The Hope War: Chapter 2

“The most devastating storm this small town has seen in over a decade is ending. After nearly four days of nonstop heavy rain, it has reduced to a light sprinkle and the clouds are expected to be gone by the end of the day. Meanwhile, the community has come together to clean up the damage throughout the town.”

The news was all anybody watched, and Angie wasn’t going to be an exception. Even though the soldiers had full control over the media and could choose what was reported, the news was still the only access to the outside world. It allowed her to see what was happening around her, such as general areas where rebels were stationed, if the disease was spreading, if so where it was spreading and what was happening to the individuals infected, how the military and government was dealing with these and other issues, and so on. She liked to be informed.

It was early in the morning, just after seven and Angie had been up for hours. She never could sleep well when it rained. The only real rest she got that night was when Brady was still with her, but he had left to go to work. It was still dark from the rain clouds. Occasionally a strike of lighting would touchdown in the distance.

When she was young, her dad would tease her about her fear of thunderstorms while her mom comforted her. Since then, things had changed. Her dad was no longer around to tease her, and it had been a while since she and her mom held each other for comfort. Even the thunderstorms that she hated so much had become tolerable and she lived with them, even using them as an advantage when needed.

“Rebels are advancing northward. The military has been doing all they can to slow and hopefully stop these dangerous groups. Two towns have already been breached by this movement leaving one of the towns in quarantine while the other is an official Dead Zone. Nine of our brave servicemen and women have lost their lives in this recent rebel movement.”

A small town in the western United States was where she called home. It was the only home she had ever known. It was a beautiful valley surrounded by monstrous mountains that hid them from the rest of the world. Outside goods were brought in by soldiers who were supposed to serve and protect, yet many had hidden agendas and too much control which led to controversy. Those who abused their control couldn’t be trusted and were referred to as Rats by Angie and her friends. Rats were quickly taken care of.

When Black Fever broke out, a military leader by the name of Malin Weaver issued the first of many quarantines starting in Georgia and quickly spreading to nearby states. Angie’s dad was taken from her then. In those ten years, he only visited a few times because of the risk spreading the sickness. Two years had passed since she last saw him and in his absence, there was change. She had changed.

The whole Country was in a sort of quarantine where it was difficult to leave fenced in areas. Those caught outside of the fences couldn’t return until cleared by soldiers. Often, those outside the fence were simply executed in fear. Since the outbreak, quarantines became something a little different than first intended. The whole area is shut down and if the disease isn’t cleared within 24 hours, the quarantine becomes permanent. Few specialty scientists enter, and no one leaves because of the high risk of the disease. Soldiers heavily guard these areas and shoot anybody who tries to escape while experiments and treatments are done within the fence. In the end the quarantined area always turns into a Dead Zone. Soldiers are withdrawn from the area and reassigned, leaving any survivors alone to fend for themselves. There is no hope once the disease hits.

Dead Zones aren’t usually touched by soldiers. It’s these areas that rebels and the infected roam. It’s these areas that are ever increasing and death is constant. The areas nightmares are made of.

There was a familiar flash of light on the screen and Angie automatically looked up. It was film of the flood waters, and a reporter explained the situation. A three-year old child had fallen into the water and there was little chance for survival. The only thing the onlookers could do was watch in horror.

But then a boy dove into the water and miraculously saved the child. It was hard to see who the hero was, and it was an absolute miracle either came out of the flood alive. By the time the two made it back to safety, a crowd had formed and the reporters mauled the hero just after he handed the child back to a frantic and extremely grateful mother.

The hero was Brady. He was only on screen for a few seconds as the reporter tried to get him to speak. He was stubborn though. With a glare and quick thinking, he disappeared from the spotlight and left everyone at the scene wondering where he went. The event was so interesting that it made national news. Everybody in America knew there was some boy in a small western town that saved a toddler from drowning. Everyone wanted to know who this boy was.

Brady’s segment left the screen as a new story came up about some idiot who got a tattoo imitating the black veins associated with the disease. At that time Lain entered the kitchen and Angie instinctively turned the volume down. It had been a hard night for everyone and her older brother was undoubtedly going to bring up what happened.

“You’re awake,” he remarked while rubbing his swollen eyes.

“You know I can’t sleep when it rains.” It was hard for her to look at her brother for a couple reasons. One because of what happened the night before and another because he looked so much like their father. She pretended to be interested in the counter while he searched around in the cupboard for a glass that he promptly filled with water.

He was hesitant to speak and tapped the full glass as he thought. “I told Mom I would talk to you.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said solemnly.

“Angie.”

She looked at him then and held eye contact. “I’m not leaving. It’s my decision.” The hurt in his eyes was more than she could handle and she looked back down at the counter. “Dad said he was coming home and I’m going to be here when he finally does. He promised.”

Lain still didn’t take a drink but held the glass firmly and he pushed against the counter, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. It took every ounce of strength for him to say what he said next. “Dad’s not coming home.”

Angie snapped. “Show me a body!” she shouted as tears attacked again. “Show me a damn body and I’ll believe you.” She clenched her fists together so that her own knuckles turned white. Control, she needed to keep her emotions under control. “Lain, you can’t force me to go. I’m not giving up on Dad. I’m not giving up on this town.”

Everything went quiet and the light rain could be heard falling to the soaked ground. It seemed that Lain was so appalled or shocked by her words that he didn’t know what to say right off.

