Chapter 4 Heroes Die
The room was a whole lot different than the one I had, which makes me right about the whole 'special privileges to soldiers' thing. The room itself was pretty large, with only four cots lined along one side of the room. A divider lay in between all of them to provide the sleeper a bit of privacy, something that wasn't given to the civilians. In a room with grown and young men and women, it was awkward when I came time to change.
Mr. Mason was sitting behind a desk, lounging comfortably in the teacher's chair, looking right at me in my own chair. Ben had told me that he was a teacher, and he looked completely at ease sitting in his chair. He was no doubt sizing me up, so I thought I do the same to him.
If I had to guess who the military leader was out of a crowd of people, I would not have guessed Mr. Mason. He was a bit gaunt in figure, and that shaggy, unkempt beard made him look like a wild axe man instead of second in command of the 2nd Massachusetts. Still, there was an air around him that commanded respect. And from what I've heard, he deserves it. I still remember hearing how Mr. Mason dragged back a skitter to this school, beating it with nothing but a flash light and a sawed off shotgun.
'Don't judge a book by its cover I guess.' I thought to myself. 'I hope he doesn't do the same thing.'
Mr. Mason continued to stare at me, not aggressively but it was still aggravating. I felt like I was back home before the invasion and my father was looking me over to decide my punishment for some bad thing I did.
Finally, Mr. Mason spoke. "During the civil war, Confederate forces used children soldiers to defend their lands." He said slowly, as if he was getting ready for some long lecture. "The reasons were that one, they thought Union soldier would never harm children, two, they could work as very good scouts, and three, there were not enough adult men to hold the lines against the Union." He leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on the desk in front of him. "Well as it turns out, all of that didn't work. Union soldiers did fire on the children, the children gave inaccurate reports, and most important of all the Confederate civilians took the use of children soldiers as a bad sign and morale went down considerably."
I nodded my head, understanding where he was going with this. "I see that you understand what I'm saying." Mr. Mason said, "If I let you join the fighters, then there will be a considerable outcry and people will start to get the wrong impressions."
"Or they could get the right ones." I said, which caused Mr. Mason raise an eyebrow, "It can show that people are willing to fight for this cause, to lay down their lives. Maybe it will give people hope, and encourage them to fight."
Mr. Mason was clearly impressed with my statement; to be honest I was too. I haven't said anything that moving sine like ever. While impressed, he was clearly not entirely convinced.
"That may happen. But you are not the 'people' Michael. You are a fourteen year old kid-"
"Fifteen in a month and a half." I interjected.
"You are a fourteen year old kid," Mr. Mason said again, still with his calm voice, "which presents problems."
"Why? There are younger kids than me fighting! And your own son fights too!"
"There is only one person younger than you who fights, and that's Jimmy. He's a… special exception. And Hal is a couple years older than you. He's different." Mr. Mason explained, his eyes drifting away a bit. "What do your parents think of this?"
"My parents are dead." I responded plainly. Mr. Mason's eyes shot back towards me, regret plain on his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry." It was silent for a little bit after words. I remembered Ben telling me that his mom was dead, so Mr. Mason must have been having some sort of flash back of his dead wife. Mr. Mason continued though as nothing had changed, "Then you're with the 2nd's orphan program?"
"Not exactly." I responded. "I'm living in room 117 with my Aunt, Uncle, and my two cousins. Plus about eight other people."
"I heard that rooms were cramped for civilians, but that seems like a little much." Mr. Mason said.
I shrugged before responding. "It's hard, but we make due. I miss my own room though, and space for me to just lounge around. I heard that the fighters have a lot more stuff then the civilians due."
"And is that why you want to join the fighters? To get better stuff?" Mr. Mason questioned. I twitched, realizing that I had just walked into a trap. 'Stupid!' I said to myself. I wanted to convince Mr. Mason that I was fighting material, not someone who was out for themselves.
Deciding not to lie, I confessed. "Ya, all that stuff would be a major benefit. But I'm being honest; I want to fight, to do something besides sitting around and waiting for an attack."
"You know," Mr. Mason said, talking like he was teaching some kid, "Few kids in this regiment really want to fight. Heck, few adults want to fight. They would prefer that other people did it for them. The kids that do want to fight, however, want fame and to become heroes. And that's something I won't allow. Kids shouldn't die for their own hopes of fame and glory, they are our future. You are our future Michael. I don't need you running off to be a hero."
