First Weeks After

by Jay Vielle

  “Jake, you are under no obligation,” began the Colonel.

  “I kind of am, though, Colonel. Let him go. Soldier, give it your best shot,” said Jake. The fourth guard looked at his lieutenant for silent permission. The lieutenant nodded. The fourth guard then shuffled nervously, took a deep breath, cocked back, and hit Jake in the mouth. It wasn’t a great shot. He hadn’t measured his distance properly and didn’t step into the punch. It was all arm, and it didn’t even catch Jake’s chin fully. The soldier was probably nervous, and not expecting Jake to invite him to retaliate. Knowing Jake, that was part of the plan. Jake’s head snapped back a bit, then he ran his tongue under his lip, wiped it with his fist. And nodded back at the guard. Then he extended his hand back once more for a handshake.

  “All square?” said Jake. The soldier looked around nervously, then nodded and shook Jake’s hand.

  “Lieutenant, I understand your situation as well, and I apologize for putting you in this position. It was the best idea I could come up with at the time, and I know it wasn’t a great one,” said Jake, offering his hand again. The lieutenant took it.

  “Fair enough,” he said. The Colonel looked pleased at the closure. He waved us on to follow him and we began down the long halls of the Pentagon. The boys started whispering to one another.

  “What are you guys talking about?” I asked.

  “It’s just that, neither of us can remember the last time we saw Dad apologize for anything,” said Vinny.

  “Seriously. I think it might have been to Mom when we were at Disney World. I was like, ten or something,” said Tommy.

  “A lotta firsts, this trip, huh?” I said.

  “You know, Colonel, we do have a lot to talk to you about, but I have a small concern about Pentagon security that I should probably address right away,” said Jake.

  “What’s that?” asked the Colonel.

  “Well, it’s just that guard. If he were a Marine, with a punch like that—we’d have gotten him a nice desk job a long time ago. You should look into that,” said Jake. The Colonel laughed out loud and patted Jake on the shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you all again,” said the Colonel.

  I leaned over to the boys and whispered, “He really is an asshole, isn’t he?”

  “Yup,” they said in unison.

  CHAPTER 14

  “What the hell is this?” came the shout from the other side of the cafeteria.

  “All this fried chicken and you aren’t offering me a single piece?” hollered Wes Kent.

  “Good luck with that, buddy,” said John Segen. “I’ve already offered every bribe I can think of, and all I get is nasty looks from Roz and Addie,” he said, slapping Wes on the back and giving a belly laugh.

  “Sure smells good,” said Wes.

  “Don’t it now?” said John. “Makes me wanna start that meeting of ours in minutes instead of hours.”

  “We don’t have to wait too long,” said Wes. “Tomorrow is the big day.”

  “We ready to roll on all that stuff?” said John.

  “I believe so. The big preparation came on our end, and the ladies have the hard part done. Well, maybe not the hardest. The hardest part is keeping me and you from stealing chicken!” Wes said, slapping John on the back in return. The two had a big belly laugh on that one, and the ladies smiled and shook their heads.

  “Hey Wes,” a voice came from outside the cafeteria. “Can I see you a minute?”

  “Please, yes, Lou. Take him away. Take John with you too,” said Roz, waving a pair of metal tongs in her hand.

  “I could use both of you, actually,” said Lou Orville. “I need some help with the sound system. Hoping you all can help a little.

  The three men walked out of the school and into the football stadium. The stadium was fairly large for high school and had an artificial turf surface. Frederick county had some of the best football in the state of Maryland, with multiple state champion teams at varying levels. Hunter’s Run was in the smallest classification, 1A, and while they were not a state power, they had made the playoffs for four years straight under Lou Orville. Playoff banners were draped over the fence that surrounded the field.

  “For some reason I can’t seem to get sound outta this thing, and I’m not sure why,” said Lou.

  “Let me take a look at it, bud,” said John Segen. “You’ve heard the system in my car, right? The Escalade? I put it in myself. Cadillac makes a good car, but I needed a bumped-up sound system if you know what I mean,” said John, winking. “Wes you go get on the 50-yard-line. You can tell us what you can hear.”

