by J. F. Holmes
“Take care of yourself,” she whispered, and I nodded.
The door to my daughter's room was slightly open, and I stepped inside quietly. She lay there, breathing in softly, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. Paige had been born exactly nine months to the day after I came home from my last tour in Afghanistan, and she was the reason I had left the Regular Army.
As I went outside, I grabbed another bag of groceries, and met Jane on the way back in. We said nothing, just looked at each other under the light from the front porch. I put the bags down and reached up, touching her face with the back of my hand, the way I knew she liked it. She was my beautiful gift, far and away more beautiful than I had ever thought I could marry, and I thanked God every day for what we had. [TR3]
Chapter 3
On my way back to the check point, my cell rang - LT Brown.
“What’s up, Di?”
“Get your ass back here, right fucking now!”
“On my way!” I answered, but she had already hung up. I stepped on the gas and swerved around a car stopped at a light, running right through the red. Full dark had set in, and I could see the glow of the TCP’s floodlights ahead. I almost crashed into one of the unit’s LMTV trucks heading in the opposite direction.
I pulled in with a screech of tires and jumped out. “Sergeant Opel, what the hell’s going on?” I asked the first person I saw.
“I dunno! About an hour ago, traffic started piling up, and we had another car try to run the TCP,” he said, and motioned to where a wrecked Minivan sat. There were numerous bullet holes starring the entire front end, and three bodies lay under sheets, antifreeze and blood pooling around them, looking black on the floodlit street.
I jogged over to where Di was talking heatedly on the radio. With a curse, she slammed the mic back down.
“Nick,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Thank God you’re here. I have to go over to the company CP and explain what just happened here. Keep shit tight until I get back. Staff Sergeant Petruncio will fill you in.” Not waiting for an answer, she took off for the very Jeep I had just arrived in.
“OK then, what the hell IS going on?”
Petruncio, a short, wiry Italian who was, like me, a multiple combat tour veteran, was calm and collected. It was a common thing; the more shit hit the fan, the more drilled down combat vets get. It’s what the real world is to us; everything outside of killing and dying can be a dream.
“Well, so you see the line of cars,” and he gestured to a complete traffic jam, both lanes crowded with northbound vehicles of all types. Many people had gotten out of their cars and were milling around. “This one guy, all of a sudden he guns it from way back and comes at us, about forty miles per hour by the time Kolakowski opens up.”
“Where is he?”
He spat out a stream of tobacco juice and nodded. “Over there. He’s a bit shook up.”
“How’s everything else?”
“That was twenty minutes ago. Everything is moving smooth now, but we still have no idea what we’re stopping traffic for.”
“Neither do I, but you know how quick a crowd can turn into a mob. Take a patrol and get those civilians back in their cars. Oh,” I added as he turned to go, “I want everyone to turn their cell phones in to Sergeant Williams. If anyone wants to call home, they have to get permission from their NCO.”
“That’s going to piss a lot of guys off,” he said.
“I know, but tough. I need them focused on their jobs for the next twelve hours.”
“I see your point, but it’s going to go over like a fart in church.” He turned back and walked towards the Control Point, calling out names as he went.
I went over to where SPC Kolakowski sat on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He started to get up, but I told him to sit.
“You OK, Derek?” I asked.
He blew out a long stream of smoke, and said, “Yeah, but I think I overreacted. It felt like I was back in Iraq, and all I could think was that it was a VBIED.” I knew what he meant, a Vehicle Borne Improvised Explosive Devise could contain thousands of pounds of explosives, and was rolling death.
“You did the right thing. A couple ton car is almost as good as a bomb. Take some time, then get back to work.”
“Yeah, well, this is America, Sarge. Ain’t supposed to happen like that.”
“Ski, I just shot another guy two hours ago, because he panicked. People are people, and I expect we’re going to see a lot more of that before the sun comes up.” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. I hoped I was wrong, but I’ve been in some pretty shitty places in the world, and I knew the human animal, when threatened, could turn from civilized gentleman to wild beast in a moment. I made a note to tell Sergeant Petruncio to make sure his guys acted in as non-threatening a manner as possible.