I was zoning out though by that last part at the mention of being a hero, flashbacks coming into my mind.
I coughed violently, standing up slowly and rubbing my eyes to get the blurriness out of them from that flash. After a little bit I looked up and saw a scene of terror.
Smoke was rising up in several places and electrical sparks were coming off the phone wires. The air itself felt hot and muggy, but most the most noticeable thing was that there was almost no sound. No car horns, no helicopters overhead, no TV's blaring, nothing.
That is of course until a helicopter came twirling downwards. It pasted by over head and keep falling in front of me, making it about two more blocks until it crashed into a house with a fiery blaze and the sound of people screaming.
I looked out towards the city and saw the same thing happening with the other helicopters. All of them began to fall onto the city, piles of fire blowing up underneath them as they crashed into various spots. I looked farther and saw a fighter jet crash into a skyscraper in downtown Boston, sending much of the upper portion of the building into flames. Everything seemed to be effected, except for the Aliens crafts which were now flying out into multiple directions.
"EMP." I muttered.
"What?" My mom asked, holding onto my dad and reaching for my hand.
"EMP. Electrical Magnetic Pulse. It cancels out all electronics and vehicles, rendering them useless." I explained, now holding my mom's hand.
"How do you know that?" My dad asked.
"Call of Duty…" I said sheepishly. My mom groaned at my excessive habit of playing video games, even given the circumstances.
"Daryl," my mom said, "James and Cindy couldn't have been far. I'm sure that their just a couple of blocks away!"
"What your point hon?" my dad asked, trying to power on his cell phone. I considered telling him it wouldn't work, but it wouldn't matter. He'll keep on trying anyways.
"They were in an RV, they could be in danger! It could of exploded or something!" My mom said, her voice almost hysterical.
"Mom, an EMP doesn't do that. The explosion thing I mean. It just shorts stuff out, look at all the cars around here! None of them have exploded." I tried to explain.
"Can you please just go and check to see if they're nearby?" My mom pleaded to my dad.
"And leave you two here alone? Hell no!" My dad protested, but my mom gave him that look that meant he wasn't going to win this argument.
"We'll come with you!" My mom said, "Come on! We need to make sure their alright!" She grabbed both my dad's and my arm and dragged us down the street, towards the intersection to see if our aunt and uncle were nearby.
"Michael?" Mr. Mason asked, "Are you ok?"
I blinked several times, embarrassed that I zoned out like that. "Yes, I'm sorry about that Mr. Mason."
"So do you understand why I can't let you become a soldier?" He asked.
"Mr. Mason," I began, inhaling sharply, "Nobody knows this, but my family tried to be heroes when everything went bad. My mom, dad, and I tried to help the rest of our family out a sticky situation. And you know what I learned? Heroes die. It's as simple as that! I'm not out to be a hero, or to get glory, or any of that other crap. I just want to help fight some skitters, and if dying for the cause is something that I can't do at my age, then you can find an adult civilians and shot them instead of letting me die."
Mr. Mason looked shocked, though I thought I did pretty well on my second mini speech of the day. Well, except for that last part about shooting civilians, I think that put him off a little bit.
Mr. Mason's expression changed, and he actually smiled a little bit. Not a big smile, but a smile none the less. "Tell you what Michael." He said, rising from his seat, "I will think on your request and get back to you as soon as possible. Alright?" I could do nothing but nod and stand up myself, letting Mr. Mason lead me to the door.
Ben was still outside, resting on one of the lockers nearby. He snapped to attention when his father and I appeared out of their room. Mr. Mason smiled at his son, "Quite the friend you got here Ben. Very nice and respectful, I think that he could do well." He gave me an encouraging nod and turned back around, reentering his room. I turned to Ben, who looked thunderstruck.
"'Very nice and respectful'?" Ben said shocked, I shrugged, "Are you like you only around me?"
"Of course not Benny!" I said smiling, wrapping my arm around Ben's back while attempting to avoid the spikes. "Now come on, let's go get some food. I'm starving."
Later
It was late when I returned to room 117, much later than the curfew the fighters had set for us. Ben had made sure that we didn't get into any trouble with them, and while they respected Mr. Mason's son, they were still a little weary about the whole razor back thing.
