(It's) Always There
Copyright© 2026 by Daniel Tors
Chapter 17
Voices indistinct and blurred didn’t give up how many people entered or were speaking with her, his ear pressed to the wall not catching any specific word, just that they weren’t being loud. This state, and his place, remained until the door opened.
Case heard a man tell Navy, “Go sit over there. We’ll talk more in a second.”
The knock was for him next.
... He switched the lock and peeked out, the same pair as last night wanting to get in. It was allowed, the room shut behind them.
Roth explained matter-of-fact, “We’re going to have a conversation with you three in the living room.” What was behind their suspicious behavior was put forward, “We’re giving you all a chance to say anything you might want to before that. Anything at all.”
...”Don’t need to.”
One brow raised the slightest amount. He granted, “ ... Are you sure?”
Said it already. “Uh-huh.”
It was accepted with a shrug, Case directed out and where to sit – on a couch opposite Navy’s end of it, his boots at the side, the only seats in there made to face each other. The men outside Case’s room were signaled to leave, as apparently had Navy’s been, and the two went to see Hane with another knock. They were let in. Navy looked nervous. She was wearing her sling.
... He was surprised they’d give it to her.
...
In a short time, Hane exited and joined them, the last of the guards dismissed, and the two strangers seating themselves across from the group. His commander wasn’t pleased, though was quiet.
Fia opened, “We haven’t gotten a proper introduction to each other, so I’m Fia Conley, and this is my husband Roth. You probably guessed we’re together already, though – it’s hard to miss. Anyhow, we, and eight more – not including Ledger or Cerise I guess, so that’d be ten... – were there for your interviews. All of us discussed it for a long time, until about half an hour ago, and...” The lady bulldog put her words out like it had been carefully ordered, but not only by her. Like a formal statement. “Ballinger’s leadership would like to offer you three a citizenship.”
Roth took the follow-up. “ ... It’s not forced, just, like she said, an offer. You’ll be given this home to do with as your own, we have around the clock, seven days a week security, food, running water, working electricity, and a lot more all maintained by fifty people that live here; fifty-three citizens, if you stay, and every one of them has been with us for at least nineteen years since we built our wall, or was vetted exactly like you were ... give or take some details.”
... Hane was thinking. He tilted his head, and confronted them. “Why would I believe that?”
Fia’s reply was almost automatic; it was prepared. Roth gestured to the side for her to not, and spoke in a way that sounded like a genuine question, “ ... Why not?”
The commander didn’t respond. He stared.
“Listen...” the middle-aged woman courted, “we don’t expect you to believe us, and if this isn’t for you then we’ve already got all your stuff from outside, and you can go ... However, we really want you to have a walk around with us and give it a chance. Give us a chance to prove we’re telling the truth.”
Case had no clue what to say. He ought to stay silent and defer to Hane ... who he could understand was in a bad position. And when one of the Conleys plied a decision with a gesture of his face, he was given a contortion by Hane.
“ ... Sure.”
They beamed a little and in their own ways. “Great!” Fia blurted. “ ... Or ... Good; we’re glad to hear it,” she corrected, toning back to mostly professional.
...
No, it decidedly wasn’t her that started it. Or she kind of had, but alongside her husband, and not unintentionally. The Conleys were allowing a natural break for whatever they wanted to ask in return ... then cut through that when nobody did. Roth laid out, “To preface a bit, people were already told about you, so you won’t be a surprise. Meaning – I’m sure you’ll notice this – nearly everyone is armed, indoors and out; it’s encouraged. There’s also going to be people assigned to watch us at all times for obvious reasons.” Condensing the point, he said, “I don’t need to go through the list with you. If it looks to us like you might hurt someone, you’ll be shot. I assure you these guns are real.” Roth tapped his holster.
Case hadn’t guessed their weapons were fakes.
“Well, if that’ll be it...” Fia got up and asked around with her body language if the assumption was correct. Roth did as well ... and soon they went along with him to the front entrance. Case and the rest of them were shown out first, their male chaperone noting on their way to the road, “Ballinger’s not too big, so we’ll take a lap so you can see the whole town. You’ll get to see in a bunch of places later, but, y’know ... feel free to ask whatever – that’s what we’re here for.”
