“Well, civilian truck drivers who don’t have to worry about being in a convoy or IEDs are pretty much their own boss and can make a good living, more than you or me. I agree with you. I want to get the hell moving, too. Let’s just do it. If someone’s panties get twisted, we can say you were on your scheduled sleep and I made the decision. I could care less. When things turn around for the better, I think I want to go home and find my family.”
“Lieutenant Fotos, I just need a little more time for my vehicle but all the others are good to go. I’m guessing ten minutes, including the time to clean up and secure the equipment.” Angel shouted form the semitrailer.
“Good job Angel. When we move out, we’re going to use the northbound lane and go around the other convoy. We’ll also increase speed to sixty MPH.” Fotos looked over at Caleb, “If someone’s panties get in a bunch, I’ll loan them mine. I don’t need anyone covering for me.”
The convoy’s personnel just looked at the smaller convoy passing them, some waving for them to stop. Good thing they wanted radio silence for the convoy, Fotos thought as she urged Caleb to increase to sixty. She didn’t see he had a big smile on his face. The rest of the vehicles bunched up as it took the ASV a moment to speed up, then the convoy was strung out, after five minutes they were keeping good distance between each vehicle, so Fotos chose that time to slow down and cross back over into the southbound lane.
Interstate 25 ran through the dead city of Pueblo. Caleb could sense many norms as well as infected. Both groups were projecting hatred at the other, the intensity of the sensation had Caleb increasing speed so he could leave it behind as soon as possible. “Yo, Caleb, you feeling all right? You’re like, white as a ghost.” Asher asked, his voice tinged with concern.
“The city is so full of infected, and a shitload of norms. What the hell are the norms doing in the city? And why aren’t they trying to communicate with us? And why are there so many infected awake this time of day? Things are just messed up. I hope Arizona isn’t as bad.”
“You think that has anything to do with the other convoy?” Asher asked.
“Let’s just keep moving and get out of here. I’m starting to feel creeped out and I don’t get creeped out.”
Chapter 41
Douglas, Wyoming, April 9, 2029
Peters looked at the bottle of bourbon on his desktop and was trying to convince himself it was okay to have a small snort. He was already hearing reports of the Pig-man saying that not enough had been done to reclaim America. Those that were infected could not be saved and the only good infected was a dead infected. Pig-man had heard about the two infected in the hospital and let it be known that he would make sure the two were ‘good’ infected after he took over. He also wanted the Apocalypse Chosen occupying Ellsworth AFB to be totally destroyed. He’d asked around about the nuclear capability of the current forces, and their ability to wipe out the air base and the major cities with huge populations of infected.
The side door to his office opened and his chief of staff Brigadier General James Davis poked his head in. “You have a moment, WP?” He saw the bottle on the desk and continued. “I see you must be hearing what our future president has been saying.”
Peters grabbed the bottle and put it back in his desk drawer. “So what has your personal spy, Staff Sergeant Werner, have to report?”
“Jody is a damn good man. After the first couple days, he stopped his reports on you. That speaks volumes as he’s even more cynical than me. From what he hears, his charge is more hot air than anything. It sounds like whenever he gets more than three people in listening distance, he feels compelled to give a speech. After a little while, realizing we weren’t going to throw him on a fire, he started playing primadonna. I hear he was processed faster than any before, just to get him the hell out of the hospital. The doc has three patients from the group that rescued him. The fat bastard never asked about their conditions or even their names.”
“Any evidence he’s unfit to be sworn in as president?” Now’s your chance give me something, anything, he thought. Davis dropped down into the nearest chair as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
“Other than being an asshole, not a thing. If that counted, half the presidents would never have made it. I had intel and anyone with any ability to do basic research look. I have a team going to Casper to check out the morgues at the newspapers to see what can be found. It’d be easier if we had the internet.” Davis replied.
“I don’t have a copy of the oath of office for the position of president. My aide found a video of JFK at the school and transcribed the oath of office for president. A judge advocate general lawyer informed me anyone can administer the oath. Traditionally, it’s the senior justice or available judge. I’ll have a JAG officer in civilian clothing swear him in so it doesn’t look like a military kangaroo operation.”