She rid herself of the tears ferociously and stood to leave the room. If she didn’t go, she was going to fight, which wasn’t something anybody needed. When she turned to go, she was surprised to see her sisters standing by the stairs.

Identical twins, they were the only surviving ones in the entire town, and though they looked the same they weren’t. Brynlee was the leader of the two, always being the first to speak and make decisions. She cared little about her looks, usually pulling her messy brown hair in a quick ponytail or letting it cover her wild hazel eyes. She always questioned the events going on around her and wanted to know what was happening in the world. There was a scar on her cheek that went with another under her chin from a dog bite. She loved her scars and smiled every time they were pointed out.

Whitley on the other hand was quiet and judged people silently, her expressions showing approval or disapproval before she ever spoke. Unlike her twin, her hair was worn in a neat bun and her cloths were almost always free from dirt. She didn’t like to stir up trouble like her sister or get in other people’s businesses. She liked to blend into the background and go unnoticed.

“We don’t want to leave either.” As always, it was Brynlee that spoke first. When she said this, Lain exhaled in frustration and hit the counter with his fist.

“Damnit Angie, do you not understand what is going on? The rebels are coming, which means the disease could hit. It’s dangerous to stay here.”

“Life is dangerous,” Angie shot back. “It’s always going to be dangerous, Lain, and I’m sick of living in fear.”

“Angie, you don’t understand. You will get sick if you stay. The disease will hit and you are not going to be able to escape it. You’re not special, it will kill you. This town will kill you.”

“Stop saying that!” Angie’s voice raised considerably. She tried to keep control of her emotions and turned away from the twins while Jocelyn’s words from the night before matched her brothers. “I don’t care. I’m going to fight. I’m not going to be a victim.”

The full glass of water suddenly exploded on the counter. Lain was furious and released his anger on the object which sent water and glass in a million directions. It also cut his hand and blood spilled onto the counter among the mess. This was a surprise. Lain was an easy-going guy who was slow to anger and cared for everything in his life whether it be a person or an object.

The twins shrunk away from the scene and hid near the stairs, Brynlee protecting Whitley by standing out in front. Meanwhile, Angie studied her brother and started to notice some things about him that she didn’t before. He was tired, but the dark circles around his eyes were from more than exhaustion. Light bruises appeared on his arms where veins were most visible.

“You can’t fight,” he said through a clenched jaw. “You will become a victim.”

“What is going on out here?” their mother’s frantic voice came from down the hall. “Something broke.” She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the scene and didn’t know if she should be angry, concerned, or both.

After noticing Lain, Angie’s mind started to run. The presence of danger put her in a protective and active mode. The twins and their mother needed to be away from the situation without realizing what could be happening and Lain needed to cool down. “We’re fine,” Angie said quickly. “I’m just,” she thought a moment, “I just don’t want to go.”

Frustration came across her mom’s face. “Angela,” she began.

“But I’ll go,” she lied. “I’ll go.” She glanced at the clock. “You guys should get to school. I’ll help Lain clean up.”

Lain blinked a few times behind his glasses and then slowly reached for a dish rag. The injury to his hand would need stitches and he used the rag to cover it. “Sorry,” he apologized to everyone in the room.

The tension died down and their poor mother agreed to leave before being late for work. “Let’s go,” she told the twins who were ready to leave. She snatched up her keys from the table and pulled her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll be home by three. We’ll go through what we can and can’t bring and be ready to leave in the morning. Mike will come by to help. Love you.”

“Love you too,” the two oldest kids said in unison. The door to the garage closed and soon they were alone.

Lain held his bleeding hand tight and the darkened blood soaked into the rag quickly. Looking at the mess he made, he let out a sigh before peering up at her. “I can get this. You need to get to school anyways.”

Angie’s mind was whirling. “Lain, are you feeling okay?”

Slight confusion came across his face. “No. How could I be after everything that has happened?”

“I mean,” she continued slowly, “are you physically okay? Fatigued? Nauseous?” She hesitated and looked for more symptoms. “A fever?”

Again, anger sprang up in his features. “Don’t you dare accuse me of being sick.”

She held up her hands defensively, her mind on the gun that was always with her. “Sudden anger is a symptom,” she continued. “You never get angry. Lain, you never snap at me like you did this morning.” The waver in her voice was real and she felt the fear surge up her spine, making her skin tingle and mouth feel dry. “Lain, I’m just being cautious.”

He was still angry. His muscles bulged from beneath his shirt and his knuckles turned white again, which only made his veins look darker. Because of this she took another approach. “If you’re sure you’re not sick, let me clean this up. Go get stitches. Go get checked at the clinic.” After taking only a few steps, fear washed over her brothers face and he stepped back.

“Wait.” His eyes showed deep thought. “No, I got this.”

That’s all she needed to hear. “Meet me at Ted’s in an hour,” she instructed.

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.” Her mind was racing and she was ready to take action. That’s what she knew how to do. “I’ll be there. We’ll figure this out.” With a checklist flashing through her mind, she turned to head downstairs and grab necessary supplies. Before she could get too far, her brother spoke up again, this time with fear in his voice.

“This isn’t something we can run from Angie.” There was so much they didn’t know. So much that could go wrong. So much that could change. “If this is what you think it is, we can’t escape it.”

With a deep breath, she rolled her shoulders and heard some cracks which temporarily relieved the built-up stress. “I don’t run. I fight.” She glanced back at her brother who had grown up too fast. They all had. “We’ll get through this. Trust me.”