Odd as it was to notice it then, Case realized the cement was even, mostly uncracked, and its paint had survived in trailing, bright white and yellow streaks, the former as a perimeter and the second down the middle, some lines longer than others. Down where they walked at night was a long, straight path with, of course, the gigantic wall at their right. Up close he could tell that climbing it would be possible, but whoever was doing it would need serious grip to use the layers of metal, let alone not rip up their hands doing it. Certainly wouldn’t be quick getting up, past layered barbed wire, and back down without jumping and snapping a bone.
The suburban area was sparsely littered with homes and other structures, what few he could see immediately different in shape and color, largely akin in size and their muted paints. This was one small part, the rest obfuscated by layers and layers of dry foliage, the taller ones’ green contrasting tan grass like it did outside. Didn’t seem very safe, leaving all this shit around; unlike outside.
Two homes past – between that and the third – was a gravel trail leading to a middle-road identically connected to Ballinger’s opposite side, wall included, as it was all around on the horizon. Once the angle was right, Case was drawn away from concepting Ballinger’s size by a man coming into view ... and another right by. They faced away in lawn chairs, one drinking with their legs crossed while the other, it looked, smiled and talked. Interrupting them was someone in a hole at their front tossing out a shovel, reaching up, and yelling something indistinct. One of the men went over instantly, recontinuing their conversation as he lifted a boy out of the pit by his forearms. He was covered in dirt, wore a bandanna on his head, and was no more than ten.
Case realized the kid yelled, “Dude!”
The “man” that picked him up was at most fifteen.
Preventing the boy from dramatically falling over ... He’d seen them.
Three strangers watched them until they were out of sight.
...”So yeah, that’s the general way around. Four-tenths of a mile back down your road, one-tenth by the front gate, even length up the other side and to here. Almost exactly a, uh ... mile.” They knew, and Roth was aware of that. So ... why?
They stopped, past the back gate. The perimeter had been walked, and the Conleys’ awkward posturing got worse. Roth let out what they were so expectant of. “Not gonna make you, or anything, but ... We usually have questions by now. To be frank, it’s kind of hard to guide the conversation or convince you if we have no clue if you’re wondering about This or That – we could go through every logistic part of the place in a row, and we would, though I’m guessing you don’t want that, and are just ... biding.” That last part was directed at Hane.
... Hane was indeed quiet, and they did indeed appear willing to stand there all day until he asked something.
“Why’s it so open?”
Fia jumped into the slight gap, “Excellent question! Our next stop, actually, was to one of those watchtowers so you could get a look at what goes on up there, and so we could talk about exactly the kind of thing you brought up.” She tilted at the entrance to a post across from “their” home.
On their way to its serious-looking metal door, Fia prefaced, “Elias is here during the day, and of course if you want we can go see Tim, who’s here at night. Both are good guys. We know it’s a lot of responsibility,” the lock clicked (more “snapped”, by the sound of it), “allowing them to make important decisions and asking them to stay vigilant so long – plus, like everyone else, they have guns – and...” A moment was taken as everyone got to the stairs’ base. “ ... We trust them. You’ll see.”
Light was shone in through small glass panels on the wall they entered from. There was, also, an unused lightbulb at its top center – by a hatch at the summit. Surprisingly the structure gave a lot more confidence it could stand upright once Case saw its frame made of solid, rustless steel. Of what he knew about materials like these and if they would buckle under someone’s weight, he could tell it was planned and maintained well enough for that to not be an issue. The steps barely squeaked.
Preemptively, the ceiling unlocked, the guard on watch promptly sitting what sounded like in the above room’s front middle. When they entered Roth exchanged a glance with Elias, gesturing something like, “I’ll take it,” to which the new man got up while Roth looked the same way he was – out a tinted window. A well-groomed lynx with a pelt colored like sand with darker stylings, thin in a strong kind of way, offered his hand and gave his introduction, “Elias Lurdy; pleased to meet you,” with an accent Case had no way to describe further than, “Not from a Western continent.” He continued immediately, “Don’t give your names. I know already.” Even as Hane shook hands when insisted, Case was undecided if his curt words were suave, dickish, or mentally deficient – like the kind where he’d been battered on the head one too many times.
