by David Achord
“Yes, sir,” Captain Fosswell said. He looked dejected, wondering why he was being chastised instead of praised for his work.
“And double the guards, muster up some of those damn senators if you have to.”
“Yes, sir,” he answered, rendered a salute, and walked over to his reactionary force, which was comprised mostly of civilians.
“I’ll give him a hand,” Rachel said and hurried after him, ignoring the required protocol to give the general a salute.
General Fosswell then turned to me. “Sergeant Clark advised me you predicted this attack. How’d you know?”
“I dreamt it,” I responded.
He looked at me in puzzlement. “A premonition?”
“I guess so.”
“Have you had other premonitions?” he asked. This time, I didn’t answer. He looked thoughtfully a moment before pointing at all of us.
“Let’s get a body count.”
“Three hundred and seven,” Norman said when we’d finished counting. “In technical parlance, that’s a shit load.”
“Yep,” I said as I looked them over. There was nothing discernible about the demographics of the things. They were mostly younger; I didn’t spot any of them that appeared over sixty, although it was hard to tell due to the scarring. I ripped a few shirts open and looked them over.
“What are you seeing, Gunderson?” General Fosswell asked. I pointed at the one I was currently looking at.
“The scarring is old and healed. These aren’t fresh; they’ve been zombies for a while now.”
“I understand you people have had similar attacks in the past,” the general remarked.
“We did.”
“I also read where you and your crew organized and conducted a large killing operation.”
“Yeah, there’d been a buildup north of where we lived. They hampered our scavenging, and it was only a matter of time before they were going to drift toward our neck of the woods. So, we took a proactive approach and eradicated a sizeable proportion. It was mostly effective.”
“And, you did it with civilians,” he remarked.
“We had one soldier with us, but yeah, the rest of us were civilians.”
“Nice. We’re going to have the Marines go on more missions, so they will be absent frequently. I need to find a way of training these civilians so they may be able to perform a similar operation without depending on military personnel. I think you people could be instrumental in that endeavor.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” I said. “You have too many chiefs and not enough Indians. I’m sure it’s hard getting them to listen to orders.”
He didn’t respond, and instead changed the subject. “What did you do with all of the corpses after you’d killed them?”
“We used a bulldozer to pile them up and then burned them.” I pointed at the corpses. “The longer they lay here, the worse the smell is going to get. If you want, I can organize a work crew and get started on them. How about you guys? How’d you handle the corpses?”
“We’ve been dumping them in a local landfill, but it’s caused side effects,” the general said.
“Flies,” Norman said. “Millions of flies. And, there’s no telling what those rotting bastards are doing to the groundwater.”
“We have a crematorium down below,” Lois said. “It would make things a lot easier.”
Parvis, who had been listening to our conversation, cleared his throat. “It’s only large enough to cremate three at a time. It was only meant to dispose of anyone who died while in lock-down, not for larger numbers like this.” He gestured at the corpses again. “As you can imagine, it’d be problematic to transport all of these things down into the bunker.”
“So, we dump them in the landfill,” I said.
Parvis grinned. “Maybe not. I rigged up something in Bluemont that I’ve been dying to try out.”
And that’s how it worked out to where we were tasked with cleaning up the mess. It took most of the day to load up the corpses into dump trucks, and then we followed Captain Fosswell and Parvis into the small town of Bluemont. When we stopped, his reactionary force casually exited and formed a loose defensive perimeter. Parvis led the caravan to four dumpsters that appeared attached together with pipes.
We stopped and got out. I walked over and looked it over. There were a series of two-inch holes drilled in the base of the dumpsters, which I presumed enhanced airflow. Each dumpster also had a pipe running into it. I followed the pipe back to a nearby propane tank. He even had regulators attached. I looked inside. It looked like he’d attached stainless burner tubes to the pipes.
“What do you think?” Parvis asked. “It won’t get as hot as a crematorium, but I believe it’ll do the job.”
“If there’s enough propane in that tank, it should work,” I said.
Parvis grinned and started tinkering with the gauges.
He eventually got it going, and we spent the rest of the day tossing the bodies into the dumpsters. We’d toss a few in, add a little stale diesel fuel, wait for them to burn, and then toss in a few more. It was nasty, stinking work.
It was sundown by the time we’d burned the last dead zombie and I’ll have to say, I was tired and I smelled. We all smelled. We stood around talking about the day’s events.
“Well, all in all, this was a success,” General Fosswell said.
“Yes, it was,” Parvis agreed.
“Who needs those Marines anyway, right, General?” Lois said with a nervous laugh. General Fosswell ignored her comment and motioned for his son, who jogged over.
“Yes, sir?” he asked.
“Get everyone loaded up and back to camp. Zach and I are going to ride back together.”
The younger Fosswell gave me a look. “Do you want me to ride with you?”
“That won’t be necessary. I need to have a private conversation with Mister Gunderson.”
“Roger that, sir,” he said, saluted, and jogged off before his father had a chance to return his salute.
