Read Online The War Game by Crystal Black - Free Book Online Page A

confined in one location (such as the theater) because then it would be like taking out a litter with one stone.
     
    ~~~
                 
                  It was weird talking to the Nomads. They had been here just a few months and had been at some other camp before then. They must have had an awful time because there was maybe a full set of teeth for every five people and clothes that looked like they were salvaged from the garbage can of a mechanic. There were perhaps a couple dozen of them left, they said there was at least a hundred of them in the beginning. But bombs were dropped and people were starved so their numbers were whittled down. So it was decided that we would move at night in small groups.
                  After the ceremonial march thing and the Nomads said a few words, people started to scatter into their mouse holes.
                  A few stayed behind to dig the grave. No one had shovels; they all used their hands and feet to break away dirt. One had a small cardboard box to scoop up dirt. One woman stood by, holding some wilted flowers she probably just happened to find growing somewhere while on her way to the burial.
                  John and I hung around for a little bit with a handful of people from our camp. We helped them dig a hole and find some flowers to put on top. Made it look like we cared.
                  Here we were again at Adventure Golf, where the fun never stops. I spotted the same shoulder blade from before just a short distance away.
                  “That one there was my wife,” a Nomad who smelled of rotten, black bananas pointed to a body-sized dirt patch. We expressed some condolences and one of his comments struck me as odd, “She was laid to rest less than a week ago.” I saw a small bone sticking out, either from a finger or a toe. You’d think they would bury the bodies a bit deeper.
                  John and I started to head back to the front gates of the golf course when pieces of the past day’s events started to come together. Those particular bones I saw had no flesh on them. According to my anatomy book, a lot of factors are involved with the length of time it takes for a body to decompose. The elements, bugs, how well the body is buried, and so on. That body we found had been buried for seven days, give or take a day. It takes at least twenty to fifty days, if not much, much longer, for a body to fully decompose so that just the bones and maybe the hair is left. I couldn’t double-check my facts because the damn book was stolen but I knew my hunch was rightthese bones were picked clean like a chicken wing.
                  Fuck.
                  And now, at this very moment in this very spot, the Nomads outnumbered us.
                  The man turned and looks at me, practically salivating, “We have extra room back at our neck of the woods. We can certainly squeeze in a couple more bodies.”
                  I started to back away and so did John. He had no idea yet, but still. On a good day, who would want to sleep next to someone who smelled like that?
                  They were all looking at us now. “No, thank you,” I managed to say rather calmly. “We have other plans.”
                  The Nomad smiled, “Well, please let the others know of our offer.” Even if I hadn’t discovered their secret, it would have been just as creepy. Having a toothless, dirty man act so cordially is just odd.
                  “Sure thing,” John lied.
                  As soon as we were out of their sight, I ran and John followed suit. “Why are you running?” he yelled. “Are you gonna get sick?”
                  I felt nauseous indeed but I don’t think I was going to vomit. Luckily, the shock of it all was a bit stronger than my queasiness.  We came to a safe