Days Since...: Thomas: Day 758

Chapter Seven

“The name’s Blaine,” the interrogator said, his hand stretched out across the table. Thomas broke his attention from the book he started earlier that morning and extended his own hand to greet the man. “I don’t believe we’ve officially met.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Thomas gave an insincere smile, not trusting this… Blaine, completely. This man that would surely be analyzing every word that Thomas gave to him. A man that would be unable to help himself. It was his job, who he was now, nobody was much more than their duties within the Second Alliance. Thomas knew that a man in his position never exclusively worked their magic on adversaries—they assessed everyone, especially potential candidates in the Soldier Program.

Thomas noticed Blaine seemed intent on speaking at length. “I’m just trying to get my mind right before we head into their camp.” He tried returning to his book.

“I’m not trying to be rude here, but”—Blaine placed his fingertips on the table, propping his hand up like a tent—“we are going to talk.” He tapped his fingers a few times against the wooden top, insisting Thomas rejoin the conversation.

“That’s fine.” Thomas folded the cover, making the block of pages whole again. “I thought you were here to talk to prisoners.”

Blaine nodded. “Oh, I will, but I don’t go into these delicate proceedings blindly.” He pulled the seat opposite Thomas from the table and sat. He cracked his knuckles individually from pinky to thumb then removed a notepad and pen from his shirt pocket. He placed them very precisely on the table, setting the pad to his right, parallel to the table with the pen sitting along a line that ran horizontal across the cover.

“And the lady?” Thomas asked.

“I already spoke briefly with the woman. She gave a great bit of information that I feel you’ll find of use.” He tapped the notepad, which caused the pen to move slightly from its calculated position. Quickly, he fixed it. “It’s fairly obvious what her circumstances are. Speaking with her wasn’t the problem, it was getting her to calm down. But what I wish to focus on now is gathering the facts before I go at the kid.” Blaine eyed Thomas, expecting a response from him, but Thomas hadn’t heard a question. “And… that’s where I require your assistance.”

“I see.” Thomas slid the book to the side, straightened himself in the chair then placed his palms flat against the table. “What would you like to know?” He smiled.

Blaine cupped his hands and squeezed them together as he looked down into his lap. Thomas could see an unpleasant smile take shape—clearly displeased with this sarcastic response. But once Blaine took his eyes from his lap and faced Thomas again, his smile had changed to something more agreeable. “This isn’t a formal discussion.” He tried to soften the mood by waving his hand as if he were swatting a pesky fly from the air. “Seriously, relax. I feel you’ve misinterpreted my intentions.”

“I’m here to assist you with whatever you need,” Thomas jested as he folded his hands on the table and leaned forward a bit. “Whatever it is you need to ask me.”

A lump cleared Blaine’s throat, and he picked at one corner of his mouth with his thumb. He blinked hard then pressed his balled fists together in what had to be one last attempt to get every pop out of his knuckles that he could. “Why is it you’re here?”

“You know why—”

“You said,” Blaine interrupted him, but managed to remain cordial,” that you would answer my questions, correct? Keep in mind that any lies you offer, if proven, could disqualify you from the Soldier Program.”

Joseph… Thomas started to bounce his knee underneath the table, but restrained it by driving his heel into the floor. “Yeah.” Be careful. Play nice. Thomas wetted his lips and started, “The group that came before us missed the Butcher. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Good. And how long have you been with the Second Alliance?”

“I’m not sure the exact date, but definitely over a year.”

The questions continued as he sat there—basic questions used to gauge his response—to set the bar for truthfulness. There wasn’t much thought required for each inquiry the interrogator posed. Thomas couldn’t help his mind from wandering as the answers slid easily from his memory.

Thomas wasn’t ignorant to what Blaine worked to establish. What he had trouble understanding was how this man with rounded spectacles held such a position within the Second Alliance. This thin, uninspiring man appeared so out of place next to his Soldier escorts—out of place in general. A man, by Thomas’s estimation, that should not have survived the end of the world. But despite this opinion, the man was clearly important to someone based on the amount of firepower he required and perhaps that was how he had survived.

“How did you come upon the young man you took into custody?”

“Camping here in the library last night when James woke me up. He told me he heard glass break and saw a light move across the bookcases.” Thomas pointed toward the lantern in an effort to validate his explanation.

“Okay.”

