Vanguard | Post-Apocalyptic YA

Part 6: Life is Full of Choices

"Ah, gentlemen. Just who we were coming to see," an older man with a shaved head addresses us before extending his hand. "Jim Bradford, governor of this here establishment."

If he intends to impress us with the announcement of his position, then Governor Bradford's certainly failed, but we reciprocate the introductions. I notice that like the others, he also has a gun holstered under his arm.

"I wanted to personally thank you for agreeing to deliver us those two ships," he continues while steering us toward the exit. Jed, Nelly, and another man follow closely – and silently – behind.

"It's not like we have much of a choice, sir," Ray responds succinctly.

"Of course you do, son! That's the beauty of life. It's full of choices. Now some may certainly be more appealing than others, but I'm glad that we could all come to an agreement on this specific issue."

What a smug bastard, I think to myself, but I play along. "And you're sure that my sister's going to be all right?"

"Absolutely. I've been told that she should be good as new by the time you return." He slaps me on the back in emphasis. "Speaking of which, I think it's just about time for you to set off."

We've reached the glass door, but before proceeding, Bradford pulls out a handheld radio and gives an order. "Lights out, over."

Almost immediately, the hallway goes dark and Jed draws the curtain open.

"Perimeter status check, over," Bradford continues and I absent-mindedly wonder who's on the other end of this communication.

"Roger that, sir. Perimeter appears to be clear," the response soon comes and after unlocking the glass door, Jed steps outside.

"Give him a minute," the governor puts his hand against my chest, stopping me as I begin heading toward the door. I know I'm young, but I'm still used to being dealt with more respect; however, I'm on his turf so I keep my opinions about where he can shove things to myself. So instead, we all watch as Jed runs out into the moonlit night and disappears around the corner. As promised, he's back a short time later.

"They're good to go, sir," he reports back, but as we prepare to leave, the radio breaks the silence.

"Unknown subjects at ten o'clock. I repeat, unknown subjects approaching at ten o'clock. Hold your positions until further notice, over." The voice is agitated and the sentiment affects the group around us.

"Roger that," Bradford responds before quickly re-locking the door. We all take a few steps back, but the shades remain open so we can see what's happening outside. For a few minutes, it amounts to a big, fat nothing until we finally see a dark figure slowly approaching through the parking lot. It's moving at a labored pace and I can't even make out its species until it gets about fifty yards in.

It's human. More specifically, it's a man carrying another person, cradling the limp body in his arms.

I glance at my companions and apart from Ray, they're expressionless – perhaps even to the point of boredom. My friend, however, is watching every move as intently as I suppose I am, squinting his eyes to discern every detail.

When the newcomers are just a few feet away, the man begins yelling and his muffled words send chills down my back.

"Please, help us! Let us in! She's dying. Please don't let her suffer," he begs and I can see that he has tears flowing down his dirty cheeks.