Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Apocalypse

23) The Resistance

Prince Torin, I mean Jack Taylor, is right. The group camping at East Central High School is a rag-tag group of about sixty refugees. According to their leader, a young woman not much older than myself called Leia, they have been in several skirmishes with The One Nation Army. They are what Leia calls -The Resistance.

Leia is beautiful in such a way that even a man-made catastrophe cannot hide it. She is petite and delicate, but I sense she is much tougher than she looks. She recognizes me right away. "You are Eliot. Steven told us about you. You're his friend, and Steven is our friend too. We're part of the Resistance. We support the United States," Leia tells me with conviction. "The One Nation Army cannot win."

"So, why do you call yourself the Resistance if you support our country?"

"Well, it was called the Resistance before I joined up. Started with some retired soldiers out of Baltimore is what I heard. They named themselves that because we're not winning. We're the Resistance just like in France in World War ll. One Nation uses all that patriotic mumbo jumbo to trick people. The One Nation Army is winning, but they cannot win."

"What do you know about them?"

"If you read about the Nazis during World War II, then you know what they're like. They are killing anyone they believe is different. Anyone they believe is a burden or weak - the elderly, the sick, sometimes children."

"How do you know?" I ask because I know there have been rumors and propaganda, and that words carry faster than the truth when fear is attached.

"Because I was in DC. I saw them set fire to George Washington Hospital on the ground floors so no one could get out. People were jumping. I saw them separate families and throw babies off the 14th Street Bridge. I saw this."

"How did you get away?" I ask.

"I joined them," Leia says as she hangs her head. "I am not proud of it. Join or die, they said."

I look around at the others. They nod. I know they are telling me the truth by the look of shame on their faces.

"But we got away," says an older man called Adam. "Leia helped us."

"And we been trying to make up for what we done since," says a woman named Eva. "We are trying to help others."

"Rule number one," I say, "help others." And then I ask, "Why do you want the prince? Is it for the reward? It will feed a lot of people."

"We saw this." Leia shows me the poster of Prince Torin. "We talked to Steven who was taking them down. He said the One Nation Army is looking for this man. He didn't know why. He called him a prince. We told Steven that we are the Resistance, and that we have sworn a vendetta against One Nation. He gave us a few apples for the children, and one of them told Steven about One Nation killing her baby brother. Steven is kind. He told us to come to this school and hide and rest, and that he would come by after he checked on his Nana. He said he would help us."

"That sounds like Steven."

"We told him we would protect his prince. We've been waiting. We haven't seen the prince or Steven, but we will wait. We need to rest. Find some gas for our vehicles." She points towards a dump truck, a couple of cars, and a beaten up bus.

"I think the bus is ok parked here, but I'd hide the other vehicles. Might attract attention." And then I ask, "Why the bus?"

"It came with kids. We couldn't leave them behind. Some of our U.S. soldiers evacuating them abandoned them when it ran out of gas."

I look at the children. Would I have left them behind? I hope not, but I don't know. Dad's rule was travel light, no burdens or problems. Would I have walked on by a broken-down bus loaded with kids? I hope I never have to decide.

"I think you'll be safe here for a few days," I say. I tell them that I 'm not sure what happened to Steven, but I'm going to find him. "There is a locked hallway," I point towards the history wing,  "and there may be food and supplies you need there." I tell them where to look. "I will be back." I look at the children and remember Steven's rule - help others. "I will help you."

"We will help you too," says Leia. "Be safe."

On my way to see Mr. Johnson at The Mount Airy Daily News, I stop by Steven's house. I do not want to, but I want to make sure he is not there, and I want to at least cover Officer Simpson up. I hope the dogs haven't gotten him yet. They are running in packs now.

It was disrespectful to leave the officer yesterday, but I was so afraid and distraught that I was only thinking about myself. When I pull up on my bike, close enough to see the street in front of Steven's, I am relieved but a little afraid to see that Officer Simpson is gone. I hope some of his friends found him and took him home. I hope that his family is saying their dearly departeds over him right now. Then, I hope his family is getting out of Dodge. It is not safe here, and the large bloody spot in the road where Officer Simpson fell is evidence of this. More evidence that, just like I told Steven, our world is gone.

I go inside the house. Nobody is home. I notice things today. Nana's fuzzy slippers are on the floor. I hope she is not cold. I hope she still has her gun hidden somewhere. This thought helps me remember that Nana said Grandpa George kept ammunition in the back. I go searching in her back bedroom and in the closet, and stuck way back behind some old mothball smelling dresses, there is a locked crate. I pull it out and pick the lock.

 Locks keep others out, but not me. 

I find more than ammunition. Apparently, George was getting ready for the end of the world too. There is a whole arsenal of weapons here: six handguns, four rifles, a sawed off shotgun (damn, George), two automatic weapons, and what looks like twelve grenades (damn, George). I am impressed by George's foresight and level of preparation (thank you, George).

I put the crate back in the closet behind the smelly dresses. I will be back for them later. Next, I ride to see the editor of the local paper. I have some questions to ask. I don't think he has been telling his readers everything he knows. An informed public is important to democracy, according to one of my probably dead now history teachers. We must question where we get our facts, he said, and that is what I am going to do.