It was a chaotic morning to say the least. Ann wouldn't stop fussing over them, like a mother over their child on the first day of school. She made sure they were full, and Charlie gave them some money and another change of clothes. After many goodbyes, the brothers finally made it out the door, into 1941.
As they were walking down the street, Matthew couldn't help but notice the huge difference between modern America and WWII America. As they continued on, they took note of the propaganda posters everywhere. Matthew walked up to one, ripped it off the pole it was currently attached to, folded it neatly and placed it in his bag with the same amount of precision. Seeing the questioning look he was earning from his brother, he might as was as explain his logic.
"Alfred," Matthew began in a tone that one would use when talking to a small child (which wasn't far from the truth) "how many legitimate propaganda posters do you see around? The one in the museums are more decayed than intact most are remodels. When we find a way to get back home, it would be nice to take a little bit of history back with us." After awhile of aimless wandering, a police man started approaching them. Seeing this, Alfred tugged his brother in the opposite direction, walking fast, trying to lose him, not wanting to deal with the police at the moment. As they started navigating the backstreets, the policeman started jogging after them, causing Al and Matt to do the same.
They didn't want to deal with the police right now, they had no identification and no papers of any kind, that would definitely raise an eyebrow or two. After a bit of the stupid police man stalking them, it had turned on to a full on sprint goosechase. They had taken a sharp left and were met with a brick wall. Turning around to retrace their steps, the path was blocked by the officer, who was now slowly stalking towards them, knowing full well he had caught them like a fly in a web. He had finally reached them, grabbed them by their arms, and started hauling them towards where they had originally came from.
"You kids are gonna have to come with me."
Before either brother knew it, they were in a crowded office with a bunch of other guys, all ranging from 18 to 45-ish.
"C'mere you two," a not-so-nice-looking guy at the desk said to them. Matthew, confused, looked around, then pointed to himself with a look that said 'Who, me?' "Yeah, you two that just came in, come on up. Don't worry, I don't bite." He said, flashing a smile that had too many teeth. Hesitantly, the brothers walked up to the desk, which looked like something from a pharmacy office. Upon reaching the desk, he asked their names, how old they were, where they were from, who were their parents, and what their business or profession was. Both knew that wouldn't be able to say they were 17, since that wasn't legal age to be living alone. Alfred went first.
"My name is Alfred F. Jones and I am 18 years of age, from Houston Texas, my parents are dead (they weren't alive yet), and I moved here to live with my brother." The man seemed satisfied with that answer, then turned to Matthew, expecting an answer.
"I'm...um, Matthew W-williams, and I am 18 f-from Canada. My parents are dead, and I came here to buy a house to l-live with my brother there." Matthew stuttered out, mentally cursing himself for being a bad liar. The guy raised an eyebrow up at him, but didn't question it. After he wrote the information down, he stood up and saluted them.
"Well boys," he began "Welcome to the draft."
"Wait what?" Alfred asked, he wasn't sure he had heard him right. Noticing this, the man spoke up.
"The draft. We recruit young people much like yourselves to join the war."
"What about you? Why aren't you in the draft?" Alfred shot back, annoyed that they got caught up in this military crap, knowing it wasn't going to end well for either of them.
"I'm too old for this military, so I do my own part by helpin' out around this dump." he replied lazily, handing them both two tickets. "Y'all can go now, just wait for a letter." He laughed as Al and Matt turned to get back out into the street, away from all of this madness. Al was half-tempted to go back to Charlie's house, but then stopped short. Charlie was a young man. Being a young man in this era meant you were in the draft. That could only mean...
"Charlie's in the draft." Alfred said, barely above a whisper as soon as they had stepped out of the door. Matthew, having of heard him, let a gasp of surprise escape his mouth.
"Damn, if he gets called in..." Matthew started, not wanting to finish the thought, knowing full well where it was headed.
"He will have to fight in the war..." Alfred finished. He hastily turned to him. "We can't let him go alone, if he dies, we stop existing. We need to go protect him, Mattie."
Running down the streets, turning, left, right, straight, left.... They found Charlie's house sitting on the corner they had come from. Upon arriving, they weren't sure of what to do. They didn't want him to think that they were leeches or something, just asking for food. Using what little money he had given them that morning, they rented out a room in a crappy apartment complex.
A few weeks had passed, and still no letter from the draft, thank god. However, they couldn't say the same for Charlie. He had gotten a letter the night before, and was going to leave this morning; along with two teenagers following behind. The brothers had agreed to join the army as soon as he was called in, so they were just following through with their plan. Gathering what little belongings they had, they jumped up onto the jeep and rode it to Charlie's house to gather him and a few other recruitments. It was time to say hello to an acquaintance...
