True Heroes (99 page)

              “Seizure in her room, then a heart attack in the back of an ambulance, and they’re completely different. It’s strange.”

              “I bet.” She held up her hand, revealing an empty ring finger. “I left him right after leaving the school.”

              “That was a huge financial boost in the time of unemployment.”

              “Believe it or not, we took care of it to where I just took a year’s salary. No need for overkill.”

              “How did you go from philosophy to Vice-President?”

              “Why did it take you so long to notice?”

              He smiled. “Never been into current events, especially not politics.”

              She motioned for him to walk. With her arms crossed and her voice nostalgic, she began. “The career change wasn’t really where it began. You know all about when things switched direction for me, but from there to the tank, I began talking and seeing important people. Some of them listened, and eventually, one really, really listened and put me in front of a podium. Trevor met me when he was running for president, and I met with him at the right time.” She looked over to Caleb. “Tell me what happened to you.”

              Caleb smiled and observed the path at their feet. “You make it sound as though something awful happened.”

              “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

              “You’re Vice-President, which means you have nothing better to do than listen to gossip and intercepted transmissions.” He looked at her through several curls on his forehead. “What have you heard?”

              She laughed with a weak cackle. “They set the entire folder in my lap a few hours ago, but I didn’t get past the name. I wanted to hear it from you.”

              He slid his hands inside his jean pockets and continued to study the path. “There’s not a lot to tell. Things happened between then and now, people were hurt and helped, time has disappeared and recycled. People would surely think there was more to the story, but it’s the same as all other stories: someone was born, someone lived, someone died. Maybe the only difference between it all is the fact that there was a moment in life where something perfect happened, and has yet to cease being that.”

              Marion had a smile on her face when he looked up again, but was shaking her head. “You’re downplaying. Even you know what you’ve done before now, and what you’re going to do now. Caleb, nobody has done anything like this.”

              “Heh, yeah, true. Nobody has.”

              “Howard told me about the war. How it really ended.” She laughed with more strength than before. “It really made sense, made a lot of things make sense.”

              “How so?”

              She stopped and turned to him as he slouched. “You always did have a power over people, and you gave it up completely. Who does that?”

              “Nobody,” he said with a sly smile. “You look like there’s still something you want to get off your chest.”

              “Where do I even start with that topic,” she said with an equating smile and stare. “We could talk forever about the logistics of this clearly new philosophy, or the fact that you look poised to make this country war-free for the first time in this century, or even that your subliminal message that’s seeping through everything you’ve done for the past year and a half is really starting to change people’s minds. Any way to boil that down into one question, smart guy?”

              “You did get to skim the file after all.”

              “The back few pages yeah. Did I miss anything?”

              “That one big question.”

              “That’s why I’m asking you about it.”

              “There is a big, over-arching question, and there is even a simple answer for it. If you take away the rational world, the answers to every question become so crystal clear. You can’t ask why, or who, or what, or when, or even how; the remaining option is encrypted. On the largest scales of operation, people are pulled, rationally, to everybody, or somebody, but the constant, transcendental option is to live for nobody, which is the same as saying ‘To live is to live, and nothing else will be given without what is alive to give, including death.’ The only true question that will ever reveal the unfiltered truth is ‘Is life giving?’”

              “Caleb.” He looked at her squarely, feeling his heart pick certain beats to pound louder within his chest. “Is life giving?”

              “Constantly a chance for something amazing and lasting to happen.”

              Marion nodded past his shoulder, causing Caleb to look back at Major Howard who wasn’t smiling. “We’re going to get the planning out of the way. We’ll have him right back to you, Madam Vice-President.”

              Caleb smiled at Marion before fully turning and walking through the pulled back flap. Laid across the table were old outlines obviously penciled a long time ago, and surrounding the desk were just a few soldiers, the President, and the Major. Caleb walked up to the edge of the desk and began scanning while listening. “We’re keeping the plan basic and brief: our guys will be split into five groups. Ten will sneak to the gate here, thirty from west and east, then ten at each of these back corners.”

              “No, Captain, you’re not in this to win it,” Stanley spoke up from a dark corner. He approached the desk beside Caleb and the Major. “If you create strong points all over, then Caleb might as well tunnel inside.”

              “He’s right, Captain. You were told to develop a supplementary plan to allow Mr. Whitmor easier access to the gate.”

              “I didn’t think you were serious Major, my mistake.” The man continued to grumble as he looked at Caleb. “Any input?”

              He leaned down and traced along the wall with his finger. “You pick a wall and throw everyone at it, metaphorically. They focus on you, leave some weak spot, and we’re accomplished.”

              “Brilliant, mastermind, except you’d never get by more than ten of their guns.”

              “I’ve seen him catch twenty bullets then wrap the guns around the shooter’s heads. He’ll be fine, and it’s simple. Just what we need. I take it you’ll want to go in ASAP?”

              “Tomorrow morning will be good. Leave at sunrise and catch a break maybe.”

              “Any questions gentlemen?”

              The Captain looked ready to protest before making eye contact with Caleb, and then subsided from whatever opinion he had on his tongue.

