The assignment roster had to be some kind of mistake. Lee curled the sheet of paper into a tube, immediately noticed that it looked too much like a weapon, and unfurled it. No, he refused to appear threatening in any way. If he stated his case calmly and logically, perhaps he might be able to settle it in a compromise. He rapped on the solid door with his knuckles and then pushed his way into the office. "Markus?"
Markus looked up from his desk, a heavy book open between his hands. "Is there something wrong with this week's roster, Lee?"
"It's Smith."
"Yes, that is the name of the man I want on your team."
"I don't trust him."
"You don't trust ninety-nine percent of the Mountain's inhabitants, Lee."
"I really don't trust him."
"So he's broken through to your hundredth percentile." Markus shut his book with a muted thud and set it aside. The well-worn office chair squeaked as he eased his back into it, his hands folded behind his head. "Lee, I have complete confidence you'll reign him in if you need to."
Lee silently admired Markus' skills as a negotiator. He took the subservient position by not standing up, realizing he overshot Lee in height by a few inches. He forced Lee to look down on him, giving him an innate feeling of superiority. And yet, he subtly put Lee at ease by taking on a relaxed stance.
But this assignment was unacceptable, and Lee still needed to state his case. "Jeremiah..."
"On assignment with Erin."
"Kurdy?"
"He and his recruits are patrolling the borders. They won't return until Friday. Lee, Yatesville needs help now. Not next week. Not when I can find a better replacement for your partner. Now. A rover will be prepped and ready for you both first thing in the morning."
And there it was. The brick wall thrown up between them. Markus wouldn't tolerate any more objections, and Lee's hidden communications with Valhalla Sector still tarnished his reputation. He had very little leverage to negotiate. "Alright."
He left the office, his mind trying to deal with the undeniable fact that he'll be trapped on the road with Mister Smith for a week. He knew very little about the man himself, so Lee did what every self-respecting security officer would do in his position: he ran intel.
According to the database, there were seventeen Smiths in residence at Thunder Mountain, but none claimed relation to this man who just wandered in. That bristled Lee the most. Mister Smith trailed after Kurdy one day, and suddenly he was privy to the innermost workings of the Alliance. No background check, no intense scrutiny, not even a debriefing. Lee believed everyone who accepted the stranger's odd connection to God fell under a sort of mass delusion on par with Daniel's cult of personality. However mysterious this Mister Smith appeared, he was still only a man.
The trip commenced without much small talk. Lee didn't even have to tell Smith to climb into the passenger seat. It was like watching a dog clamoring straight to a parked car when it heard the jangle of keys, and something about Smith's demeanor rattled Lee to the core. Ordinary men did not behave the way Smith did, tensing at random moments and reacting to invisible dangers. Always on edge even while in the moving rover, watching mile after mile pass behind them without comment.
Lee divided his attention between the road and Smith, but Smith proved more interesting than the potholed highway. He intensely studied everything he set his eyes on. And the strangest thing of all: he waved. He waved vigorously at the children who gaped at the rare sight of a moving truck and to people working the vegetable patches that dotted the landscape. To anyone the truck passed, Smith shared a wave and a smile. After this happened for the sixth time, Lee was exasperated (or curious) enough to ask, "Why do you do that?"
"They looked like they needed it."
In the rear-view mirror, Lee watched the plainly surly group of men sink below the horizon. "What if they came after us?"
"That won't happen."
"How can you be so sure?"
Smith grinned serenely and shrugged. "Everybody's entitled to a hello."
"That doesn't make any--"
"Stop the truck," Smith said abruptly, his eyes aimed straight ahead.
It looked like Smith was staring right through the dashboard of the rover and focusing on something beyond. Lee reacted by shifting into a higher gear and revving the engine. "We cannot deviate from the main objective, Smith. This truck is going directly to Yatesville."
"Then I can't be in it."
"What are you talking--"
"Pull over. Drop me off. Right there." Smith pointed to a lone oak tree at the side of the road. "I'll catch up. I promise."
"The town is two days' walk from here. You'll never make it."
"Please? I have to leave." Smith tilted his head briefly. "Now. Or it'll be too late."
"They warned me you might pull a stunt like this." Lee downshifted and swiftly parked the rover near the tree.
"Thank y--"
"Smith, you're not going anywhere." Lee pulled his gun from his leg holster and butted the barrel hard against Smith's temple. "Except to Yatesville with me."