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?? YOU GUYS ARE JUST KIDS AND-" Alfred cut Charlie's yelling off, informing him that he was only a year older than him. They continued arguing like this for the majority of the trip, but Matt and Al simply refused to relent to his pleas. This was prolonged until the driver told them to 'shut their traps'. They had a silent glaring war for the rest of the ride. Well, Charlie was glaring at them, while Al and Matthew just smiled innocently at him. The jeep came to a sudden halt, but everyone was confused since they were in the middle of a dirt road, with nothing but the road in either direction. Matthew looked around at the four other men who he was sitting with, and none knew what was going on. Alfred tried talking to the driver, asking why they had stopped, but the driver wasn't responding. He hesitantly, poked the driver on the shoulder, but then jumped back with a small yelp of surprise. The driver had whipped around, with wide eyes full of fright.
"Don't go to the war! You don't know what is really happening there, the people who are captured, the dead...they don't stay dead." He was shaking at this point, "Someone is experimenting on them... The war isn't about just defeating the nazis anymore, it's become something bigger that any of us... The people aren't human, just mindless killing machines, just stay here, I'll even take you guys ba-" He was cut off by a flash of red suddenly erupting in front of them, no one knowing what to do, until they realized that he had been shot from behind.
Everyone started freaking out, tumbling out of the car, while the brothers weren't sure what to do...just sitting there. They eventually snapped out of it, remembering that they had to protect Charlie at all costs. The mystery shooter kept firing at them, shooting down two guys on either side of Matthew. He ducked his head down and kept on running, praying to God that he wouldn't be hit, and prayed even harder when he felt a bullet whiz past his ear. He dove behind a rock, where Alfred and another man Matthew didn't recognize were hiding behind.
"Where the heck is Charlie?!" Matthew practically screamed at his brother. Alfred turned to his brother, grief painting his features. He then opened his mouth and said the words Matt had been expecting, but was hoping that they wouldn't be true.
"I don't know."
Matthew frantically looked around for Charlie as best as he could, without being killed, that is. He spotted a man that looked like him, lying on the ground, face down about 12 feet away, unmoving. He had a sneaking suspicion the man wasn't just taking a nap. He elbowed his brother (not too softly) in the ribs and pointed over to where he was lying. Alfred nodded, getting that idea, then turned to the man next to him, and told him to keep a look out while they went and retrieved Charlie. Both assumed he wasn't dead, because, they would have probably exploded into gold sparkles or something, or whatever happened when you stopped existing. Seeing that the coast was clear they ran out, flipped the man over, confirming it was indeed Charlie, and Alfred lifted him up by his armpits, while Matthew handled the ankles. Running as best as they could, they had successfully made it back to the rock without any injuries. As they were searching Charlie's body for any signs of blood, they were surprised to find that there was no trace of it on any part of his body, but they had found a tranquilizer in place of it.
Why would they shoot the driver and the car, but tranq' the rest of us?... Matthew pondered, but was snapped out of it by the cease of gunfire. They man next to him, who had learned whose name was Vernon and he was 28 years old, was scanning the area, finding no sign of the shooters. It was like they had disappeared into thin air or something. Matthew turned over to Al, seeing his was trying to wake Charlie up by repeatedly slapping him...
"Um, Al? That's not going to wake him up any faster..." Matthew started, but stopped when Charlie suddenly sat up.
"Ha! See Mattie? It worked! AHAHAHAHA!" Alfred exclaimed, doing a little dance as best he could while sitting down, which just made it look like he had to go to the bathroom or something.
"Um, excuse me, sir." Matthew turned to see that Vernon was talking to him. Surprised that he had addressed him so formally, Matt managed to stutter out a quiet "Yes?"
"Well, it seems that the shooters have left the premises, leaving nothing but a dead driver and a useless Jeep. They took all of the tranqed ones, save for that soldier you saved right there." He said, gesturing to Charlie who was rubbing his face, glaring at Al. All four soldiers cautiously came out behind the rock, looking left and right, scanning the area for any mystery shooters. After they had deemed the area safe, they decided to fix the Jeep. Pushing out the dead driver, they put him far away, behind a bush to be exact, and worked on restarting the Jeep. Al and Charlie had found a spare tire and a lift in the trunk, while Matthew and Vernon had set to hotwiring the Jeep. After about ten minutes of silent work, Matthew broke the silence.
"What do you think the driver meant by how the 'dead won't stay dead' and the experiments performed on people?" It was a simple enough question, but it had set an uncomfortable tension in the air. The thing is, no one knew. They didn't want to know. After five slow minutes, Matthew decided that he couldn't take it anymore, so after informing everyone he was going for a walk, he left to go clear his head. He wandered so that he couldn't see the Jeep anymore, thankful for the isolation, it gave a moment for him to clear his head. However, the happiness was short lived. He felt someone grab him from behind and felt the cold blade of a knife pressed up against his neck, while someone whispered into his ear.
"Want a cupcake, poppet?"