“The kid started pulling books from the shelf and just dropped them on the floor. Didn’t seem concerned at all. It was like he had been here before.”

“And?” Blaine seemed bored with the specific details, although it was clear he listened to them intently.

“At the time, we weren’t exactly sure what we had, but figured it would be best to make a move rather than wait and see.” I have to own this. Thomas cleared his throat. “It was me that made the decision to go and take control of the situation.”

“Control, huh?” Blaine pointed over his shoulder. “And what happened to the window there? The kid doesn’t appear to be cut.”

“Well…” Thomas calculated his response as quickly as he could. “I overestimated our advantage and missed what he had done with the lantern.” Nervously, he massaged his palm with the thumb of his opposite hand. “The kid almost got the best of us, but I manage— we took care of the situation.”

“You know that I’ll be speaking with the prisoner once I’m finished here, correct?”

Thomas paused. Through the lenses of Blaine’s glasses he saw an unimpressed gaze, but upon their surface, Thomas could see himself in the reflection—his own face showed worry. Blaine had caught the deceit in Thomas’s answer.

“These questions are simply for fact gathering.” Blaine expelled his breath. “This is nothing more than that. Do not turn this into something larger than what’s transpiring here.”

“I understand.” You’ve done nothing wrong to act this way. Yes, it’s embarrassing, but shit, man… Get it together before he really thinks you’re trying to hide something. Thomas diverted his attention from Blaine to the office. “It…” he tried to explain, but the laughter from inside the office was distracting—James with the others, currently the center of attention, chatting and laughing boisterously with the Soldier reinforcements from the Capital. A half circle wrapped around him while he acted out what appeared to be some sort of fight scene. No telling if it was a recent run-in or something from his past.

“It wasn’t what we were expecting.” Thomas said, finally able to gather his thoughts. “When we realized that he wasn’t there—that it was just the light—we retreated to the office. The kid threw a chair through it and came after us. The fight didn’t last long—”

“I would hope not,” Blaine retorted.

Thomas furrowed his brow, caught off guard by the remark. It was how he said it, as if to say “You’re a Second Alliance Guard. He’s a boy. It should never have been a fight.” He wasn’t completely wrong. But, for this man—this small and delicate person—to make a comment like that, to insult Thomas, when very clearly Blaine would’ve been completely overwhelmed and bested. Thomas and James had thwarted the attacker when the advantage he held was substantial. Blaine, on the hand, would be sprawled out across the floor on the other side of that broken window, his last breath taken several hours ago.

Despite Thomas showing disdain for Blaine’s comment, the interrogator continued unfazed, “Restrain yourself from sharing that you and James had issues with the kid. Lying is in poor taste, but being bested by a child is worse. Keep it close to the vest.” Blaine paused for a moment, finally realizing the death stare that Thomas had focused on him. “In addition to any interrogations required during this endeavor, I’ve also been instructed to mitigate any perceived weaknesses of yours—”

What the hell?

“—so, believe it or not, your well-being is part of my orders. Someone out there thinks very highly of you and has made it a point to ensure that this trial comes to a favorable conclusion. A conclusion that…” He looked to the ceiling while in thought. “Holds you in the most positive light.”

“And who’s that?” Thomas replied, doubting the notion.

“William Haverty. I’m sure you know him or at least of him. Currently, he’s been assigned to the transition of River’s Edge Academy. He speaks well of you for whatever reason,” Blaine said coldly with a hint of jealousy. “You’ll be presented with his terms should you not fail this trial.”

“I see.” No arguing with that.

“For now, I need you to focus on the trial and instill in James the importance of keeping with the narrative on what occurred…” Blaine ensured Thomas paid attention before continuing. “There was no struggle. You simply captured him.”

Thomas nodded. It wouldn’t be a problem. He knew James would more than likely do this on his own, his pride being a strong motivator, a close second to the promise of the analyst position. James would never admit that they had any trouble with the kid. Honestly, he could tell the truth and say he never struggled with the guy—that only Thomas’s life slipped toward death.

But if asked, James knew better than to try and play games. He wouldn’t have a choice otherwise, he too needed this promotion, and Thomas had the ultimate say in whether or not James would accompany him. A simple lie would be his stepping stone—a way to move from his unappreciated position and into one of increased responsibility and respect.

