Desolation

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Desolation Page 26

by Mark Campbell


  Jerri remained silent.

  “How it ends is entirely your choice,” Lt. Willow said as he placed his hands on his knees and sat up straight.

  “Just get it over with,” Jerri muttered as she slouched down in her chair, staring up into Lt. Willow’s cold, calculating gaze. Lt. Willow smiled.

  “Gladly,” he replied. “But first… how did you get on that plane?”

  Jerri sighed and shook her head. She heard stories about the interrogation procedures inside the camps and she knew that they always ended at the gallows. Why her savior bothered capturing her at all told her that he wanted to know about more than what he was letting on. Unfortunately he was holding all of the cards.

  “Do you speak English or would you prefer pliers?” Lt. Willow asked as he interrupted her internal monologue with a smile. Jerri narrowed her eyes.

  “I’d prefer that we cut the bullshit,” Jerri said sternly. Lt. Willow lost his smile.

  “And what bullshit is that exactly?” Lt. Willow asked calmly.

  “Just go ahead and ask me what you really want to know,” Jerri answered. “I know you don’t care about that plane, or how the people aboard died, or even what my goddamn name is. Just go ahead and ask me what you want to ask.”

  Lt. Willow leaned close and clasped his hands together underneath his chin. “You’re direct and I like that, but if you don’t start answering my questions I’m going to hurt you,” Lt. Willow said flatly. “How did you get aboard?”

  Jerri closed her eyes and sighed.

  “I snuck onto the plane,” she said. “I was a stowaway.”

  Lt. Willow sat back in his chair and nodded, accepting her answer.

  “I see. What gets me is that the men aboard that plane were wearing military fatigues,” Lt. Willow said.

  Jerri opened her eyes and stared at him. “I saw one of their bodies before…” Lt. Willow said as he spun his hand in the air as if trying to articulate his thoughts, “…before they were… well, taken away.”

  Jerri looked over at the mirrored window and wondered if anybody was watching them from the other side; it could complicate things.

  “I suppose you can guess my next question,” Lt. Willow said with a smirk. “What business did the military have in your camp?” Jerri looked down. “About a year,” Jerri said. It sounded plausible. “They helped quell a small uprising.” She stared daggers at the man sitting in front of her. “Something you failed to do here.”

  Lt. Willow kept smiling as if her spiteful words were inconsequential. He looked at her as if she were a silly child at his mercy. Jerri looked down at the rotting floorboards. She pulled the chain attaching her handcuffs to the floor taut and felt the floor groan; it could be her way out. Trying not to cause too much rattling, she relaxed her arms and allowed the chain go slack once again.

  “Uprisings can be rough. Fortunately it sounds like they handled things. Tell me more about your stay in Camp 6. You look healthy and well-fed. How much food would you say that they have there?”

  He casually took a small notepad out of his pocket along with a ballpoint pen, ready to jot down notes.

  Jerri smirked and shook her head.

  “That’s what this is about isn’t it?” Jerri asked. “You’re just a marauder masquerading with a badge now.”

  Lt. Willow put the pen and paper away with a sigh and stood, ironing the front of his pants with his hands. “I thought you were a woman of reason,” he said with disappointment. “It looks like I was mistaken. I’ll have to go get my cart. It goes without saying that what’s coming next isn’t pleasant.”

  Lt. Willow started to walk towards the door. “Project Lazarus,” Jerri blurted out. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she wanted him to stay until she thought of something. It seemed to catch his attention.

  Lt. Willow stopped and turned towards her.

  “So you can read,” he said with a smile. “The name was plastered all over the devices inside the plane. Nice try.” Lt. Willow started walking again.

  Jerri’s heart raced.

  “More than that,” she quickly said. “I wasn’t just a stowaway. I came here to spy.”

  Lt. Willow stopped and cocked an ear towards her. “That’s why I was hiding on the plane,” she continued. “It should’ve gone smoothly but the crew discovered me. I… did what I had to do.”

  That seemed to catch his attention.