"You won't shoot," Smith replied softly, his voice a near-monotone.
"Is that something that 'God' said to you?"
"I just..." Smith shut his eyes, his demeanor calm despite the cold steel pressing against his head. "I don't think you're the kind of person who'd shoot a regular guy like me for no good reason."
"You are far from 'regular,' Smith. I've kept an eye on you from the beginning, you know that? Watched you ease yourself so casually into the Alliance's inner circle, earning everyone's trust. I don't buy it." Lee kept the gun aimed on Smith, a solid click marking the insertion of a bullet into the chamber. True to his training, Lee kept his finger to the side of the trigger. He wasn't about to squeeze off a round accidentally. Smith was valuable to the Alliance; Lee understood that, but he had to clutch at this chance to question the stranger. "What are you after?"
"I'm on a mission. Like you, Lee. I just follow orders," Smith said carefully. "That's it. I go where the Voice tells me to go. And that's all I know. I don't even..." His eyes shot open, his expression turning anguished. "I don't even know why I'm supposed to leave now but it's urgent and God says they'll die if I don't--"
"Who? Who will die?"
"I don't know, alright?! I never know! Not until I get there. Lee, please...."
"And you believe this? You really believe this?"
Smith gulped, the muscles in his neck tensing as he nodded. Wide rivulets of sweat trickled down his round cheeks. Lee had no doubts; Smith was scared, not of the bullet about to rip through his skull but of something even more terrifying, something more monstrous than imminent death. It made no sense to Lee. Most men broke down when faced with dying, and the threat was such a common interrogation tactic that Lee never hesitated to use it when debriefing a hostile. But this didn't seem to work with Smith. He was more afraid of disobeying that "Voice" than of getting his brains blown out.
"Damn you, Smith." Lee uncocked the gun, his arm dropping heavily. "Get out."
Smith gaped silently at Lee for a few seconds before shouldering his backpack and scrambling out of the truck. The woods seemed to swallow him whole.
Briefly, Lee wondered what would happen if he shot Smith in the leg. Would the man still try to hobble his way towards his goal, or would the pain be too great? He waited a few minutes, curious to see if Smith would return, but when he didn't, Lee started the truck up again and shoved it into gear, driving it back onto the road, back on the route to Yatesville.
As the miles drifted away, Lee tried to convince himself that Smith's departure wasn't his fault. He did his best to keep him in the truck and focused on the mission, didn't he? He tried to negotiate, but regular tactics meant nothing to Smith. Lee's grip on the steering wheel tightened. The sudden revelation was disturbing. Smith didn't respond normally to regular tactics; that made him dangerous.
Yet Markus saw nothing amiss about matching Smith with Lee for this one mission, and Lee ardently tried to follow Markus' reasoning behind it. It was true that Lee had little personal experience with Smith, but with the man shadowing Kurdy and Jeremiah for months, getting to know him was profoundly difficult. In addition, Lee needed to earn back the Alliance's trust. The thwarting of Daniel's faction within the Mountain was a start, but he still had a very long road ahead if he wanted to take back his post as Head of Security.
Perhaps he shouldn't have abandoned Smith. The man had, after all, endeared himself to several influential members of the Council, including Erin and Markus. If something happened to him while on this mission, Lee might be accused of neglecting his duty. The mission called for the both of them to arrive at Yatesville, and if only one of them ended up there...
The truck swung around and doubled-back across the highway.
Lee found the oak tree and parked the rover, hastily concealing it with brush and leaves and then heading in the same direction as Smith. But all the trees started to resemble each other, and he lost the path he was following. His rudimentary tracking skills didn't do much to aid him either. At the Mountain, he could rely on others with better knowledge of woodlands and what to look for when finding someone, but alone?
A gunshot cracked nearby, so loud that it scared a nearby flock of birds to take flight over Lee's head. He rushed towards the sound, pushing through bramble and stumbling across obstacles of dead wood. His attempt at stealth was momentarily forgotten as he noisily forged a path towards what he hoped was Smith.
The woods opened up into a clearing, a decaying shack planted at the far end. Lee stopped in his tracks, taking in the scene exposed before him.
A body lay prone on the ground, a puddle of dark blood seeping from its head.
Smith, a shotgun held in his trembling hands.
Far behind him, a woman with two small children. A boy and girl, their tiny, grubby hands clenched securely around the dirty fabric of the woman's skirt.