At this very moment, as James spoke with the others, he was probably telling the lie, affirming the struggle hadn’t occurred—that all was right with the world—that an intruder came and was taken—that Thomas and James, two invincible warriors, killed two crazed maniacs in the train yard—that the two of them were unstoppable, infallible, and nothing could stand in their way.

Thomas watched James, knowing of course that none of it was true. But, it didn’t matter as long as the lie was believable.

In his periphery, Thomas could see Blaine inching forward in his seat. He whispered, maybe out of habit or for effect as there was no one around, but his voice came out softly. “Do you trust him?”

“Completely,” Thomas lied, his eyes likely showing the truth. He could feel it swelling inside, bubbling toward the surface.

“And why’s that?” Blaine waited for an explanation as Thomas searched himself for an answer.

“He’s been doing a good job. We had our run in with the prisoner, and”—This is going to make us sound like idiots—“we were ambushed in the rail yard too. Ended up—”

“Again?” Blaine nearly choked on the word trying to get it out so swiftly.

“Sounds worse than it was. We’ve had our run-ins but we’ve always come out on top. We ended up killing a man and his wife.” He caught himself. “But they attacked us. Got the jump on James, but he reacted appropriately, and he made it out fine.” He glanced over through the window again—James still going at it, his lying seemed to come so easily to him. “It’s not going to be a problem.” Thomas faced Blaine once again. “He’ll be on board with whatever I tell him.”

“Just make certain of it,” Blaine ordered. “And the boy? Is there anything additional I should be made aware of?”

“There’s nothing more to say, neither of us talked to the guy. I watched him all night, and then James watched over him when I left for the meet up.”

Blaine nodded. “If that’s all…” He placed his notepad into his pocket, slid the chair from the table, and turned to leave, finishing his statement from over his shoulder. “…I guess I’ll get started. I’ll let you know if there’s anything relevant for you before you depart. Keep reading or whatever it is you wish.”

“But what about that girl?” The question stopped Blaine a few steps into his exit. “What information did she give you about the camp?”

“I wasn’t ready to delve into that.”

“I’d like to know now, so I can get a jump on my planning.”

“If you insist.” Visibly annoyed, he crept back into the chair. “Since we are changing gears, I feel it best I start it off with my own inquiry.” He attempted to crack his knuckles again in preparation for another round, but they were spent. “What do you know about her?”

“I don’t know anything about her. Just saw her running past me, but I didn’t see anyone chasing her. I figured somebody was by how she was moving, but I couldn’t tell.”

“What if it had been the Butcher’s men chasing her? Moving in to try and reclaim her?”

“The idea of it being a trap crossed my mind, but…” Do I tell him? Thomas worked his eyes through the room, yawned, obviously buying time, but at the moment he didn’t care. He couldn’t appear crazy or worse, weak. He very clearly saw a little girl, not a woman, not in the slightest. Then… it wasn’t her. Does that make me crazy? “When she passed me I thought I saw the scar.” The lie came out like expelled food that had held his breaths hostage. “She ran past so quick… I just didn’t get a good look, but figured if she was one of the Butcher’s women, I could get some good Intel.”

“You saw the scar?” The question soaked in skepticism. “Even though she ran past ‘so quick’ as you put it?”

“Yeah.” Thomas coughed. Is that a tell? A sweat began to build up in his hands—a nervousness inside him elevated his heart beat. “I’m pretty sure I saw it as she ran past. You know what I mean. It happened quickly, but I definitely saw it.”

Thomas couldn’t prevent himself from stumbling through his answers. But after a short while, Blaine revealed that they had eyes on Thomas the entire time. He already knew the lengths Thomas had gone through to find the woman. His tone was much more relaxed now, and Thomas welcomed it. He’s not trying to trap you.

Blaine continued speaking the details, pointing out a few concerns, but overall nothing to give any indication he didn’t believe Thomas’s account.

Thomas took a slow, deep breath, trying to settle the rise of his chest. Calm down! You’ve done well. This Soldier spot is yours. The nervousness subsided. “I had to take the chance. Like I said, I saw the scar and knew the Intel would be worth the shot.”

Just as Thomas had finished his statement, one of the Soldiers brought the woman from a backroom and into the office. The blood. He craned his neck to check on her.

The Soldier sat her down at one of the computer desks in the corner, and a medic began to look her over. He pitched some bandages that were striped red, cleaned the wounds, and began wrapping both her arms with fresh gauze. They allowed her to sip on some water and take a few bites of what had to have been the stalest crackers left in the world. “Did you guys hurt her?” Thomas’s eyes shot back to Blaine. “A blood trail led me to her.”