“I’d like for Fred to stay,” I said. The general looked over at Fred and nodded. We watched as the younger Fosswell got everyone loaded up.
“Your son has a lot of respect for you,” I commented.
The general did not immediately respond. Instead, he watched as Captain Fosswell took one last look at him, perhaps waiting for a signal or something. General Fosswell merely nodded. His son hopped in the last truck and they drove off.
“He was a graduate of West Point, just like me,” he suddenly said. “Only, unlike me, he was last in his class. He was going to be Special Forces, just like me, but he barely made through jump school and was cut from Ranger school. Twice.”
“There are worse things a son could do,” I said. The general glanced at me and gave a clipped chuckle.
“Yes, I suppose so. How were you with your father?”
“My parents died when I was young. I was raised by my grandmother.” I gestured at Fred. “This man is my father, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I see.” He continued staring out in the distance. “Are either of you a religious man?” he asked. I was trying to figure the man out; he kept jumping from subject to subject.
“I am,” Fred said quietly.
“My grandmother was. She carried me to church every Sunday and Wednesday night. When I started high school, I was on the track team and had a job, so I more or less quit going.”
He turned to me. “What religion?”
“Presbyterian,” I answered. Fred nodded in agreement.
“Ah,” he said as he turned back toward the street the trucks were on. They’d already disappeared from view.
“I’m Catholic. The Catholics have a slightly different religious perspective than the Protestants.” He then held his arm out and made a slow, sweeping gesture with it.
“The quaint little town of Bluemont, Virginia. Have either of you ever been here?”
“Nope, this is my first visit,” I said. Fred gave a small nod in agreement.
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“Not much to it,” he said. “A typical sleepy town. A few of the Mount Weather employees lived here.”
He pointed. “That road will lead you to Route 7, which is commonly known as Harry Byrd Highway. He was a Virginia senator, among other things. If you continue to travel east, you’ll come to Round Hill, then Purcellville, and then Leesburg. All nice Virginia towns, back in the day. Eventually, you’ll come to the Dulles airport.”
“Okay,” I said. “Where are you going with this?”
“We are wanting to eradicate all zombie presence through that pipeline, all the way to Dulles.”
“I understand the need to reestablish air flight, but without fuel, that’d be a dead end, wouldn’t it?”
He gave me a look and pointed toward the northwest. “That way, about two hundred miles, are refineries.”
He let that sink in for a few seconds before continuing.
“You two should be a part of it. You’re adventurers. Neither of you should be kept pent up within the confines of Mount Weather. We need leaders out here in the wilderness.” He pointed in the general direction of Mount Weather.
“Those people only have an inkling of what it’s like out here. Even me. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yeah, probably,” I said. “With the exception of Melvin.”
“Ah, yes. Melvin is definitely an exception. Perhaps one or two others. The Marines would fare well, I would think. The rest, well…” He didn’t finish the sentence, and instead changed the subject once more.
“The sinners and non-believers are feeling God’s wrath. They are being purged from the earth. We must let it take its course.”
I looked at him questioningly, wondering where he was going with the line of thought. He looked out into the distance, but I had no idea at what. I glanced over at Fred, who seemed to be lost in thought.
“Did you hear? Doctors Smeltzer and Kincaid believe they have created a vaccine.”
“That’s good news,” I said.
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
“Is there any reason why it wouldn’t be?” Fred asked.
He kept staring off into the distance as a small knowing smile crept across his face. I continued watching him, wondering if I was seeing a side of General Fosswell he kept hidden from most other folks. I glanced over at Fred again, who gave me an arched eyebrow.
As we stood there, silent, wondering what the hell was going on, we heard the distinct snarling of zombies. The general pointed them out. If was six of them, they were maybe a hundred yards off, walking up the road.
“They’re never too far away, are they?”
“We should get back,” I suggested.
He stared at me queerly, the small smile still there. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
The ride back was quiet. I tried to engage him in casual conversation, but his responses were short, if he responded at all. I finally gave up, glanced over at Fred who still seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, and watched for threats. When we reached the front gate, he paused only long enough for the guards to open the gate and then parked in the parking lot.
Chapter 34 – Coup D’état
The klaxon alarm sounded promptly at six. Sammy, Fred, and I were outside walking the dogs and chatting lightheartedly. I frowned as I looked around. I didn’t hear any gunfire or anything else. I looked at Fred who gave a small shrug. I jogged over to the main guard post.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Damned if I know,” the guard replied. “We didn’t do anything.”
The klaxon continued for a full minute before shutting off. A woman’s voice then came over the speaker.
“All personnel report to the cafeteria. Repeat, all personnel report to the cafeteria. This is not a drill.”
The first thing I did was jog to our room and bumped into Kelly as I opened the door.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. For some reason, I was suddenly concerned. “Are you armed?”
She looked around to make sure nobody was nearby and patted her crotch. “Of course.”
Janet exited the room next door.
“What’s going on?” she asked, mimicking Kelly.
“We’re about to find out. Are you armed?”