  Lt. Willow walked back towards the chair and sat down. He took out his pen and paper and started to take notes.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Who sent you here to spy?” Lt. Willow asked as he looked away from his paper and glanced up at her.

  Jerri’s mind reeled. Her eyes darted from the mirrored window, to the door, to the floor, and back to Lt. Willow.

  “Andrew,” she finally said. “He worked for FEMA. We… we were a thing.” “I see... He couldn’t come up here himself so he sent a stowaway with no security clearance?” Lt. Willow asked doubtfully. “Forgive me for sounding skeptical.”

  Jerri shook her head. “ Worked I said. He defected and crossed the border into Canada,” Jerri explained. “I didn’t make it out with him…” She looked away. “He told me to come here and find out what I could about the status of the project before I head north.”

  Her gut wrenched. Her lies felt weak but they were all she had at her disposal.

  “Who wants to know about the status of this project you say exists?” Lt. Willow asked.

  “The Canadian government,” Jerri said. She tried to act calm but the sweat on her forehead betrayed her. “What’s left of them that is…” “Interesting,” Lt. Willow said, unimpressed. “Such sordid tales of international espionage are hard to come by these days.”

  Jerri bit her bottom lip and then looked up at him. She figured that her best bet of escape was to create a window of opportunity. “Look… you have communication equipment here, right?” Jerri asked.

  “Of course we do,” Lt. Willow quickly replied. “If you get me out of here and take me to the radio room then I can communicate with Andrew,” she said with an air of defeated innocence. “You can find out everything…”

  “Sounds like an interesting offer,” Lt. Willow said with a smile. “What do you want in return?”

  Jerri looked away.

  “No torture,” Jerri muttered. “Just… do it fast when you do it. I don’t want to suffer.” “Of course,” Lt. Willow said.

  Jerri looked at him.

  “Promise?” she asked innocently.

  Lt. Willow smiled and nodded.

  “I’m a man of my word,” he said.

  “Can we get going?” she quickly responded. “These cuffs are unbearable… I’d rather we just get it over and done with.”

  She found her window; a much easier window than the one she had envisioned.

  Lt. Willow nodded once again.

  “We will,” he said, “but first answer a question for me. How did you two communicate?” “We had what we called runners,” Jerri lied. “We had contacts in various camps that would get information and pass it down along the chain. That’s how we communicated.”

  Lt. Willow nodded. He stopped writing and tapped his pen on his notepad. “So let me get this straight,” Lt. Willow reflected. “You would have someone from, say, Camp 2 pass information to someone from Camp 3 and eventually the information would get relayed down to you?”

  Jerri nodded.

  Lt. Willow held his pen in the air as he spoke.

  “And these orders came down from your contact in Canada?” he asked.

  Jerri nodded again. “Wow,” Lt. Willow said with admiration as he leaned back in his chair and dramatically dropped his pen on the floor. “So you’re telling me that there is a whole web of… of… secrecy operating in our camps.”

  Jerri cautiously nodded. “It just… baffles me!” Lt. Willow said as he tapped his notepad on his knee. “It baffles me especially since all of the other camps were overrun and destroyed months ago.”

  A k
not immediately formed in Jerri’s stomach and her heart seemed to clench. Her face went pale.

  Lt. Willow smiled. “…What? Your contacts didn’t tell you?” he asked with amusement. “Camp 7 and Camp 6… We’re all that’s left out there. Some lasted longer than others but in the end…well, you know. I’m surprised they didn’t tell you.”

  Jerri took a nervous dry swallow and then forced a smile.

  “Officially,” she said, “you are correct. But people still live in the ruins and the web still exists.”

  Lt. Willow nodded and picked his pen up off of the floor. “I guess I’m just out of touch with the way things are out there,” Lt. Willow said with amusement. “Tell me… what information did your partner in Canada hope to gain from having you infiltrate out encampment?” he asked. He didn’t even bother writing anything down anymore.

  Jerri quickly tried to string together a viable response based on what little she knew. She remembered the broadcasts back in Camp 6, back when the helicopter used to come. She remembered the empty promises about how the government was sanitizing and reclaiming the larger cities.