  Lou Orville let John Segen into the press box where the sound system was. He had flicked on several of the system switches, and lights were on, but no sound was coming out of the microphone.

  “Hmm, seems to be working. Let’s check some of the connections,” said John. “You know I’m all about making connections,” he said with a big laugh. “Know what I mean?” He checked several of the connections. All seemed in place. Then he noticed some fraying on one of the cords.

  “This might be your problem. Do you have another cord like this one?” asked John.

  “Yeah, we have a closet full of those things over here,” said Lou. “Here’s one just like it. You think that’s it?” he asked.

  “We’ll see,” John said. He replaced the cord with the new one, secured the connection and looked up at Lou. “Try it now,” he said.

  “Testing, testing,” said Lou. Lou looked down at the center of the field and saw Wes enthusiastically giving him the thumb’s up.

  “Sounds great,” said Wes. John got up from behind the PA system box and grabbed the microphone and began speaking into it.

  “Hey Wes, you know this reminds me of when my boys, the Segen boys, were all dressed up in pads running all over this field. Gives me chills just thinking about those days,” he said. His voice boomed across the entire property.

  “Touchdown, number nine, Segen with a pass from Johnson!” said John into the mic. Wes smiled, Lou smiled. John kept on talking.

  “And a key block on the play from number ninety-five, another Segen,” said John laughing.

  Lou took an impatient breath, hoping that John would finish soon. Wes gave a wave of acknowledgment and started up the bleachers toward the press box to join his compatriots.

  “You tell me two other brothers that made the kind of impact at this school my boys did. Hard to find, I tell you. Once in a lifetime,” said John, still on the mic.

  “Alright, Howard Cosell, gimme that thing so I can store it in a safe place for tomorrow. Thanks for the help on this, you two. Father Joe will be pleased with this news. He hates having to shout,” said Lou.

  “Our pleasure,” said Wes.

  “Any idea what this is all about?” said Lou.

  “Father Joe gave me a hint on a couple things,” said Wes. “He is going to start a new town charter right here. He knows the rest of the county and the state are reeling from last week’s bombings, and there’s kind of a race by everyone to get things back up and running soon. Hell, we can’t even get a proper death count yet due to problems with power in several counties. Father Joe thinks were in a position to take some state leadership on things because we survived better than most places, at least as far as we can tell from news releases on the Emergency Broadcast System.”

  “And the whole town is coming?” asked Lou.

  “That’s what we’re aiming for,” said Wes. “He’s been promoting it every way he can think of.”

  “So Wes, you seem to be in on a lot of this. I hear the whole town is invited, but it’s the church’s gathering,” said John.

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Wes.

  “So what does that really mean?” said John.

  “What do you mean, ‘what does that really mean,’ John? It is what I said,” Wes replied.

  “Just gonna put it out there, boys. We all know that not everyone has been particularly welcome in the Church of Many Bles
sings. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not so sure that’s not the way to go. But if the whole town is invited, then what about the folks that don’t ordinarily come to church?” asked Segen.

  Wes and Lou looked at each other awkwardly.

  “John we’ve known each other a while,” said Wes. “We know what you’re talking about. But, the Padre has been adamant that everyone attend. Now, I suppose that means that certain types to whom we do not ordinarily extend a welcome are technically invited. I don’t know if it means that they’ll show.”

  “How does Father Joe plan to handle it if they do?” asked Segen.

  “Well, it’s my thought that if they do show, they will be massively outnumbered by a significantly dominant demographic,” said Wes.

  “You mean straight white people, not gay brown-skinned Communists?” said Segen. “And if they do show, they’re probably gonna be scared shitless when they look around.” John back-slapped both men and gave out a little cackling laugh. Wes and Lou both winced at the slap and at John’s directness, and instinctively looked over their shoulders.

  “In essence, John, that’s correct,” said Wes.

  “How come you never ran for office, Wes? You have a gift for not saying what everybody’s thinking?” John said, slapping Wes Kent’s back with a loud laugh and a thud. Wes smiled back.