Overall, the rest of the day with Ben was pretty good. We talked most of the time, and Ben's finally loosened up enough to begin teasing me back. That was good because now I don't feel as guilty about teasing him. There were stares and mutters of course about our growing friendship, but I found that I really didn't care that much.
I entered the room as quietly as I could, not wanting to make too much noise and wake everybody up. Unfortunately, someone was already up and I would have preferred that person be asleep.
"I heard an interesting story from Terry today." Uncle James said, looking directly at me with his most menacing glare.
"Didn't know Terry could tell stories, his brain just seems to be mush." I said casually. I knew that it was the wrong thing to say, but I was tired and maybe if I annoyed Uncle James enough he'll start yelling and wake everybody up. That ought to put him in his place.
Instead, he showed incredible restraint and pointed to the door. "Outside. Now." He said.
"There's a curfew, we can't leave this room." I said. Uncle James grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door, stopping himself from slamming it at the last second. He turned to me, where in the more illuminated hallway I could see the rage in his eyes.
"I told you not to go near those razor back! And what do you do? You go and make friends with one of them!" Uncle James said, his voice rising slightly.
"You didn't tell me anything! You told your kids that, not me!" I protested, already knowing that nothing I would say would make this situation any better. It would just make it worse.
"I was still talking to you!" Mr. Uncle protested.
"Then use my name next time!" I said, my own voice rising. "I have one of those!"
"Only because I've kept you alive! If it weren't for me, you would be dead! Just like your parents!"
"Please! All you've done is reinforce the name the fighters gave us civilians by eating through tons of our rations! You've done zip!"
Uncle James looked ready to explode, his hands forming into fist and his eye beginning to twitch. "Everybody knows that those razor backs are bad news! Just look at that black kid who was brought back first! He's all out there! Not saying anything to anybody and looking at everybody and everything like it worth shit! How long do you think it will be before they're all like that?"
Anger was building up in me now. Part of it was because he was insulting Ben in a way, and another because he only cared that I disobeyed him. He wasn't made about me being near 'razor backs' which in his mind would endanger my safety, he was mad because I had disobeyed something that he had said. And in his mind, what he says is law!
"Well you won't have to worry about me for long!" I said a bit too loudly, "As soon as I become a fighter you won't ever have to see me again!" Uncle James's eyes shot open in shock, his face growing redder by the second.
"You're going to be a fighter?" Uncle James could barely say, sputtering hard and his voice filled with awe shock.
"That's right! I don't need your approval or anything!"
"You're going to be a fighter…" My uncle said again, his voice trailing off.
"Something you or your insane son could never be!" I said, smiling as I did it.
Suddenly there was a very loud crack and I was blinded for a moment. I then realized that it was my skull that made that sound as the back of Uncle James's hand connected with my right temple. I stumbled back a bit and crashed into a couple of the lockers. My left temple hit the edge of one of the lockers, causing a shot of pain to move up and down my body.
I slumped down and saw my Uncle smiling, saying something that I couldn't hear since my head was still ringing. He got closer to me and I could hear what he was saying, "Find someplace new to stay fighter. You're not part of this family anymore."
Despite everything that had just happened, I smiled, "Thank God." I muttered. Uncle James sneered and his hand tightened into a fist. I thought he was going to slam it into me, but instead it went over my body and hit the locker above me. He got up, clutching his hand in pain, and reentered room 117.
My head was still ringing from the double blows and the whole hallway seemed to be shifting as I continued breathing heavily. Part of me had expected my Uncle at some point in our new relationship, but another part felt betrayed. How could he hit family? The hallway began to go black and everything seemed to be slipping away from me. I closed my eyes willingly, and said a silent prayer to please get me in with the fighters.
If I didn't become a fighter by the end of the week, I'm screwed.
Thank you to all my reviewers and people who have added my story to their favorites/story alerts. It's because of you that I feel such a drive to continue writing.
I have finally decided what I want to do with this story, and I will give a spoiler that Ben will attempt at a romance. The person will be an OC, but I thought it would be good for Ben to get some love.
Next Chapter is already planned out and almost finished, so expect a quick update. The next chapter will feature Jimmy and Michael, so be prepared for that!
And once again, REVIEW!
