Claire Randall Fraser - Well, thank you, m'dear! I'm trying a little bit of a new writing style.
itsi3 - Always a game plan. ^_^
ArcheryLefty - Thank you! Such a kind review! Nice to hear from you again!
RandomMoonshadow - And I've been waiting to hear from you again. ;)
Guest - I'm looking forward to Daryl's storyline. It should be coming soon.
Guest(2) - I wouldn't trust Devlin either.
stargazr41 - Carol is amazing when she's fired up.
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Chapter Thirty-Five: This Land Is Nobody's Land
**Kravitz**
The last five years before it all went horribly wrong, were the hardest for him.
He took his papers and left the armed forces and learned that he missed the routine of the army. It turned out too, that he wasn't cut out for teaching, not like he thought he'd be. English was his passion, but he struggled with students who just didn't care. They were high school brats who didn't want to learn about Poe or Yeats.
Five months after leaving the army, she was home alone when an armed assailant invaded and killed her for a handful of her gold jewellery and forty-three dollars.
And then the dead wouldn't stay dead.
Of course, oddly enough, at that moment in time, the dead walking around were the least of his problems. In all actuality, they distracted him from his abject misery.
Now it was routine again. Get up, get washed, a little morning exercise, then do his rounds. He worked from the outside in. The wall and gate, the little tented city, supplies, personnel, the main building, mess hall, supplies again, then up to the General's office, hoping that it was the day the President would allow an audience.
Get up.
The voice commanding him to move about his daily life was always Joan's. His wife was still guiding him through the worst of it.
Get up, she'd order. And much like any previous morning's, he would open his eyes and groggily sit up.
Already he could hear his mother dressing Dinah, his father would no doubt be sitting on his rickety chair just outside the tent, book in hand, thick coke bottle glasses perched on the end of his rather pointed nose. His parents wouldn't have gone to the mess tent for breakfast yet, not without him.
Since everything, he noticed they had clung rather close to him. He knew it was out of confusion and fear, both weren't very spry or young, it was just dumb luck that he had happened upon the men sent out by the President who were recruiting military personnel.
They had accepted him, he was after all former military, but they placed him properly, he felt. He was too old to go out and hunt those infected down like the Major-General, but too smart to be a simple grunt.
Glancing up as he rubbed a hand over his morning stubble, he found his daughter peering at him sombrely from the tent flap and offered her a small, encouraging grin.
She beamed back at him and flung herself onto his cot and into his lap.
"Morning," she greeted.
"Good morning," he returned. "What's that smell?"
"Peppermint," Dinah replied, leaning in and blowing in his face. "See?"
As his daughter smacked her lips, he playfully tickled her ribs, sending her into a squealing fit.
"I take it the fresh breath means you brushed already?" He asked.
"Yes, sir!" His daughter jumped down from the cot and her father's arms to stand and rigidly salute him.
He returned it.
Going over to her little pack where his daughter kept all her things, Dinah picked up her brush and a pretty little ribbon. She came over almost shyly and held them up to him.
He smiled and patted his lap.
Settling in it, his daughter sat still while he brushed and braided her hair after five years he still wasn't the quickest or best hairstylist for his little girl, but he still tried because Dinah seemed to enjoy the time spent with him.
"Will you say it?" Dinah asked him after a bit.
Smiling, he spat the ribbon out from between his lips onto the cot at their side and began softly:
"Do you ask what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,
The linner and thrush say, 'I love and I love!'
In the winter they're silent - the wind is so strong;
What it says, I don't know, but it sings a loud song.
But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,
And singing, and loving - all come back together.
But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,
The green fields below him, the blue sky above,
That he sings, and he sings; and for ever sings he-
'I love my Love, and my Love loves me!'"
As he finished Dinah's hair, he gave the braid a gentle, playful tug, before releasing her to slip from his knee.
Hesitating before she left, Dinah swayed on her feet, eyeing him with her beautiful brown eyes.
"What is it, raven?" He asked.
"Nevermore," she chirped with a shy grin, before hurrying out from the tent.
Huffing, he jabbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands until he saw stars.
Another long day stretched before him.
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Standing on the wall later with a coffee cup in hand, he gazed out over the Florida wilds below.
His grandfather's winding watch told him that it was nearly nine. At nine he would get down from the wall, as he did every morning, and wind his way through the tent city towards the main building where he'd wait until eleven in the office of the General.
A General he had never met personally.
Taking a sip of coffee, he narrowed his eyes.
Of course it sit well with him. This whole business of getting orders from ghosts, but he had a family to think of. He was almost afraid to stir the pot too much.
