Roman
With the streetlights out and the city on lockdown, the streets took on a deserted quality I’d never seen before. Our headlight beams swept the sidewalks and open road, bouncing off windows in the high-rises where flickers of candles and flashlights lit up the homes inside.
“How was it out there?” Sgt. Lutten leaned across the bench seat in the back of the Humvee, asking Marcus and me about our time in the wild lands. “Are you each going to grow an extra limb or something now?”
Marcus didn’t even crack a smile as he kept the death grip on the wheel. The rest of our unit elbowed each other, making jokes to ease the tension inside the cramped military vehicle.
I turned to look them over, watching as they covered their grins at the scowling look on my face, then settled back against my seat.
“Guess you’ll have to wait to find out,” I said.
The teasing started again.
I’d actually missed working with them, but I could’ve gone another few weeks without the stink of us all crammed into close quarters like this. The time I’d spent doing the council’s bidding must’ve spoiled me.
Being with Meg had spoiled me.
I needed to remember what my job was—and who I was—before becoming a slave to the council.
Worry ate at my resolve when I thought of how Meg would be handling everything. At least the farce of a wedding was off. I wished she’d stayed with her family while I figured out how to take care of my men here and get them safely through this mess.
I didn’t blame them for blowing off some steam and trying to make light of the situation.
Enforcing martial law on our own streets and on our own families was the last thing any of us wanted to be doing.
We were a show of force, keeping the peace in the city and reminding them that the council had the power to care for all citizens, while leadership scrambled to make a plan.
Sure, we’d trained for this exact scenario.
Training and doing were two different things.
“Citizen up ahead,” Sgt. Stone called from his position managing the big gun up top.
Silence fell inside the vehicle.
Sgt. Lutten picked up the loud speaker, his voice robotic and reading from a script. “Curfew is now in effect. Return to your assigned residence. This is not a drill.”
Our lights swept over the man in the street who turned to us, caught with bloodshot eyes in the too-bright glare.
“This is all your fault!” he screamed. “You let in the mutants. We’re under attack. They’re going to be here any minute.”
“Great, a nutcase,” Marcus muttered under his breath.
“Go back to your residence,” Lutten repeated. “This is not a drill.”
The man on the street raised two middle fingers in the air.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Yemen asked Jacques as they crouched near the back doors. The two corporals raised their fists, determining who would exit the vehicle first.
I climbed over my chair, putting my hand on Yemen’s shoulder to hold him back.
“LT?” He glanced up at me.
“I’ll take care of it.” I tossed one final look at Marcus, and my old friend nodded.
“Cover the lieutenant,” he said.
My boots hit the street, and I slid my visor into place, readying my weapon.
I wasn’t sure why I thought of Meg at that moment—not that she’d been far from my thoughts all night—but this was the part of Ethica and my job I hoped she’d never see.
Am I a coward for wanting her somewhere safe?
According to the colonel and the goddess, the wedding was off. She had no reason to be here, and I’d left her at the councilwoman’s house, thinking that was the best place.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
“Don’t touch me, pig,” the man snarled, stumbling away from my outstretched hand. “I have rights. I’m a citizen.”
I didn’t know what fantasy world he was living in. “Sir, if you don’t return to your residence, I’m going to have to arrest you,” I told him as calmly as I could.
He stuck out his chin. “And take me where? To what prison? How are you going to feed me there? Or is this an execution? Because if they don’t turn back on the power, we’re all going to starve anyway. Might as well end it faster.”
He wasn’t saying anything I didn’t already know, but my job was to keep the peace.
The man stepped back to the curb, cupping his hands over his mouth. “Do you hear that? We’re all going to starve! Then the mutants will come and eat the flesh from our bones and—”
His eyes widened as I injected him with a non-lethal dose of midazolam.
The sedative quickly worked its way through his system and he sagged in my arms as a dopey smile softened his face.
Docile, just how Ethica liked its citizens.
I eased him to the sidewalk. The main doors of the apartment complex slammed open.
“Grandpa!” The young woman rushed to his side. She was early-twenties, still wearing her uniform from work for the day.
Protocol said I needed to bring him in, maybe her too, for dissent and disrupting the peace.
I was so tired that I wanted nothing more than to sit on the curb next to them and close my eyes.
“Get him inside,” I told her. My tone left no room for argument.
Her hands shook as she pulled him to his feet.
The man swayed, pointing a finger in my direction. “You… son… you work for… me.”
“Hush now,” she cried, hurrying to help him inside.
I waited until the doors closed. Until the city street was quiet again. And didn’t bother to look up at the windows, where I was sure we had an audience.
I crawled back into the vehicle, past the stunned faces of my unit, and climbed onto my seat again.
“Roll out,” I told Marcus.
The tire treads ate the asphalt beneath us.
“Lieutenant?” Corporal Yemen asked.
After too long a beat of silence, I sighed, knowing I owed them some sort of explanation.
I wished it was better than the one I had.
“Things are only going to get worse from here,” I said. “I’m not ready to start shooting citizens.”