“I’ll get to explaining what I do, then.” He nearabout started, delaying to get confirmation from Fia who wordlessly allowed him onward. “Yeah so I sit here all day, after sunrise to before sunset, then I switch with Tim who does nights. Boring – awfully boring ... Window’s got a good view, though.” Elias motioned at it, the glass tinted and wall-spanning side to side and top to bottom, more of the same dark glass at its foot and side edges, a mechanism that looked to create an open gap in ... material welded(?) together. “Sit, keep one eye on out there, another on that light up there ... figuratively. Anyway that’s how we send messages; button on the wall makes it flash so we do sequences that everyone gets.” No smile made his excited chattering ... off. “Personally I like using a shitty chair. Keeps me awake ... Anything else or is that it?”
Fia stayed herself. They were supposed to reply.
... Hane inquired, “Do only you two work here? Twelve hour shifts back and forth?”
“Yep. Thirty guards, two here, eighteen total working about half the day every day, dozen more working the same shifts every other day, all across fourteen towers.”
“What happens when you see someone?”
“If they’re far, three rapid flashes then the post number, repeated twice. After backup gets here we discuss what to do with them then do that. If they’re approaching then I have to decide if they should be killed, disabled, or confronted. For the first two there’s a rope over there I can lift the window with, and I do the same for the third but only threaten them and get someone to go out. The bottom and side glass opens too, but I’m supposed to shoot through any of them if it’s urgent or too dangerous not to.”
“Can anyone see you in here?”
“Nope. Every post was checked from all times of day at different angles. Really all I can’t do is open the window at sunset. Except that it’s fine.”
“What happens if you miss someone?”
“I don’t. Never have. But if I did then that field is fucking loaded with mines. One wrong step, you’re mist. And yes they’re far enough apart to not set off a chain-reaction ... Floodlights have plenty range for night, too, if you were gonna ask. And it’s not just my side that was leveled – it’s all of them. No trees, no buildings. Clear as could be.”
“Do pests set off your mines?”
“I’m supposed to shoot them before they do – happened only once. That barbed fence around all of Ballinger city? One I’m guessing smells weird? We, not me, make and pump a deterring scent along it through a hose. Have to do it regularly I hear but its soaked in now.”
In reference to the huge white warehouse past their field, Hane commented, “That’s close.”
“Trapped to-hell-and-back, as well. Take someone a week to disarm all of it. Too big to demolish, unfortunately. Point being it’s not an issue for us, just whoever walks in there. We definitely watch it close, anyway.”
“ ... What’s the wall made of? Anyone ever climbed it?”
“Before I got here it was, but not since. It wasn’t even done then ... And it’s made of random scrap they found bolted together then to a chain fence. A layer of that, packed barbed wire in the middle, another layer for inside. I guess you could blow it up, but ... yeah not gonna happen.”
“The gates?”
“Same thing minus the wire middle. I mean it would be easier to get through that way, if sprinting up to a guarded front door seems like a good idea. We tested it’d take over three minutes to cross the gap even as fast as one of those things can go.”
“Someone ever take up the offer on your wall? They ever lie?”
“I haven’t seen it ... Nobody else, either, far as I know. It’s a hail-Mary we did ‘cause it might be effective. They all get vetted the same, Half-Deads can’t respond ... and bringing people in is Spotter work, mostly.”
Elias defined what he meant, “Right. The guy who brought you in. There’s four and they stay out there; got nice enough safe-ish places high up on the edges of the actual city of Ballinger, come in only for food and water or if they got someone, and they keep up the traps. Wouldn’t have nearly as many people here if not for them. Danger’s high but, like around us, there’s so many traps that nobody’s walkin’ in their turf without getting caught. Don’t have anything to keep up past like twenty meters out of town, either. None have died in a decade, and for good reason, is what I’m getting at.”
...”How do those traps work?”
“Covered pits, leg traps, nets ... things of that nature. Built for one or more. They set off an explosion that – trust me – is unbelievably loud, both when it’s loosed and when they get out, except with a certain method. Spotters close in, maybe who they caught broke something but I don’t think it’s ever been fatal. Mostly they try to keep from dying themselves, and the captive from committing suicide.”