“Sir, if you don’t have anything else for me, I’ll get back to the background investigation. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Davis rose from his chair and sighed in resignation before leaving the room.
Chapter 42
Interstate 25, New Mexico, April 9, 2029
Caleb looked around the spot they’d chosen for the night. It was the remains of a burned out casino development with a dozen other burned out or derelict buildings around it. His first thought that it’d been post apocalypse was disproven when he saw the signs advertising the construction of an even bigger and more beautiful casino that would break ground in 2027. I guess someone got that wrong, he thought as he tried to sense anybody nearby, sensing only the members of the convoy.
“The place looks good to me. We can even use the burned out buildings to shield our vehicles from the road and they will keep a fire from being seen, too.” Fotos listened to the suggestion and only thought of getting out of the truck for the day.
“Okay, let’s refuel all the vehicles and setup camp. After the vehicles are refueled, I want a cursory inspection of the buildings, maybe there’ll be a place inside we can sleep more securely.
“I’ll go in. I can hear or see anybody inside before they can see me, if there’s anything in there.” Why the hell did I say ‘anything’ make it sound like a bad horror movie.
“That sounds fine to me. Let me know if you find a room with a queen mattress, extra firm.” The others laughed at the joke while Staff Sergeant Angel had them line up their vehicles around her truck to start fueling.
A broken chain lay on the ground by the gate to the chain link fence encircling the buildings. The scrap lumber used to seal the door had been torn off and the pair of doors was wide open. The smell of burned wood and plastics were almost as strong as the smell of urine and cannabis. The doors had been tagged by a dozen different taggers. From the doorway, he could see garbage that had been dumped inside, and that the walls, for as far as he could see, had graffiti. He could sense no one, yet had his M4 ready nonetheless. He stopped and looked down at a sign that had been torn down and partly burned, then spray painted over. The little he could read was a warning to wear breathing equipment because of toxic chemicals exposed because of the fire. That was enough; he turned around carefully trying not to kick up any dust or particles. Once outside he took a deep breath of fresh air, feeling like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it, before returning to the others.
“No room at the inn, boss. The air inside is too toxic. I think if we just move the vehicles inside the fence and lock it up, we should have something to slow down any Zs that come across us. If we have one person walking inside the fence line, and another in the turret of the Guardian, that will be more than adequate. I’d like to take a stroll up these hills near us and make sure we don’t have an apartment complex or anything else nearby,” Caleb reported.
“Let’s get all the vehicles fueled and inside the wire and you can grab a man to go with you for a short patrol, no solo heroics.” Fotos replied. Caleb walked back over to the buildings remains and started dragging wood pallets to the best location for a f
ire. He could already sense it was going to be a cold night, no reason to be uncomfortable, too.
Caleb was contemplating cutting off his old friend’s tongue as he jabbered nervously while climbing up the short hill next to the casino. By the time he had started out to climb the hill, the sun had already set and it was particularly dark with a heavy overcast. Caleb, even with his improved sight, could barely see his hand in front of his face and gave up on climbing the hill, figuring Ash would only manage to hurt himself. He was so distracted with the chatterbox he did not even try to sense if there were others nearby. Once back at the bottom of the hill and near the fire, he pulled out his cot and sleeping bag, ignoring the others, and went to sleep.
The entire camp woke with a start about four hours later when Corporal Golsteyn burned off a magazine into the Zs that were trying to figure out how to get around or over the chain link fence in an area where the view from their camp was blocked by the casino. The moment he fired, they all surged towards him, knocking down the fence. The scream from Golsteyn was high-pitched like a school girl, compared to the shrieks from the infected that fell upon him, while those around the camp fire made for the vehicles. Caleb could easily sense over a hundred, maybe as many as two hundred. The feeling of anger was strong from the moment Golsteyn fired his M4. A slight break in the overcast made it easy to see the side of the hill was now covered with infected as they slowly made their way down the steep hillside.
