Connie is short for Simon Conrad. He's a middle aged man with a swarthy complexion, heavy wrinkles and stocky build. Connie is full of information concerning almost everyone who lives in this complex.
"Really"? says Tomas. Tomas is a teenager. He never uses his last name and seems more naive than a kid his age during these times should be. He clings to Connie like a puppy clings to his master when he knows he's got a big soup bone in his pack.
Plots, counter-plots, machinations, schemes, hopes, goals and ambitions are interwoven like a gossamer web, nay like a thick shadow upon this compound of lost souls. Four days I have wandered the halls of this place following innuendo, chasing conspiracy, capturing a bucketful of gossip and mistrust. I sink deeper into my surroundings. Fast Eddie calls them a team. After all they have been through, losing family, homes, and their way of life to a draconian government I had hoped they would have bonded more. Deep down are we just a bunch of frightened apes, throwing stones at our unseen enemies? Is there any hope we might become more, that we might aspire for an ideal that benefits us all without destroying that which is perceived to be different? What is humanity and are we just shades of what we could attain if we could somehow shake our instincts to distrust?
Connie continues, "What's more important than who Donna's bangin, is who's Donna workin for? I think she sold us out. I think she sold us and the Old Man out to Homeland Defense. Those techies hold all the secrets and grunts like us, well hell, we're just fodder for the probes. When the time comes and one of them probes hits ole Connie with its stun ray, I hope I can count on ya to finish me off so I don't be getting cozy in one of them detention centers at Gitmo!"
Tomas swallows hard, "Ya know ya can count on me Connie!" I'll make the bastards pay if it comes to it".
Connie puts his arm on Tomas' shoulder and says, "Ah boy, ya make me proud. If I had me a son, I could do no better than yerself."
Tomas blushes and then smiles broadly, "That mean I get yer stuff if ya get wasted by them probes"?
Connie backhands the boy lightly and says, "That means ya better hope I live forever so yer sorry ass has someone to look after it".
They pad off into the darkness like so many others over the last few days. I should have checked in with Fast Eddie several days ago, but what have I really learned? I have learned that Fast Eddie is a complicated man who sleeps less than three hours a night. I've learned that the hospital ward is low on supplies and is near the breaking point trying to keep the injured from passing on into the spirit realm. I've learned that if the Michigan Militia were pressed into battle they would be hard pressed not to wipe themselves out via friendly fire. What I have not learned about is how many traitors this group has amongst them and when and how will they plot to bring the Michigan Militia to its doom. I sense my wife, my dear Xena's approach and we settle into a dark corner to brief each other on the progress of our investigation as we have done every few hours since we started this assignment.
"Any luck"? I ask.
"Either there is no plot from within to destroy the Michigan Militia, or the masterminds are so clever that they will accomplish their goal without our knowledge." Life says.
I add, "I have added to my book of secrets that the regular militia do not trust the techies". Sighing deeply I look at my wife to indicate we have exhausted our investigation.
Life says, "Today, I even entered the mainframe of their central server. That strange anomoly that Franky mentioned is still pinging their systems". She paused for a moment deep in thought, "It is so complex, but I suspect that it is not coming from an internal source at all. I think we need to talk to Eddie about checking the cave complex where we first came into this compound".
I hug my wife for a moment, lost in tenderness. It is her keen intellect and her quiet unassuming approach to problems that always intrigued me about her. Life looks at me in wonderment, "Now is not the time for that you letch!" I grin broadly imagining a good time for that while we start off toward Eddie's room.
Along the way we pick up a conversation I have heard with increasing frequency over the last few days. I recognize the man as one of the orange suited prisoners from my village. He is talking to a young female techie with braided blond hair.
"I saw him when Fast Eddie picked us up in that troop transport. It was this guy from our village. He became our war cry, even though none of us knew his name. We called him our voice. This guy runs out in the street and takes on one of their tanks all by himself. The tank tore him to shreds. He was defiant to the end. I guess he just got tired of being pissed on. We all left his house alone out of respect. It became his tombstone. We went out, organized and fought back. He gave us purpose. I don't know how, but he's back. Some of the men think Eddie has gone crazy, talking to his ghosts, talking to himself. You might think I'm crazy too, but that ghost is real. When you see him you shudder down in your soul because you know that if he wants you, you are dead, but there's something more. I could see it in his eye...he remembers. He remembers us. If I see him again, I'm gonna swear myself to him".
The young techie seems awed but says, "Oh Bobby, you aren't crazy, you're just a big dreamer".
The couple walks past Fast Eddie's room and we stop to knock at his door.
Just then, we hear the alarms go off indicating that the complex is on full alert.