Toy Soldiers - 2. Chapter 2

He was referring to the silent communication we'd developed. We were frequently challenged to operate in silence, but we were also forbidden to speak, frequently. We'd developed our own system of hand signals and, if he was telling the truth, it would serve to warn the squad that we were expendable.

“If you take a subtle look around you'll see many of my supplies are starting to run low. Some of my major equipment is unplugged, just waiting to be moved. They plan to move on you within a few days – you must act as soon as possible.”

I was used to following orders, but they never came from the docs. Not unless it was related to medication or 'holding still'. This reeked of trouble, of deception – but was it against us or The Corporation?

I sneezed for the benefit of the camera lenses that observed my every breath, and then left my hand in place as if I anticipated another. “Why?”

“I don't know. I can only guess that these experiments didn't achieve the desired goals and that they want to dispose of you – like failed prototypes.”

I sneezed again, holding the hand over my mouth long enough to ask, “Why are you telling me this?” Then I lowered my hand, rubbing the palm over my uniform pants.

“It's inhuman. I can't live with it anymore,” he whispered. This tone was different from his previous tone. This was filled with something I couldn't identify – a sadness, perhaps, like we felt when we lost someone. I felt I understood.

Thoughts of the Doc evaporated as I moved down the passageway. There would be two guards on patrol, each had a key to the small arms locker that had to be turned in concert with the other. A second click in my helmet told me my partner for this phase was in place. I clicked back, so they knew I was in position. On the count of five we rounded the opposite corners and had the guards between us.

They were only startled for a moment. Our movements were compact and precise and that alone warned them that we were not simply passing to another scheduled event. A low feint and a high strike dazed my opponent; I moved in and pressed the vulnerable carotid artery and he collapsed. I turned just as his partner fell. Double clicking our radios alerted the others to our success. We recovered the keys and opened the locker. Simultaneously half our squad flooded the area and an alarm sounded as the small arms locker was breached.

The weapons were distributed quickly and we moved towards the training floor. Even though we spent most of our time there and, in theory it should have been the most secure area to keep us, it was vulnerable. As we entered the room shots were fired at us and our squad took cover and returned fire. From the other end of the training area the second half of our team appeared with the heavier weapons and lay waste to the defenders on the observation level. Quickly we stacked on each other and breached the level. We had to race before a countermeasure was put in place, like doors that would halt our advance.

The doc had told me the danger would be through the ventilation system, some kind of inhalant. Some raced forward to ensure doors did not close while others used light rope to haul the last of our people over the edge. Steel doors began to close and we moved through them without incident. The lack in reaction time was due to the large level of surprise – we had never risen against them. Even when they had wronged us, for we knew their punishment was severe and permanent.

As we advanced past the medical wing, past the rooms where we'd been poked and injected, improved and upgraded, I reflected on how much this should have shocked the corporation – and how that surprise would be over soon. We had no gas masks, no filters to protect us if they enacted their plan to liquidate us. Now, speed was our only ally.

We encountered a knot of resistance and it began to feel as though we would breach the outer wall almost effortlessly; but the voice in the box gave us pause.

“Green Squad, return to your barracks immediately. Failure to comply will result in your liquidation. Drop your weapons and stand down.”

“Get down!” came the voice of Celadon through the radio. We all dropped immediately. I glanced around quickly and noted one of our squad rolling on their back and trying to reach the snaps for their helmet. So, the gas was already out and the voice in the box just delayed us – I dearly hoped the now dead squad mate wasn't Sage, even though I'd never see him again. On all fours we scuttled to the end of the hallway and breached the next room. A firefight ensued. The squad survivors routed the defenders and we broke through a barricade into a dusty, unused chamber. Glass was set into the tops of two doors, but beyond the glass wasn't another room. Only darkness.

In moments we were through and running across a defensive kill zone. No shots were fired and we didn't look back. We moved into the treeline and signaled, silently, that we would move through the night.

I trusted my squad mates but none so much as Brunswick and Harlequin. They were older boys who looked out for us younger guys and helped us to adapt to training. Mostly they protected us from our own mistakes and taught us how to avoid the harsher punishments of the Managers. Lima 1900 was a code phrase and a time reference for an operation we’d organized in secret over several months, it stood for Liberation, 7:00pm. I didn’t know why the code word had been spoken now but I knew I couldn’t ignore it and risk being left behind while my squad mates made their escape.