“You should know better than that.” Blaine hung his head with disappointment. “Why are you here?”

A pause. Thomas wasn’t budging—he wanted the answer to his question.

“Our purpose is to save them,” Blaine said. “You know damn well we’d never hurt her.”

Thomas considered it to be the truth, but something existed in the woman’s eyes that made Thomas second guess Blaine’s solemn words. Maybe it was the blood or the speed by which she moved. The hurried feet. All he ever saw were the bottoms of them as she ran with her flowing hair pulled back by the fear that propelled her. Surely, she ran from someone. At the moment, it appeared to be them. They were the only ones found to be chasing her. Had something gone awry?

“How did it happen?”

“We located her near a tree on campus. She was sobbing as she cut herself. We attempted to stop her, but she ran. She kept muttering to herself, but she may have been delusional. There’s no telling how long she’s been alone or whether she suffers from some sort of mental illness. She’s lucky we intervened as she might very well have succeeded in killing herself.”

“What did she say during the interview?”

“She spoke briefly of abandoning her sister,” Blaine replied. “I didn’t require her to elaborate. There wasn’t a need. She’s been through enough. It was important to let her know she has a way out. She provided adequate Intel, but wants our protection. Before we commit to finding her a job and a place within our world, we need to confirm that she truly wants a new life.”

“So what should I expect?”

Blaine took his notepad again and flipped through a few pages. “She said there are eleven women, a few kids, the Butcher, and about fifteen armed guards.”

That’s fewer than what originally thought.

“They’ve enlisted a few individuals we would consider civilians—a cook, a nurse-type, and a mechanic. The Butcher’s set up below the gazebo as initial reports indicated, and the sleeping tents radiate outward from there.” Blaine set the notepad in front of Thomas. “She drew a crude map of the area.” He traced the diagram with his finger as he spoke. “The tents where the women conduct their business are on the northwestern side of the gazebo. All of their valuables are stored within a U-haul parked near the playground south of the center. We’ve provided a map of the area. I’ll lay them out and ensure this information is available for the evening’s briefing.”

“Any details on weapons?”

“She lacked specifics but said there are ‘long ones’ and pistols. It sounds like most patrol with one of each.” Blaine withdrew the notepad from Thomas. “She stated the women have an agreement to surrender if attacked. The men expect them to fight alongside them, but they’ll refuse. You shouldn’t have to concern yourselves with them being a threat once the assault begins.”

“Any word on how the system works there? What do I need to say or do?”

Blaine peeled back another page of his notepad. “They’ll accept anything and everything. Mostly, they desire ammunition, guns, gasoline, water and food. She’s seen them take books and clothing but they don’t equate in value.”

“Books will have to do. We’re not going to arm them. We’re also not looking to engage with the women. We just need a way in.”

“Let me interview the kid, and I’ll attempt to speak with her again once she’s had time to rest.”

“I’ll be right here.”

Thomas looked on as Blaine entered the office and motioned for one of the Soldiers to escort the kid from the library to someplace more appropriate for a “conversation.” As Blaine led the other two from the office, Thomas decided to part the pages to his book once again. Shortly after, he found himself slipping toward sleep—the words fading in and out with each indentation that pushed the story forward.

His focus faded—the lack of sleep tightening its grip on his consciousness, pulling him closer toward rest. Thomas gave in. There was no use in denying the sleep any longer, not even the laughter from the office could keep him in this world.

“Dad… Dad… How you feeling today?”

“Hey, Tommy boy.”

“You feeling better?”

“Better… maybe… If I could just get a decent meal, I could get my strength back. The food here’s disgusting.”

“What do you expect?”

“For how much this is going to cost in medical bills? Something better than this slop.”

“Alright, Dad. I didn’t mean to get you all fired up. Did Mom come by today?”

“She left maybe an hour ago.”

“The doctors—did they tell you guys anything yet?”

“No. If they know anything, they aren’t sharing much. All they keep saying is that it’s some sort of flu. Doesn’t seem like they know what they’re doing—keep saying they’ve never seen it before—keep running tests on me. I feel like a damn lab rat in here. Look at how many tubes they have running into me.”

“Try and relax, Dad.”

“Yeah… Sorry. I feel like I’m going mad in here.”