  “He wanted to know how far along you got,” she cautiously said. “With…?”

  “In sanitizing the bigger metropolitan cities,” she quickly replied. “You mean with Lazarus?” Lt. Willow asked.

  Jerri nodded, defiant.

  Lt. Willow started laughing and stood up, putting his pen away. “Is something funny?” Jerri asked sternly.

  “Yeah, I’d say so,” Lt. Willow said as he continued laughing. He pointed the notepad at her. “Your entire bullshit espionage story is about as comical as the fact that you believe Lazarus is a defensive weapon designed to reclaim the cities. You’re a clueless insipid bitch.”

  Lt. Willow hiked his pants up and started walking towards the door, laughing.

  “Are you calling me a liar?!” Jerri shouted as she tried to hide the panic in her voice, face red. “No, you crossed that threshold a long time ago,” Lt. Willow said as he reached for the doorknob. “But don’t worry. I’m getting my cart and when I come back I’m getting the truth out of you, one toenail at a time.”

  “That’s what Andrew told me they were for! I swear it!” Jerri cried out in desperation.

  Lt. Willow’s hand rested on the doorknob and he froze, taking a deep breath.

  “He told you this?” he asked with a grin. “From Canada?” “Yes! Just over a month ago! They’re doing well up there… unlike the rest of us down here,” she spat.

  Lt. Willow chuckled and shook his head. “Canada…” he mused. “You’re right. They were doing very well after the pandemic. So were a few other contenders. The paradigm for world leadership changed overnight and the playing ground became rather uneven. We got reduced to a third world country.”

  “Not much has changed based off of what I see,” Jerri said coldly. “The camps have fallen and the Capital is wasting away while other countries are thriving. You lost the game.”

  Lt. Willow gave a sly old grin and turned towards her. “Did we?” he asked innocently, staring into her eyes.

  A chill ran down Jerri’s spine; she knew exactly what he was implying.

  “You’re lying,” Jerri accused coldly. “Canada is still there… They would have shot down anything you tried flying over their airspace!” “I guess you’ll never have the pleasure of knowing, will you? Sit tight. I’ll be right back,” he said.

  He opened the door and slammed it shut behind him. Angered and frustrated, she had to make her move despite the mirrored window just a few yards away. She knew what was in store for her next.

  She sat still for a moment and quickly started thrashing in her chair. She managed to topple over onto the floor, kicking her shackled feet against the rotting, warped floorboards.

  She lunged forward with her hands cuffed behind her and pulled on the chain that bolted to the floor.

  The section of floor where the chain was anchored started to rise… Jerri screamed through the excoriating pain as the iron cuffs tore into her wrists. She pushed forward with her entire body weight, pulling with all of the strength she could muster, ignoring the popping sounds both of her thin wrists were making.

  The rotten floorboard splintered and the anchor flew up from the floor. Finally free of the chain, Jerri tumbled forward and crashed against the wall, hands and feet still shackled. She groaned and coughed as she struggled to get on her feet… The task was impossible with her ankles cuffed so it took all she could manage just to get up on her knees.

  The door flung open and Lt. Willow walked into the room pushing a metallic cart full of dirty and rusty instruments.

  Jerri panicked and tried to back away on her knees, dragging the chain along the floor. “Tsk, tsk,” Lt. Willow said as he wiggled his finger in the air. “Look at you thrashing up the place. Where exactly do you think you’re going to go?”

  He walked away from the cart and strode over towards her. “Fuck you…” Jerri said as she fell backwards and scooted away from him on her buttocks.

  “Fuck me?” Lt. Willow laughed. “I don’t think you appreciate the distressing nature of your current situation.”

  Lt. Willow grabbed a handful of her dark brunette hair and pulled her up onto her feet. Jerri screamed and flailed in a vain attempt to get away. She felt locks of her hair rip out by the roots and felt warm blood dribbled down her forehead.

  Lt. Willow lifted Jerri until her feet were a few inches off of the ground. He looked at her pain-withered face and smirked. He leaned in and pressed his lips against her ear, breathing hard.