Turning away from the empty nothingness of the forest, he made his way down from the wall and headed through the tent city, weaving his way leisurely towards the main building, keeping his eyes out for the safety of his personnel.
As he pushed open the doors into the main building, the very first thing he saw was a pair of cold, angry looking blue eyes.
"Ah, Mrs. Vancoughnett," he greeted warmly. "Good morning."
"Do you have a moment, Colonel?" She inquired. The frost in her tone pushing him into a more cautious state.
"Ye-es."
She grabbed hold of him by the upper arm and led him roughly into a small corner of the building's shiny foyer.
"What the hell is going on here?" She demanded as soon as she had him good and cornered.
He clasped his clipboard to his chest and licked his bottom lip. "I'm sorry?"
"Th—my husband and I were taken into custody last night," she hissed. "For asking too many questions?!"
"You were taken into custody?" He inquired.
"By that creep Devlin, what is he? Military Intelligence?" She went on.
Opening his mouth, he found himself cut off as she went on.
"Where's the President? Why can't we speak with him?"
Sensing an encroaching darkness, he cleared his throat and went into self-preservation mode, thinking only of Dinah.
"Mrs. Vancoughnett, I'm afraid I can't help you. I wish you all the best in your endeavours, but—"
Carol backed down a little, eyes still hard, but face reading understanding. "I need answers," she whispered.
"I can't help you," he said. It was almost a plea. "I'm sorry." Reaching out with his free hand, he touched her shoulder lightly, before pulling away and hurrying off like the coward he was.
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"Colonel Kravitz," someone called out, pronouncing his name with the proper accent.
Standing by the General's door, he exhaled, before turning around.
Major Devlin approached with a grin.
"I love saying your name. Kravitz," he repeated in the same accent. "So full of phlegm."
"Major Devlin," he greeted. "How may I help you?"
Devlin smiled like the slimy eel he was, it was full and plastic like one of Dinah's Ken doll's. More fang than any man should have in his mouth.
"Come with me, Colonel, if you have a moment?"
"Not now, Major, I have an—"
"Appointment? With the General, right?" Devlin said. "Tell me, does he have a moustache these days? Peg leg? One eye? Beard? Or is he a she? Oh! The fun I have just imaging the old boy…girl? Come along, he'll still be there when we return."
Drumming his fingers on his clipboard, Kravitz gave in with a slight nod.
"Good man," Devlin said, leading them away from the door.
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They stood on the rooftop of the building, looking out over the tent city.
Devlin, smiling smugly, remarked, "you know, I could have you killed, if I wanted. But I was never afraid of dirtying my own hands."
Kravitz saw through the man's disarming technique and replied just as calmly, "I could shove you off this roof and no one would care."
The man beside him chuckled. "Come now, Kravitz, we're on the same side."
"Of course we are, we're both armed forces personnel."
"I think you're smarter than that, Kravitz."
"That's Colonel, Major," Kravitz returned icily. "Don't forget that I outrank you."
"Outranked, outclassed, but never outwitted." Devlin stated.
"I will push you from this rooftop myself, Devlin," he said firmly, offering the man a small, dry grin. "Get to your point."
"You're really beautiful when you get all authoritative," Devlin gushed.
Kravitz offered him a simple 'hmm' in response.
"Alright, cutting the bullshit," Devlin said, tucking his hands behind his back casually. "You and I both know that there's no President. I doubt there's even a General leading us."
"Oh?" Kravitz inquired.
"Picture it, there's no law, the dead are walking around chewing on people, roving gangs of murders and rapists and you're one small blonde woman. What do you do?"
Kravitz almost rolled his eyes at the suggestion.
Beside him, Devlin smiled proudly.
"I'm sorry for your parents," Kravitz said after a moment. "It couldn't have been easy raising a child with ground beef for a brain."
"They managed," Devlin returned.
"Okay, so little secretarial Ms. Hartwell is a mastermind, running us like an army for her own safety while she sits in an ivory tower giving orders? I think I read this one in a dime store novel," Kravitz said.
"Scoff if you will, Colonel, but unless we see a General. I'm talking gold stars, then I don't think such a thing exists. And you're not so dumb as to think there's really a General too, I know you have your suspicions." Devlin shuffled in a little closer to him. "And what do you think is going to happen when those soldiers down there find out that there's no one leading them? That's an awfully big vacuous hole to fill. I'm guessing after they're done toasting Ms. Hartwell over an open flame for her deception, they'll turn on the superior officers who followed her orders and gave the commands…"
Kravitz looked at him grimly, soaking it all in. Never had the thought occurred to him that he would be to blame for someone else's lies.