  “Well, uh, thank you John, I suppose,” said Wes. John Segen then turned his cap around backward, stood straight, and offered a mock salute to Wes.

  “I’d vote for you, brother,” John said, finishing his salute.

  “You know, Wes, now that John has brought it up, what is the deal behind all this? I mean, I know Father Joe is a smart guy and all,” Lou began.

  “He’s more than smart, Lou, he’s a visionary,” said Wes.

  “But what’s the vision, I mean? It’s nice gathering and all, and I’m on board with some of what you guys are saying. I mean I wouldn’t be much of a coach if I was totally racist. Doesn’t mean I can’t see the forest for the trees on everybody. I mean, every race has certain tendencies and all. But where does all of this fit in?” Lou asked.

  “Yeah I need to hear this too,” said John Segen.

  “Okay. So you all know that the bombs fell last week all across America. We don’t even know for sure all of the places they hit, right? But we do kinda know in the Maryland - DC- Virginia corridor, don’t we? Because the EBS has come on and told us what areas to avoid and which ones are under Marshall Law. And overall, it’s the cities. The urban areas have been hardest hit, which makes sense, because that’s where all the people are. Bombs aren’t cheap, and you want literally more bang for your buck. So you shoot where the population is dense, and that’s cities. In Maryland, that would be Baltimore, Annapolis, Columbia, Frederick and of course everything close to Washington D.C., which is Prince George’s and Montgomery counties.”

  “Okay, so what?” said John.

  “So urban areas tend to be filled with liberals. Country and small-town people tend to be conservatives. So people of color, gays, tree huggers, all of those people by and large were taken out by the Russian bombings,” said Wes. “The places that survive the blasts best are gonna be the mountain regions in Western Maryland and the rural farms and water communities on the middle and lower Eastern Shore. Those people are all gonna be like us. That means the Maryland of tomorrow is not gonna look like the Maryland of last year. Nothing at all like it. And we are going to be on the cutting edge of the new state. We’re going to represent it, and we are ultimately going to run it. And when we rebuild it, we will do so with our own kind of people first and foremost. That’s Father Joe’s vision. And I don’t mind telling you, I share it,” said Wes.

  John and Lou nodded and smiled.

  “Damn, never thought I’d be saying this, but the Russians did our work for us,” said John, laughing and slapping Lou’s back. Lou raised his eyebrows and nodded. Wes beamed.

  “But Father Joe isn’t gonna come right out and say that, is he?” said John. “He’s not that stupid.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s going to make it a patriotic thing about this town, this church, even this school. They aren’t even going to realize that they look all alike. And anyone remaining who doesn’t look or think like us will simply leave. They won’t even want to stay,” said Wes.

  “That’s goddamn genius,” said John. “Fucking brilliant! And it turns a negative into a positive. It makes something awful, like this war, into a vision of the future. Just great all around.”

  “And we’re on the inside,” said Lou.

  “Yes, we are. And as I’ve said many times, membership has its privileges,” said Wes.

  “It certainly does,” said John, laughing loud and slapping Wes’s back.

  CHAPTER 15

  “So don’t get me wrong, Jake. I’m thrilled to see you. And I’m even more thrilled that you brought my research partner. But what made you drive to the beltway, steal horses, ride them to the waterfront, paddle stolen canoes and lift a power boat just to get to me? I have to think it’s more than you missing me,” said the Colonel.

  “We found our mom, sir,” said Tommy.

  “Your mom? But, I thought, Jake you said she was dead,” said the Colonel.

  “That’s what I initially thought, Colonel. But we saw her on a news clip from a drone camera. She’s here, in Washington. We saw her on the National Mall,” said Jake.

  “My God, son, that’s great news! So why start with me? Do you need help finding her? Or is it that you need a military escort so you don’t get shot at downtown under Marshall Law?”

  “Um, a little of both,” said Jake.

  “For Christ sake, Jake, tell him,” I said.

  “Ray, she’s a mutate,” said Wendy. “One of the leaders.”