  “By the end of the night you’re going to beg me to kill you,” he whispered.

  He flung Jerri into the corner of the room. Jerri struck the wall and crumpled down on the floor, curling into a fetal position, crying. Blood matted her hair and ran down her porcelain skin.

  Lt. Willow looked at the long clumps of hair he held in his hand and dropped them on the floor. He wiped his hand on his pants and started to walk towards the cart.

  “Now, enough games,” he said as he picked up a pair of rusty old pliers. He held the pliers up the flickering fluorescent light, admiring them. “Tell me, how much food does Camp 6 have left?”

  Someone knocked frantically on the door.

  Lt. Willow sighed and walked towards the door, gripping the pliers tightly. He flung the door open and stared at the pale-faced FEMA officer on the other side.

  The officer was shaking and gripped his MP5 tightly. “What?” Lt. Willow asked flatly.

  “We have a problem in the east of the camp,” the officer blurted out. “We always do. They control that part of the camp. Can’t you see that I’m a little busy?” Lt. Willow asked as he pointed the pliers towards Jerri who was shivering in the corner of the room.

  The officer quickly nodded.

  “I-I can see that,” the officer stammered. “But it’s the virus. It’s inside the camp and spreading fast through the eastern residential blocks.” Lt. Willow went slack-jawed and slowly stepped towards the officer.

  “Is it Lazarus…?” Lt. Willow asked, terrified. “No sir,” the officer assured. “It appears to be the Acexa variant.”

  Lt. Willow let out a sigh of relief.

  “Thank God,” he said, “Our outside wall is dilapidated but sufficient enough to keep them out… How in the hell did they get in?” “It’s not the wall,” the officer nervously responded. “We think that the raiding party consumed infected flesh from the plane and that the infection spread post-mortem. People are panicking and running towards our position.”

  Lt. Willow stared at the officer in disbelief and then spun towards Jerri.

  Jerri kept her chin on her chest and let her bloody hair hang down, draping over her face. She started to chuckle.

  “One of your crewmembers was infected and they came here?!” he shouted.

  “Oh… did I forget to mention that?” she asked in a sinister tone as she started to outright laugh at him.

  Lt. Wi
llow focused his attention back to the officer in the doorway. “How contained is it?!” Lt. Willow asked, furious.

  “Well… It’s not,” the officer responded, nervously scratching his neck. “We don’t have enough men or bullets left to push them back. If they keep coming any closer…”

  Lt. Willow let out a frustrated cry and punched the cement wall, not even flinching as his knuckles split open and dribbled blood at his feet. He ran his fingers through his dirty hair and then took a deep breath.

  “Fire,” Lt. Willow finally said, barely above a whisper. He narrowed his eyes and nodded at the officer. “We’ll burn them out.” The officer was surprised. Gasoline was in very short supply and a commodity worth killing for.

  “I’ll need your keys to get into the motor pool and to unlock the fuel pump though…?” the officer cautiously asked. “I don’t hand off those keys for anybody. I’m not stupid. I know exactly what you’ll do the second you find a working vehicle. Get out of my way and I’ll do it myself,” Lt. Willow said. He threw the pair of pliers he was holding back on the tray and then pointed at Jerri as he spoke to the man. “What you’re going to do is stay here and watch her until I get back. Do you understand?”

  The officer nodded and squeezed the MP5 submachine gun tightly.

  “If she tries anything, kill her. If we lose the fight and civilians start storming the building, kill her. Understand?”

  The officer nodded again.

  Lt. Willows pulled the officer inside and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  The door made a metallic click as it locked. Jerri sat hunkered down in the corner of the room like a wounded animal, burying her face between her knees. Her manic laughter had been replaced by soft sobs.

  The officer walked into the middle of the room, sat down on the wooden chair, and pointed his MP5 at her. Jerri stifled her tears and looked up at the officer with her swollen face and red eyes. The chain that once held tethered her handcuffs to the floor lay strewn in front of her and the leg cuffs had dug into her ankles. She looked absolutely pitiful.

 

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