police reports.  Signed everything and with a stroke turned bullshit into fact.  I think that’s why I hated him. 
He couldn’t face it.
  So I had to face it alone?  I had to be called a liar? 
Maybe he’s sorry.
  Bullshit.

We arrived at the base of the Sears Tower and the soldier pulled the reigns to stop the horses.

As we climbed out of the car, Tommy and the soldier jumped from the roof.  The soldier motioned for us. “Follow me.”

Inside the building, dust and crumbling concrete from floors collapsing on each other littered the lobby.  Soldiers hustled around, carrying supplies or ammo.  Preparing for war.  We walked up a flight of emergency stairs, climbing them one at a time, sometimes over gaps where steps had fallen away.  Only one floor.  The southeast corner of the building seemed intact.  How the hell could all hundred or so floors remain standing?

How stable was it?

I shook the thought out of my head. 
Nothing's stable anymore.
  I grabbed Ashley’s hand just to make sure she and the others were all with me. 

Behind a big desk, bent over a map, stood a man I’d recognize anywhere.  Not my dad.  The President of the United States.  He pointed to the map, whispering battle plans under his breath to a man in fatigues.  The soldier led us right to them, then, once in front of them, he snapped to attention and saluted.

“Sir,” the soldier said.  “Corporal Bogush reporting with Mr. Adam Dawson, as requested sir.”

The President stood up straight, a smile coming across his dark and weary face.  “You found him?”

The corporal hid a smile.  “Sir, yes sir.  Approaching from the south on the Dan Ryan.”

The President walked over to me with that creepy politician smile – I thought he was gonna hug me or rape me or something.  But he just held out his hand, which I shook.  “Welcome, Mr. Dawson.  Your father will be most pleased to see you.  We owe him a great deal of gratitude.  He personally saved my life.”

“Is he around?  I’d really like to see him.”

The President nodded, then turned to the other guy in fatigues.  “Terrence, you ok with that for now?”

The guy nodded.  Bill stepped forward.  “Terrence McConnelley.  General McConnelley, name’s Bill Finnegan.  I served under you in Iraq.  Nineteen ninety-one.  Screamin’ Eagles.”

General McConnelley smiled and walked over to Bill, extending his hand.  “Of course.  Captain Finnegan.  You were highly decorated, if I recall.  Great service in Kuwait.”

Bill took the general’s hand.  “A cluster-fuck, sir, if you’ll pardon my speech.”

The general laughed.  “Of course.  Kids, you’re lucky to have made it this far.  Captain Finnegan is a madman.  What news from beyond the border, Bill?”

“You’ve got a shit-storm coming your way, sir."  Bill turned to Tolbert.  "This is Staff Sergeant James Tolbert, sir.  He can give you a rundown of the enemy to the south.  He's been deep inside their lines."  The general put his hand on Tolbert's arm and led him to the map. 

“Show me.”

Tolbert stopped him.  “Sir, with all due respect, I’d like to try and find my wife, if you don’t mind.  She was supposed to meet me here.”

The general nodded.  Tolbert disappeared and Bill followed the general.  “I’ll clue you in on what I know, sir.  Tolbert can fill in the details later.”

The President put his arm around my shoulders and turned me to the door.  “Come.  Let’s go see your dad.  He’s been waiting anxiously for you.”   I set down my backpack safely in the corner and Ashley grabbed my hand. “Can income too?” she whispered.

The President smiled.  “Of course.  I’m Jonathan Douglas.  Nice to meet you, Miss…”

“Harper.  Ashley Harper.”

As she shook his hand I realized I had never known her last name.  Amazing.  In the midst of survival even the most basic human interactions are cut short.  Names become as meaningless as your favorite color or what want to do with your life.  We just want to know your first name and move on.  Because in the midst of survival, you never know if you’ll ever see that person again.

“Ms. Harper,” The President said, smiling.  “Please join us.” 

We turned to go, and I looked over my shoulder to Tommy and Louie.  “Stick with Bill,” I said.  “He’ll need your help.  We’ll be back here to help plan.  Promise.”

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice, he went over to the table to listen in to the military planning.  Louie gave us big sad eyes that said, “Why do you want to leave me?” 

I strolled over to him and put my hands on his shoulders.  “Hey.  Stay with Bill and Tommy.  You’re gonna need to know how to fight.  You’ve done pretty good for yourself so far.  You're smart and quick, and these guys are gonna need you.  Ok?”