“So why were we caught miles out of town?”
... Elias blinked a few times. “ ... I ... I don’t know. They didn’t tell me that.”
The direction of Fia’s statement formed as it was said. “Sorry sorry. He, uh ... Sorry, he did tell us that, we just neglected that it would come up, so he–”
“Fia,” Roth soothed. He took a deep breath, for her, then went on in her stead. “The Spotter that found you guys, who’d like to stay nameless, did tell us about that. He knows he wasn’t supposed to be there. However, if I’m honest, the four men who volunteered to do what he does are ... eccentric. They...” Roth tried to phrase it right, “ ... It’s their way or none. They do their job, we recommend how, and really they ignore us a lot. Things are ... complicated with them. If you want his explanation, in the only words he gave, it’s because, ‘I wanted to be alone.’”
... The bulldog retook his duty, leaving Fia and Elias to their conversation. Some of her nerves faded ... to be replaced by covert shame. And Case’s commander observed.
Elias wasn’t bothered, then the woman set right, “ ... That’s not usually how I am. Everybody says that, I’m aware, so let’s ... No. I should have handled this better. If I upset you three by acting weird, I’m sorry – and we should have told Elias about that, also.”
She, and their talk, went un-continuing.
... From the same person as last, “ ... We told Elias we might be here all day. Neither of us knew how much you’d want to know, so it’s not an issue. Or we could talk somewhere else – we were going to meet Cerise for something to eat after this, if that’s better.”
Confirmation from the guard, “I don’t get many visitors, so you’re good to stay. Do whatever you want; this is half my life either way.”
...
Hane returned, “Thanks for your time,” then to Fia, “How about we go eat for now.”
Their folding table flicked out, her husband arriving with and unfolding seven chairs – three and four on the longs ends.
Hane’s arms were crossed. “Why here?”
“Huh?” the woman hesitated. It was certain she heard him. “We won’t eat in the common area because you’re ... new, if you get what I mean? Plus, we eat by our house all the time since it’s such a nice spot. Lots of shade.” Presently under a tree’s canopy, Fia rolled her eyes at herself playfully, remarking, “Duh,” with a faint smile.
“I meant, ‘Why is Ballinger here?’”
“Oh; lots of reasons. It’s in the middle of nowhere, for starters, but it’s just big enough to have all the resources we needed to make a place like this ... Mostly it was deliberate, at least. Some of it was chance. Regardless, this part of town is secluded enough, it has a huge amount of viable land for farming – we’ll show you that later – which is also divided from other structures, with a river for watering.” She listed more, “We’ve got an electrical grid we made local, there’s a water-tower in the city that one of the spotters maintains so we have running water and water pressure, Texas is dry and sunny but consistent, which is good for the solar panels, and it’s so open not many people with bad intentions would come here. Also, me and Roth were beat cops Before, admittedly not for too long, but it meant here is ... familiar. And we knew people we could trust.”
... Fia began then halted. “ ... Maybe this isn’t the best to say when we’re about to have a meal, but, uh ... You should know. And it’s relevant!” She was averse, but convinced. “We use bio-waste as fertilizer, and the rest is directed to inside the city, where it’s dry– ... you don’t need the details, then dispersed by a system in a sewage treatment plant outside the city proper. All quite safe, and If you want to know h–”
“Please stop describing how we dispose of our shit. We’re about to eat.”
“I said they should know...! And they should. But yes, I will.”
Far behind the group, Cerise waved as Ledger and Roth did. Developing in a separate way, the man offered, “Ain’t neither of us city-planners, or electricians, or much of farmers. By that I mean you can try and get us to explain what we know, it just won’t be nearly what our construction guys can. Comparatively, we’re toddlers trying to describe mad notes on celestial alignment. I one-hundred-percent believe Mackerel’s real name is Merlin.”
“Morning.” Cerise went past them and claimed a corner seat, first putting a cushion on it to carefully settle down in. In the day, her age showed two-fold.
The Conleys sat on their side with Ledger, Roth gesturing for them to join. “Food’ll be done here shortly – made morning, noon, and evening for everyone. No special meal, only normal rations.” He led, “These two aren’t here just for eating, though...”