I returned to my pallet and grabbed my helmet and gloves. At 7:00pm that night I stood beside India Green and when we heard two clicks over the radio we rushed forward as the alarm sounded overhead announcing the breach of the small arms locker. Harlequin and Brunswick stood over the bodies of two guards; I grabbed my weapon, 311, and raced into the training room.

Shots were fired and I ducked behind cover. The rest of our squad arrived with heavier weapons and laid waste to the opposition. I stuck close to my squad mates knowing this would be the last time I’d ever see them. We ran to the end of the room and helped each other climb to the second level. We regrouped and breached the medical wing as I coughed behind my helmet and struggled for breath.

The alarms continued to ring but a metallic voice rose over the wail of the claxons, “Green Squad, return to your barracks immediately. Failure to comply will result in your liquidation. Drop your weapons and stand down.”

The announcement was followed by Celadon’s voice over the radio, “Get down!”

I dropped to my belly as a shrill cry came over the radio. I looked up and caught sight of one of my squad mates rolling around on his back, clutching at his helmet release. I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder and turned back to see Brunswick across from me, “Don’t look back, Sage. Get out of here!” I nodded my head, stunned and afraid.

I continued to lie on my belly as we made our way across the floor with serpentine movements. There was the sound of breaking glass and the next thing I knew I was on my feet staring out at pitch darkness. This is where we parted, once free of the facility we were all on our own as we ran for the safety of the woods.

I clambered over the chain link fence surrounding the facility and ran as though my life depended on it. I ran as hard and fast as I could despite my “common cold,” but only made it a couple of miles. Time was of the essence. We knew the corporation would be after us, that’s why we’d split up. It would be much harder for them to track us as individuals as opposed to a group.

I staggered forward coughing and struggling to catch my breath. Each cough sent chills down my spine; they were like screams in the night shouting out to The Corporation, “HERE I AM, COME AND GET ME.” Just when I thought I couldn’t manage another step I came into a clearing. I quickly scanned the area and realized I was at an industrial facility of some kind. I made my way cautiously around the chain link fence and found a loading bay where several trucks were loaded down with massive concrete tubes. In the distance I heard the distinct barking of dogs and knew the officers of The Corporation were on my trail.

I had to act fast and quickly began to shed my uniform. Everything I wore was a red flag. If someone spotted me in my uniform they would inform the authorities because teenaged boys don’t wander the quiet countryside in full combat gear. Law enforcement would try to identify me and it would only be a matter of time until The Corporation found me. There was also the added problem of my scent. The dogs were already on to me and the longer I wore my uniform the longer the trail became for them to follow.

My skin broke out in goose pimples the moment I was naked but I didn’t have time to worry about being cold. I hopped the fence and raced for the loading bay, careful to stick to the shadows. I heard the dogs getting ever closer when I spotted my salvation. The tail lights of one of the trucks glowed red and the rumble of its engine quickly drowned out the barking of the dogs. I ran for the truck and clambered onto the trailer where I secreted myself in one of the concrete tubes.

I curled up in the fetal position and wrapped my arms around my legs. I coughed and shivered in the darkness but for the moment I felt safe as the truck hit the open road. I was exhausted. The excitement and terror of the escape caused my system to flood with adrenaline. Now that the immediate danger had passed my energy passed with it and the gentle rocking of the truck lulled me to sleep.

I don’t know how long I slept but the sun was up when I woke. The truck was stopped and as my eyes fluttered and I came to full consciousness I began to shiver. I looked at my normally pale skin to discover I’d acquired a disturbingly blue tint. To make matters worse my “common cold,” had dug in overnight and I felt weaker then I could ever remember feeling. Weakness meant danger, if I encountered officers of The Corporation in this condition, naked and sick, I’d be forced to surrender. Anything else would be suicide.