  “Oh my God,” said the Colonel. “No wonder you’re here. Oh, oh I’m so sorry, all of you.”

  “Colonel, I’m gonna be up front with you. We want to capture her,” said Jake.

  “Capture? Are you insane?”

  “We want to capture her with the idea that we want to cure her,” said Jake.

  “Jake, my God, son. Cure her? We, we don’t even know if that’s a possibility. And those creatures, they don’t live long if they’re not feeding. Are you prepared for what might happen if you fail? If it doesn’t work? How do you think she’ll fare in captivity? And you know it’s possible that the mutates carry the Ebola virus. That can kill all of you in a very short time. Jake, this is insane. I’m, I’m sorry, but what you’re asking for—it’s not possible,” said the Colonel.

  “Ray, what about the newer treatments. The ones with the low mortality rates? The REGN-EB3. That was successful in treating the virus,” said Wendy.

  “On human beings, yes,” said the Colonel. “I know this sounds harsh, but that’s not what your wife is anymore.”

  “But what if it helps? What if it reverses the effects? Isn’t it worth a try? You need to experiment on these creatures. You need information on them. Well, we’re giving you permission. We have nothing to lose. We’ve already lost her, sir. You’re our only hope,” said Tommy, his voice cracking.

  The Colonel stood there, unmoving. He was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Then he walked silently over to his desk, and picked up his phone and dialed four numbers.

  “First Sergeant Ambrosian? Yes, it’s me. Get a pencil. We will need six HAZMAT suits, four large, two medium. We’ll also need five doses of the REGN-EB3 in a cooler along with several needles. I also need two tranquilizer rifles with standard dosage ammo, as many rounds as you can get your hands on. And I need all of this in thirty minutes, along with a full paramedic crew with a gurney. I will meet them at loading dock five in a Jeep. They need to be ready to head to the Mall.”

  “Thank you, Colonel,” said Vinny.

  “Don’t mention it, son. I have no doubt if roles were reversed, you’d do the same for me,” he said.

  “Okay, sir. This is all awesome, but how are we going to find
her?” asked Tommy.

  “You’ve come to the right place, son. I got eyes on every mutate pack in the city. We’re tracking their movements 24/7. The fact that you know you saw her on the Mall is a great start. That pack is the one we’ve been watching the most, as they’re on the most important real estate. We have sharpshooters everywhere prepared to terminate them if they get too close to anyone or anything we don’t want them near. We have boots on the ground all around the city, as you must know already, or you wouldn’t have taken such a roundabout what to get to me. First things first, let’s get the suits on and get in the Jeep. Once we’re across the river and at the Mall, we can start locating your mother.”

  We all started walking down to the area where we would pick up our HAZMAT suits. Jake was completely silent. He had his game face on. In fact, everyone did. Wendy looked nervous. The boys did too. I was practically soiling myself. I couldn’t believe we had gotten this far, and I couldn’t believe how much farther we had to go. We reached a wing of the Pentagon that I’m thinking not too many civilians ever see. We entered a room full of equipment, and we were met by a short, balding man in an army uniform with sergeant’s stripes. The name placard said “Ambrosian” on it.

  “This is First Sergeant Ambrosian. He’s going to give you your HAZMAT suit and outfit us with everything we need. That is, if I’ve guessed right on my logistics. Each of you, put your suit on now. You don’t need to pull the hood up until we get closer,” said Colonel Cannaveral.

  The Colonel walked over to two long, rectangular metal briefcases. He flipped the latches and opened each. Inside were two large caliber rifles used for firing tranquilizer darts. Each had a gray pistol grip with a metal extension stock and a scope on it. Inside each case were five darts that looked like little more than hypodermic needles with fluffy pink fletching on the back.

  “Jake, I assume you know how to use a rifle. These load like any bolt-action rifle. Don’t let the tip of the needle stick you. You’ll get five shots. I have absolutely no idea if these are strong enough to bring down your wife in her current state. If we can’t get her like this, I’m out of ideas. How’s your aim, son?”