Christina yelled, “Don’t hurt him!”
One of the soldiers turned his rifle toward her, and I thought that we were all dead.
Instead of firing, the soldier chuckled and said, “Shhhhh.”
He turned back to the other soldier who used his rifle to nudge Taylor away from the truck. When they got about fifty feet away, the soldier said, “Okay, get on your knees and put your hands behind your head.”
Once Taylor did as instructed, the leader commanded, “Okay, next.”
Christina looked over at Kat and grabbed onto her. “I don’t wanna go,” she cried.
“I will be right after you,” Kat answered. “Now be a big girl. Follow what the soldiers say and then we’ll all be together soon.” Kat pried the little girl off and tilted her face up to make eye contact. “C’mon, Taylor’s waiting for you.”
Christina sniffled. “Promise you’ll be right there, you guys?”
“Promise!” Kat and I answered in unison.
Christina slowly got out of the truck. It felt like my heart was going to explode from the tension of watching her walk out to the soldiers. They surrounded her with guns raised, but amazingly she just kept walking toward Taylor.
I held my breath, fearing that the little girl might break into a run toward him which might cause the soldiers to open fire.
Remarkably, she stayed calm and continued to walk slowly. When she had gotten about ten feet from Taylor, one of the soldiers told her to get down on her knees and put her hands behind her head.
I could not hear the words, but I saw the soldier motioning how to put her hands behind her head. Christina did as she was told, and I started to breathe again.
The lead soldier observed the process and once he seemed satisfied that everything was in order said, “Now open your door slowly and exit the vehicle one at a time.”
I smiled at an extremely worried-looking Kat before doing as ordered. As soon as I stepped down, the barrel of a gun prodded me to move forward.
“As you can see, none of us is sick or anything. Is there really—” I never got to finish as I was pushed roughly to the ground.
“Shut up and lock your hands behind your head,” a voice roughly called out.
I moved my hands behind my head as I wondered if we had just walked into a situation worse than any shells presented.
I had been placed facing away from Taylor and Christina but managed to twist around enough to see them. They both appeared to be okay, but I assumed that they must have been scared to death. I considered shouting out to them with something encouraging but could easily imagine the action making matters worse, so I stayed quiet.
We were kept there on the ground like that for what seemed like hours. I wondered what caused the delay. Finally, the lead soldier got Kat out of the truck, and she was placed about twenty feet away from me on the pavement.
“Torrence, examine them for obvious signs of trauma and report.”
I assumed that he was addressing one of the soldiers near Taylor and Christina and twisted to see a soldier walking in a circle around the teenager. He repeated the process with Christina.
“No obvious signs of trauma upon cursory examination, sir!”
The leader took a computer tablet from the soldier who had been carrying the metering device. He wrote something on the tablet before saying, “Flynn, examine these two for obvious signs of trauma and report.”
In what was clearly a routine process, a soldier stepped forward and walked slowly around me all the while moving his head close as he examined my arms and legs.
He repeated the procedure with Kat.
“Sir, no obvious signs of trauma upon cursory examination, Sir!”
The leader wrote something more on the tablet and said, “Okay, Germino, I want an accurate reading on every damn one of them. Is that understood?” The clear anger in the question made me curious as to what had caused it. Had there been a previous mistake in this soldier’s duty?
I didn’t have much time to consider the question as the soldier had a slender microphone-looking thing stuck out near my head. In her other hand, she held the small case I had noticed earlier. She waved the thing slowly around my entire body before looking at the top of the case. She pushed a button on the case before moving over to Kat, repeating the process of waving the things around and consulting the top of the case for each of us.
When the whole thing was done, the soldier announced, “Clear ninety-eight point six on all subjects, Sir.”
The leader stared at the soldier for a long time seeming to weigh whether or not to accept her findings. Finally, he said, “Okay, bring the arrivals into the holding area to await clearance.” With that, the leader handed the tablet back to the soldier and walked briskly back into the terminal.
At the sound of the words, I wondered again if things had gotten better or worse for us.
With the leader gone, the soldiers seemed to lighten up a bit. They told Christina she could stand up and asked how old she was. One of them even complimented her on how brave she was.
The little girl seemed a bit suspicious of the compliment and moved closer to Taylor as soon as she could.
The soldiers had us all stand and move toward the terminal building. Their guns were no longer aimed at us, but they were held at the ready. I wondered a little at the extreme cautiousness. But I supposed that in a world like this a bit of carelessness can be deadly.
Once we got to the entrance of the building, we were told to wait. One of the soldiers opened a heavy metal door and stepped inside. After a few seconds, he returned to the doorway and announced, “All clear.” We were then told to go inside.
It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the change in light. As soon as they did, I saw a room filled with a number of soldiers. Some were sitting at desks typing on computers. Others were on telephones engaged in lively conversations. I saw one soldier consulting a large projection of the globe on a wall screen. I assumed this meant that the problem had affected the entire planet and wondered how things were progressing around the world.