“Should I be?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Absolutely, but keep it hidden.”
She gave me a look and disappeared back into her room. I watched through the open door as she opened a lock box and retrieved a derringer. She stuck in the pocket of her jeans, came out, and gave me a nod.
We walked together to the cafeteria. Everyone in our group, filtered in, along with almost everyone else who lived here. I saw a lot of familiar faces. They all looked tense, worried. But, what stuck out most was who I didn’t see. Jim Hassburg, an almost ever-present person in the cafeteria, wasn’t here.
Fifteen long minutes went by, with a couple of reminders over the intercom for everyone to get their asses to the cafeteria. Finally, a group of people walked in. The late arrivals included the Fosswells, Seth, Raymond, a couple of civilians, and two soldiers I hardly ever saw. They were surrounding the Secretary of Defense, Abraham Stark. He raised a hand.
“May I have everyone’s attention?” he asked in a loud voice. He waited until everyone had stopped chattering before continuing.
“I want to thank all of you for being here,” Secretary Stark said. “I won’t even attempt to manipulate you with political nonsense, there seems to be too much of that lately, so I’ll make it short and sweet. I am now in charge.”
I expected a massive collective gasp, but there was none. It was almost like everyone expected this to happen, and well, oh shucks, whatever.
I raised my hand. Secretary Stark looked at me impassively.
“Yes, Mister Gunderson?”
“A coup d’état?” I asked.
“Congressman Hassburg, the former speaker of the house, has formally declined to assume the role of presidency, as well as Senator Polacek, the former speaker pro tem.”
“That leaves you,” I remarked. He responded with a small nod.
“What exactly does this mean for all of us?” I asked.
“Status quo, Mister Gunderson.” He looked around the room. “We are going to continue growing Mount Weather and moving forward with rebuilding this once great society.” He looked around at his captive audience. “However, some of you will may want to reassess your value here at Mount Weather. Some of you seem to feel entitled to be here. Quite frankly, whoever does not pull their weight around here will find themselves being invited to leave Mount Weather.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “The way you phrased that last sentence implies some of us will be forced to leave.”
“You are either with us or against us, Mister Gunderson. There is no in-between.”
“That’s a hell of an ultimatum,” I said as I casually looked around. We were getting sidelong stares from a lot of people. I caught a look from Fred. Now was not the time for a confrontation, he was telling me. I understood.
“We’re not against you, Mister Secretary,” I said. “But, don’t expect me to agree with everything you say or do.”
Secretary Stark, or should I say President Stark, smiled easily now. “Oh, I expect you will find yourself agreeing more than disagreeing, Mister Gunderson. Excuse me.”
He then walked away and approached a table full of politicians and their aides. They all looked tense. Hell, everyone looked tense.
“What does this mean for us?” Janet quietly asked.
I saw Cutter about to say something, but I cut him off by clearing my throat. When he looked at me, I made a subtle gesture toward a table near us. At least two of them heard Janet’s question and were obviously listening.
“It’s a nice day outside,” Josue said. When he had everyone’s attention, he made a subtle gesture toward the door. Everyone seemed to understand.
We walked outside and I led
everyone to our parked trailer. Everyone was present except one.
“Where’s Kyra?” I asked her sister, who shrugged indifferently.
“Alright, the big question, how will this affect us and what are we going to do?” I posed both questions for everyone and then waited for someone to respond.
“Will they impose martial law or something?” Kate asked.
“Technically, we’ve been under martial law since the outbreak,” I answered. “So, the answer is no.”
“What do you think, Zach?” Janet asked.
“I think it’ll be status quo for the most part. I think the only people who will suffer will be these politicians. They are going to find themselves obsolete.”
“What’ll happen to them?” Jorge asked.
“If I have a good read on Stark, he’ll relegate their status down to common laborers. They’ll put up a fuss and try to resist, but the only way they know how to fight is with words and manipulation of people’s own personal interests. Those tactics won’t work anymore, I’m thinking.”
“And then what?” Kelly asked.
“At first, you’ll see a subtle change. Things will be run more efficiently, but without the power of the vote and individual rights, it’ll eventually become a totalitarian type of government around here.”
“What do you think, Fred?” Josue asked.
“All I know is I don’t care much for some of these people.”
“So, it begs the question, what do we do?” Kelly asked.
I looked them all over. “Alright, here’s what I think. They have a pretty good set up here. Plenty of livestock, good gardens, electricity, a functioning water supply and sewer system, a couple of doctors, a dentist, a veterinarian, a structured education system for the kids. These are things we didn’t have back in Tennessee. With the politicians out of the way, I foresee improvements continuing.”
“Like what?” Maria asked. She’d been quiet the whole time, as usual, but now I could see genuine concern in her expression.
“They’re going to expand. Once they’re sure the vaccine works, the word will get out, more people will be coming here. Parvis has already told me they’re expecting this to happen. They have two major goals. The first one is expanding the power grid into Bluemont, resettling people there, and then to expand eastward to Dulles airport.”