The Lost Canaries

Chapter 6: One Table from Hell, Please

"I've finally been able to work a few shifts at the restaurant this past week with the last graduate training sessions winding down. Still not a lot of time for the family. Or Elyse. Or anything..." Woody says. His eyes wander outside the dome toward Main Campus with a longing stare. He adjusts his camouflage uniform that has always been too tight. Our commanding officer strolls past and claps Woody on the shoulder, snapping him back to attention. "So... James, you still eating with your family at the restaurant tonight?"

"Unfortunately... Meili's been trying to set this dinner up for weeks. I think we're all just agreeing to go so she shuts up."

"James, I don't want to force you into anything, but I think you need to make up with your family. Or at least try. You'll need them during your time here." Woody offers an encouraging smile as he sits on the cot opposite me.

I purse my lips, hesitant. "I wish their forgiveness was that easy to come by."

"They'll come around. What else do we have here in the end? And besides... I can always crack some jokes while taking your orders if you need the tone lightened up," Woody says with a grin, and I realize how thankful I am he will be with me in Sedona. I just hope I don't lose him like all the others. Maybe I should be kinder to Woody. He is my second chance after all.

* * *

I ride the elevator down to the lobby a few hours later. The words "Welcome to Camp Maverick" are mounted above the granite receptionist desk. Photos of CANARY Miners during missions or on-campus training border the welcome sign.

Then I catch sight of a television news broadcast to the left of the receptionist desk. A mound of dead bodies litters the concrete in front of an ornate city building. Officials in quarantine suits are securing the area. An anchor's voice layers over the broadcast, "An unnamed suspect deployed an aerosol poison near the Federal Chancellery building in Berlin, Germany. Luckily, the Chancellor was not present. The culprit remains at large and is a suspected member of a German revolutionary group. Surrounding city blocks have all been evacuated while officials search for additional information...."

The receptionist shoots me a haunted look. "I guess people didn't realize how angry they were at their government before the Red Doves reminded them. World War III might be right around the corner."

"I think the Red Doves just made people realize a revolution was possible," I counter.

"Only a matter of time before one of these attacks takes a leader out. Like Archduke Ferdinand in World War I. Could even happen here..."

The channel shifts to a piece about rising Red Dove abductions along the Eastern Seaboard. I avert my eyes as a flurry of missing people, including children, flashes across the television. "Our forces here and around the world will keep people in check," I say to the receptionist, turning my back on the screen. But how long can I continue to turn away?

I stroll down the front steps of the military compound. From the outside, Camp Maverick is a massive three-story building made of bulletproof glass. A crystal tunnel branches off the main facility and connects to the Armamax Special Weaponry Unit, a box-shaped command center with glass as dark as shadow. The CANARY Miners are the "secret sixth branch of the U.S. military," kept classified to prevent tipping off the Red Doves about our true fighting capabilities. After the United States Armed Forces deployed thousands of troops overseas to contain the Red Dove-inspired rebel groups, CANARY filled the shortages by training interested refugees and spare army reserves, along with state and local military personnel assigned here, for the Miners. CANARY Headquarters is tucked away in Puerto Rico rather than D.C. to not only house the thousands of refugees, but to directly enlist and train them like the army recruiters in high school cafeterias. We are all a united front, refugees and military officials alike, out here at the edge of a country in turmoil. Many refugees would never be soldiers under normal circumstances, but the thought of doing nothing after a loved one's abduction is almost shameful. Almost...