I had so many questions, but before I could ask a single one, we were moved to a door on the other side of the room and into a hallway.
“You have not asked us anything,” I commented to the soldier directly behind me.
He responded shortly. “There’ll be lots of time for questions.”
I considered pushing the matter but could not deny that we had fallen completely under the control of these soldiers and whatever they planned.
“Can I get at least some idea of what?”
The soldier cut me off by commanding, “Move inside the room and wait there to be contacted.”
A forceful nudge in the back left me no choice but to follow the directions. I turned quickly around expecting the others to follow. Instead, I saw the door slammed shut and heard the lock click.
The idea of being separated from Kat, Christina, and Taylor sent me into a frenzy. I began pounding on the thick wooden door and screaming.
“Let me the fuck outta here! I haven’t done anything wrong!”
After a few moments, my fury turned to pleading.
“Please, the children should not be away from me. I need to take care of them. They need to be protected.”
Finally, my unanswered pleas led me to acceptance, and, with acceptance, I felt all of my energy drain away. I simply slid to the floor and muttered, “I said that I would protect them. I promised Christina I would protect her, not let her become one of those things.”
Like a slap in the face, the idea hit me that I had not simply failed to keep my promise, but I had done the opposite by actually delivering them to a place where I could not protect anyone. This realization instantly brought the rage back.
Chapter 12
I spun away from the door and quickly scanned the room. It had obviously been an office at one time. Judging by the relative smallness of the room and lack of windows, I assumed that it had not been the office of som
eone high on the ladder of the transportation commission. An old wooden desk and chair, a coat rack, a couple of file cabinets, and another small desk with a computer on top filled the room.
I’m not quite sure what I hoped to accomplish with the computer, but I turned it on and watched the monitor come to life. A picture of the Golden Gate Bridge almost glowing orange over the bright blue water of the San Francisco Bay filled the screen. I gazed at the screen saver for a long time, struck by the beauty and the notion that this was another image I had always taken for granted, one which had been lost.
This depressing idea held me for a few moments before I noticed the white rectangle under the bridge where the password should be typed. I considered it for a second and typed Ferry Terminal. Red lettering let me know that the password was incorrect and I should try again. I tried Tiburon Ferry Terminal and TFT; both were followed by the same red lettering. That exhausted my ideas on possible passwords, and I turned off the computer. Even if this was something like the end of the world, there was no reason to waste electricity. I chuckled at this thought.
I looked around the office for anything else that might be of use. I went over and tried the file cabinet to find it locked. Even if it hadn’t been, I’m not sure that spending time going through files would have been something I wanted to do. I looked through the desk and found lots of pencils, a few pens, some yellow and green adhesive notes, as well as a red disposable plastic lighter with the San Francisco 49ers logo on it.
I wondered how a lighter found its way into the desk. Was the office’s former inhabitant a casual smoker? The reason I decided on casual smoker was because as a former smoker I knew that anyone seriously into the habit would have the lighter with them rather than in a desk. Had the lighter been a souvenir from a football game? Or could the lighter have been placed in the desk simply to heat pens that sometimes refused to work properly? I quickly recognized such ruminations on the origins of a disposable cigarette lighter as a waste of time and merely a way to distract from my predicament. I was being locked away while any manner of terrible things could be happening to Christina and the rest.
I continued scanning the contents of the room for anything that might prove valuable. I saw nothing of much use to me. The waste basket was filled with paper towels and some sort of yellow invoice forms.
Suddenly, the air conditioning hummed to life, and I glanced up at the vent in the ceiling. That’s when I saw the fire sprinklers arranged across the ceiling.
I don’t know why, but the sprinklers immediately gave me the perfect idea of how to use the things found in the office. I fished some of the forms out of the waste basket and grabbed the lighter. I climbed atop the desk. My great idea was to light the paper on fire and use it set off the sprinklers and fire alarm. I figured that ought to get someone to open the door. I have to admit this was as far as I got in the plan. I had not even considered what would come after the door opened.
I set the invoice papers on fire and moved quickly as the flame spread at once across toward my fingers. I lifted the flaming pages in my hand only to realize that the fire was still nearly two feet away from the sprinklers. No matter how I stretched, the flames were not close enough to be detected by the sprinklers.
“Oh, sure,” I said to myself. “Of all the offices in the world, I had to be locked in one with an elevated ceiling.” The irony brought another chuckle, which was quickly cut off by the sight of the coat rack and another idea.
I dropped the burning paper on the tile floor and smelled the odor of the ashes and something melting. I hopped off the top of the desk and went over to the coat rack.
It looked like a heavy brass pole, but its light weight proved that it was made of aluminum. It had a few hooks near the top and a few lower. I grabbed some more paper out of the waste basket. This time I stuck various invoices and paper towels on the hooks at the top of the coat rack, which I lifted on top of the desk and climbed up after it. Once there, I lit the paper on the hooks and lifted the pole high up in the air and near one of the sprinklers in the ceiling. I smiled as the flames continued to shoot out from the coat rack. I held it like that for what seemed like several minutes. My arm was getting tired, and I had difficulty keeping the pole steady. When nothing happened after a time, I reasoned that the fire alarm had been turned off.