Matter of fact, I should go with them. I walked over to where Petruncio was doing Pre-Combat checks. He had four others gathered around him, and was drilling them pretty well. It was the Guard, so some of the younger guys and girls were a bit inexperienced, and I saw that he had picked only people with combat patches on their shoulders. Good deal; I let him roll with it and thought about what, exactly, we were going to do.
While I stood there, trying to remember if we had a bullhorn packed away somewhere, a HUMVEE pulled up, letting off a Major that I didn’t recognize. He returned my salute, looking as tired as I felt, with circles under his eyes and two days’ stubble on his face.
“Sarge, I’m going to need you to clear this bridge. Get these civilians off, never mind the vehicles. You’ve got half an hour.” He turned to yell something at the guys from the HUMVEE, who were unloading crates and spools of wire.
“Excuse me, Sir, but I need to hear that through my company commander, or someone else in my chain of command,” I said when he turned back to me.
“Go ahead and call them. My guys are going to wire this bridge, and if we get the order, it’s coming down, civilians or no civilians.”
That threw me for a loop, and everyone within earshot turned to look at us. “Sir, with all due respect, what the hell is going on? You’re going to drop this bridge? It’s one of the major crossings of the Mohawk River! Shit, they just rebuilt it last year.”
“Sergeant, just do what you’re told, like I am. I have squads rigging every single bridge between here and Amsterdam. Call your CO if you have to, but you now have,” and he looked at his watch, “twenty-nine minutes.”
I just shook my head. Behind me, I heard Hanebury say “Zombies, I fucking KNEW it!” and I glanced up at the traffic, which was still piling up. People were starting to press against the barricades, still orderly, but getting anxious.
“RAMIREZ!” I yelled, “GET OVER HERE WITH THE RADIO!” I heard the truck start up, and wished again that we had some backpack radios. It rolled over, he passed the mic to me, and I quickly got the company First Sergeant on the horn.
“Top,” I said, “what the hell is going on?” I asked, radio protocol be damned. “I’ve got some Major I don’t know who is talking about blowing the fucking bridge. This is some kinda joke, right?”
“No joke. Do what he says. Shit is getting crazy higher, Nick. Your LT is on her way back. Good luck and Godspeed. Rainbow Seven Out.”
I slammed the mic down, just as the LT pulled up in the Jeep. She hopped out and started barking orders, waving at me to follow her.
“What the hell is going on, Di?”
Her face looked rough in the glare of the spotlights, and I could see her eyes squinting under pressure. “End of the world as we know it, Nick. All bridges across the country are being either blown or closed. There’s some kind of infection, plague or some shit coming out of DC, and they decided that it was the only way to keep the population under control.”
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Yeah, and I’m going to give the order to go to MOPP 3 in a minute.”
“Masks only? We don’t have suits.”
She shook her head,
“Masks and gloves. Apparently it’s a blood born pathogen.”
I swore again and cupped my hands together, yelling, “PETRUNCIO! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!” The patrol stopped, the rear guys crashing into their sergeant, and then turned back.
“Nick, I want everybody, except for whoever is running the control point right now, here in five minutes,” said the LT. I nodded and hustled off to pass the word, going into the GP medium tent and kicking cots, telling everyone to be there in full battle rattle in four minutes.
In a few minutes, except for the TCP crew, everyone was gathered around the hood of the HUMVEE that LT Brown stood on. She took off her helmet and ran her hands through her hair, then started talking.
“Listen up, everyone. There’s a lot of shit going down, and we’re at the sharp end. I know many of you might be reluctant to fire on Americans, but you have to trust me, there is some kinda really bad plague going through fast, and if you want to protect your families from getting it, well, this is the best plan they can come up with.”
The guys stood in silence, and she went on. “Having said that, hopefully it won’t come to shooting, but we’ve already had two incidents today. However, I’m going to give everyone who feels that this might be an illegal order a chance to back out.”
