State of Chaos

“I have no idea.”

“Engage,” Chris says. “Now.”

Our team opens fire. I relax into position and set my sights on the scene below. Omega troopers stumble out of their vehicles. Most of them are slow and disoriented, making them easy targets to take down. Rapid gunfire rips through the trees — both from us and from below. Alexander and his team have opened fire, too. Omega troopers are dropping left and right, smoke is spilling into the night sky. Screaming and yelling echoes off the otherwise silent foothills. Omega doesn’t even have time to return fire. We’re cutting them down too fast. And in the middle of all of this insanity, I’m firing as fast as I can, dropping an empty magazine onto the ground, inserting another one into my gun.

I’m a real Amazon warrior princess these days. Whoopee.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for the bloodshed to cease — but it seems like hours. My ears are ringing from the gunfire and I’m choking on diesel fumes and smoke.

“Should we go down there?” I ask.

“Let Alexander check it out first,” Chris answers.

We stay in position as Alexander brings his team to the so-called “kill zone.” They check the dead and attend to the wounded. He gives us the all-clear signal and we slip out of our hiding places and make our way down the side of the hill, walking onto the road, keeping our formation, constantly sca

“Okay, just like you practiced,” Chris tells me.

I nod, kneeling at the feet of a dead Omega trooper. I have to make a monumental effort not to gag as I touch his lifeless fingers. They’re still warm, reminding me that just a second ago, this guy’s heart was beating.

Stop, I warn myself. Just do your job.

I take his weapons — guns, ammunition, and knives. The works. Next I strip off his jacket and boots, including the helmet on his head. I also commandeer his socks, because mine are full of holes.

“Pants too,” Chris says. “You’ll need them, believe me.”

Awkward. I shouldn’t have to be yanking the pants off dead people, but I guess that’s one of the less glamorous aspects of guerilla war fighting. When I’m done, I’ve got the full uniform of an Omega soldier in my arms, along with all of his gear. Sophia hands me an empty backpack and I stuff all the items inside — everything except the rifle. I sling that across my back and toss the backpack to one of the men.

We move fast, collecting everything in record time. When we’re done, I have to fight the urge to take a can of spray paint and etch some kind of epic slogan over the vehicles. “You’re thinking of graffiti right now,” Sophia remarks.

“You know me too well.”

She shrugs.

Chris gives the signal and we clear out of the area, retreating back into the hills. Our trucks are only parked about a mile from here. Alexander has some of his men take the Omega trucks that are still ru

Max takes his team down the road and checks the explosives he set up. He comes back to us. “Somebody messed with my detonations,” he growls. “They were armed and set.”

“Nobody knows how to do that,” Alexander replies.

“Somebody obviously does.”

We cast anxious glances at each other. Is there a traitor in our midst? Or was there simply a technical glitch with Max’s explosives? At any rate, Alexander has turned out to be the hero of the day.

“You improvised,” Chris states, looking at him. “Nice work.”

Alexander shrugs, gruffly moving aside.

“So you set off those explosions, then?” I ask.

Alexander nods.

“Never hurts to be prepared.”

Huh. Chris was right. Alexander is a good soldier.

Weird, but good.

Two of the Omega trucks are still drivable, but the rest of us will have to go on foot to the rally point. Alexander’s team takes the trucks, and we’re left behind to experience all the joys of a hike in the foothills.

“Let’s cut cross country through the mountain pass,” Max says. “It’ll be faster.”

Chris nods. We follow the curve of the highway and hike uphill onto a dirt road, passing a couple of impressive rock formations. An iron fence has been smashed open and twisted. We jump over it and continue through the road, the bushes and trees looking eerie against the dark, cloudy sky.

“I hope you know where you’re going,” Sophia tells Max.

“Of course I do.” He points. “This is easier than climbing over the big hill. This just cuts right through it to the other side.”

“Right, right.”

As we wind our way deeper into the side of the hill, I notice little buildings.

“What’s all this?” I wonder.

“I don’t know,” Chris replies. “Keep your eyes open.”

We keep to our patrol formations, just like we practiced. Chris sends a scout to check out the area ahead, while Sophia and I bring up the rear of the group. We’re always watching. Always listening. Always alert.

If there’s one thing that’s just as dangerous as Omega, it’s nomads and vandals. They hide out in abandoned compounds or houses, living off the leftover food of the previous occupants. Based on my previous experience with desperate people wandering around the state, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s better to avoid them if you can.

The buildings are spaced far apart in some places, and in other areas they’re close together. Chain link fences are nestled into the side of the hills. Trails weave between those fences. Trees and bushes are growing around the perimeter, and there are thick cables surrounding each chain link fence. They look like barriers.

“This is creepy,” Sophia says under her breath.

I have to agree.

“Let’s check it out,” somebody suggests.

“No. We need to get out of the area. Omega will be sending in backup to look for that missing convoy,” Chris replies.

“Hey, look!” I spot a small, brown wooden directory on the edge of the road. I head towards it, flipping out my commandeered Omega flashlight. I flick it on.

Beneath is a map of the entire compound; tiger cages, leopard cages, even a lion enclosure. Sophia is staring at it with wide eyes. “You don’t think any of those things are still here, do you?” she asks.

Chris raises an eyebrow.

“If they got out of their cages, it’s possible,” he answers. “Otherwise they’re probably dead if this place was evacuated after the EMP.”

I turn off the flashlight, my heart racing in my chest.

All I need is to come face to face with a starving panther to make this night even more exciting. I mean, come on. Chris takes my hand, sensing my unease, and we walk together away from the directory board.

“Maybe we should go around after all,” Max says. “Just in case.”

“What? Afraid of the little kitty cats?” Chris quips.

“Little?” I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Tell that to the cat that uses your neck as a chew toy.”

He gives me a look. Chris tugs on my arm, his signal for me to keep my mouth shut, and keeps walking. I zip my lips and keep a tight grip on my rifle. Personally, I’d rather be holding Chris’s hand right now, but I’m a soldier these days…and how would that look? By the time we reach the other side of the mountain, I’m afraid to take a deep breath because of the noise it will make. Then again, if we are being hunted by a wild cat, there’s not a lot I can do about it. I’m dead.

“That was mildly terrifying,” I comment.

“Not too bad, actually,” Chris grins. “I’d say me and a big cat are evenly matched, wouldn’t you?”

“Egomaniac.”

We reach the trucks not too long afterwards. We throw our stuff into the back and drive into the night, retracing our path back to base. Everyone’s waiting for us when we return, including Derek’s team. He stayed behind to guard the camp and keep everybody in line while we were gone. With our militia getting bigger and bigger, more people have to be left behind to keep law and order around here.