“Fire up that hill!” Caleb shouted as he gave up the thought of rescuing the sentry, who he knew was beyond help. Wyatt turned the Guardian’s turret to face the hill and could see on his infrared screen the side of the hill looked like it was covered in ants. He selected the M2 from his console and began to fire up the hill, taking slow controlled bursts on the bottom, then gradually making his way up the hill. His red tracers were joined by fire from the M2 on the heavy truck. The gunner was firing long bursts that appeared to be spraying the entire side of the hill. Then Brown opened up from his JLTV at the same time as King began firing from the last JLTV, the four streams of red tracers crisscrossed over each other as Caleb stood by the side of his truck, firing at the infected coming around the corner of the casino, safe from the heavy weapons as they could not be depressed low enough. He fired at them single shot until his magazine was empty. Taking a look at the rest of his own crew, he was certain they were all inside their vehicles as he got in.
“This is a fucked up situation” Fotos practically screamed at him from the passenger seat. The thunder of the M2 above went quiet as Brown climbed down and slammed the hatch shut behind him. The sound of shrieking was getting louder as they could be heard climbing on top of the truck. Only the one gun from the Guardian was still firing as the other gunners took shelter inside their trucks. Caleb felt the adrenaline beginning to rise in him as he fought the urge to get out of the truck and run with the pack outside. Instead, he did his best to act nonplussed.
“Ma’am, I suggest you tell the Guardian to cease fire and everyone secure for the night. Make sure no one else was hurt besides Golsteyn.” Caleb stuck his carbine in the small rack and crossed his arms in front of him and appeared to go to sleep. Behind him, Brown was excitedly talking to no one about ‘firing up’ the Zs, while his body shook from the adrenalin coursing through his body. Fotos looked at both of them with contempt as she started calling each truck for a status report.
Brown started to poke at his shoulder, “Caleb, come on, start this monster up and just think of the job we can do on those fuckers. Your truck was nothing compared to what we can do now. At least let me drive if you won’t.”
“Shut the hell up, Airman, there’s nothing to be gained from running them down, and in this dark we could damage one of the trucks. Now shut the hell up and grow up!” The anger in his voice was real and Ash recoiled as if he’d been bitch slapped. Fotos was still on the radio, but looked over at Caleb and gave a nod of approval. He felt even worse with her approval as he crossed his arms in front of him and again tried to feign sleep. The others outside were still agitated at not being able to get into the trucks. He became agitated when he sensed Asher sound asleep behind him as though he didn’t have a care in the world.
“We lost Corporal Golsteyn. Sergeant Martinez was injured, but Staff Sergeant Angel has no more details than that. I hope he’s not infected. I can imagine him infecting her as well, then who’d drive that monster?” Caleb listened in minor shock that slowly grew to anger.
“That’s all you’re worried about, who’d drive the monster? Why not just order her to shoot him now and play it safe?” His voice was soft and low, as not to wake Asher, or for him to over hear his comment. Fotos was taken by surprise by the strong animosity in his voice, especially as she was thinking the same thing. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the face, as he stared at her.
Fotos gathered her courage to look over at Caleb and saw his chest was slowly rising and falling as he slept. In the back, Asher was curled up in a ball, slightly shivering, his boots missing. She thought about firing up the engines and decided against it since she didn’t want to awaken either of them. A quick glance at her watch showed another couple hours till dawn. She closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
Chapter 43
Surprise, Arizona, April 10, 2029
Gloria felt as if she’d been beaten in her sleep. Every time she started to really sleep, she’d been awoken by a new nightmare. She wanted to just stay in bed instead of turning over the troops to the major, but realized it was the only thing she could do. She’d have to move to another room as well. Maybe I’ll just move back into the RV since I’m no longer the big chief, she thought and then was hit with an image of little Oliver’s body on the bed inside the RV, appearing to be asleep. The image hurt her to the point she had to do something to get it out of her head.
Dressing quickly, she planned to go eat early, before the dining area was too packed, especially with all the new arrivals. Then she would sit down and finish any paperwork before turning it over to Major Wilson. I just hope he doesn’t expect a change of command ceremony.