... Hane sat across them, so he and Navy did, too. And Cerise wanted to talk.
“Look, I...” It wasn’t anxiety or some other kind of nervousness, the fennec was simply, weirdly, pensive. “I want to do this now, and it’s why I come out to meet almost everyone around this time when they’re considering more time with us. So ... The three of you don’t know the same me, or Ledger. I wasn’t completely honest with any of you, and I won’t say where, but most of it wasn’t a straight-up lie. None of it was an outright falsehood, or without any base in our real feeling, only an omission of our honest opinion. This isn’t to downplay that it’s a lie, I’m only telling you this to give a full picture of what happened and why so, hopefully, there’s no lingering... misgivings. Ledger was part of this in your interviews, just less because he’s more there to observe and learn for when I can’t do this anymore.” Cerise condensed what she wanted them to take from this. “I lied, and I’m sorry, but I don’t regret it. If you choose to stay, then I don’t want any bad feelings between us, and I promise everyone who heard what you said in there is very committed to your privacy. I won’t breach that, and never have.”
For the first time Case knew of, Ledger spoke. “We’re not asking you to forgive and be our friends. It’s just to clear the record.”
...
They were good – it was expected, and that was the admission so there was no reason to ponder on the topic. They were good liars. Cerise was a good liar; Ledger could be no more than a meathead.
“Alright,” his commander accepted half-sincerely.
Content, she turned to them and wondered, “And you two?”
...”Yeah okay. Don’t worry about it.”
The wolf shrugged. Whatever context she was saying this in, he didn’t know it, nor was there reason to feign an emotion. Truth was acceptable.
“Dope,” Ledger obliged, his mentor rewarding a flick on the shoulder and roll of her eyes.
...”Y’all keep makin’ up. I’m hungry, and not wanting to scare anybody.” Roth was around them before his wife could permit, “Alright,” then speed-walked off at the street.
“Did you guys have a lot of meat?” their resident brain-studier wondered. “Out there.”
Was there anything else to eat? Well there could be, except when travelling ... and wild plants weren’t enough. Hane cut the possible elaboration, replying, “Yes.”
“Hm. I’ve got good news – or I don’t know, maybe your itching for it by now – ‘cause our diets are a whole lot else.” Since when did she talk like that. “You’ll get the rundown later at the farm. For now~... ‘Breakfast is,’ I saw this passin’ by, ‘grilled potatoes and carrots and steamed peach slices.’”
Fruit was an emergency food if hunting got exquisitely fucked; run around and pick it if someone was on the brink of starving and it was available – so never. It was a pain to find, would kill you if misidentified, wasn’t filling, sometimes tasted really good, most of the time wasn’t worth it ... Vegetables were fine. Cooked was better. Overall the meal sounded adequate, Cerise’s dumb grin suggesting it was more than.
“ ... Ever been to the South?” Fia asked.
The commander told, “Visited Before and After. More than once.”
“Have you two?” the direction came from Cerise.
... Guess he’ll go first. “No.”
“ ... Me, uh ... neither.” She continued their chit-chat, “ ... It doesn’t look like the Western movies.” “Well not all of ‘em, and some parts are like what you’re thinking. Go west and there’s a lot of land in Texas and other states that’s pure desert – rocky, flat, all kinds.” She chuckled, “Is it disappointing we’re not all rustlers with cowboy hats and drawl thicker ‘n tar?” The last of Cerise’s question was dragged out in a strange...
Case figured out why they all talked like idiots. Unfortunately their desire to appear serious dropped with their normal accents, leaving ... whatever that was. If he was honest, it had charm. Somehow.
Navy had taken a moment to figure out her response. “Um ... not ... No.” The girl rocked back and forth slightly, eventually settling, eyes not on anyone.
To Hane, the elder woman pried, “What’d you do down here?”
“Visited family Before, nothing special After.”
“Really? Who’d you see? And I mean, surely you were here for more than, ‘Reasons.’”
“Dad’s side was Texan. And the list of why to go somewhere isn’t long.”
“It is.”
... He knew what Hane would say. It wasn’t much of a story past the first bit of information – which told the rest by itself.