In the movies, this is where everyone stands fast in support of their leader. In real life, an immediate argument started, and several people started walking away. Not the younger ones, but the older guys who I was counting on to keep things straight. The younger ones, without combat experience, weren’t jaded enough yet. Me, well, although I didn’t like it, I thought I could see the big picture.
“HOLD UP!” I yelled. “No one is going anywhere. If you can’t obey an order to shoot, you can damn well drive a vehicle or man a radio. Everyone that feels that way, step over to the left side of the truck.”
Out of the thirty, maybe a half dozen did. Several more started to, but then looked at their fellow soldiers, and stepped back. Maybe they felt that it wouldn’t come to it; I was still in a bit of shock myself, and didn’t want it to be that way.
“Ma’am, I’ve got this. Why don’t you see if you can find out more info on what’s going on?”
She jumped down off the hood, and buckled her chin strap of her Kevlar. “Nope, I gotta do this myself, Nick. You hang back and get ready to roll, and see if the engineer guy needs a hand.”
I watched her pick twenty of the biggest guys there, and start walking towards the barriers across the bridge. This was turning into an effing mess. I detailed those who couldn’t find it in themselves to participate to go start rotating the trucks back to a gas station down the road.
The guys formed a line, weapons slung, and the LT grabbed a bullhorn. As she started moving down the bridge, a crowd began to form in front of her, looking sullen and angry in the darkness. Soldiers banged on car windows and told people to get out, and started herding them back down the bridge. There were yells and arguments, but like I said, she had picked the biggest guys she could find, and most of them were combat veterans, tired and pissed off at what they were being ordered to do, and took no shit.
“LISTEN TO ME!” LT Brown said, “THIS BRIDGE IS CLOSED! YOU NEED TO MOVE OFF, NOW! THE ROUTE 9 BRIDGE AND THE NORTHWAY BRIDGES WILL REMAIN OPEN! THIS IS FOR YOUR PROTECTION! PLEASE, GO BACK TO YOUR HOMES!”
A rock came flying out of the crowd, and hit one of my guys in the chest. Not a big deal, but that was how shit started.
“Fuck you! This is America, you can’t keep us from going where we want!” yelled a man who had stood up on a car.
“THE GOVERNOR HAS DECLARED MARTIAL LAW. GO BACK TO YOUR HOMES!”
That’s when I heard it. Gunfire echoed from several miles away, first a few pops, then a rising crescendo of small arms fire, and then a heavy machine gun, coming downriver. The crowd fell into stunned silence, and in that silence, another sound came drifting up from the south. It was a howl, coming from a human voice, but unlike anything I had ever heard before.
Chapter 4
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck was that?” exclaimed Sergeant Williams, who had come back with the cell phones.
“I don’t know, but shit is about to get bad. Naomi, tell your people to pull trucks across the bridge. The TCP is closed, as of RIGHT NOW!” She didn’t answer, just nodded and raced away. I heard truck engines starting as I jogged forward on the bridge.
“YOU, YOU AND YOU, COME WITH ME!” I yelled, pointing at Kolakowski, Hanebury and Boyd. The three of them, all Specialists, had been manning the Traffic Control Point, but I needed them now, especially Ski with his SAW. I was hoping a show of force could stop this riot in its tracks. Because a riot was what was about to happen.
“LIEUTENANT, BRING YOUR GUYS BACK!” Behind the crowd, screams erupted, that howl wailed again, chilling me to the bone, and everyone surged forward, onto the bridge. She had turned to face her men and order them back when a single pistol shot sounded, and Diana Brown threw up her arms as she was flung forward and onto the pavement. She disappeared under the feet of the single-minded animal.
One of her guys, I don’t know who it was, took a knee and fired a burst into the crowd, and it rolled back, like a wave meeting an immovable rock. Two bodies lay in the street, and LT Brown had been pounded into the pavement.
“CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!” I yelled, but it was no use. The asshole with the pistol fired again, a half dozen rounds, and two soldiers fell. That was all it took, and the rest of them unloaded. It was a massacre, compounded by the crowd still pressing up from behind. Whatever was driving them, they were more afraid of it than of our guns.
