The Cold North Wind

This is what I wrote today.  I did not edit it (much) so it's rough.  

It is part of a Zombie series I am working on.

A small war had just concluded between a group of survivors in Oklahoma City.  One group survives between OKC and Yukon and another group was  living in the Towers of a ruined Downtown OKC.

Steven was the commander of the West side army and ordered seven men to die in an ambush.  They did so without question but Steven is finding it hard to deal with those men dying at his command.

             

"How long they been at it," Reynolds asked. 

                The north yard had two platoons of new recruits conducting physical training and combative exercise.  They were young men and women red-faced from the exertion and the powerful cold north wind.

                "A little after sun-up, so about three hours," Steve said. 

                He stood in his combat uniform.  His sleeves rolled up and his scarred thick arms crossed.  His face was red from the wind and his eyes were red from crying.

                "Brisk this morning," Reynolds said.  He zipped his coat up.  "Not too cold for them?"

                "Nah, they are eager" Steve said.  "Fools."

                "Get any sleep last night," Reynolds asked. 

                Steve pursed his lips.  His cold stare fought against the equally frigid winds.

                “I ordered them to their deaths,” Steve said. 

                The stiff wind was a change from the warmer days earlier in the week.  Steve did not show any sign it bothered him.

                Reynolds pulled his coat collar tighter around his neck and stared out over the people in the north yard conducting training. 

                "I looked them in the eyes and ordered them," Steve's eyes watered, not from the wind, but from the guilt.

                "Yes but they volunteered.  They were asked by me. Ordered by you. But ultimately they volunteered and knew what they were doing," Reynolds said. 

                "They were boys," Steve said.

                "No.  None of that group, of Diddo's group, were all men."

                "When I looked in their eyes I saw boys,"

                "None of Diddo's men are boys.  They have seen too much to be called boys,"

                "Still,"

                "We asked them to sacrifice their lives to protect everything west of the river, everything that you, me and everyone else has worked so hard to hold on to," Reynolds said.   "Seven young men died bravely so that three thousand could survive,"

                "I'm leaving," Steven declared.

                "You won't change your mind?"

                "I can't."

                "Where will you go?"

                "West?"

                "There is nothing west of here."

                "I hope so."

                "You are a hero to everyone here.  You have saved us all multiple times first from the zombies, then from the scavengers and marauders and then from the Darron Corporation.  You and Diddo have saved us all too many times to count." 

                "Some of his men are coming with me,"

                "How many,"

                "A handful.  You won't notice them gone.  We are all in the same boat, our thousand yard stares disturb too many people here to make a life."

                "When will you leave,"

                "The next group of Darron refugees you send west, me and the others will be with them."

                "What do you need?"

                "Nothing, just time to mourn, time to heal, time to be forgiven."

                "Okay," Reynolds turned from the edge of the building and away from the cold wind.  Just when he thought winter was over.  "Tell Diddo to get them inside, this wind is ridiculous."

                Diddo sat across the desk from Reynolds. 

                "Who is leaving with Steven," Reynolds asked.

                "I was wondering when he'd tell you," Diddo said. "Ten men."

                Reynolds looked up from his roster of soldiers.  Surprised.

                "Ten?"

                "Yessir, Matt, Scott, Andy and Joel."

                "Matt and Joel are Lieutenants,"

                "I have men to replace them," Diddo said. "Peter and Don, Ryan, Ty and Dale."

                "All these guys have been here from the beginning.  They are good troops."

                "They are broken troops.  I wouldn't say it but they are.   Some have seen and done too much, others were never meant to be soldiers but they were good at it and paid a price.  I want to say they can be fixed but I have talked to them and they just aren't there anymore."

                "This fight with the Darren group was hard on everyone and especially those guys on the front lines.  What will they do?"

                "I don't know.  Steven hasn't made them any promises or given them hope.  Only that they can leave and that's what they want."

                Reynolds went through his list Diddo gave him and marked the names in the roster. 

                "That's only nine.  Who is number ten?"