Stepping outside, she noticed a set of flag poles that had just been installed. Looking up, she saw the stars and stripes and each of the service flags flying along with the Arizona flag. That’s a nice touch; I wish I’d thought of that. I guess Wilson is already getting busy.
The dining room was now half blocked off. Restless children were playing in the gym area while parents and diners were able to eat their breakfast undisturbed. She got in line, happy to see only a few people in front of her. A couple of pancakes and slices of bacon, along with a huge mug of coffee seemed to tell her that her day was going to be okay after all.
Major Wilson sat at one of the long tables with Pastor Hilton and she was not sure whether to join them or not until Becky waved her over.
“Hi Grits, Ronald here was telling me he has a great idea. He wants us to form a mixed salvage company of military and civilians, then put the group under your supervision, especially since you can sense when any infected are around. What a marvelous plan.” Gloria looked over at the Major and he appeared embarrassed.
“I planned to let the Lieutenant know of my plans later today, in order to work out any kinks it may present. When we’re done with breakfast, we’ll go up to the orderly room and fix everything up so there are no problems.” Gloria lost her appetite, yet was almost happy at the prospect of no longer having to make life and death decisions.
“Yes, Sir. That’s a good idea. You’ll find Sergeants Hale and Muller are top notch.” Gloria quickly ate her breakfast, not tasting it as the Major continued to chitchat with the pastor. She made a slurping sound as she finished her coffee, drawing the attention of the Major and the Pastor adding to her ill feelings.
“Good, you’re done. Let’s head up to the office now.” Wilson stood and waited for Gloria to stand. Once she was on her feet he started walking towards the exit, forcing her to almost run to keep up w
ith him. Bastard reminds me of his brother, she thought, and then began to worry.
Hale and Muller both came to attention as the pair entered the office. Major Wilson acknowledged them as he continued to the back of the office area to ‘his’ new desk. “Gentlemen, as of now I am in charge. Lieutenant Alban has done an outstanding job, and I’m sure both of you gentlemen can pat yourselves on the back in part for that. Gloria, I’ll clean out the desk later. Technical Sergeant Muller, you can assign three men to Gloria for her new command, I saw there’s a double amputee and a couple retirees, they should be fine for the new salvaging job. We’ll come back to deciding if things are hard up enough to take dregs from the bottom of the barrel. I want to setup a draft of every able-bodied man, sixteen to fifty. If we don’t get enough, we can look at women as well. No reason to bother yourself, Gloria, you’re dismissed.” Gloria fought the urge to tell the Major to go screw himself as she quickly left the office so he wouldn’t see the tears that were welling up.
Chapter 44
Douglas, Wyoming, April 10, 2029
General Peters looked at himself in the mirror in his office and felt a little sick. This was the first time he’d worn blues since the beginning of the current crisis. In five minutes he’d go out into the main cafeteria and officiate the swearing in of the President of the United States. The knock at the door was a welcome distraction. “Enter.”
“Sir, I was given this paperwork on behalf of Mr. Etchberger and told to clean it up and make it ready for his signature. Would you like to peruse it or should I give you the short version?” Sgt Suzy Zilkha asked.
“Give me the short version, Suzy.” Peters replied.
“Number One: no infected personnel will be allowed outside of caged areas. Number Two: all military personnel and civilian government employees will swear allegiance to the new government, forsaking all previous oaths. Number Three: no groups will be allowed to govern any town or city of more than fifty citizens unless approved by the government, and having duly sworn allegiance to the new government. Number Four: any local government formed outside of the permission of the current government will be immediately dissolved. Number Five: an immediate draft of all citizens, age seventeen to forty-five will begin. Those citizens in key jobs or positions will be exempt. Civilians failing to qualify for military service will be conscripted to civilian jobs to support the war effort. He said there’d be more later; he just wanted these to get done immediately. When he has his own secretary, she could do the rest.” Suzy had tears in her eyes as she spoke. Peters felt even more like throwing up, wondering if he’d be forced to resign his commission when he refused to swear loyalty to the man instead of the Constitution. He knew he’d fully failed to support the document, but believed he had followed the spirit as best he could under the circumstances. A new knock at the door was unexpected as he ordered, “Enter.”
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