Dystopia Chapter 45: StepUp, Lead

Sitting around the table, we took turns sharing our recent interrogation experiences. We answered questions, then pondered plausible options. To intervene or stay away? The opportunity cost?

Frank, Joshua, Addison, Brett, Mr. Maddox, an uninvited committee representative (with their security personnel), the other two Scout Team leaders, and I. Unfortunately, Cord and Diana had yet to return. A fact no one seemed to notice.

We considered the recent visit and shared their cautionary message. Thirty minutes of questioning, bird-walks, the paramount concern… was there someone spying on us? Not the IED, lost wagon and supplies, beat-down, nope, just the warning. Who and why are they spying on us? Is there a mole in our community? Am I the reason for this mess? Am I the cause? This all started with the ‘murder’ of the doctor. My role, the Team. The recent spread of wanted posters. Rewards. Dead or alive.

In the interrogator’s words… stay away… honey pot… don’t look back, or come back… the twelve… and a scribbled note la ayuda…

Should we just walk away? Why not? They seem fine. Why get involved? Twelve females… why so many? Any men? Claire in charge. Her connection with the regional governor? Only saw three who appeared armed. Why the note? Was there someone lurking nearby, listening? Where did they get the materials to construct explosive devices? Great location to watch the Well. They appeared well-kept. Did they need help, or was it a trap? Our review dragged on. Everyone with an opinion. Lots of talk. Blah, blah, blah…

“JESSE!”

“Sorry, squirreled for a moment.”

“What’s the plan?” Frank asked.

“Hell if I know. Addison, your thoughts… anyone?”

Crap, here we go, back down the rabbit hole. I scanned the proverbial room. Frank and the committee, both overly eager to move forward; Joshua and Brett, cautious; Mr. Maddox, a definite no; and Addison, a thinker thinking, the apparent brains of the gang.

The other team leaders pulled back, confiding.

Addison, addressing no one in particular but looking at me, said, “Sucks to be you. You know, this team leader thing. Lead.”

Stomach churning. I stood — a runner was heading our way. They stopped at our table, catching their breath. “They’re back.”

Addison, stepping into my line of sight, hands on her hips, head cocked, was still expecting an answer.

Thoughts crashing together, intermixed, God, my head hurt, Cord and Diana in view, Susan and her status, the hilltop, twelve women, self-reliant or detained, a trap, the regional governor, rewards, dead or alive, the lives of the Scout Team, the needs of the Well… unveiled indecisiveness.

I never asked to lead. All I wanted was to hide away, serving meals in the kitchen. In my mind, I see Emily huddled on the roof that night, afraid, and the inebriated, crazed doctor facing us. He shot first, missed. Why did he miss? I hear Diana’s voice.

“We found her. We have a plan.”

A moment of clarity. I looked around, then at Addison, and said, “This is a total trap, a setup.”

Silence, a moment of reflection. Then the Scout Team leaders stood and asserted, “We’ll do it.”

Could only shrug, thinking, do what you will — either be heroes or, more likely, victims, with little to be gained.

“I’m finished…” Looking at Diana, I asked, “A plan?”

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