Chapter 162: The gun debate...1
The crack split the air. The elder crumpled lifeless.
Another shot. Another body fell.
The villagers screamed. Parents shielded their children, husbands shielded their wives fear surged like wildfire. The chief staggered, horror breaking across his face as blood stained the earth before him. His son dead, his people slain, his peaceful village taken over by horror.
"How could you pay us with wickedness!" The chief bellowed. "You came to us seeking shelter, we gave you more than that! Our food, clothes, water and yet you turn on us and...."
’POP’ came the sound, the chief clenched his wounded chest as he fell to the ground.
"Damien!" Nora shouted, her facial features inked in disapproval of whatever was happening.
Did he not believe in karma? Had he not learned anything after they abandoned the rest of the Quinn’s and were rejected when they sought help later?
How could he be so heartless to shoot people like he would flies! How?
Without hesitation, Damien pointed the gun in
Nora’s direction. "One more word and you will say hello to them in heaven."
Nora whimpered. She could not believe that he had turned on her as well. The others were strangers, but she was his wife for heaven’s sake!
She looked at Avenn, hoping he would talk sense into Damien, but Avenn said nothing. In fact, he was also frightened.
Even though they had planned to take over the base, he did not think they would massacre all the villagers! He also didn’t think that Damien would become a superhuman. In fact, he thought they would share power after taking over the village. It seemed like that Damien had no such plans. He had already declared himself king!!
Shudders rippled through the crowd, the villagers realized that if this man could kill his own wife, then he would have no trouble killing them. One by one, they submitted. They knelt on the ground, bowing in trembling submission.
"Good." Damien muttered, chest heaving. "You have all made the right choice."
**********
The dining hall in the second wall of Fortress Four smelled of millet porridge, milk, fresh bread and fried eggs.
It was breakfast time and yet it was also time for something else: A meeting on the future of the children on the base. The children themselves were not in the meeting; they were out in the tent on the field.
Some soldiers, teachers and Father Nicodemus were watching over them. Their laughter rampant as they darted between obstacle course playfully. Others were obediently eating and listening to Father Nicodemus read a children’s bible story. A few clutched their toys, smiling with innocence.
In the dining hall, and on every television screen, Hades’s face appeared. He was sitting with Sunshine on that table in front of the hall.
"Quiet down everyone." He began. "This breakfast meeting was called for a reason. We need to decide if firearms training will be part of the curriculum for children over ten."
The room stilled. Spoons, forks and other cutlery paused mid-air. Someone dropped a cup.
Nellie Stewart a former schoolteacher who was now the head of the education committee on the base was the first to stand up.
"Pardon me Sir and Madam Sunshine, I am not sure if I heard you correctly. Did you say that you want to teach the children how to use firearms?"
"Yes." Sunshine confirmed.
"But they are already learning self-defense. They know how to hide, how to ration, observe the environment for signs of mist, read maps and....."
"And how will that help them if they cannot defend themselves from a mutated animal?" Hades asked.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Frank Gadriel was the first to break the silence. His voice cut through the air like a whip. "You want to teach our children how to kill! They are just children Mr. Quinn. Children! They are not soldiers, not some kind of fantasy warriors. They are kids. Do you hear yourself, Mr. Quinn?"
Hades did not flinch.
Sunshine raised her voice. "And how many of your children will die if our walls collapse in an attack or the bubble stops working and the watchers make it through?"
"But you said they were not violent." Someone shouted.
"Tell that to Joel Carmichael and the people at the white house." Major Elio responded.
Murmurs traveled among the people again. They had stopped fearing the watchers but now, they had to reconsider this.
Frank Galadriel pushed his plate away with such a force that a piece of bread slid to the floor. "It’s insanity. I will not have my children grow up holding guns instead of toys. If this is a vote, I say no. You all better choose what is right for your children." He told the other parents.
Lisha smirked. "Mr.Gadriel refrain from taking your anger out on the snacks, and you cannot waste food because we are in an apocalypse. If you have no desire to eat, pass the breakfast on to another."
Ashamed, Frank pinched his lips and picked the bread from the floor. "The bread is not the issue here, it’s insane that you want to take innocence away from our children."
Murmurs were rippling through the room. Some nodded at what Frank had said. Others shifted uncomfortably, caught between fear and worry.
Sunshine rose to her feet, placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. Her dark eyes swept across the room, sharp and unwavering. When she spoke, her voice was calm, but beneath it lay terror of fire.
"You are right Frank," she said. "It is insane. But look around you. We are living in insane times. The mist is moving closer every day, mutated animals and monsters come closer every day. The starving people out there who are looking to grab food and a sip of water are not far from us and they will kill for these things.
Other superhumans are also awakening outside. What will the children do if an evil one goes after them? What will they do if a slave trader grabs them?"
"But we have the walls." Someone said.
"Forget the walls." Sunshine barked furiously. "You have become too comfortable that you have forgotten there are far more dangerous things that the walls can’t keep out. Mist cannot be kept out by walls. The things that travel with the mist cannot all be kept out. When they come--and I say when because they will come. Do you want your children to offer up their necks or do you want them to protect themselves?"
Carson Warnock stood up and all eyes moved to him. "I was twelve when I learned to use a gun. My father taught me. It did not turn me into a killer. Having the knowledge or skill is not necessarily bad."
Mrs. Crawford, a psychologist stormed to her feet. "But what about the psychological cost. Many of you here are soldiers. Surely you have seen what happens to children in war zones when they are handed guns at a young age! Children that grow up with guns are changed forever."
Sunshine slammed her fist on the table. "Children that grow up in the apocalypse are going to be changed forever, like it or not. We are not talking about giving guns to toddlers," Suni continued, her voice raising. "We are talking about preparing the older ones. Teaching them skills, discipline and awareness not violence.
If they can learn to throw stones, they can learn to aim a rifle. If they can light a fire, they can pull a trigger. Are you going to fold your hands and hide your children behind you when danger comes in the hopes that you alone are enough to protect them?"