I thought back on my training and quickly assessed my situation. I was naked and sick in unknown territory which gave me simple objectives. One, ascertain my location. Two, acquire suitable clothing. Three, secure food and medicine. Four, keep moving. To that end I stuck my head out of the concrete tube and found the truck parked at a construction site. The area around the site appeared to be abandoned, there were no people in sight.

I hopped off the truck and ran to the nearest building, my breath rattling in my chest like a broken pop top in an empty cola can. The doors were locked so I stuck close to the wall to shield myself from the wind as I made my way around the building. I missed the comfortable and well broken combat boots I was accustomed to as my feet endured the perils of walking barefoot in an industrial zone.

Fifteen minutes after I emerged from the concrete tube I’d reconnoitered my surroundings and found the area to be deserted. I began to walk down a long ally and as I neared the end I heard footsteps. I ducked behind a garbage can as three boys turned the corner. I judged them to be close to my age based on their size and the tone of their voices. They clearly weren’t with The Corporation or law enforcement so I decided to reveal myself in the hopes of meeting my second objective, acquiring clothes.

“What the fuck is this?” one of the boys exclaimed as I stepped out from behind the garbage can.

“I-I need clothes,” I muttered through my chattering teeth.

“No shit man, where’s your gear?” said the boy as his friends laughed.

“I-I don’t have any.”

“That’s gonna be a problem. See we don’t cotton to perverts wandering around our hood with their dicks hangin’ out, know what I’m sayin’?” said the boy, bringing his face uncomfortably close to mine.

I quickly realized I misjudged the threat presented by these boys as one of them took a position behind me. This was a tactical error on my part, one that would have resulted in correction were this a training exercise.

“I-I have no wish to harm you,” I shivered to the raucous laughter of my tormentors.

“You hear that fellas?” said the boy. “Naked boy here has no wish to harm us.”

“Kick his ass Mike,” said one of his cohorts.

“Yeah man, show this perv how we handle things,” said the boy behind me.

The boys continued to laugh while my combat instincts took over. When the boy known as Mike curled his fingers into a fist and swung at me I struck like a coiled viper. I grabbed his wrist with my left hand and came down on his forearm with my right elbow shattering his radius with a sickening crunch. Simultaneously I kicked back with my left foot and found the testicles of the boy behind me rendering him combat ineffective. I rounded on the remaining boy as he drew a switchblade knife. As he lunged I caught his wrist and turned my body into him. I flipped him over my shoulder and continued to hold his wrist thus dislocating his shoulder.

I turned my attention to the boy I’d kicked. He was still rolling around in pain but threw his arms up in surrender when I pressed him into the ground with my foot.

“Don’t hurt me man. I wasn’t gonna do nothin’ I swear,” he sniveled.

I judged him to be about my height and weight. He wore jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and a warm coat.

“I-I need your clothes.”

Two minutes later I was zipping the coat as I emerged from the alley. Objective number two was achieved, the remainder turned out to be more difficult. There was no time to establish my location or acquire additional gear. I had to egress at once. The damage I’d inflicted on my would-be tormentors would require medical care and likely draw the attention of law enforcement. I moved swiftly but I didn’t run as that would also attract negative attention. I walked until I encountered a main road, a highway.

It was dangerous to approach. I didn’t know how far I was from Lion Mountain but there were lots of vehicles present and I put my hope into the thought I might blend in. Worst case I figured the abundance of civilian witnesses would prevent The Corporation from taking me by force. I might be able to outrun them. It was a gamble but I took it and began to walk along the highway.

I walked for hours, grateful for the coat I’d taken to shield me from the cold. My illness made me slow but I knew I had to keep moving. As the sun began to set, a vehicle pulled to the side of the road behind me. I froze in place as the headlights silhouetted me against the ground. I waited for an order to stop, or to put my hands in the air, but one never came. Instead, the truck pulled up beside me and the passenger door flew open. I looked up into the cab as the trucker leaned over the passenger seat.

She was the largest woman I’d ever seen. Her blond hair was tied back and she grinned down at me over heaving breasts that threatened to break free of their underwire prison.

“You need a ride honey?” she shouted down to me.

I weighed her offer carefully. She could have been an officer of The Corporation offering assistance in order to take me without drawing attention to herself but I quickly ruled that out. The odds of them using a disguise like this on the off chance they would spot one of us was something of a stretch.