The whole thing was a stupid idea anyway, I decided as I began lowering the flaming coat rack.
At that instant, water began spraying from all of the sprinklers in the ceiling. A few seconds after that, alarms started ringing from what sounded like right outside the door and also farther away.
Climbing down from the desktop, I smiled at my accomplishment. Now, I simply had to wait to see how the second part of my plan would go.
I did not have to wait long as the previously locked door was thrown open and two soldiers burst inside.
I stood there like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I still had the coat rack in my hand and must have looked ridiculous, but no one was laughing as they forced me to the floor.
Two more soldiers made their way into the room. All four had their guns pointed toward my head. We froze like that while the overhead sprinklers poured down on us. I didn’t know whether to argue my case or to stay quiet. It didn’t matter, because I never had to make a choice.
A moment later, a familiar voice shouted through the doorway. “Jesus Christ on a cracker, I figured that you were smart enough to be long gone!” The colonel who had been at the airport so long ago strode toward me. From my position huddled on the floor, I tried but was unable to see his name tag, because I could not remember his name.
“Don’t you recognize a distinguished member of the press?” The general asked a nearby soldier.
The soldier looked a bit confused and, after a moment, answered, “Sir, no, Sir!
The soldiers immediately lowered their weapons.
“Corporal, help this man to his feet.” The general appeared to be enjoying the sight of me sprawled out in a puddle of water. “And get these sprinklers turned off!
The young corporal seemed unsure what to do first. Finally, he stepped over and offered me a hand. I took it and got yanked to my feet. He then spun around and left the room. I must have looked ridiculous standing there as the water poured down on my head. After a few seconds, the water stopped, and I stood there dripping.
The tag on the front of his uniform let me know the colonel’s name was Granger.
“Well, Mister Turner, do you want to tell me how after this much time, you only managed to make it from SFO to Tiburon?” Colonel Granger asked.
My amazement at the colonel’s recall must have been apparent, because he said, “For as long as I can remember, I have had an incredible memory,” he chuckled at the obvious pun. But anyway, you still working for the Marin Gazette?”
I looked at him, thinking that he must be joking. When I saw he wasn’t, I answered, “No, I’m not. From what I’ve seen over the last few months, it’ll be a long time before people start reading the newspaper again.” I had meant the comment to be sarcastic. However, as it came out, I realized it just sounded depressing.
“Well, you might be right about that,” the general commented. “But no sense crying over spilt milk, right?”
The serenity that overtook his expression gave me the distinct impression that Colonel Granger might no longer be in complete control of his mental facilities. This realization was truly frightening. If the person in charge of the ferry terminal could not be trusted to use the ships to evacuate people, then how could I trust him to take control of the truckload of poison and let others know of its potential?
I thought of Kat and the others and my heart sank at the idea that their survival might depend on this unbalanced person.
“So can you explain one thing, Turner?” the colonel asked, breaking my train of thought. “What was the idea of all this?” He gestured to the sprinklers and the water all over the room. “Just a cry for attention?” He chuckled onc
e more.
“I figured that it would get that door open,” I answered.
The general nodded and commented, “Well, it’s open now. What’s next?”
Now, it was my turn to chuckle. “Well, I have to admit that I never got past the open door part of the plan.”
Granger stayed silent for a moment, before a laugh burst out of his mouth. “I like a man with a plan, even when the plan leads to shit!” The general roared, and the soldiers around him looked a bit uncomfortable with his prolonged laughter.
Finally, the tremors of laughter ended, and the general quietly asked, “Are you ready to get out of here?”
Words escaped me in my surprised state, so I simply nodded.
“To tell you the truth, I had been on my way here to get you out when all the fire alarms went off,” he said as he shook his head at the water still dripping off of everything, including his soldiers.
“I’d like to get back to the people who came in with me,” I said louder than intended.
He nodded. “Let’s go.”
Just like that, we left the room, leaving the soldiers staring after us.
“We’ve established a routine of short quarantine as a means of keeping the terminal secure. Of course, it has become a routine which is less and less employed.” He paused for a moment as if trying to remember something. “It’s been fourteen days since we had an arrival.” He shook his head slowly at the memory. “Not able to let them inside though.”
I hesitated, considering whether or not to ask what had happened. In the end, I did not ask. The only thing that mattered right then was getting back to Christina, Kat, and Taylor. Any questions from me would most likely only delay this from happening. It also seemed important to get away from the colonel as soon as possible.
We walked quickly down the empty corridor to the metal stairs at the end.
The stairwell was dark and smelled damp. I started to climb the stairs. By the third step, it became apparent that I was climbing them alone. I turned to see the general still standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Surviving Beyond the Zombie Apocalypse Page 14