The Division

Chapter 7

Weeks past. Life in Edgewood was like Wellington, though it wasn't military, but it had the same characteristics. We were basically stuck there. Just like in Wellington, they wouldn't let us out unless we were infected. I was mad that they took our RV; they stored it on a parking garage. Luckily they towed it, so I got to keep the keys. Life kind of felt normal for once. Kids were playing soccer outside, adults were having dinner parties, and teenagers were being teenagers. It felt as if there were no apocalypse at all.

It was like season 3 in The Walking Dead. With the governor, being crazy and all. Paul suspected that the leader of Edgewood was a psycho, but I disagreed with him. We both still agreed that there was something fishy about this place. They were brainwashing us, making us think that we were safe from all the outside dangers. In fact, we weren't even allowed to be near the wall. If you did, it earned to a night without a dinner. All three of us wanted to keep a low profile, so we stayed in our house most of the time.

Life was great, up until I discovered what went on below Edgewood. It was a Saturday night, Jesse was out on a date with a girl he just met that day, and I was chilling in front of the couch playing some of the Video games that Jesse brought. Paul was in the shower, so I was alone downstairs. I heard a knock on the door; I had paused my game and went over to see who it was. I opened the door to see an older man, about forty. He had a brown ponytail with a scruffy beard. I could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath. He cleared his throat and prepared to speak. Instead, he pointed a 1911 pistol at me.

I put my hands up; he didn't even have to speak. "Good, you are cooperating." He said as he motioned for me to follow him. He led me to the house next door, with my hands up in a zip tie. Once I got into his house, he led me downstairs into his basement. "Sit down." He said as he pulled up a chair from behind him. "Wait, can I stretch?" I asked him. "Very well." He said. I didn't expect that. I had expected him to not let me stretch. He pointed the gun at me as I raised my arms up. I knew how to get out of a zip tie. All you had to do was raise your arms up then bring them down with force on your stomach or knees. I made my arms go down quickly as I hit them against my knees. The force made the zip tie snap open as I jumped on the man. He flinched as I did this.

We wrestled for the gun, but he was too strong. He got me on the ground and pointed the gun at my face. "So you know some fancy moves boy?" He asked. He laughed then held out a hand. I took it and then he pulled me up. "What do you want?" I asked, worried and confused. He was no longer pointing the gun at me. "You are Riley Brody?" "Yeah I am, why do you have a gun?" "It was just to make sure that you would come with me." He offered the gun to me. I immediately took it. I didn't point it at him; I held it facing the ground.

The man walked over to a door, then unlocked it with a key in his pocket. He held out his hand. "I'm Harold Reed." He said as I shook his hand. "I thought you were going to kill me." I said, relived. "We can't kill our leader." He said. He noticed my Tattoos. "Where did you get those ugly things?" Harold asked. "I was forced to get them..." I trailed off.

"By the skulls?" He asked. "How did you-?" I asked, but he cut me off. "We'll discuss it when we're downstairs. Harold and I started descending down the stairs. This man living next to me wasn't a coincidence. He must have moved next to us they day we moved into Edgewood. It really wasn't creepy; we were in an apocalypse for god's sake. Once we got to the room it was overwhelming.

It was a tremendous room, so many of people occupied it. I was standing on a wooden plank that led to a stairway down to the floor. I looked down, I was so high up. I felt dizzy. Probably the room consisted of tables where people talked. As we descended down the stairs, Harold explained how he knew I was tattooed by the Skulls. He had overhead me talking with Jesse outside the other day.

As we walked, I looked at the people in the room. Mostly rednecks and rebels. I was a little intimidated by how many people there were in the room. Probably two thousand people in the room. When they saw me they cheered.

I was confused. Why were they happy that I was here? Was I like a savior to them? Some of them held up assault rifles. Harold led me down the stairs to a mob of people. Four people took me by my legs and lifted me up, the mob following me.

"STOP!" I yelled, but it was no use. I held up my gun and fired a bullet at the ceiling. The room fell dead silent. "Why are you doing this?" I yelled. "You are the savior Riley; you can lead us to victory!" Someone called out. "Victory where?" I asked. "Out of this Hellhole." Someone else called out. "But I can't." I said. I stopped and looked at the crowd of two thousand people. Harold approached me and held out an assault rifle at me. I took it and held it up. As I did that, I screamed a war cry, pleading allegiance to my supporters.