“Yes please,” I nodded.

“Come on up sweetie pie,” she smiled.

I quickly climbed aboard the truck instantly grateful for the warmth coming from the vents. I collapsed into the passenger seat and she pulled back onto the highway.

“Names Marge Granger,” said the trucker. “How bout you?”

“My name is Sage Green,” I replied with a cough.

“Sage huh? That’s a pretty name. Where you from honey?”

Lion Mountain, Green Barracks, Pallet 16. “I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t know where you’re from?” she eyeballed me suspiciously.

“I…no ma’am.”

“Where did you get that shiner?”

“Shiner?”

“Who gave you that black eye?”

Black eye? I’d almost forgotten the punch to the face I’d taken from India Green while sparring the day before the escape.

“My brother,” I lied.

“Yeah? Where might he be?”

With any luck somewhere safe. “I don’t know ma’am.”

“You don’t know where you’re from and you’ve got a brother somewhere who punched you in the eye but you don’t know where he is?” Marge quirked an eyebrow but kept her attention on the road.

I pretended it was a rhetorical question and didn’t answer.

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Sage?”

“I…I’m very tired.”

“Yeah you look it,” said Marge and in that moment I think she decided to take pity on me. “There’s a warm bed in the sleeper,” she gestured over her shoulder. “Why don’t you climb back there and get some rest? We can talk later.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you ma’am,” I sighed in relief and began to climb back.

I was just over the trucks center console when a massive German Shepherd poked his head out and startled me. I flew backwards and landed back in my seat with a thud.

“Sorry bout that, I shoulda’ warned you,” said Marge. “This here’s Ricky but don’t worry about him, he’s a big ole baby.”

I tensed as Ricky put his nose in my face but he didn’t growl or bite, he sniffed me then licked my cheek. I couldn’t help giggling as his rough tongue tickled my skin. Where I came from dogs like Ricky were to be feared, I’d never encountered one so gentle.

“Go ahead and get some sleep, Ricky’ll keep you company,” said Marge.

I climbed into the sleeper and sure enough the big dog followed. I climbed under the covers and Ricky snuggled close as once again the gentle rocking of a big rig lulled me to sleep.

As I slept a familiar dream came to me. I found myself walking through a cozy home. The scene outside the window was that of a small New England town in the fall. The street was awash in a sea of red, gold and orange leaves as a light wind blew them in swirls. There was a warm fire on the hearth and as I took in my surroundings my ears perked up as a gentle melody filled the air. The tune was haunting and I followed it down the hall to find a woman seated in a rocking chair, a small boy in her arms.

The woman was beautiful with her blond hair, green eyes and wholesome face. The boy was clearly her son as evidenced not just by the tender embrace but also his matching hair and eye color. Instinctively I reached up and ran my fingers through my short hair. It was the same straw color as the pair before me. The eyes were the same shade of green I saw when I looked in a mirror. I leaned against the door-frame and as I studied the mother and child a familiar warmth began to fill my chest.

I could see her lips moving, could hear the melody of her song but I had to strain to make out the words.

“Sleep my baby, rest my loved one, softly slumber now with me. Clasped in mothers, arms so tender, warm in mother’s love for thee. Naught shall ever come to harm thee, while my loving watch I keep…” she sang.

A single tear fell from my eye and cascaded down my cheek as I listened to her sing. The image before me began to fade. I knew I was waking and struggled to hold onto the mother and child as long as I could. Wakefulness took me and as I reached up to brush the tear from my cheek Ricky beat me to it. The big dog licked me with his scratchy tongue and I couldn’t help but giggle. Marge must have heard me because she called out, “Mornin sunshine!”

“Good morning ma’am,” I replied as I climbed back into the cab and took the passenger seat.

“Sleep good?”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied. I looked out the window and was again greeted by the morning sun. Marge had driven all night and a sense of calm washed over me as I realized we must be hundreds of miles from Lion Mountain by now.

“What are you grinning about,” asked Marge, the hint of a smile on her face.

“Just thinking ma’am. Where are we?”

