Vanguard | Post-Apocalyptic YA

Part 13: A Cot and Three Squares

"I hope you know what you're doing, Will," Ellen whispers to me as we step out the door.

"Yeah. I do, too, princess." I wink at her and she finally relaxes enough to smile.

"Are you kids hungry?" Juanita asks. Unlike Bradford, she sounds like she genuinely cares about our comfort, and I begin to warm to her already. Perhaps it's also because she reminds me a little bit of my mom. They even have the same dark shade of shoulder-length, wavy hair.

"Absolutely. As long as it's not vegetable stew day. That didn't agree with me the first time." I pat my stomach.

She laughs. "No, I think it's corn chowder and tofu meatloaf."

"As long as it doesn't have the word fish in it, I'm in," Ellen joins the conversation.

"You don't have to worry about that. I wish we had seafood more often. It's fairly challenging for us to fish and when we do catch something, it's rather limited. Being almost completely a vegetarian for two decades has been quite an experience for this steak lover," she laments while leading us down the hallway.

"So, what's his deal? Bradford, I mean," Ellen asks after a few seconds, swiftly changing the subject and going into reconnaissance mode. "How did he become your leader? What sort of setup do you have in terms of government?"

"Oh, Jim? He's a former Navy Seal who used to work security at this facility even before we got holed up here. When we initially got locked down, he played a big part in keeping things organized. Once the Autonomous Omega Republic was established—"

"Fancy," I blurt out and Ellen smacks my arm with the back of her hand.

Juanita doesn't seem to mind the interruption and she just laughs. "Yes, it's quite fancy. That's probably why most people just refer to it as O-town."

"So by picking a name like Omega, you must think you're the last place like this left," Ellen hypothesizes.

"Unfortunately, we're almost sure of it. For a long time, we were able to stay connected to a network of radio transmission stations across the country to get periodic updates about what was happening on the outside. Quite a few of these sites have dropped out of the loop mostly due to their loss of power, but even those that are still online haven't reported back in years." Juanita sighs as we walk before continuing. "Anyway, after the first few governors passed away, Jim became a natural choice for the position. He's not a dictator, of course. There's also a small council that works with him to resolve any issues that may arise."

She opens the door to a stairwell and we go up one flight.

I feel like we've stepped into a whole new building because the environment is completely different from the stark, administrative setup of the level below. Colorful, hand-drawn pictures line almost every available surface on the walls and similarly crafted projects hang from the ceiling. There's also a lot more noise on this floor, but it's not confined to just talking. There's music coming from someplace and it's mixed with a clattering of silverware, as well as the bouncing of multiple balls.

"Apart from when you're sleeping and when you're working, you'll spend almost all of your time on this level," Juanita explains.

Although I don't want to delay getting to the source of the pleasant smells permeating through the air, I can't help asking a question. "What kind of work?"

"Oh, it could be almost anything. We have teachers and custodians, cooks and doctors, or farmers and librarians. We'll help determine what you're good at, along with what skills we need filled. Everyone needs to do their part." She smiles again, but the gesture doesn't lighten the seriousness of what she conveyed, and I'm already starting to worry that I'll be tasked with something that I can't manage. Having reached out destination, however, temporarily postpones my musings.