Which quickly fell silent. In their wisdom, our leadership had only issued thirty rounds to each troop. What, honestly, did we need more than that for? Our captain had said. Now, I cursed his name, and dug into my vest, where I had two hundred and ten of my own ammunition.
“Come with me, we’re going to get the LT. Everyone else, fall back to the trucks!”
The men passed me by, hurrying back towards the supposed safety of the two MRAPs. I pushed forward against the crowd, trying to get to Di, but I slipped and fell on a dead woman, and I started to get trampled. Feet slammed into me, and my breath was driven out of my lungs. One kick landed just under my helmet, and I saw stars.
Right at that moment, I thought I was going to die, but then I heard the ma deuce mounted on one of the MRAPs open up, and the crowd surged backwards again, allowing me to crawl over to the side of the bridge and pull myself up. I took a second to gather myself, and, thank God for them, the three guys I’d grabbed charged over to me.
Forming a tight team, we started back, but the crowd came on again, and I ordered them to stop and fire. So help me God, I wish to this day there had been something else I could have done, but foremost in my mind was the thought that, if they got through my unit was dead, and beyond them was my wife and family.
I lined up on one woman, overweight and wearing some kind of pants suit. A state worker, maybe, but now her face was twisted in a rictus of hate and fear in the spotlights, and she had picked up a rock or a brick to throw at us. I fired, and she sat down with a huff in the street, a puzzled look on her face, then just slumped over.
I haven’t forgotten her, but I’d like to think, in light of what came later, that I spared her some suffering. Now that I know. Maybe I’m just making excuses for myself, but it weighs on my soul. She was the first[TR4]. I ran forward and grabbed LT Brown’s body, slinging her slight frame over my back, and started back north.
“GET OFF THE BRIDGE!” screamed a voice over the gunfire, and I turned to see the Engineer Major motioning wildly. There were still hundreds of civilians on their feet, and dozens more staying in their cars. Men, women, children. I looked at them, then looked back to the trucks, and told my guys to go.
Kolakowski didn’t move, just laid down and started hammering a burst of 5.56 at the people who were still coming for us. Hanebury flopped down next to him and started feeding the g
un, yelling over and over, “SHOOT ‘EM IN THE HEAD! SHOOT ‘EM IN THE HEAD!” I don’t know if he really thought it was the Zombie Apocalypse, but he kept screaming it as I shoved Boyd forward.
I don’t know if Ski understood that we were going to blow the bridge; maybe he did and he was trying to buy us time. Hanebury was with him because they were a team, and he wouldn’t let him down. Ten years later, writing the story of what happened, I put them both in for Silver Stars. It got denied, of course. No witnesses besides myself could be found to testify.
On my shoulders, Di groaned. I looked back at them once more, then ran as fast as I could, hoping I wasn’t doing any more damage to her probably shattered ribs. I reached the trucks and slung her back on the ground, then turned to go back for Ski and Hanebury. They had stopped firing and turned to go, and the crowd surged forward over the dead bodies, that godawful howl sounding louder and coming from more places, roaring over the screams of the people.
There was a series of ear splitting cracks and flashes of light reflecting off the water; they started in the middle of the bridge and worked their way towards us. I could feel each one through the soles of my boots. Behind them, the roadway seemed to lift upward a little bit in sequence, and then fell the forty feet to the river below, bringing bodies and cars with it. Even as I watched, the last charge went off in front of my two men, and they disappeared into the blackness.
“Holy crap[TR5]!” muttered Ramirez, who had come up behind me. There was silence, punctuated only by more gunfire from upriver. Then the screams started again, some coming from people on the other side of the ruined bridge, others from the water as they were swept downstream.
Before anything else could happen, the railroad bridge to our right erupted in the middle, pieces crashing downward. Then the howling started again, and more and more screams from the people on the other side of the water. Some started jumping into the rushing current, trying to swim across, and the crowd actually surged forward into the water, falling, as something drove them from behind.