“Just passed through Harrisburg. Central Pennsylvania,” she replied and I smiled again.

“Ready to tell me where you’re from?”

“I don’t know ma’am,” I sniffled.

“You know that sounds a little strange, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” I agreed.

“Listen Sage if you’re in some kind of trouble I’m willing to help you. As it is I’m guilty of transporting a minor across state lines…”

“Why are you helping me?” I asked. I’d never experienced kindness from an adult outside of my dreams.

Marge pulled down her sun visor, extracted a photograph and handed it to me. It was a picture of a bright smiling blond boy about my age.

“That’s my son, Cody,” said Marge. “I saw you walking along that highway and I thought of him. There’s a lot of sickos out there, I hope if he was ever in trouble there’d be a kindly trucker woman to help him too.”

“Thank you ma’am,” I nodded. “I really don’t know where I’m from or how I got here.”

“I understand if it’s tough for you to talk about so I’ll give you some time but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on,” said Marge.

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am,” I nodded and stared out the window. Ricky lay across the trucks console and I stroked him absentmindedly as Marge talked in excess.

The life of a trucker must be a solitary one and as the miles built up I learned she was from Denver, her son Cody was quite the athlete, her ex-husband was an alcoholic who made the mistake of hitting her one night only to learn as she put it, “I ain’t a woman you wanna fuck with.” I enjoyed her company. She was cheerful and upbeat, so different from the dour doctors and managers of The Corporation I was accustomed to.

As night fell we stopped on the Pennsylvania/Ohio border to eat dinner at a truck stop. Once we were led to a table Marge excused herself and headed for the restroom. When she took her seat she handed me a small bottle of red liquid.

“What’s this ma’am?” I eyed the concoction suspiciously.

“Couldn’t help but notice your cold. That’s cough medicine. Take a swig, you’ll feel better.”

I downed a mouthful of the liquid and almost retched.

“Oh that’s disgusting,” I coughed.

“Tell me about it,” Marge chuckled. “But it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yes ma’am,” I nodded.

“Take a look at the menu. A good hot meal will help too.”

Marge was amused by my wonderment at the menu. I’d never been presented with so many options before and couldn’t decide what to eat. Eventually the waitress got tired of waiting for me and Marge picked something on my behalf. Her selection of turkey and all the fixings was delightful.

“We’re about half an hour from the Ohio boarder,” said Marge as we finished our meal. “I’ve given you the day to think about your situation, I want to know what’s going on before we cross that boarder. Fair enough?”

“I…They’ll…You’ll be in danger,” I practically whispered.

“I told you sunshine, “I ain’t a woman you wanna fuck with,” she grinned. “That goes for drunk son-of-a-bitch ex-husbands and anyone who wants to hurt cute little blond fella’s.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her. She was so confident, so reassuring.

“Alright, but not here. I’ll tell you what I can once we’re back on the road.”

“Fair enough,” said Marge.

Marge got up to pay the bill and I went outside to untie Ricky. Marge had tied his leash to a poll outside the diner so the big dog could stretch his legs while we ate. As soon as he was loose Ricky jumped up and put his paws on my chest. The dog was heavy and I was standing precariously on the curb, I fell back on the grass and Ricky attacked me with kisses. I giggled and scratched his ears until Marge grabbed his leash and pulled him back.

We were making our way across the parking lot and towards the truck when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Something wasn’t right. My instincts were flashing me the danger signal but the cough medicine made me drowsy, dulled my reflexes. It happened so fast. Dark unmarked cars driven by faceless men in suits converged on the scene and surrounded us.

“Sage Green, halt and stay where you are. Raise your hands and step away from the woman,” a voice boomed over a loud speaker. My head swiveled around in search of the speaker as Marge put her arm around my shoulder and drew me close.

“Ma’am, you are in danger. Step away from the boy,” said the voice.

Marge refused to let me go. She held me tighter and then I heard it, the high pitched whistle of a silenced rifle. Marge’s arm went slack; her body twisted and fell away from me, a smoking crater in the center of her forehead.

“NO!” I shouted but my voice faded as I felt a prick in my neck. The last sound I heard before collapsing into strong arms was the high pitched squeal of a dog as its neck was broken.