“Let’s talk about something else then.”

“Okay… You still at school? How’s that going?”

“Good. Only another two years to go.”

“You know I’m proud of you.”

“Dad—“

“No, hear me out, Tommy. I know when you went to Syria I wasn’t that—I wasn’t that supportive. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want you to have to go and do that. I was hoping your mother and I would be able to figure something out for you.”

“I know. It’s fine.”

“If there could have been another way—“

“Dad. Stop. I’m fine.”

“I know you are.”

“Can we talk about something positive?”

“What about James? What’s he up to?”

“We don’t talk anymore… I thought I told you that.”

“Yeah, maybe you did. What about school? How’s that?”

“Dad…”

“What?”

“The kid’s name is David,” the interrogator said, his foot tapping against Thomas’s ankle.

Thomas jerked his leg in response, and his head shot off the table. “Huh?” He swallowed then smacked his lips in an attempt to freshen his mouth.

“The kid’s name is David,” Blaine repeated. “He seems highly intelligent, wild, but could prove effective with appropriate conditioning.” He took the book from in front of Thomas and casually flipped through the pages as he sat on the edge of the table. “You don’t strike me as a reader.”

“Yeah…” Thomas rubbed his eyes and straightened himself up in the chair. His hand slid across the stubble of a day-old beard. “Why’s that?”

“Something about you Soldier types. Maybe you’re the anomaly.” Blaine pitched the book back onto the table—the loud smack clearing the remaining fog from Thomas’s mind. “This kid… You said he attacked you? Correct?” He took the glasses from his face and wiped them with a handkerchief.

“Looks like he got at you too,” Thomas said smugly, noticing a gash on the side of Blaine’s nose and a mark on his cheek.

Almost immediately, Blaine shoved the glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. “I made the mistake of trying to make him more comfortable. He’s surprisingly agile.”

Thomas let a short burst of laughter slip.

“He thinks very highly of himself—”

So you two have something in common?

“—Reiterated the idea that he spared the two of you.”

Thomas smirked. Let us live, huh? “I’d think he’d have to be pretty cocky to come after me and James like that, but who knows? He wasn’t conscious too long after we met, so I didn’t get to ask him. He tell you that?”

“He mentioned there may have been a few holes in his memory.” Blaine smiled, nodding slightly at Thomas as he continued. “He spoke of many things—admitted to being here for the Butcher and coming to the library specifically for books to exchange. Spoke openly on it…” He paused. “Perhaps too graphic at some points.”

“What’s the plan with him?”

“I’m uncertain that we’ll be able to convince him of our work, but it would definitely be worth the attempt. The boy has a brightness to him…” Blaine rested his hands on the tabletop across from Thomas. “I’m not sure how to explain it. He has value to him, but it’s currently misplaced. He holds loyalty to some other faction, but won’t tell us where.”

“Did you torture him?” Thomas eyed Blaine’s injuries once more.

“I’m going to hold off on that. I don’t want to shut him down. If I can convince him cleanly to reconsider his allegiances, we will get the truth. Torture can be tricky as you know—sometimes you get the truth, sometimes it’s what they think you want to hear.”

“So what do we do with him?”

“Me and one of the Soldiers will continue to monitor them.”

“Him and the girl?”

“Yes. First, we need you to complete your scouting endeavor.” He motioned for Thomas to follow him as he stepped off toward the office. “When we confirm the information offered by the woman, we can consider that her first step toward assimilation. The kid…” Blaine slowed his steps as he worked through his thoughts. “We’ll initiate conditioning once we get him back. I hope he’ll break down, eventually. Most do, especially when they see how far along we are—when they see how much easier life can be.”

“Is that it then?” Thomas opened the door to the office for Blaine. “Just waiting on me and James?”

“It needs to be sooner than later. We’ll need time to prepare with what additional Intelligence you’re able to collect from the camp, and depending on that, we need to aim for hitting them tonight. Not that they’re showing signs of leaving, but things might begin to unravel the longer he is in the area.”

Thomas called for James, expecting him to emerge from the back of the office. A moment passed and he was greeted with a loud bang against one of the tables behind him. “We’ll pick the best from these to make sure we don’t have any problems getting in,” James said.

“You got that then?” Thomas asked

James nodded as he sorted through the books.

Thomas turned to Blaine. “You have anything more to tell us before we head out?”

“Don’t blow it.”