Chapter 228: G.E. - I

The announcement reached Route One shortly after breakfast.

Golden Eagle Command had sent the same notice through its military posts, civilian councils and survivor settlements across Grefort and the surrounding routes. Copies were already heading toward the northern settlements, the nuclear power plant and Saicine.

Priya heard the radio version first.

By the time she crossed the commercial block, someone had already written most of it across a board outside the receiving station.

------

GREFORT CENTRAL THREAT ELIMINATED.

NO MAJOR INFECTED CONCENTRATIONS REMAIN WITHIN THE SECURED CITY.

CORE DISTRICT REMAINS RESTRICTED PENDING ENGINEERING, RECOVERY AND BIOLOGICAL CLEARANCE.

------

The rest concerned roads, restoration work and where civilians could report damaged infrastructure. Nobody paid much attention to that part.

Pip stood directly in front of the board with the four teenagers gathered behind her.

"Sister soldier, I can’t read. What is this about?"

Priya stopped beside them. "Grefort City is safe now, Pip."

"Was it because of the Commander and you?"

Priya’s brows twitched. "No. Other sister and brother soldiers also helped."

Pip ignored the correction and tried to read the first two lines again to no avail.

"Can’t understand it but you said it, sister soldier! The Commander cleared Grefort!"

Her voice carried farther than she probably intended.

Several people near the receiving station looked over. One of the teenagers laughed while the boy who once wore road-sign plates leaned closer to the board.

"It says the Core is still restricted."

"Sister soldier, what does that mean?"

"Nobody can go inside the center of the city for now."

"But why, sister soldier?"

Priya rubbed the little girl’s head. "It’s still dangerous there, Pip. Little kids like you should remain home for now."

"But I have sister soldier and the Commander! Won’t I be safe?"

Priya sighed. Explaining things to Pip somehow made them more complicated.

The boy frowned at Pip before returning to the notice.

Around them, more residents were starting to gather. Some had heard the radio announcement already, while others only stopped after seeing the crowd around the board.

Questions passed between them quickly.

Were the eastern roads open now?

Could people travel through the city without an escort?

Did this mean the fighting was finally over?

Nobody had one answer for all of that, but the important part was already spreading—Grefort was clear.

Someone near the back of the crowd started clapping. Another joined him.

Within a few seconds, half the receiving station had turned noisy.

Pip raised both arms.

"Golden Eagle won!"

Priya covered her face with one hand. There was no point correcting that one.

...

The cheering did not stop with Pip.

Someone shouted a thank-you toward the soldiers near Ramp Four. Another voice followed from the commercial block, then several more until the guards at the gate found themselves receiving congratulations from people they had barely spoken to before.

One Army Soldier looked toward Priya.

"What did you start?"

Priya pointed at Pip.

"Ask her."

Pip proudly placed both hands against her waist.

"I told everyone the Commander won!"

The soldier stared at her for several seconds before returning to his post.

The four teenagers remained near the notice.

The boy who once wore the road-sign plates read through it again while the others watched the crowd.

"So what happens now?" the teenage girl asked.

"People go home, I guess," one of the boys answered.

She looked toward the buildings around Route One.

"Is that really the case? Some people don’t have one anymore."

That quieted them for a moment.

Several residents nearby were already discussing the same problem. Some talked about returning deeper into Grefort now that more roads were opening. Others had already settled into the commercial block and saw little reason to move again.

Some only rented rooms in the city and had home elsewhere in Ashington, or even abroad.

The boy with the plates looked toward the soldiers around Ramp Four.

"What about them?"

"What about them?"

"If Grefort is safe, what are they going to do?"

One of the other boys shrugged.

"Probably go somewhere else."

"Maybe."

He continued watching the soldiers.

A few months ago, seeing that many armed people would have been enough to make him find another road.

Now he found himself wondering how someone joined them.

...

The same announcement drew a quieter crowd inside the Southwest Colony.

The place had been shrinking for weeks. People whose homes survived had already begun leaving for inspected districts, while several businesses reopened wherever electricity, water and usable buildings returned.

Those still living inside the Colony had more complicated reasons for staying.

Councilor Turner finished reading the notice aloud near one of the registration tables.

A few people clapped. Others talked among themselves while several simply returned to whatever they had been doing before the announcement arrived.

One man near the front raised his hand.

"Councilor. You’re here. We appreciate Golden Eagle’s efforts but we have questions."

Councilor Turner faced them. "Speak it out."

"What happens to the rest of us?"

Turner looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"My apartment building is gone."

Another voice came from behind him.

"Mine too."

Several people laughed, though there was little humor behind it.

Turner rested both hands against the table.

"Nobody is being forced out of the Colony. If you have somewhere inside Grefort you can return to, the existing inspection and registration process still applies. If you don’t, you stay here until you decide what you want to do."

That settled some of the murmuring.

A woman farther back looked toward the northern road.

"The city is safe, but we can still be here?"

"If that works for you, then yes." Turner nodded. "Are you going to ask me how you’re going to live your life next?!"

"Councilor, who will lead Grefort after the fall?"

"Is it still this Commander, erm Golden Eagle was it?"

"Or are you going to become mayor of the city, sir?"

That question drew several laughs. Turner stared at the woman who asked.

"No."

The answer came quickly enough that the crowd laughed again. Another man raised his voice.

"Then what about the Commander? Golden Eagle?"

Murmurs followed. Turner let it continue for a moment before speaking.

"Golden Eagle controls most of the security inside Grefort because they’re the ones who cleared it. The councils are handling civilian matters where we can. That does not make me mayor, and as far as I know, nobody appointed the Commander either."

A few people exchanged looks. Someone near the back spoke.

"Does he need to be appointed? He’s the one with the army."

Another man frowned.

"That’s exactly what worries me."

"What, you think he’s going to point the guns at us?"

"I don’t know him. You don’t know him. Nobody here knows him. That’s the point."

"You say that but his soldiers cleared the city."

Turner raised his voice before the argument went farther.

"Enough. Neither of you knows what the Commander intends to do and neither do I."

A woman beside the registration table crossed her arms.

"Then who does that leave us with? You? Councilor Ross?"

Turner stared at her.

"Absolutely not."

Several people laughed.

"Councilor, you’re already doing half the work."

"I’m handling supplies. If moving boxes qualifies me to govern Grefort, we’re in worse trouble than I thought."

Someone farther back spoke.

"Then shouldn’t we ask him?"

"If you have the courage to do so, go ahead. I will not stop you. I’m just a damn supply manager here, why are you dragging me into your nonsense?"

Turner glanced toward the Golden Eagle checkpoint beyond the Colony.

"But I don’t imagine the man commanding half the military around Grefort is waiting for us to decide his political career."

The tension eased, although the question remained.

One older man raised his hand.

"Have you even met him, Councilor?"

Turner paused.

"Briefly."

That immediately drew several more questions than the previous argument.

"What is he like?"

"Is he good-looking?"

"Impossible. He must be old!"

Turner scratched the side of his face.

"The Commander is young."

Several people stared at him, waiting for something else.

"That’s it?"

"What do you want me to say? He doesn’t wear a damn crown."

The crowd laughed. Turner slapped his hand on the table loud enough that it silenced everyone.

"If you want answers about who governs Grefort, I’ll bring the question to the other councilors and the Commander. Now, if you have no business with me today, scram. I don’t want to hear another political talk about who governs what. Do you not have any other jobs to do?"

Several people complained under their breath, but the crowd began dispersing anyway. The argument continued in smaller groups as people returned to their work.

Turner watched them leave before looking toward the northern road. Apparently, he really did have another question to bring to the others.