              Caleb bowed out of the tent. “You continue to wow people, don’t you?”

              He turned to his teacher. “That hasn’t changed.”

---

              ‘They’re walking over to sit down. They are old friends they probably have a lot to talk about, but still, so do we. Wait…he talked about a teacher. It is her. That’s the freaking one that tried to seduce him. Hey, don’t be jealous. Don’t even start. There’s nothing—she touched his hand. Is she seriously trying to make me mad? Caleb—what would he say if I walked over right now? He’d be a little upset, but would tell me to trust him. That’s the whole problem, though. Can I trust him?’

---

              “I’m going to have to read your file to get any deeper than the skin on you aren’t I?”

              He smiled and leaned forward on the hard bench beneath him. Her hand appeared on his shoulder as soon as he sat. “It’s not important.”

              “That’s a yes, jeez.” She smiled and took her hand away. “Glad to see you still kept in shape though. Not many do after high school.”

              “You haven’t changed too much.” He looked up at her shocked, yellow, haunting eyes. “You have changed your career, and maybe your outlook on life, but not the part that matters most. Some have. No games this time, sorry.”

              He stood up and walked over to Alice’s side, hefting the huge carton of water bottles onto his back so that she could walk and pass them out effortlessly.

---

              ‘Now he thinks I need his help? Maybe I can’t trust him….’

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              Alice walked out of the medical tent and stopped just beyond the threshold. ‘Where’d everyone go? Did the military guys round them up? Wait, what’s that smell? Food, but where?’ She walked around to the far side of the tent. ‘They set up tables, that’s nice. Where’s…at the one surrounded by guards never mind.’ She walked between the tables and standing guards until she reached Caleb’s back. ‘He moved over for me. Plate already set up with a napkin over it. He remembered me….’

              With a wretch at the bottom of her heart, she sat down next to Caleb and quickly passed her eyes across everyone, stopping momentarily to nod at Stanley across from her. ‘All my favorite things. Damn it Caleb.’ She picked up the small package of yogurt next to her fork. ‘He scratched off everything but the faces. He’s looking at my hand, trying to sneak a peek at my eyes.’ Her head turned sideways, to which his head reflected. ‘Why can’t I just say it? Why won’t you let me?’

              She dropped the package and slowly scooped up her fork. ‘His eyes are still this way. No, don’t give in. Just eat.’

              “Are you Caleb?”

              Every face looked up and across the table at the short man standing between two guards. He walked up quickly with his hand extended from a rag that used to be a shirt sleeve. “Who are you?”

              “Oh, I’m one of the people you picked up back at the town. I just never really got a chance to say hello yet.”

              ‘Lying. Caleb, he’s lying.’ Caleb set down his fork while the few guards circled around the President two seats away. “No you weren’t. You’re in your mid-thirties and jumpy, and way too eager to meet someone you shouldn’t know.”

              The man pulled back his hand and smiled for a moment before quickly reaching into his pants and pulling a revolver to Caleb’s head. Every gun in the camp quickly converged as he shouted his threats of pulling the trigger in reaction to quarrelsome movement. “Are you Caleb?”

              ‘No, say no, please Caleb say no. We’ll all back you up and say he left already.’

              She felt his leg start to lightly kick under the table. “You know the answer to that.” The hammer clicked back on the gun; echoes were heard around the table. “You don’t know why you’re here though.”

              “I’m the assassin. I make sure you don’t make it to the sergeant.”

              “No, you’re not.”

              “You don’t know me.”

              “What you are is the subtext of who you are. You are a man; there is conflict in your eyes that comes from inside of you, not from Stephen.”

              “That doesn’t mean I won’t kill you.”

              Caleb’s hands were folded and his back was straight. ‘His leg is still kicking.’ She placed her hand on it, instantly tranquilizing the rapid movement. “That’s true, but you always have a choice.”

              “Don’t spoon feed me!”

              “You could kill me, be welcomed back by Stephen and live, or you could not kill me, return and die. There’s another option.”

              “There’s nothing else I can do.”

              “The world is a very forgiving place. Your gun could be placed on the table, then you could turn and walk away and find a new life. Probably a terrifying concept, but your perfect option.”

              “I’m not walking away from this no matter the option.”

              “These guys won’t do a thing, will they Mr. President?”

              Both gunman and victim kept their eyes locked as a stable voice said, “Not a thing.”

              “There are a lot of factors you haven’t weighed here. Like the reward of killing you, the personal satisfaction of ending this bullshit once and for all. To show everyone that I was right to do what I did.”

              “What did you do?”

              “Doesn’t matter.”

              “If it was right, then it matters.”

              “You’re not going to get into my head.”

              “You’ve already decided what you’re going to do. At this point, you’re just sharing what you’ve done with an interested observer.”

              “I left the army.”

              “Why?”

              “Because they treated me like a dog. Like their little whipping boy. You think walking away will fix that?”

              “The past doesn’t need fixing. Your past has led you here, and what’s wrong with that? Nothing. Did you leave the army because someone else did it?”

              “No.”

              “Because it didn’t feel right?”

              “Not really.”