Smith lifted his eyes a moment, staring directly at Lee with a hollow, lifeless gaze. The shotgun clattered to the ground, and Smith soon followed, slowly drawing into himself, his arms wrapping around his legs in a loose hug. He began to sway back and forth, oblivious to his surroundings, trying to find comfort in the center of madness.
Lee warily approached Smith and took the shotgun. He removed the remaining shell from the barrel and tossed the weapon aside. It was too powerful to leave out in the open and probably belonged to the strange man who now lay dead on the grass.
"He saved our lives," the woman muttered to Lee. "But Matthew," she said, nodding towards the body. "You have to understand. He--he wasn't a bad man."
"Is Daddy gone now?" the little girl asked, her voice slightly lispy from the lack of front teeth. When Lee moved towards her, she instinctively shrank away from him. Dull purple bruises were visible on her arms and around her slim neck.
"I don't care," exclaimed the boy, angrily wiping tears from his face. Lee noticed a freshly-healed cut on the boy's left cheek, right below his eye. The boy seemed to not like strangers either, as he recoiled as soon as Lee got close.
"You still need to get rid of the body," Lee said. "We can bury him nearby."
"He can stay out here and rot..." the woman said between clenched teeth, her face caught between anger and grief.
Lee started to think that it would have been best to leave everything alone.
It seemed to take forever to coax Smith back into the truck. Lee ended up having to grab the man by his broad shoulders and roughly pull him to his feet. After that, he woke from his trance, still eerily quiet but at least aware of his surroundings. Lee said a very perfunctory farewell to the family and started to lead Smith back through the woods.
"You realize, Smith," Lee ducked his head to avoid a low-hanging branch. "You spent, you wasted all your time and energy on one small family. An entire town needs saving and thanks to your little side-trip, a dozen people might already be dead."
Smith stayed silent, even as he overtook Lee and forced a new path through the woods, his sense of direction assured. Lee had no choice but to follow, nearly losing Smith as the man pulled too far ahead. When Lee finally reached the rover, Smith already cleared off most of the branches and began to clamor into the cab. Lee slid into the driver's seat and they were off down the road.
The sun started to set behind them, but Lee knew better than to immediately turn the headlights on. Two bright beams of light were much too conspicuous a sight after dark, and it was better that the truck stay hidden. The only thing he switched on was the heater, which was little comfort against the encroaching autumn cold.
Smith held his knapsack in his lap, his fingers absently rubbing at the worn, canvas straps. "He was hurting them. The kids."
"That's how it seemed."
"That's how it was," Smith corrected. "And the kids? They let him do it." His voice wavered, faint and teetering on the edge of tears. "They wanted to run away, but they couldn't because... 'Cuz they were afraid if they weren't there, he'd start hitting her."
"The mother?"
"Why are we going to Yatesville again?"
Odd how Smith tended to answer a question with a question. Directly dodging an uncomfortable topic by completely changing the subject? In another lifetime, perhaps one where the Big Death never happened, Lee could easily imagine himself studying Smith and trying to understand why the man acted the way he did. Why the delusions and the impulsiveness? Why the strange tendency to immediately blame his actions on God? And the circumstances with that family? Pure coincidence. Striking in their accuracy, but Mister Smith was still only a man. Lee had begun to understand why the others seemed so fascinated by him.
"They're right on the border with another territory and raiders have been invading the town," Lee said. "Stealing food. The entire community is frightened and starving. We're going to deliver some supplies and negotiate Alliance protection."
The answer seemed to placate Smith enough to put him at ease. He sank wearily into his seat, relaxing for the first time since the trip began.
With silence filling the small truck cab once again, Lee was left alone with his thoughts on the day. "Smith, um...about this afternoon. I'm not...it was just routine, you understand?" He chuckled nervously, shifting his position on the duct-taped cushion. How he hated having to apologize! "I couldn't let you just wander off. I mean, it was against orders and..." Lee quickly gazed over to his passenger, trying to see if the man was paying attention.
Smith was asleep, his face peaceful, his brow devoid of the tense furrow it usually held.
Lee took another deep breath, his lungs filling with needed oxygen. No chance he'd be able to push Smith to drive a few miles while he took a short, restful nap. Rubbing his eyes to clear away some of the fatigue caused by the day's events, he continued to drive until late into the night.