“ ... Okay. First time we were looking for new people and for my grandparents. Never found them, and didn’t come back much; anywhere else is safer.”
“Works in our favor, the landscape being how it is,” she added neutrally, looking around like she could see the features mentioned. “ ... Must’ve been early when you did that – and I’m guessing you’re from not too far. Can’t imagine having a big group agree to travel weeks for a couple people’s issue.”
Fia stepped in. “You’re not on the clock. Quit interrogating them.”
“I am–” Putting aside how real the sense of affront was, “That wasn’t even a question! It’s a conversation. Everyone can do what they please and talk to me or not,” was challenged with a mild recoil backward, face taught. Cerise assumed, “I don’t think they mind,” giving a chance to unify.
... The exchange was left out to shrivel.
Until... “It was early, and I’m from Oklahoma.” Case recognized the state as central.
“S–” the fox tried to appreciate, shut down by an observation. “It was leading, ask or not.”
“And you replied. Is not expression int-er-esting?” Huh? “Ope. There he is.” Roth was pointed out rolling a near-perfectly hush cart at the road’s bend, soon arriving with tiers of filled bowls. They – “the guests” – were served first, their meal as Cerise described with the carrots and potatoes in sorted half-circles on a ceramic plate while the peaches were heaped in a cup, every platter coming with a fork and open thermos of water. There weren’t enough points of reference in his memory to say if the food was appealing, though in that moment he thought it smelled good.
“They do a good job flavoring it with what they have,” Roth invited as the other three ate. “Some of ‘em come up with real crazy stuff time to time, and we, their faithful tasters, get to try it and shield the good people from an outbreak. They can have great ideas ... Occasionally. If kept in check.”
Ledger spoke up. “My chow is great. World goes all kumbaya happy happy when I’m cooking but he got jealous and robbed ‘the good people’.”
After swallowing his bite, Roth poked in return, “You call it ‘chow’. Stoners and fat fucks are the only ones that call it that. You ain’t fat, and your expression most the time says either, ‘Damn, I need a smoke,’ or, ‘Damn, I need a smoke.’ Jail’s there for a reason, and settin’ foot in that kitchen means life without parole, y’hear?”
“Fia’s in on it. Look,” the youngest of them motioned at the woman, all three of them visibly entertained to differing extents. “They’re cops. They suck at cooking. If we’re honest, you should serve time.” He had one more thing to say. “... Two joints and...”
Silverware (steel, iron... ) clinked and clattered for a minute thankfully devoid of inane jabbering. Cerise regrettably broke this when she instructed Navy, “You don’t have to wait for permission.”
The girl didn’t look her way. “I...”
To the older woman Hane reprimanded, “Stop talking to her.”
“ ... I’m worried about her. She should eat, and so should you two.”
He repeated, “Don’t talk to her.”
“What’s the...” There was a long absence for consideration. Everyone was looking at those two. “I am safe to be around. They are, too. We’re eating the same food you are. You’re safe here ... So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t trust you.”
Her volume was deliberately kept from escalating. “What about me makes it so she can’t eat?”
... Again, “I don’t trust you. Why should I.”
The bitch scoffed and disengaged to view those on her side, interpreting, “His plan didn’t go how he wanted earlier so now he’s mad. Hell did I do?”
“You’re a liar.” Not hard to get.
Case’s best word to describe the prolonged swivel to Hane was, “joyous”, the smuggest, most delighted of feelings pitched off her and smashing into him by sight on its own, her comeback, “Really now...” with all those features and more. “Give me the book.”
Roth was hesitant, his wife sharing that sense. He delayed, “ ... Do we really? I don’t think–”
“Yes. Now.”
From the cart he reluctantly produced a large book, the title unseeable, and handed it to the fox who immediately thunked it in front, opening and flipping its pages as she elaborated, “So I was thinking – you know, just out of the blue – about you, Hane, and the patch on your vest that says, ‘Fields’. Mummy dearest from Oklahoma led many soldiers and whoever else across America, training you to be the most hardened, badass leader ever who knew everything about everybody and could, I’m sure, talk whoever he wanted into killing themselves. Wow. What. a story. But then she died. How so, so heartbreaking for her loyal boy.”
“Cerise...!” called Fia.
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