"I know what kinds of dirty deeds the Major-General has been performing for this woman, but what about you? What kinds of horrors have you been doing?"
He was quiet. There wasn't anything on him beyond running a smooth ship. But what had the Major-General been up to? This was news to him.
"I've been in the middle of a few societal and political coups," Devlin bragged. "But this one should be pretty bloody. I could only imagine the betrayal they'll all feel." He turned to face Kravitz fully. "If you're lucky, you'll get the Hussein treatment. A short drop and quick stop, if you're unlucky…I'd say Mussolini?"
"My men wouldn't," Kravitz said. "They know I have their best interests at heart."
"Man is but a monster restrained by a thin string tied to the big toe of a God," Devlin said. "Without a God, with enough force, they will be unleashed." Suddenly, the man stepped away with a sniff, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "Well! Think it may get warmer tomorrow!"
As Devlin made to pass him by for the stairs, Kravitz caught him and whispered roughly, "I don't like being manipulated, Major."
The prematurely silver haired man grinned at him. "Why does everyone assume I'm manipulating them? I'm only concerned for you, Colonel."
"Bullshit," Kravitz hissed.
"Think what you will," Devlin said flippantly. "But just give it some thought. Let me know what your plans are, Colonel. We can work together."
Well, Kravitz wasn't sure about that. But the Major had given him a lot to think about and unfortunately the top of his concerns at that moment were his family. If something did happen, if the troops did revolt or start throwing blame, he most certainly would be in the line of fire.
He had to get his family out, just to be safe.
His thoughts turned to Carol and Lieutenant Vancoughnett and the children they were trying to get home to.
It was time he did something instead of withering away filling out order forms and taking personnel complaints about lack of supplies.
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Lieutenant Vancoughnett was still stuck in the small supply closet, when Colonel Kravitz stepped inside.
The other soldiers with him glanced up, but returned to work at the sight of him. No one really paid any heed to him usually. Kravitz didn't demand the full on salute like Gauthier did.
"Lieutenant," he greeted.
The tall, dark haired Cajun continued counting dry lima beans into ration packs. "Colonel?"
"Could I have a word?"
He had chosen to go to the Lieutenant instead of his wife out of a firm belief that she could very well be watched. It didn't go to say that Lieutenant Vancoughnett wouldn't be watched either, but two military men talking was probably a little more believable than a married woman and an army Colonel.
"Sergeant Bilko?!" Lieutenant Vancoughnett barked. "Mind if I step out with the Colonel?"
Brandt stuck his head up from his paperwork and frowned darkly. "Lieutenant—"
"Thank you, Captain Brandt," Kravitz said quickly. "I won't take but a minute with him."
"Brandt," Vancoughnett murmured loudly. "That's his name!"
Stepping out of the closet with Lieutenant Vancoughnett, Kravitz manoeuvered them far enough away that he could speak fairly freely. Guiding Lafayette into an empty room used for package storage.
It smelled of cardboard boxes and Styrofoam.
"Colonel, did you know Carol and I were—"
"I know everything, Lieutenant, listen," he cut him off swiftly. "I can get you and Carol out of here, but I need a favour from you and a bit of a promise."
Vancoughnett quirked a dark brow. "Alright, I guess."
"Tonight, I can distract the back gate guards, not for long and I can't give you an accurate window of time, but if you see me heading towards the South facing guard tower, you gather your wife and get out."
The Lieutenant narrowed his eyes a little suspiciously at him, but the Colonel went on explaining.
"We're sitting on a powder keg here, I don't think we have much time left as a cohesive unit."
"What are you saying, Colonel?" The other man asked.
"I don't know, but tonight keep your eyes on the main area of the city, I'll keep to the main area when I head to the tower. Then you sneak out with Carol."
"And? The promise you want me to keep?" The Lieutenant asked.
"My parents and daughter will meet you at the gate, take care of them."
Lafayette's eyebrows touched his hairline.
"Keep them safe. I know you'll be in Georgia somewhere. If I make it out, I'll find you."
As the other man opened his mouth, Kravitz cut him off swiftly. "I know it's a big favour to ask, but…I don't know what's going to happen here, but something has to give."
"Come with us, Colonel," the man offered.
Kravitz shook his head. "No, these are my troops. I can't leave them, whatever happens."
"Colonel—"
"Tonight, at light's out, about half past."
"Just what's going on here, Colonel?"
"I don't know," he replied earnestly. "But I'm going to find out. Just promise me you'll be there tonight and that you'll take care of my family."
It was a moment, before the man nodded. "I will, Colonel. You have my word."