We Rule the World

XVIII

Month Seven, Year One

10:12AM

For nearly a week now Silas had been patiently waiting for news, but everything that was coming to him was bits and pieces, nothing substantial in anyway. The thick of winter had made movement around Whitefall hard in the best of conditions, driving was now too much of a gamble unless you had the correct person behind the wheel and that was only Malcom Lovecraft or Joshua Finkalmore. Michael had worked ravenously trying to get leads on where the New, New Masons could be whilst avoiding the school where a bulk of their year still were, yet he still brought information hungry to correct his mistake and not jeopardise his position in the New Masons.

Silas lounged on his bed, focusing on the small amount of firepower they had against the New, New Masons, they had pistols with very limited ammunition going up against machineguns used in warzones the world over not including the tactical guns that were probably used by the government. It did not look good for the New Masons if they weren't able to get a large amount of their weapons back.

Around him most of the others lounged in his room, all of them doing something to pass the time. Nate, Birdy and Bradly sat at the ends of camping beds as the TV had all of their attentions, on the screen lights flashed and the cackle of videogame gunfire echoed. Wolf, Effy and Anthony debated about some soccer match from before the Event, this debate was slowly climbing louder and louder as the fiddled through a box of soccer jerseys. He wasn't sure if anyone else felt like there was a noose tightening around their necks but Silas certainly felt it, each day that passed he had a flurry of emotions and fears, he worried that the New, New Masons would come forward and tell everyone that they gave the guns to the Watchmen which would then bring scrutiny on the New Masons for bringing weapons into Whitefall in the first place. He worried that any moment they would show up at his front door and start firing or worse kick him out stripping him of everything he had gained.

NO!

No, they would have to kill him before he'd agree to be stripped of everything that he had gained. No doubt one of them would have the balls to pull the trigger, death was a commonality of life right about now as he was almost guaranteed to hear about someone new dying each week. If the New, New Masons attacked then he would just be one of those dead people hear about. Another in a very long list.

He just needed to be patient and eventually something worthwhile would come to him. Considering the conditions outside this would hinder the New, New Masons movements just as much as his own which was probably why it was hard to find out where they were, because they were acting like mice only poking the heads out every so often. In time he would snare the New, New Masons and bring hellfire upon them for screwing him over.

The next few days were filled with much the same activities and routines of Silas's thought, the guys lapsed into schedules for playing the console and by the night they would often congregate to play poker but inbetween that time they mostly done anything to kill time. All whilst the fear of everything still persisted amongst all of them, Silas knew that some people were having trouble sleeping because of the trepidation they felt. Each and every day like life on repeat, he once thought of routines as good things but then there was whatever this was and he realised that this wasn't good, this was barely living. Apparently, everyone felt like their death was a certainty.

Lounging on his bed, Silas skimmed through an agriculture book as he hoped to gain some ideas about farming maybe focus on self-sustainability, but his mind just couldn't focus as he heard Nate, Effy, Anthony, Christof, Blair, Wolf, Malcom & Josh playing poker betting with monopoly money and poker chips. For once in a long time nobody used the TV but it was still played for background noise as the OC's theme song blasted through the speakers.